[She stuffs some pretzels into her mouth, buying herself time to chew and crunch before she has to answer him. It's hard not to have a retort right on the tip of her tongue — you shouldn't ignore things that are good for you just because they're hard — but no, that's a conversation for another time. There's already a lot weighing down this one.]

I guess you don't remember, but...you used to draw me a lot. Most of your drawings ended up on the fridge in your house, but sometimes you'd make me take one home and promise to keep it. I just thought it'd be funny, to see how much you've improved since then.

[What weak humor it is, but it's there. He's a professional mangaka now, and she's talking about seeing improvement from crayon sketches made of wobbly lines. Ridiculous.

But then it turns out her hunch was right, after all. He wasn't brushing her off; he'd just been caught up in thinking about what she'd told him. He comes back around to the story eventually, in the end.]

No. I don't regret it.

[Her voice is soft, but it's not weak in the slightest.]

I'd do it again, every time.