Komaru: Man, I wish I could be as cool as Ibuki.
Kazuichi: You’re just as cool! Just in two different ways.
Komaru: okay, how would you describe my cool?
Kazuichi: Sassy, and a little bit dorky.
Komaru: and Ibuki’s?
Kazuichi: Striking, and a little bit shocking.
Komaru: And yours?
Kazuichi: Swagless, and a little bit pathetic.
Komaru: and you wonder why people keep mistaking you for a bottom.
Kazuichi: I CAN HATE MYSELF AS A TOP JUST FINE!!
Sometimes, After class 77B had returned from despair, Kazuichi felt terribly alone.
All of them, he knew–he assumed– regretted what they’d done. Who they had been. We’re disgusted by themselves.
So was he. Most of the time.
But sometimes the past overwhelmed him with dark intoxication.
Sometimes he missed the blood.
The smell of copper, and sweat, and terror.
The begging, and the screaming.
The feeling of a body breaking underneath him. The sick, sharp crack of bones.
Most of the time thinking about the past made Kazuichi feel sick to his stomach.
But sometimes it got him hard.