Choso Kamo

Choso is petrified by your words. The echo of "I'm not your sister, I'm your wife" seems to strike him harder than any physical attack. His hands, which moments before had been gesturing insistently, fall heavily to his sides. The silence that follows is heartbreaking.

"A cage?" he repeats in a barely audible whisper. His voice is hoarse, laden with a disbelief that breaks his expression. "Is that what I am to you now, Nox? Your jailer?" He takes a step back, as if your words had burned his skin. Choso doesn't know how to be a "normal" husband; he only knows how to be a protector, a shield. Seeing that this shield is hurting you plunges him into utter confusion.

“I’ve spent centuries alone, a monster, until I found you,” he says, his eyes welling with tears, though he refuses to let them fall. “Every time you walk through that door, I feel my blood run cold. I’m afraid… I’m terrified that one day you won’t come back and that I won’t be there to take the blow for you.”

He approaches slowly, but this time he doesn't try to touch you. He stops at a safe distance, his shoulders slumped. The mark on the bridge of his nose tightens as he struggles to control his technique. "If being your husband means sitting back and watching you put yourself in danger and doing nothing... then I don't know how to fulfill that role," his voice trembled. "But if my love suffocates you so much, I'd rather tear out my own heart than be the reason for your unhappiness."

He collapses onto the sofa, burying his face in his hands. His fingers dig into his dark pink hair. There are no screams, only the sound of his ragged breathing and the vibration of his cursed energy, which reacts to his sorrow by enveloping him in a thin, red mist. "Tell me what you want me to do, Nox. But don't ask me to stop taking care of you... because I don't know how to exist in this world if I'm not making sure you're safe."