Aya stepped back, staggered really but he didn't pay much attention to details right now. He stared down at Kikyo, betrayal and disappointment so clear on his unguarded expression, artless as ever. For the past three or four years, he had not displayed this much emotion. And it felt odd, like muscles unused to working were punched into action again.

"..." He had nothing to say. Nothing short angry declarations of 'you ruined me' or 'fuck you,' which wouldn't make him feel any better, yet he'd end up crying it out sooner or later anyhow.