"Why? Why?" he whispered hoarsely, his voice choked with pain and disbelief. His hand moved with fervor, his touch rough and desperate, as if he could scrub away the haunting memories etched into his very being. Each stroke, each motion, was an act of desperate denial, an attempt to erase the evidence of the horrors he had unwittingly become entangled in.
His eyes, bloodshot and brimming with unshed tears, resembled a broken dam struggling to contain the emotional flood within. But the tears seemed to blend seamlessly with the water, lost in the swirling currents that carried away the remnants of his guilt and anguish.
As the tears merged with the water, Erwin's cries morphed into silent sobs, his grief flowing freely and unseen. He remained immersed in the pool; the water serving as both sanctuary and purifier, as if by submerging himself, he could wash away not only the physical stains but also the burden of his guilt-ridden soul.
