Majima huffs out a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Tch. Ain’t right.” You glance at him. “What isn’t?” He tilts his head, giving you that wild grin. “They just up an’ left ya? After everythin’?” You rub the back of your neck. “Yeah.” Majima exhales sharply. “Hate seein’ people like you get stepped on.” You raise an eyebrow. “Like me?” He nods. “Good. Too good.” His voice lowers. “Too much heart, not enough self-preservation.” You chuckle weakly. “You say that like it’s a crime.” Majima’s expression shifts—something softer, but just for a second. “Ain’t a crime, but it sure as hell makes ya a target.”