In the beginning, he had sought fervently. Everything—from the smallest raindrop to the largest mountain—overflowed with potential meaning and purpose. But as each proposed solution only resulted in more questions, he began to despair.

On the six hundred and sixty-sixth day of his journey, enlightenment struck.

The answer did not exist.

Courage and cowardice were merely masks for each other. Life was death was life. Lies were truth was false. Sanity was sheer insanity, and madness was the profoundest sense.

All was absurdity, absurdities within absurdities.

He laughed until he cried, and then cried until he laughed again.

Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress’ Notes:
What can I say, I have a thing for psychotic pretty boys, and Soujirou’s definitely got quite a bit of emotional baggage to work through.