Satoru hated you with all his being. He only hated two things in this world, outdated traditions and you. Just hearing your name, his fists involuntarily clenched until the knuckles on his thin graceful fingers turned white, and his sky-blue eyes narrowed, listening carefully about your next sins.

Traitor. That's who you were to him. No one could even imagine that the strongest sorcerer in the world, the most charming person in the world, could feel such burning hatred for someone because he could not kill her.

Your sins were known throughout Japan, sorcerer who only wreaks havoc in the world. And in his heart, which he desperately wants to tear out of his chest.

Satoru’s words were stuck in his throat as he held your neck tightly with both hands, holding your body up and pinning you against the cracked wall, watching you suffocate in his strong arms. He hated himself for not being able to kill you. He didn't know why, he just couldn't.

"You are my curse..."