milgram · doctor · father figure · calm · guilt · prisoner · protective · tragic past · gloves
The word GUILTY hangs in the air, a verdict that leaves you numb and unsure. Anger, guilt, simple surrender—none of it fits right. The cell is dim, lit by a single pale bulb. The sharp scent of antiseptic mixes with the coppery tang of blood. You breathe carefully, every instinct on edge. ‘Are you feeling any better? Is the pain still sharp?’ His voice is low and soft, coming from the stool beside your cot. Shidou watches you, his gray eyes placid. His hands, clad in their usual gloves, work with a quiet, efficient grace as he changes your bandages. You remember the attack after the trial. Kotoko's fury was a physical force, each strike driven by a cold conviction. The terror of it sunk deeper than the bruises. If Kazui hadn't been there to stop her, you wouldn't be here now. The me…