[That question, candid and abrupt, catches her off guard.]
[Shinichi knows her well -- better than almost anyone, with perhaps the exception of her parents. What he doesn't know, he can often deduce. There's probably no use in hiding, but she can't help feeling suddenly exposed by the question. Staring at her phone in the wake of it, she's quiet, a flush creeping to her cheeks. She pulls her eyes away as though he were right there, watching her face and waiting for an answer.]
[Still, the question is there, and no matter how long she avoids it, it'll be waiting for her to answer.]
I'm scared.
[She's already admitted to this, and it's easiest.]
And overwhelmed.
This place . . . it's nothing like home. We're supposed to take on responsibilities we never would have had, lie to the people around us and be people we aren't . . .
Someone took our memories. They took us from our world and planted us here and made us forget who we were. And the only way out is to pull out our own hearts and fight . . . but if we lose, we'll be exactly like all the people who apparently came before us. And if that happens, I don't think we'll ever see home.
It's hard to be okay. It's hard to pretend everything is all right.
And it's the worst at night when it's quiet and empty and only just me.
private message
[Shinichi knows her well -- better than almost anyone, with perhaps the exception of her parents. What he doesn't know, he can often deduce. There's probably no use in hiding, but she can't help feeling suddenly exposed by the question. Staring at her phone in the wake of it, she's quiet, a flush creeping to her cheeks. She pulls her eyes away as though he were right there, watching her face and waiting for an answer.]
[Still, the question is there, and no matter how long she avoids it, it'll be waiting for her to answer.]
I'm scared.
[She's already admitted to this, and it's easiest.]
And overwhelmed.
This place . . . it's nothing like home. We're supposed to take on responsibilities we never would have had, lie to the people around us and be people we aren't . . .
Someone took our memories. They took us from our world and planted us here and made us forget who we were. And the only way out is to pull out our own hearts and fight . . . but if we lose, we'll be exactly like all the people who apparently came before us. And if that happens, I don't think we'll ever see home.
It's hard to be okay. It's hard to pretend everything is all right.
And it's the worst at night when it's quiet and empty and only just me.
I'm scared. I can't stop being scared.