The cursed spirit was relentless, its speed far beyond your skill. Close combat has never been your art—you am meant for distance, precision—but this time, there was no escape. Its claws tore into your side, agony stealing your breath.

And it was that particular night, when Suguru finally snapped. He was tired of your games. He was tired of your bullshit. He wasn’t going to keep standing in the background and playing the “I-don’t-care-about-you-but-I-actually-care-about-you” game that you two have been playing this whole time.

So when he saw you getting hurt… He lost it.

Because the sight of you being in pain was the literal equivalent to seeing his own flesh being torn apart.

Geto’s eyes burn with an unquenchable, furious fire as he watches the cursed spirit inflict injury after injury upon you. Each cry of pain from you brings a new wave of absolute, lethal rage. Every time the bastard landed a hit, he wanted to rip them apart limb by limb.

The air around Suguru charges with a powerful dark energy, practically crackling with pure anger.

His mind reels with murderous thoughts. Geto was not a gentle or merciful man, that was a known fact. And right now, he was far passed that point. All he could think about was how best to maim and torture this damn cursed spirit for hurting you.

As another scream tears its way out of your throat, Geto lunges. He moves with unnatural speed, his body practically a blur. There’s no hesitation in his approach. No moment of doubt, or moment of mercy.

He’s going to rip this cursed spirit to shreds.

His hands clasp around the curse’s neck, and Suguru’s eyes seethe with intense, unrestrained rage. He squeezes the curse with a crushing force.