[Reaching up, he touches the center of his chest with the tips of his fingers, brows furrowing.] It feels strange. [He's not sure how to describe it, but it isn't a nice feeling.]
Like... [His smile is faint, and tight and wry. He can't stop the sting to his eyes even if he squints.] ...a Buddha is sitting on it.
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[Reaching up, he touches the center of his chest with the tips of his fingers, brows furrowing.] It feels strange. [He's not sure how to describe it, but it isn't a nice feeling.]
Like... [His smile is faint, and tight and wry. He can't stop the sting to his eyes even if he squints.] ...a Buddha is sitting on it.