no subject

...? A memory other than the day of the hunt?

[ It's the only one he can think of, though he can't say that he recalls it with much anger, let alone rage.

(His head hurts slightly, another faint twinge that comes back to him in waves of sorrow:

" Presumptuous puppet— no matter what, you're only a Servant. "

" If you're so dissatisfied, then try using that pride and honor of yours to fight my Command Spells. ")

Involuntarily, his expression twists. Gold eyes turn sharp, one hand balling into a tight fist. ]

—I can't recall anything else.

[ There's a coil of guilt after he says so, as if a part of him knows that that's a lie. ]