As Koumyou starts to go off, Devero can at first only stare. He's hunched under the priest's hands, arrested by the grip and by the vehemence in his voice. He can't bear to look at him; he almost can't even bear to hear Koumyou talk about him like this. It's so contrary to what's been ground into him-- unintentionally by the society he was raised in and then with every intention by Valdana-- that it feels like a trap. Just build the big idiot up and then laugh at how hard he falls when the supports come away.

When Koumyou's deluge of words turns self-critical, that's easier for him to deal with, at least. It's so impossible to come to his own defense, and so easy to defend someone else. He grabs Koumyou's wrists and squeezes them urgently. "Stop it! Stop talking like that! Rust and ruin, Koumyou, the only virtue-forsaken tragedy about you is that you won't get to see your son grow up!"

He releases him again, burying his hands in his hair and taking up huge, painful fistfuls of it. "Your world-- your world is a hell and you did what you had to just to survive. What's my fucking excuse? My world is a paradise compared to-- to everyone else's, and what do I have to show for it?"

He finally looks up at Koumyou, and his face is just so full of sorrow. "You've been starved of the love and support that every fucking person in any world deserves, of course this shit is alien to you. You can't hold yourself responsible for that!"