⟡— jouno’s hand is directly over his heart.
he’s feeling the steel spirit of a righteous man as it shatters, and he doesn’t gloat. doesn’t experience even a hint of pride or satisfaction. he stands silent to mourn the death of justice in their hearts.
tecchou could’ve pushed jouno off, easily, and yet he doesn’t. he trusts, stays in the hold that guides him to the ground. and it’s debatable whether he even understands the scope of the situation. justice seems a pure, untainted thing in his eyes, whilst it’s bloodstained to everyone else.
he’s atoning, laying the highest level of his respect down just as it were when he promised to uphold the honor of his sword. both him and teruko had intentions of dying for or alongside their commander, an honor which is refused to them.
both times he does this, jouno is the one at his side to behold it. there’s a significance to that, the lack of satisfaction it brings to him, the inevitability of the way he perceives things. “i knew this would happen”, he said in the cafe as tecchou made his promise. he knew here, too.
