Drawn against the wall, he was silent. Not a word came from his hushed lips, his mind was bursting with thoughts. Demented thoughts, hurtful and painful ones. Thoughts about lies and family, betrayal, and loss.
Masaru was simply recalling his life.
His mind was breaking down, he felt as though he'd stay away from people. His life was slowly loosing meaning. If he wasn't there, Masaru had no reason even to speak. Loosing his 'friend' was the worst, and it hurt every day. As did the loss and perpetual silence he got when trying to seek out his father. Yggdrasil had taken his body, and wasn't about to give it up, but still it seemed Masaru could never be strong enough to save him, he could never be a true man in his father's eyes. Not now, not ever.
Even his partner couldn't get through to him, Masaru was almost like a time bomb ready to go off whenever. In this case the blast would be his sadness and hate being released. He'd surely be miserable until that happened.
He couldn't go anywhere he previously felt safe. It just wasn't reality anymore. DATS was dead to him, and pain resurfaced thinking about it. His spots were now figuratively laced with poison, and bad thoughts. The energies there were pushing him down when he needed to clearly rise.
That defining moment in his life, over two, or three years ago.
That blond, and his digimon, they had…things had been messed up, and worried over, just a bit too much, and Masaru had been angry. Near the place he once worked, and thrived as a person, and where he met Agumon.
He had been more or less betrayed, or thought so due to unrivaled fury. That had been the event where he had first Dark Digivolved ShineGreymon into Ruin Mode, the first time he gave his heart to the Darkness.
The one he had staked his pride, his heart on, had cost him many things. Feelings, and the ability to actually care for another. Masru did everything, gave it all to one person, only to turn around and get everything torn apart. And it was his fault as always. He had started it all those years ago.
Sure, he had his fellow Dark Hearts, but none of them could soothe his cracked and broken heart, not a single soul. His hands were made to destroy, his lips to tear down, his feet made to charge, his body was weapon of darkness, of evil.
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