[As soon as he touches down, it's not long before Fuuma's crumbling, falling down onto his knees and bending over into himself, gripping onto himself, nails threatening to turn to claws, to tear into himself. He restrains himself, though, and settles for just being completely tensed up, his eyes squeezed shut]
I don't know, okay? [Taking the sound of his name as an accusation, becoming defensive despite himself. He's so useless, so weak, so pathetic... he can't even handle being a human, much less a vampire. He can't do anything right. He can't adjust. He can't settle down. He can't be like all the others who have turned long before him.]
[Mumbles quietly to himself, a variation of 'I don't know' and nonsense words, mutterings to himself about how hungry he is, how he wants to find this person or that person, that he'll be unable to rest until he does. Almost ravings.]