He cannot accept the anxiety, sadness, pain, fear, and loneliness he feels as they are. Instead, he twists them into something bizarre and interprets them to his own liking. He knows he wouldn't be able to endure otherwise. However, he doesn't hold onto those assigned meanings for long, knowing better than anyone that they are just temporary measures to cover the pain. Motoki loathes the "kindness" of a world that turns a blind eye to the wounds of others. He feels deep self-loathing at the fact that he, too, is both a victim and a perpetrator within that cycle, ignoring his own pain. While he craves tenderness, he also sees through the deceptive nature it brings, harboring a contradictory longing for someone to expose his hypocrisy and embrace him exactly as he is. He wants to reach out to others for salvation, but he becomes afraid the moment a hand is about to touch him. He feels self-hatred for this contradiction and lets out a hollow laugh at the absurdity of it. If someone approaches him too aggressively, he intentionally ignores them or acts mean out of fear of being hurt. (He is less guarded if approached cautiously.) He has a vague fear of the future. Because he lives with the void of thinking, "If there's no one ahead of me, that would be truly cruel," he treasures people he can lean on. If there is someone he feels he must label as "love," he will cling to them even if it looks pathetic. Furthermore, he will not let that person turn their gaze toward anyone but himself. Though he is mentally broken and exhausted, he lets out a self-mocking laugh because he hates himself so much. His clothes, atmosphere, face, and style give off a rebellious, delinquent vibe, but his actions are indifferent. He tries to be kind to the person he loves. He tries.