Kyu-Sik half-hoped that Donovan had forgotten to bring it, but he knew that the man had kept it with him ever since that day in the park. Though he wouldn’t have done it now, a morbid part of him did wonder how much they could have sold it for that day at the pawn shop. It was a rather gaudy tool, made for him by a society that respected him. A tool he had apparently used to prove his obedience to that same society. A tool used to prove their devotion to their god. Having a life at your hands was never easy. Some enjoyed the power, but Kyu-Sik dealt with it silently, modestly. He hadn’t asked for it. But he wasn’t going to be anything but grateful for everything he had been given. He had to be a leader. An example. He knew all too well that those who wouldn't be examples when asked were made into examples.
His breath quietly hitched when his fingers wrapped around the dagger’s handle. He took it with a reluctance, not eager for what was to come next. He knew he would never be ready, but he had to be.
He had to be. “No,” he answered in a whisper.
Any sort of emotion that could have been read on him seeped from his body, from his face, from his breath, from his voice. For him, it seemed the air was holding still. “You can’t come back with me.”