Juzu took refuge under a chair, watching as Keiko stood up and defended him and herself. A sadistic grin spread across his pale features, resulting in him suppressing a quiet chuckle. "I can't die here," he whispered, his gaze shifting as he eyed Mana with his red eyes. "Might aswell have some joy while here."
He knocked the chair down and stood out from under his desk, his hands in his pockets as he stood and glared at Mana with a tint of insanity, considering he was very adamant and impulsive, which fitted him nearly perfectly, and usually his impulsive attitude got him in loads of trouble. "How fatuous," he commented, grinding his teeth together as his suicidical, nearly pleasurable- from- deriving- pain grin widened nearly from ear to ear.
His mad as March Hare gaze shot towards Keiko, and he cocked his head to the side, making his features seem more vicious and bloodcurdling. "Thank you, Fujiwara, but you should not care. I can't die here, so I am fine in the mean time, in my perspective, because everything is an illusion."
The boy's gaze averted, and now struck the insane Mana. Balancing their soul wavelengths to where Juzu felt the insanity well inside him also, he hopefully thought they were on the same persona wavelength, though Juzu really didn't need to balance an immense amount, because his mind is vast with insanity with illusions and pathelogical lies.
He shifted his torso, soon bringing his waist and his body to follow his movement, and he walked towards Mana, only stopping in the middle of the classroom, his scarlet eyes anxiously shaking gently while his madness lapped at his conscience. "So, 'leader'. If you made this world only to absolutely conduct pain on the dead souls of others, why'd you make this world in the first place? What if it ever so happens that we never died, and we're all simply asleep, dreaming about what might happen if we do die? How do we know, that, this place is not an illusion? Is it?"
Juzu cocked his head to the side again, though this time to left, as his murderous grin softly widened further to where it began pulsing pains into his cheeks, but he didn't care. He had something to do, and the only thing on his mind:
Revenge.
The boy's hands rummaged through his pockets, though his sweater barely covered it. Where was it? He had a miniature shuriken in his pocket, but he forgot it was there this morning and unfortunately for his absentminded brain, he couldn't keep up with it. Finally, and successfully grabbing it, he quickly snatched it out of his pocket and twirled it in between his fingers for a quick second, and then threw it at her like a boomerang.
When his attack was done, he'd use his power again, but this time, most likely specifically directed at Mana, and this time, he was going to use it worse than last time.