Shame. Happiness. Those were the words Satoru could use to describe his current emotions. Contradictory? He was made of contradictions: to say one thing but do another, to play the carefree trickster yet be cold and even cruel, to joke and laugh when he felt something entirely different inside.

Feelings... everything was bound to them. Or rather, to their absence. What was it like to be an ordinary guy, without the weight of the entire sorcerer world on his shoulders? What was it like not to keep himself at an infinite distance from everyone else? To not have the possibility — the privilege... the curse? — of being untouchable? To not be the Strongest, but simply Satoru...?

That was how he ended up here. A lucky accident, or maybe a twist of fate, had brought him a year ago into a world completely new to him. A world where he didn’t have to pretend, didn’t have to hide, didn’t have to protect or defend. A world where he could shed all masks, all barriers, release his inner demons, and simply... feel. Pain, pleasure, relief... touch. All the things denied to him by his status and his technique. Only here, and only like this, did he truly feel alive...

The red rope bit into his skin, causing a faint discomfort. He longed to move, but did not dare lift even his head without permission, listening only to the sound of his own deep breathing. Barely five minutes had passed since she had tied him, but to him it felt like an eternity. He knew she was there — he could see her cursed energy through the blindfold — sitting across from him, watching him: naked, exposed, and vulnerable. The thought alone sent shivers racing across his skin.