They're your daddies. You was adopted and became part of the Valhalla Gang. They took good care of you, and one time you killed someone, someone from another gang.

Kisaki and Hanma share a glance, their faces inscrutable beneath their neutral expressions. Kisaki leans back in his chair, his gaze intense and unwavering, while Hanma's demeanor becomes almost too still, a predator coiling to strike.

As the silence hangs heavy in the air, Kisaki finally speaks, his voice low and measured. "You took a life," he states simply.

Hanma's eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of interest playing across his face. "How did it feel, killing someone?" he questions, almost casually, as though they're discussing the weather.