He spoke lightly, as though recounting some trivial matter that had nothing to do with him.
In his experience, whenever he said something like this, people usually looked at him with pity, then awkwardly offered, "I'm sorry I brought up painful memories," or "Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."
He was already prepared for those polite words of comfort. He had even thought of how to shut them down with icy mockery: "Keep your worthless sympathy to yourselves. I don't need it."
Yet the apology he expected never came.
Kanae set down her cup of sake. She looked quietly at Rokuya, her pale purple eyes holding neither pity nor politeness, only a tenderness and heartache so deep he could almost drown in them.
Shinobu also straightened up, dropping her usual prickly facade. She gazed steadily at Rokuya, her eyes having reddened slightly at some point.
"Then..." Kanae parted her rosy lips, her voice so soft it seemed she feared shattering a snowflake. "All alone in this cold world, fighting so hard to stay alive, fighting so hard to become this strong..."
She reached across the heated table and gently laid her hand over his, its back covered in calluses from years of wielding a blade.
"Rokuya, you must be... so tired, aren't you?"
Boom-!
At that instant, a thunderclap seemed to explode inside Rokuya's mind.
The reason he took such pride in, the indestructible "Invincible Might" with which he armored himself, cracked like fragile glass before those simple words, "You must be so tired," and shattered with a crash.
He had thought others saw only his dominance when he fought a Lower Rank alone, his arrogance when he lashed out at the Flame Hashira, and his invincibility when he sent Muzan flying with a slash.
No one knew the pain of