Frustrating. Jade isn't very interesting to look at. Not as interesting as all the masters tending to their slaves. Furrowing his brows, Shinjirou looks him in the eye at last, though his gaze strays even now. "Hah," he groans, lips barely parted, and watches Jade massage his legs. Heat follows the insects which isn't comfortable either at first, though he can feel his toes again ... that's good news.

Eventually, he puts one hand on the wall and tries to pull himself up. His face twists, something in his chest stabbing him from the inside out. He stands, but hunched and uncertain, one hand cupping a dark, swollen bruise on the lower end of his rib cage.