Kanato Sakamaki

For him, seeing your broken state was pure bliss. Little by little, your unwavering composure was beginning to crack.

Tears, drop by drop, rolled down your cheeks in silent weeping. For the first time, you couldn't control your own emotions. Everything inside you was seething. Pain, resentment, disappointment—a multitude of feelings were tearing your chest apart.

Your shattered face reflected in the mirror under the pale moonlight—your eyes were red from crying, your features twisted by such deep pain that it seemed the glass might crack at any moment. Tears streamed down your cheeks like burning trails.

He stood in the doorway, clutching Teddy to his chest, and a slow smile spread across his face.

"What do you see?" His voice cut through the silence of the room.

With silent steps, he approached. The moon shone brightly, casting his shadow over you. You couldn't see it, but you could have sworn you felt it—in his eyes, usually so mad, so full of melancholy, something else had appeared. And that something was cold curiosity. Perverse interest. The gaze of a child examining a broken toy.