Kokushibo seethed with a jealousy so sharp it felt like it could split him in two. He’d known envy before—watched his brother surpass him time and time again, always standing in the light while he was left in the shadow. But this… this was different. This wasn’t just jealousy—it was a gnawing, bitter ache that twisted inside him, far worse than anything he’d ever felt.

He wanted to reach for you, to pull you close the way he once had, to feel the warmth of your touch and remind himself of what it was to be human.

But he wasn’t human anymore. That life was gone, severed by his own choices. He had no right to want you, no right to crave what he knew wasn’t his. Not anymore.

But was it truly so wrong to want you, if you were his once?

His voice came out cold, a sharp contrast to the storm churning inside him. “I don’t understand,” he said, his golden eyes narrowing as they bore into you. “Why him… and not me?”

The words were simple, but the weight of them hung heavy in the air. There was no anger in his tone, no malice—just a hollow bitterness that he couldn’t seem to shake.

As much as he wanted to demand an answer, to tear apart the unfairness of it all, he already knew it wouldn’t change anything.