[It's not his arm they grab, nor their sweater. Perhaps thankfully for the both of them, it's not Chara's throat, either.
It's their hair. A sharp, rough yank at their scalp, unforgiving fingers digging in. And that action is not a monster technique. It's not a recent sensation at all.
It's old. It's so, eternally old that they'd almost forgotten the sensation entirely. It comes with the instinct to flinch, to raise one arm and cover their face- a momentary aberration, quickly rectified as survival instincts kick in and Chara stabs upwards blindly. Again, again, again, again, A g a i n, À̷͇͎͍̞͈̣͔͓̈́͋̂̈́̽̃̎̾̽ G̸̢̧̛̬͚̘̥̖̘͔̑̎͗̐̏̈́̈̚͜ Ǎ̷̺̱̮̻̟͌͂͗̂̇̍͛͌͢͠ Ȉ̶̯͚̩̦̭͕͌͘̕͝ Ņ̵̦̦͔̩͚̥̪̺̀̌͆͊́͌͞
tw: referenced child abuse
It's their hair. A sharp, rough yank at their scalp, unforgiving fingers digging in. And that action is not a monster technique. It's not a recent sensation at all.
It's old. It's so, eternally old that they'd almost forgotten the sensation entirely. It comes with the instinct to flinch, to raise one arm and cover their face- a momentary aberration, quickly rectified as survival instincts kick in and Chara stabs upwards blindly. Again, again, again, again, A g a i n, À̷͇͎͍̞͈̣͔͓̈́͋̂̈́̽̃̎̾̽ G̸̢̧̛̬͚̘̥̖̘͔̑̎͗̐̏̈́̈̚͜ Ǎ̷̺̱̮̻̟͌͂͗̂̇̍͛͌͢͠ Ȉ̶̯͚̩̦̭͕͌͘̕͝ Ņ̵̦̦͔̩͚̥̪̺̀̌͆͊́͌͞