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...Yes. I'm certain of that.

[She puts her cards away, then sort of settles herself back into a comfortable seated position on the mattress, now at last relieved of the necessity of being where she could turn and read the tarot spread.]

That...isn't to say I won't end up troubled by it. From what little I do know, I'm sure it's a troubling situation to speak of. But even if I'm upset, that doesn't mean I'm not also glad to have listened — and I think I'll prove more glad of it than I am upset, in the end.

...All right. In that case, I think we ought to start with the fact that I used to be a terrible person.

[There's no hesitation when he says it; if anything, his voice has gone a bit strange, far less flamboyant and more straightforward than the usual. Relaying fact, nothing more.]

I was the sort of terrible that you wouldn't want to associate with, Miss Everett - the sort that harmed people for pleasure. Because I could, because I...wanted to, because I had all sorts of reasons that you would find utterly reprehensible just the same. I'm different now, of course, but the fact is that I've done a lot of unforgivable things to many people.

I think I told you once about the kindest person I've ever met - he's the one who made me reconsider what I was doing, and inspired me to try to be a better person. He's someone I had harmed in the past, despite the fact that he had been nothing but kind to me; I...kept dwelling on that, I suppose, the fact that he'd been so good to me, and eventually I asked him for a second chance. He gave it to me, and I've been very devoted to him ever since. Banjou-san is in a similar position - something he did caused that person unspeakable harm, though it was accidental in his case.

We've been dedicated to protecting him with our lives ever since.

[He pauses for a moment. Plays with the fabric of his shirt a bit again.]

That person was brought here very recently, but he was brought from a point in time where he doesn't remember very much. He remembers when I was still a terrible person who wanted very badly to harm him for no good reason, and he barely remembers Banjou-san at all but he knows that he's from a group of people he has reason to hate. He doesn't trust either of us - as well he shouldn't, with memories like that - and it's been...difficult dealing with that, given that this is someone we've given our lives to.

[...on the one hand, that explanation is so exceedingly sanitized that you could call it a hospital and open it for business and parts of it are flat-out lies; on the other, the lies make up an impressively small portion of it and mostly exist just to cover the fact that he really doesn't want to get into "I nearly ate this person twice, the second time involved also trying to eat two separate and unrelated third parties, and I'm pretty sure we all completely desecrated a church" with his present company, and getting her involved by explaining anything about Aogiri Tree is a terrible idea.]

[She's glad, the longer the explanation goes on, that she'd given the caveat she had about becoming upset, because she does (given the subject matter, of course she does) and more importantly she does in a way that she knows she couldn't have suppressed no matter how hard she'd tried to hide it. She can tell from the way her throat grows tight and her fingers go cold that she's likely turned pale; it's undeniably hard to hear words like I used to harm people for pleasure without thinking of the tall, ash-blond doctor whose hatred she'd tasted in the moments before she'd died.

It makes her remember other things, too — his odd moments of reservation where she might've anticipated empathy, that day in the woods when he'd said so calmly, Sometimes you need to decide that your life is more important than someone else's.

She realizes, a few moments after the fact, that her fingers are pressed to her mouth, either in astonishment or in some emotion she can't place.

But what saves it, perhaps, is that he keeps talking, and gradually the things he's saying grow to sound much more like the Mr. Tsukiyama she knows — the sort of person who might look at his faults and seek to be better, to recognize a need for forgiveness and ask for it.

And, as it turns out, it's very hard to judge someone for confessing to reprehensible things when thoughts of that doctor have also brought back memories of her own, accusations of you self-serving narcissist and don't you have any self-consciousness about the fact that you're a monster escaped from your grave?

That young man named Percy had died right in front of her, and they'd taken the pieces of Emmeline and —

And in a way, horror or not, she almost has to envy him that calm, matter-of-fact tone in admitting to his sins, because she's certain she couldn't have if their roles were reversed.]

I-I see. You...w-want very much to help, and...to live up to your promise. But you can't, when he's forgotten the forgiveness you...remember him giving.

[Sometimes it pays to be an unreliable as hell narrator; now is one of those times. It's fortunate that the incident in the forest is overshadowed a bit by everything else he's shown her since then; more fortunate still that he's good at showing people what they want to see.

It's a familiar lie; it's one he's still giving Kaneki back home. The difference is that Kaneki doesn't want to believe it. But Meridiana does, and he doesn't really want to think about what might happen if she changes her mind; it'll just trouble him more than he already is right now.

The implications of that are also something he doesn't really want to think about right now; the list of things in that category is getting excruciatingly long.]

Yes, that's right.

I'm sorry for telling you all of that so suddenly, by the way; it's not pleasant to hear. Are you all right?

Some things are unpleasant enough, I-I think, that...there's simply no pleasant way of saying them.

[She's drawn in on herself, there's no mistaking that, but there's something in her posture that gives away the subtle difference between drawing in and drawing away; however pale she might be, and however shaken up, it doesn't seem as though fear is entering the equation — just a delicate constitution, and a lot of heavy subject matter to process all at once.]

