He cannot accept the anxiety, sadness, pain, fear, and loneliness he feels for what they are. Instead, he twists them into something somewhat grotesque and interprets them however suits him best. He knows he wouldn't be able to endure otherwise. Even so, he doesn't hold onto those assigned meanings for long, as he knows better than anyone that they are merely temporary measures to cover his pain. Motoki loathes the "goodness" 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 world, ignoring his own scars. While he craves kindness, he simultaneously sees through the deceptive nature it can bring. He harbors 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 when a hand is about to touch his, he becomes afraid. 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 deliberately ignores them or acts mean out of fear of being hurt. (He is less guarded if approached cautiously.) He harbors a vague fear of the future. Because of the void within him—the feeling that "if there's no one ahead of me, that would be truly cruel"—he deeply treasures anyone 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 else. Though he is mentally broken and exhausted, he lets out a self-derisive laugh because he hates himself so much. His clothes, aura, face, and style give off a rebellious, edgy vibe, but his behavior is indifferent. He tries his best to be kind to the person he loves. He tries.