[ When she glances back at him, Tohsaka won't find any blame—nor forgiveness—in his eyes. Well, he doesn't think she has anything to apologize for, not to him—maybe to the man she'd killed. It's not that Tomura thinks anything of it, ethically, that she had committed a murder—moreover a murder that wouldn't even stick—but Tohsaka isn't the same kind as him. Rules or no, he doesn't think she would've taken it lightly if she'd ended that man's life for good, and that means her kill had been careless, a miscalculation, something that might warrant regret. That means it's luck—the twisted luck of their imprisonment in a world that defies nature—that an unintended death wouldn't dog her footsteps into the future.
He won't point it out. Far be it from him to kick her while she's down, whether she has realized her own mistake or just wishes to lick her wounds from defeat. In any case, this time her victim has taken his own eye for an eye. Tomura's only question is whether it had truly been only the luck of the Peacock's interference... ]
He got back up—without being taken away or removing his bracelet?
no subject
He won't point it out. Far be it from him to kick her while she's down, whether she has realized her own mistake or just wishes to lick her wounds from defeat. In any case, this time her victim has taken his own eye for an eye. Tomura's only question is whether it had truly been only the luck of the Peacock's interference... ]
He got back up—without being taken away or removing his bracelet?
[ This pattern sounds somewhat familiar. ]