...I don't know. Um, if I'm...quite all right. As you said, it's...it's something awful to hear, but...sometimes there's no escaping awful things.

[She falls silent a few moments.]

I...don't think you're a monster, even having done monstrous things. I don't think... —rather, I've known monsters, and I'm sure none of them would have asked for a second chance at all, much less sought to make good on it. It's simply a lot to take in at once, is all.

[It's that last part that gets him to lock up.]

Don't.

[The word leaves him before he can stop it; he shakes his head as though to clear it, letting his eyes slide closed for a moment. It's fine and he knows it, she's not getting at anything, she doesn't know because it's not possible for her to know, but just the same, that's the sort of thing that gets you a moment's relief and a next-day visit from men in suits and white trenchcoats, and if you're lucky Shinohara or Kureo Mado aren't among them and if you're good enough maybe your organs won't end up in a black case.

But there's something else in it that's pressing at him, because he's always been good enough, he's killed every single dove that's come his way and he's taken several of those cases for himself and he hadn't thought anything of using them, either, if the need had arisen; he doesn't fear the doves and so it follows that there must be something else, and it takes him a moment to place it but he thinks it has something to do with the church and that thing he'd brought there, and the way Nishiki had refused to fucking die no matter how many times he'd stabbed him, and he has to wonder if things like this were the reason why. Because there had been nice words and reassurances and statements like I don't want to see anyone hurt you again, and it's...that's repulsive, right? That's the sort of thing required by those who have been broken and ground down by their own weakness, it's not...

He shakes his head again, and he runs his fingers through his hair a bit before he continues.]

I know what you're trying to say, Miss Everett, and I do appreciate it, but it's not quite that simple. Don't misunderstand, you haven't done anything wrong, either, and I'm glad to know that you don't fear me; just...for now, worry about making sure you're going to be all right.

[That gets her to start, of course, and while it doesn't come precisely as a surprise to her that something's gone conversationally wrong, it still leaves her feeling at loose ends because suddenly she doesn't know quite what to think or what to say; her valiant attempt at the latter had been a feeble one at best, and to some extent she's glad he's relieved her of the effort of trying to make the best of the situation, but at the same time she's also left uncertain of what...precisely to do with all of it.

So ultimately, she ends up withdrawing a little more without really realizing it; she curls in and puts her chin down a little so that her hair will fall around her face like there's some security in that, and she still can't figure out the proper thing to say but even if she did, it'd be the wrong thing to be focusing on anyway.

Wildly, fleetingly, she catches her thoughts alighting on The Tower, and she's certain if her cards were still out that's the one her feelings would draw out again and again; there's a sort of vile irony to the imagery of that card in particular but even without holding it in her hand, the thought of it still lends some order and guidance. As selfish as always, her upset was as much because of her own change in situation as because of anything she'd just been told, wasn't it?

Doesn't she have to convince herself of something he's not, so as to hurry and distinguish him from the similarities he might share with the other men she's known before?

But then perhaps, like her cards, she's bringing too much of herself into the situation — although, his concern is for her too, and so maybe she's not, and maybe that's the distinction she's looking for too but as it is she's just shocked and confused all around at the moment.]

...

[And it would help if she could get words out, too.]

...Do you mind, i-if I ask you some things?

[And there's a tremble at the corner of her mouth, but after a little pause she adds something more to the request, almost without thinking — and maybe all the more honest because of it.]

I don't know how to tell if anything you'll say is honest, but...I'd still like to ask.

...I don't mind.

[...]

There are some things I would prefer not to discuss, but if you come across something like that, I'll let you know. Is that fair?

I...I think so.

[Which makes her brow furrow a bit, but only momentarily; then she just seems at a loss for where to begin, and casts around a bit before finding one.]

...Would you lie about something that was going to hurt me? Or deceive me, or...

[...And the person who'd done it to me had only let us all think that to make it worse when that hope was eventually taken away.

Damn it.]

Amore, I'm not going to just let anything hurt you - and if anyone thinks otherwise, they'll be answering to me before they can get to you. I'm certainly not going to hurt you myself, through deception or any other means.

[Oh. Well. It's not precisely accurate to call anything of what she does here "perking right up", but it's unmistakeable that something about that answer was very well-received. If she'd previously been curling in on herself, she's now been drawn a little more out again.]

Why...?

[Actually, that needs a little clarifying, um.]

What...made you decide that?

[...is he missing something here, or]

...I'm fond of you...?

[YOU KNOW, ISN'T THAT SOMETHING YOU...DO...]

It's a bit strong for simple fondness, I should think!

[Holy shit, is that personality.

...That might be personality, apparently it is personality o'clock again, sing hallelujah.]

Isn't that the same sort of thing you said about that kind person of yours? And I can't possibly be such an inspiration, so why...

[are you sure though because it looks like the Bad At Feelings Power Hour from this end]

Strong or not, it's the way things are, so- ...listen, I don't see why an explanation is so important, if it suits you perhaps we can forget that I said anything, I...

