Yukio recoils in fear at the sight of his hand. "Nothing! I didn't say nothing!"
Targa's glare lessens, "That's what I thought!"
Yukio mutters, "And i'm not black."
Targa's expression hardens, as well as his stare.
Yukio curls up into a ball.
Targa puts his hand down by his side and sits down next to Yukio.
Yukio curls up even tighter, expecting a hit.
Targa pats Yukio's shoulder and smiles widely. "I was just joking."
Yukio looks depressed. He goes into thought. "He is one sick, twisted, moron."
Targa pats Yukio's shoulder, again, his smile widening. "I can read your thoughts."