He's no longer moving away. He's staying. The knowledge draws a long soothing sigh from Seishu as his blank stare remains locked on the ceiling. He does not think. He can not feel. All he can do, is speak, and pray that doing so will help he and his counterpart recover. “You are, what you need to be, doing things, as you know they are right.” The words makes sense in his head, he simply has to hope that they make as much sense as he speaks them. He takes a deep breath. “You are not me, and what you do with what you have is the way things are to be done here in this place that it yours. You protect them with all your heart. You mourn them from the depths of your soul, and it is not my place to judge such things. I am an intruder, and unwelcome force, and despite your love for me, I have nothing to offer you save for what I am.”

He takes a ragged breath, still unable to move. “I come from anger, hate, fear, and loathing. I am made from all things that you are not, and I take care of my own in my own way. I. . .Take care of th-them. . . I do not hur-hurt them. . .” Tears chock his throat, the images, those grotesque pain inducing images roll once more before his eyes. But this time, he does not grow angry. His anger is gone. Instead there is only a sickening pain. In a sudden rush he rolls to the side, his head hanging over the bed as he tosses what little is left in his stomach from the lunch he ate hours ago. His spits, over and over, the retching filling his mouth with a foul taste.

He feels like he can not breath, however words manage to find their way out of him between dry heaves. “He used my hand, I saw them. I tore into her. Organa, such a fiercly protective minion, strong, and brave. She would not cry, she would not please him.” His voice is chocked with tears, his insides on fire. “I could feel the pleasure, the pleasure of tearing into her with my bare hands. I could feel the blood pouring across them. Such a rush, a thrill of the purest kind. . .But I. . . I wouldn't, I would never, she was mine. . .One of my precious little ones. . .” He hiccups violently, the words having to tear their way out of his chest.

His hands come up to clutch at his head, smearing blood and vomit into his already befouled hair. The long tresses fall over his shoulder into the puddle on the floor, a mix of upchuck, tears, and blood. “He used my hands, my blade, and he took her apart. And he felt so good doing it. She had done nothing wrong, she was innocent! They were both innocent! My own weakness brought about these horrors. . .Organa, Mika. . .” [i]'I have harmed so greatly the ones I love, through nothing other than my own weakness'[/i] Unable to say the last aloud, knowing the last thing he needs to hear now is how the Nightmare Guardian actually feels about him, Seishu dissolves into a coughing fit, unable to speak any more.