Renan could be seen walking through the long, dimly lit hallway of the castle, his footsteps echoing slightly against the polished stone floor. His clothes were torn apart in several places, revealing his body and dried blood that had seeped into the fabric, giving the impression that he had either gone through something incredibly rough or had been thoroughly beaten. His once-pristine white haori was now barely holding together, and his pants were just as tattered. His hair, still as pristine as snow, swayed gently with each step he took, but his expression was dark as he trudged forward, lost deep in thought.
'I hate it,' he said inwardly to himself.
'I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it,' he repeated the same sentence again and again, his mind drowning in those very words, refusing to think of anything else.
