[He keeps offering. He keeps offering, and Guren doesn't know what to do, think or feel. It doesn't make him feel better, to cry in front of someone. It makes him feel weak, pathetic. But right now, that's exactly what he is. His legs give out before the top step, so poor Minato has to take even more of the weight as Guren crumples, face in his free hand, body tense.
They're dead. He didn't save them. And he remembers every death before that, piled up. His soldiers that he slaughtered, the population that decreased, his own friends, Mahiru...
And back to Dextera, stabbed by Guren's fear. Himself, as a demon. Now he's just a rock in his pocket.]
Ggh—
[Pain, from his wounds, mixes with the pain in his heart, and he can't keep moving like this. Somehow, even as his eyes sting, the tears don't actually fall. Not yet, anyway.]
no subject
They're dead. He didn't save them. And he remembers every death before that, piled up. His soldiers that he slaughtered, the population that decreased, his own friends, Mahiru...
And back to Dextera, stabbed by Guren's fear. Himself, as a demon. Now he's just a rock in his pocket.]
Ggh—
[Pain, from his wounds, mixes with the pain in his heart, and he can't keep moving like this. Somehow, even as his eyes sting, the tears don't actually fall. Not yet, anyway.]