He watches with growing concern as Shinjirou drags himself forward. Had he pushed him too far? He's weak-limbed, shaky beyond belief, his every movement such an obvious strain that Jade wonders if he'll pass out.

But then Shinjirou starts nuzzling at his leg, and Jade knows he's alright for now. It's strange to have someone pressed up against him like that, stranger still to feel wetness soaking through the fabric of his slacks. But it doesn't inspire revulsion as he thought it would; if anything, he feels calm, almost peaceful.

Quiet and analytic, he looks down at Shinjirou, trying to determine if his actions are that of gratitude or a plea for mercy. It feels more like former, and Jade has to wonder if what he's planning to do next is necessary.

He bites down the good boy that rises to his throat, forcing his expression into a cold mask. With a swift movement, he kicks Shinjirou, carefully calculated to startle him rather than cause injury. He's had enough of that.

"I didn't tell you to stand down yet."