For the entirety of the day, Kazuichi found himself in a bizarre state of clumsiness that was more than just an inconvenience. Every step he took seemed to leave a mark on the ground—literal cracks that spiderwebbed across the stone floor. The strength he'd gained during the fever had become a curse, and it was as if he couldn't control the raw power coursing through his veins.
"Damn it," Kazuichi muttered under his breath as he tried to pick up a cup, only for it to shatter in his grip. He stared at the broken pieces in disbelief. "What's wrong with me?"
Nearby, Arisu and Jurou exchanged glances, trying to stifle their laughter. It was hard not to find the situation amusing, even though they could see how much it was bothering Kazuichi.
"Kazuichi," Arisu called out, walking over to him. "You might want to go easy on things. At this rate, you'll end up breaking the whole camp."
