“I just needed to sleep; it wasn’t personal,” he murmured, focusing intently on his fidgeting hands to avoid my gaze. “During the war, to desensitize us, our superiors played the harrowing screams of dying men over the speakers in our barracks. Initially, it was deeply unsettling, but over time, I couldn’t sleep without it.” He yawned, revealing the dark circles under his eyes. “I see,” I responded, sitting across the table from the soldier. “And this justifies your actions?” Lifting his gaze briefly, he met my eyes, then quickly averted them. “No, not at all. What I did was inexcusably selfish.” He began to pull at his fingers, tugging each knuckle as if removing an unseen pair of gloves. “Then…