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For Himura, and to protect Japan from demons like Shishio.(Shishio advances on Houji, hand outstretched. Houji, backed against a wall, can only scream.)Shishio: Shut up.(He presses his palm against Houji's forehead.)Houji (thinking): What... this... how can his temperature be so high... ?! What on earth... Shishio: Ten years ago when my entire body was burned, my sweat glands were completely destroyed. I lost the ability to regulate my body heat through perspiration. According to the doctors, I shouldn't be able to live sustaining such a high temperature. It's what I have left from the flames of Hell. It's not just my arms. Legs. Belly. Chest. My entire body continues to burn. And of course, (pointing to his head) here as well. So my voice became pure heat, without a trace of coolness. And one day I began to speak the truth.Man's true nature is violence, and this world is Hell. Shishio: Himura Battousai denies his true nature and desperately clings to reason. The new government hides. Around its neck, he discovered the bracelet. No ordinary collar, the adornment looked a practical thing, more device than jewelry. The cat was barely alive and made no protestation when the doctor gently removed the unusual circlet from its neck. The intricate bracelet he then examined turned out to be the only useful article recovered from the assemblage of otherwise inanimate objects.Two groups of mathematical symbols were etched into the metallic surface of one of the bracelet's links, and the other sections seemed un-naturally warm to the touch, but yielded no other clues as to the nature of the device. Dr. Fielding guessed that it was placed around the animal's neck as more than mere identification, and postulated that it was put there to function as a locater to bring the feline back to the lab at the completion of the experiment.That theory was the only hope we had of ever finding our way home, and the bracelet soon focused our collective attention on divining its function. It.
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’ And that was when Terry realized it. He had always viewed Naomichi as a supporting character, the comic relief in his life, the schlub that made him stand out as truly unusual, especially for his profession. But there was a story with Naomichi at its centre too, a story of long loneliness followed by unexpected romance and the joyous embrace of mutual nerdery. And he had been too self-involved to even notice it was going on. But then again, every one of the millions in Tokyo, of the billions around the world, were the star of a story, a narrative every bit as worthwhile as anyone else’s. It was a simple, almost banal epiphany, but he thought that maybe the world would be a better place if people started paying attention to others’ stories, realized that they may only be another supporting character. Like another in a long line of perverted, uncaring boyfriends. ‘I… I have to go write,’ Terry said. Naomichi scratched his head, looking embarassed. ‘Sorry… I’ll get dressed.’ Terry was.

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