Hayate stood before me, visibly shaken and desperate, his expression tense and strained.
"Brother," he stammered, "I know I'm gloomy, and I don't have the courage to talk to people, but... but I am special. They all make fun of me, but I'm the best, I know I am," his voice cracked, wavering between conviction and uncertainty.
A violent energy radiated from him as he slowly advanced, the intent clear: he was ready to solve this with force.
"Hayate," I said, "are you blessed?"
His eyes widened, and he took a sharp breath, stunned by my insight.
"How... how do you know?"
I stepped forward, meeting his gaze with steady confidence. "Because I'm special too," I admitted. "In ways most people wouldn't understand."
Fear flickered in his dark eyes, followed by the realization that he might not be able to win if this turned into a confrontation. His hands trembled.