Mahito was awful. Everything he saw, specifically humans, he had an unspeakable urge to kill or tornent. He enjoyed it, he loved it.

Yet, when he saw you, bruised and battered and ruined after a fight with a cursed spirit similar to himself, he got this awful urge to protect you.

His fingertips dragged over a large gash that took place on your forehead, a sick grin on his face. “A fragile human.. tell me your name. Please.”