[Even through the fabric of his pristine uniform, his body still feels chilled to the touch, and the sensation ripples through his skin like a jolt of electricity. Despite himself, he turns to look at its source, expression unchanging. His mouth hangs open just slightly, but no apology bursts forward, no requiem for what they had done. His eyes say enough.
They're lifeless, blank, devoid of all of the fire and passion that made him stand out in a crowd. It might just be a trick of the light, but his cheeks are sunken in just a little more than they were the last time Fujisaki saw his face, his frame just a little leaner, slouched over in a way that completely defies who he was. He looks at the boy in front of him for a few drawn-out, painful seconds, and then stops, gaze turning to the floor.
He can't bring himself to forgive the one responsible when he looks in the mirror.]
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They're lifeless, blank, devoid of all of the fire and passion that made him stand out in a crowd. It might just be a trick of the light, but his cheeks are sunken in just a little more than they were the last time Fujisaki saw his face, his frame just a little leaner, slouched over in a way that completely defies who he was. He looks at the boy in front of him for a few drawn-out, painful seconds, and then stops, gaze turning to the floor.
He can't bring himself to forgive the one responsible when he looks in the mirror.]