"And it's bullshit!" Devero snaps; under Koumyou's hand, his fist trembles.
But then he makes an effort to collect himself. One thing he's learned in his almost-six months on the train is that he comes from a world of immense privilege, and that his impotent anger that other people don't helps no one. He closes his eyes and focuses, the way Koumyou's taught him, getting himself back under a semblance of control.
He glances over at Koumyou, covering his Sanzo's hand on his with his other hand, and lets out a long breath.
"Some worlds are just like that," he repeats. He returns his regard to Buttercup. His voice is much softer as he says. "You did what you had to do to survive, Buttercup. Thank you for telling us; I know it must be scary for you."
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But then he makes an effort to collect himself. One thing he's learned in his almost-six months on the train is that he comes from a world of immense privilege, and that his impotent anger that other people don't helps no one. He closes his eyes and focuses, the way Koumyou's taught him, getting himself back under a semblance of control.
He glances over at Koumyou, covering his Sanzo's hand on his with his other hand, and lets out a long breath.
"Some worlds are just like that," he repeats. He returns his regard to Buttercup. His voice is much softer as he says. "You did what you had to do to survive, Buttercup. Thank you for telling us; I know it must be scary for you."