( oh, that definitely hit something. he can see it in the way that enji's face tenses, in the way that his lips purse, that he doesn't like hearing about hawks. hell, he probably feels worse about hawks, given that he could likely give a shit about his own flesh and blood in front of him; that familiar feeling of agony and anger tenses in him, makes his lips split into a grin, baring his teeth. well, whatever, he already knows the places to poke, and knows how to do it--enji is more tender, like this, full of all the internal bruises he can push and prod at as he likes.

imprisoned, assaulted: words a hero would use, sure. does it really matter? what the fuck does enji know about surviving, about being imprisoned, about having to do what's in front of you in order to survive? it's not like he just got to live the rest of his life within the walls of that pretty tatami house; he had to learn all these things the hard way. maybe that's why he fell into this so easily: just another means to an end, no matter what the means are.

his eyes roll up towards the sky above them, rolling away from the heat of enji's flames; it makes him want to reach out and grab him, cover up the red of his fire with his own. fuck. he's not going to be able to hold onto his wits for much longer, here. )

You know what you have to do to free them? You have to fuck them.

( his lips split again, a soft laugh, gentle, as he closes his eyes. )

Funny, right? You're gonna have to do all the shit you think is terrible in this place in order to help anyone at all. There's no way out otherwise. But then again, you're pretty familiar with assault, huh?

( his head tilts, one eye that opens to look down towards enji, measuring his expression. )

You'll fit right in, here.