How many times has Riku thought something similar? Over two hundred nights since he lost everything and everyone who had been the most important to him, how many of those had a thought like that? How much time spent listening to the wind in the trees, to the lake slipping up against the shore, sitting before the graves of his friends on that hill that overlooked the boathouse they used to live in together?
He came here in higher spirits than he's been in a long time, sympathy reminds him of the reality of their shared experience. That he needs to be strong, to persevere, not just to keep a promise made to the dead, but to be present for those friends who remain.
"I'm with you," is all he can say, because he understands what that's like, but can offer no other balm than this. If he knew the answer, if he had a fix, he'd have saved himself months of heartache and despair. "Everyone else, too. We're not alone in this."
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How many times has Riku thought something similar? Over two hundred nights since he lost everything and everyone who had been the most important to him, how many of those had a thought like that? How much time spent listening to the wind in the trees, to the lake slipping up against the shore, sitting before the graves of his friends on that hill that overlooked the boathouse they used to live in together?
He came here in higher spirits than he's been in a long time, sympathy reminds him of the reality of their shared experience. That he needs to be strong, to persevere, not just to keep a promise made to the dead, but to be present for those friends who remain.
"I'm with you," is all he can say, because he understands what that's like, but can offer no other balm than this. If he knew the answer, if he had a fix, he'd have saved himself months of heartache and despair. "Everyone else, too. We're not alone in this."