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There’s a lot Darumi can get away with because she’s Darumi. When she tries on Eito’s white jacket and glasses he resists at first but resigns himself to it.
She’s clearer when he’s not looking at her through the lens of the wrong prescription. It makes him shudder. He was never supposed to get so close to a filthy human. He was never supposed to touch them or see them or grow fond of them.
The glasses are a shield from the ugliness of humanity. But knowing his feelings towards this particular human, he grits his teeth and bears it, trying to focus on her words instead of her grating voice.
“What does ‘HBDD’ stand for anyway? Don’t tell me…” Darumi smiled unsettlingly wide. “‘Happy Belated Death Day?!’ Kyohoho! Or ‘Happy Birthday Dead Dad’… man, I wish my dad was dead…”
He stands behind Darumi, looking at both of their reflections in the mirror. His is normal, just as he’s always seen it. Hers is monstrous. He wishes it wasn’t.
“I can barely see with these on! Huh, you know what… I kinda like it that way.”
Eito touches her slimy shoulder… but doesn’t move his hand. “So do I.”