[Crow sighs, closing his book and leaning back. Staring up at the sky, he's quiet for a moment before responding, without his usual enthusiasm. It's like when he told Rean about his past. The weariness, the uncertainty in a tone that tries to remain light and flippant.

It's not a big deal. It's not worth getting upset about. It's not worth sympathy, even though it's the single biggest thing weighing on him now.]

I've been hoping you'd forget you wanted to talk, to be honest. I don't know what I'm supposed to say. You keep going on about wanting to know everything, like it'll all work out if I just tell you what I'm thinking. I want to tell you you're wrong, but I can't. Every time I've thought it's too late to fix anything, you've looked at fate and said "up yours", and it's turned out fine. But that's what bothers me, and that's why I don't want to talk. But I already blew it, so... I dunno. It's past the point where I can get away from it. Right?