[The dark figure nods. Slow, as if aligning himself with the truth of it. Yes, that is all there is.]

I know.

[No accusation. No challenge. He believes him. Perhaps out of nervousness, he runs his left hand up below his right shoulder and lets it settle there.]

Games are built to erase choice. They launder necessity until it looks like consent.

[That scarlet gaze drops - only briefly - to Chishiya's mouth, then back to his eyes. Not hunger. Memory. Sweet, delicious memory.]

You did what the rules demanded. You used the only margin you were given. Kindness.

[That word is handled carefully. Reverently, almost. Another pause but this one is for himself.]

I reacted as though you had chosen to hurt me; you had not. You were surviving. The fault is mine for answering survival with rage.

[Finally, he looks away - not in shame, but in restraint; he grips his forearm with such force the knuckles would go white if he had mortal blood.]

Thank you for the kindness you chose. And forgive me for mistaking the rules of the game for your intent.