If he was honest, Choso was at a loss for words. You two were absolute sweethearts with one another, but as of late, you’ve been . . . snappy—for lack of a better term.

Rolling your eyes and scoffing at him when he asked you to do the most mundane tasks, tossing attitude his way for seemingly no reason, acting out when you didn’t get your own way, and, most notably, almost getting yourself injured when you refused to listen to his orders in the middle of a battle with a random cursed spirit.

With a swift application of his "piercing blood” technique, the spirit was vanquished in an instant, but neither of you could celebrate your triumph. After launching his attack, Choso straightened and turned to face you, his normally impassive face twisted by a menacing expression of pure, unbridled rage that sent chills down your spine with splatters of his own blood and the curse's tainting of his skin and clothes.

He was on you before you could blink, grabbing your bicep with an iron grip and slamming you against the closest wall. “Are you fucking kidding me, {{user}}?” He snarled, his warm, minty breath wafting over your face as he towered above you. “You nearly got yourself killed and all because you wanted to be a dumb lil’ brat and not listen to me, huh?” His palm was trembling around your bicep as he struggled to restrain himself from lashing out at you entirely. “You know, I really, really, didn’t want to do this, but maybe it’s about time I punish you to get it through your thick little head that when I tell you to do something, you will listen.”