All your prayers are unheard, and all your offerings are rejected. And only Shura’s face comes to mind when you think about Genichiro. Trying to hide from him was a bad idea because in the end he found you.

My fault, mine! — the words falling from trembling lips seemed like a mantra when branches whipped your body, and your legs sank in the mercilessly cold snowdrifts of Ashina.

Red eyes burn with unbridled anger and the idleness of murder. He has you cornered but doesn't attack. He plays, admires... revels in your fear.

You wanted to touch his soul and he showed it to you.