[He stops talking all at once, his breaths and body practically shuddering with the force of the emotions running through him as he just buries his head deeper into his hands.
He had to be strong. He had to be the one that didn't flinch or cry when seeing a body, because everyone else would be in shock, and someone had to step up to the plate. He could react all he wanted in private, but people would depend on him, and how many expressions of thanks had he gotten for being the one to gather up the parts of Sigma's body?
He had to do this, because if he didn't, he was useless. What good was all his power when he couldn't reach it, couldn't even see the souls of the dead to soothe them? And what good was a protector who couldn't even save the people in front of him?
When he feels the shoulder bump, he stops breathing hard - and slowly lowers his hands from his face, looking over at Akira before focusing on the countertop in front of him, silent.
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He had to be strong. He had to be the one that didn't flinch or cry when seeing a body, because everyone else would be in shock, and someone had to step up to the plate. He could react all he wanted in private, but people would depend on him, and how many expressions of thanks had he gotten for being the one to gather up the parts of Sigma's body?
He had to do this, because if he didn't, he was useless. What good was all his power when he couldn't reach it, couldn't even see the souls of the dead to soothe them? And what good was a protector who couldn't even save the people in front of him?
When he feels the shoulder bump, he stops breathing hard - and slowly lowers his hands from his face, looking over at Akira before focusing on the countertop in front of him, silent.
After a long moment, he speaks.]
....I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you.