[NO REALLY WHY]

[OH HOW THE TABLES HAVE SOMEWHAT INEXPLICABLY AND UNEXPECTEDLY ABRUPTLY TURNED.]

I'd not like to forget you've said anything — surely it's not something you say to everyone?

Well, no, of course not.

[OKAY THERE HE ADMITTED TO PART OF THE THING CAN WE DROP THE REST OF THE THING NOW]

W-Well, if it's...something about me then—

[...]

...Then perhaps I just don't want you to have a mistaken idea of me, either!

...I'm sorry?

[...o...kay, this is either going to be something completely Victorian or it's going to go south immediately, and he's got his money on zero to shitshow in point-six.]

How do you mean?

When I was young, I wanted something like that very much. It sounds rather a bit like a knight in shining armor, doesn't it, when you put it that way? Or a Prince Charming.

[There's a wobble at the corners of her mouth again.]

Then I met someone like that, and we were to be married, until I became more of a nuisance than I was worth and he tricked me into being rid of me.

My mother loved me and did awful things to innocent people for love of me, and my keeper played at loving me but really only despised and used me, and a gentleman loved me and was killed for me, and another abandoned his fiancée for me and promised we'd live happily together where I'd be safe...and he was wrong.

[Unconsciously, she touches her fingers to her chest, remembering the jolt of pain where the blade had gone in.]

And it's not that I'd like to presume or put you off or— ...I just, I can't stand to be hurt again. I just can't. And it's not that I think you will, it's just the opposite, it's that I want to believe you so badly but I'm afraid to believe it if it's...founded on something that might change...

A-And if I don't know what it's founded on at all, then how can I know whether to be afraid?

[And for a good long moment he just...stares.]

...not to offend you, Miss Everett, but...I don't recall saying that I'm in love with you?

[...there must have been a better way to put that.]

Don't misunderstand me, mademoiselle, you're a beautiful person, but it isn't love that's caused me to make that sort of decision.

[He rakes his hands back through his hair; what the hell has tonight even become...]

Ah, I don't know if this is making the situation better or worse...but it really is fondness, you know. I don't come to care about people very easily, and so when I do I don't tolerate them being harmed any; that's what this is, and it's not anything that I can really see changing anytime soon.

...W-Well, you hadn't said that you weren't!

[...And you know, he'd called the possibility of this suddenly getting really painfully Victorian a few minutes ago, and that suspicion may just prove to be prophetic, because she's just kind of quiet and reserved for a little while after, during which she's honest to god trying to wrap her mind around the notion of determined, fervent protectiveness absent either love, chivalry, or simply wanting something.

...She's trying really hard.]

A-And I'd...still not like you to have a wrong idea of me, anyway. I'm too fond of you for all that, when it only causes trouble.

[...There's no real way to express "I'm kind of territorial" without this getting even more awkward than it already is, so he'll just allow her to be Victorian as hell over there, if no one minds.]

Nothing you've said has changed my mind, if that's a concern.

...If we're speaking plainly, I think I'd rather the fondness anyway. You...really haven't any expectations on me?

[CHOO CHOO VICTORIANISMS KEEP RIGHT ON ROLLING ALONG.]

...I suppose it must seem as though we've gotten very off-track from where we started, but it's...simply put, I don't think I've any right to say what makes someone deserve happiness, or to say that it has anything to do with what they might've done or the sort of person they've once been. And...lest you think I'm only being kind to you without thinking of myself in saying so, that's something I think — or don't think, rather — because I'm selfish enough to still wish for happiness, myself.

You've always been kind to me. I'd not like to be afraid of you, is all, or to be afraid while living a life near you. ...Or afraid at all if it could be helped; as I said, I'm so very tired of that.

[...and because it's just been that sort of night where everything has been hideously stressful despite the fact that she intended to bring it over to the exact opposite of that and as such Tsukiyama's thought process is taking a while to recover, it takes him a moment to follow with regards to "expectations"; he's already verified that he's not here because he wants something and he is absolutely certain she's not pregnant through any fault of his, and about half a second after that thought hits he's very grateful that he's managed to keep his mouth shut and just let the girl keep talking.]

The reason I say things are more complicated than whether I deserve happiness or not is due to things that really only matter back in Tokyo - those things that I won't talk about. They're irrelevant here, but that doesn't mean I can ignore them altogether.

It has nothing to do with letting you be hurt by anyone, though, myself or otherwise. I'm not going to harm you, nor will I allow anything of the sort from anyone else. I can promise you that much.

...Thank you. I really have been very happy here.

[And that, of all things, is what proves to call up a little dampness to her eyes, but she's quick to rub it away before it ever approaches anything close to tears — for her own sake as much as for his comfort.]

I would offer to speak with your friend on your behalf, and happily so, but...I imagine you'd not like to have me in the middle of things, much less in a place where I'm likely to hear awful things about you. Would you?

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