During the draft, I was forced to kill many people. And two gods. Moro, the guardian of the forests here, was infected and put down by a group of warriors. She has not returned yet.

[She pushes rice and clear miso over to the boy before taking a seat, though the shiver is not lost on her.]

When I do things like that, it changes me. They are necessary things, this I cannot deny, but they are not things a human should do. I am not human, but I hold fast to humanity. If I act distant and inhuman I will slip away, and become something wholly not human. I do not wish this, because I love humans. If I were to lose my humanity, I wouldn't wear this form. I'd be in my true shape, yes, but my true shape is a frightful thing, beautiful and terrible. You saw shades of it before, when I lost control a month ago, but...if I let myself go without people to anchor me in my humanity...I will become something dreadful.

In brief, the more things that push me towards inhuman choices, the more inhuman I will become. Permanently. And that...worries me.