[ He puts that shirt back and opts for sifting through other ones. A high-necked black sweater-- simple as can be --wins the race. ]

People know. Many people do. That's another reason. If there is a witch hunt for Fog followers, then I might be high on the list. [ He doesn't answer her yet again, choosing to wriggle into the garment first. His head pops out from the collar. ]

Anyone I hurt will blame me. I worry the ones I care about enough with what I do. [ His hand palms over his chest to adjust his key necklace underneath it that has started to get warm. Wearing it outside of his shirt is a bad idea right now. But it's there. ] This is a very difficult situation, Chie... There are people I legitimately hate on the other side of this. I want them dead. I do.

Yet killing is a distasteful act. Being one of Her followers has not been easy, nor has it been morally right by my standards when it comes to the things I have done. Wanting to harm others while simultaneously not wanting harm others is a limbo I never thought I would find myself in.

... Nor is it one I ever wanted to face.