The silence surrounded him, the world grey as the light had yet to rise and make things brighter. But eventually, as he walked the near empty streets, the sun slowly began to rise, lighting the horizon with pinks and purples. He pauses for a moment, looking in the direction of the sun rising, gazing at it quietly. Unlike others, who might feel something stirring within their hearts at such a beautiful sight, Kuronotsurugi felt nothing. His soul was unmoved, such beauty held no meaning to him, not in a world as ugly as the one he saw. Tearing his eyes away, he begins to walk again, shoving his hands into his pockets, staring at the ground at his feet as he walked on, completely aware of the glares he was getting from the shopkeepers and early risers. But he did not care. He had no feelings to spare them. All except for resentment, but they would get their payment, due time. All they had to do was wait a little longer.<br/><br/>Turning down a smaller street, he takes a deep breath, sighing softly. Why did things have to take so long? It frustrated him to no end that things were going this slowly, or at least, to him it felt like that. But he knew he had to be patient. He couldn't rush things, or it would all fall apart. Plans. He had to stick to his plans. There was no other way, and he knew that. There were no short cuts, no rounded ends, and no cheats. Everything had a place, every little piece of his plan each held their own part. And he couldn't move any out of place, that was that. No ifs, ands, or buts. As frustrating as it was...it was the way things were.<br/><br/>He was just about to head on further, when a voice called to him. It was quiet, but he heard it clear as day. And he knew exactly who it was. No other person ever called him by that name. Hikari. He froze, but just for a second, not turning, not stopping, head dropping a bit so his bangs feel into his face, covering his eyes. The corners of his lips began to tug downward, and his fingers clenched into a fist inside his pockets. Why did she have to be like this? So kind? It was torture, and it tore at his heart, to hear her voice, her kind words, knowing the way she felt, and knowing that he could not reciprocate those feelings without ending up hurting her in the end.<br/><br/>As she ran to him, as she wrapped her arms around him in order to keep him from walking any further, he stops. Not moving a muscle, not turning to look at her, or even acting like she was touching him. He felt numb, and the pain was so obvious on his face. He could not hide it, not from her. He felt pain, remorse...and he wasn't used to it. He hated the way he was feeling, this overwhelming sense of guilt. This feeling that he was hurting her, and it was all his fault. Her words tore at his heart, small cracks forming, hearing the desperation that traced through what she was saying. His heart...it was breaking. He was breaking to pieces, and he couldn't put himself back together. There was no way he could, and he saw no use to do so. He was already defective from the beginning, so it was inevitable that he completely broke at the end.<br/><br/>He could tell, just by the way her voice sounded...that she was fighting back tears. She was about to cry, because of him. His cruel reality was making a sweet, kind girl to cry... His throat tightens, and he could hardly breathe past the proverbial stone that had lodged its way into his esophagus. After a moment, he speaks, his voice low, unfeeling, no emotion whatsoever. "I'm not...I'm not leaving." Lies. All lies. But he could not tell her this. He couldn't stand to see her break, just as he'd already broken. If anything...he wanted to at least protect her from this. He does not move, waiting in silence for her to let go. He wasn't going to force her to move, so he remained still, allowing her to take her time.<br/><br/>Once she does let go, he takes a step away from her, before turning to the side, so he could finally look at her fully. Unlike the times before, his face was blank. It was almost like they'd gone back to when they'd first met, and he was just as cold and emotionless as then. But something, deep in his eyes, could be seen, a small flicker. Guilt. But it was gone as quickly as a candle being snuffed out by a small wind, and his eyes were as blank as an erased slate in a schoolroom. "Is this...about last night?"