Haruto fights his head up at the echoing squawk, and grinds out, "Nitoh, hurry--" He's never wished not to be a wizard. It's always been better than being powerless, or worse--dead, his body at the mercy of Dragon--but perhaps useless, he can at least not hurt anyone.

'It wasn't as though a lack of powers kept you from hurting people,' Dragon supplies, and Haruto cries out. "Shut up," he says, unable to push away Kazuya or the soccer field.

The peculiar feeling of his heart freezing up for a moment, and then beginning to beat again spreads another crack over his skin, and he collapses farther down, digging his fingers uselessly into the dirt. Anything to hold on to.