[ It's been two hours. Ryoji wants to gape at her and ask her how she's so certain. How he can accept something that's been forced upon him— from Retrospec, that has plagued him with nightmares of memories and a crumbling reality— how can he face these things and hold his hands out to them and say "okay"? When it would be easier to blame and hate and deny?

He looks at his hands, clasped in his hands. They once held a sword, covered with blood. ]

Do you think it would be enough? If we could coexist, but... knowing that I will never call it out again. I don't think I would ever need to- or want.