“I want,” was the first Japanese phrase Mukuro taught Ken. (The first words had been ‘us’ and ‘them’). He was unquestionable in his knowledge, because he had a way of shrugging his shoulders, laughing, affirming everything they had wanted to believe in. It had been his idea to lean over the dictionary (bought, borrowed, or stolen?) and scroll down the words to find one they liked. To pick out the meanings and little lines that made pictured words, kanji, he had said. They didn’t have to ask him how he knew, because he always knew.
“I am,” Mukuro said, different.