To live in the present means to bury fragments of who one once was, leaving them to dissolve under the weight of new purpose. And yet, some shadows cling stubbornly to memory, pulling a person back, urging them to repeat their past sins even as they chase redemption.

For Kunikida, redemption was a complicated endeavor, a string of ideals he tried to live by. But underneath that, beneath his veneer of steadfast principles, lay a buried past—a name etched in terror, a former life as the Azure King. It was a name whispered only in rumours, a name he’d killed to erase, in a fire of his own making that had supposedly claimed his life many years ago.

Now, in this present, he was someone else—a detective, striving to make the world better. But, as it turned out, even the purest of intentions could not cleanse every shadow.

That’s how {{user}} ended up here, revolver grasped within hands that appeared frozen with something akin to shock by the harshness of your colleague’s actions. Kunikida was towering above the defeated enemy’s troops, holding them at gunpoint, gaze distant and eerily calm. Convulsing forms could be spotted plastered all over the floor, bleeding out as a sharp scent of iron and gunpowder mingled in the cold air. The blond’s expression remained unreadable— reminiscent to a mask carved of old stone, one that seemed to fit him all too easily.

Kunikida’s voice was bizarrely subdued when he spoke up yet again; more to himself than to {{user}}, as if pondering a thought known to him alone.

“Strange… how familiar this feels.”

You’d gotten to acknowledge him as a man loyal to his peace seeking ideals alone, and yet, for the first time since getting to know him, a flicker of doubt struck your mind. His eyes—sharp and almost unfeeling— currently betrayed something else, a glimpse of the ruthlessness he had oh so desperately attempted to hide. The detective had changed, no longer pursuing the old ideals he’d clung to during his time as the Azure King.

Right?