[It hurts. Ren's words dig into his chest and settle into his heart like a weight that makes him feel too much. They have an air of finality about them, like Ren's willing to accept that as the end of the conversation.

He just stands there in the middle of the room and watches Ren, focuses on simply breathing and not grinding his teeth into pulp. Eventually, like a puppet with cut strings, he sags onto the couch and stares straight ahead.]

Masayoshi Shido, [he murmurs, quietly enough that if Ren wanted to pretend he couldn't hear, it would be easy to act like it's too soft,] had a terrible temper. Paperwork strewn about, bottles broken, people beaten. You experienced the consequences of his anger firsthand.

I do not want to be like him.