"No, I--" The protest starts automatically, the assertion ready and waiting to leap free. No, I really am this worthless, the words Madame had so patiently ground through his thick skull. Worthless because the Guard threw him out, worthless without something to contribute, worthless because the only worth he had came from her generosity.

He shuts his mouth on the words, so hard his teeth clack audibly, and draws in a deep breath through his nose. The returning squeeze of his fingers on Koumyou's is far from gentle as he wrestles with himself.

"Everyone here is so... so special," he says finally. "People with incredible powers, people with incredible responsibilities. Geniuses, leaders. Self-actualized, fully sapient AI." He glances over at Koumyou, and away again. "You, Sanzo."

He shakes his head. "What am I? The only thing special about me is my hardware-self, and I'm worthl-- that is, I-I'm not going to be able to do much good, without it."

But this isn't supposed to be a referendum on his self-esteem. He offers the sutra back to Koumyou, and then drags the back of that same hand across his eyes. It comes away wet; he ignores that.

"It's not too much for me. I just-- I just need you to tell me what you need, that's all. What can I do for you? How can I help you?"