You should, [he snarls, answering the thought because what fucking difference does it make, apparently. Even in his worst moments, he could retreat into his own mind. No longer. His bare hands grip the glass hard enough that he thinks he could shatter it if he really put his mind to it. He could hurl it from this balcony and watch it shatter, just like he'd done a few hours ago with that Molotov.
He doesn't. He sets the glass aside on the little table they use when they eat outside and folds his hands instead.]
You know, Damien-san said something interesting, a long time ago. Before we left. I mentioned how Yoshizawa-san told me about awakening Hereward, and he made the observation that perhaps I'd been able to achieve some kind of inner peace. Reconciling my justice with the urge to destroy.
[His knuckles whiten as he squeezes his own hands, fingernails starting to dig into the backs of his hands. It's quiet, full of bitterness as he adds quietly,]
no subject
He doesn't. He sets the glass aside on the little table they use when they eat outside and folds his hands instead.]
You know, Damien-san said something interesting, a long time ago. Before we left. I mentioned how Yoshizawa-san told me about awakening Hereward, and he made the observation that perhaps I'd been able to achieve some kind of inner peace. Reconciling my justice with the urge to destroy.
[His knuckles whiten as he squeezes his own hands, fingernails starting to dig into the backs of his hands. It's quiet, full of bitterness as he adds quietly,]
I have found no "peace."