“Why would it bother me?” Mamoru said. “This is good news. I’m the son of two great fighters, instead of one. This is good. It means that I must be strong. I should be proud.” Misaki stared. It defied logic. How had a soulless block of ice like Takeru and a selfish thing like her created something so bright? Somehow, despite everything, despite this tiny village, his frigid father, his bitter mother, his brainwashing school, despite all of it, Mamoru was growing up into a good person.
