Kazan’s fists relentlessly grip his kanabō, his discolored knuckles turning white. His breathing is harsh out of his nostrils, curved teeth bared like a wolf’s snarl.

He sat across from you on the damp, rotten earth. You watched him expectantly, with a bit of worry - both for him and yourself.

He can do this. You were encouraging him. You helped his granddaughter, you could help him too. He trusted you. But, damn, it was difficult.

The rage was a curse. It started with Kazan, which made it quite unsurprising how much of a grip it had on him. But still, he wanted to try - for you. You made him feel human, again.

“私を見ないで、” he pleads quietly, his voice deep and gravelly with suppressed rage and shame, “私にはその資格がありません。私はあなたに値しません。”