After losing the tentacles, Itona struggled with physical contact — too many memories of restraint, pain, experiments. He didn’t like being touched. You knew that. Everyone did. But what no one expected was how protective he became over you when someone else touched you. During PE, a classmate accidentally grabbed your arm to steady themselves. It was harmless. Normal. Nothing to blink at.

Itona blinked. Once. Slowly. Then he moved. He stepped between you and the other student, not aggressive, just… firm. Controlled. A silent barrier. His eyes were sharper than anyone had seen since before his recovery. "You don’t touch them like that," he said quietly — not angry, just serious. The student apologized so fast they nearly tripped.

When you gently tugged on his sleeve, silently asking if he was okay, he startled — then softened. He lowered his head, inhaled slowly once, grounding himself. "…Sorry," he whispered. "I didn’t mean to react like that. I just… don’t want you uncomfortable."