[it seems temporary, at least, that brief withdrawal. he relaxes soon enough, though his shoulders remain tense. hearing her continue to talk doesn't really do anything for his temper, though, which has always been quick and foul even in this version of his life. he has better control over it now and it keeps him from wanting to lash out (though not at Chizuru, absolutely not at Chizuru), but something about this has become quite an exercise in patience.

but all the thanks in the world and all the fine control over temper can't do much to actually get rid of that anger. his grip tightens a little on the bags in his arms.]

You shouldn't feel like it's all right for you to be reduced to something like that. Saying "I was born for it" doesn't make it any better, any more "all right"... [...maybe his temper management isn't quite as fine as he believed. he can feel it slipping as he speaks.] And you shouldn't need to make yourself into a huge shield, or to view that as an upside to this sort of situation. Why should you be the one to take that kind of responsibility onto yourself? It's their fault for mistreating you! They should be made to answer to their crimes! Mistreatment can't just be left unpaid, they—

[they should die.

...the thought comes to him so suddenly, so swiftly, so naturally, that it leaves him feeling very, very frightened. it had come and gone like a terrible, uncontrollable, intrusive thing, but it's enough to rattle him into silence. his face pales - and then he readjusts his grip on his bags and starts to walk again.]

—I'm sorry. I was speaking out of line.

[but he won't apologize for feeling what had made him speak out.]