[ He's trying to process it. And, while he's glad to be alive. He wonders, really, if there was a way to save her. It's silly to think he could have done something. He was small - only four - when she died. A child. Still, he can't help his imagination coming up with every scenario in which Reimi lives. One in which he grew up watching her. When he looked up to her. One in which Kira just never got to do what he did.

He scoops up a bag of cookies and potato chips, propping himself to lean against the chair she chose. Staying close, still. He shrugs. ]

It's not supposed to be good for me. It's supposed to be easy.

[ At her question, he looks up. ]

Yes, I can. I have a couple at home, but they didn't get to come with me.

[ Hm... Hm. He ponders. But, he almost has to ask. Maybe this will help him deal with it. If he hears her answer this one question he has on his mind. ]

Do you regret doing what you did?