...They used to live in a village, by a well. And...the bar, there were words scratched on the counter, but they were all garbled. He said someone's name, and that was garbled too.
There were a lot of words like that. It was like the memory didn't want me to learn them yet.
[So hard to put together in his head. He wishes suddenly that he could see what she saw; that he could experience and hear it the same way Tifa did. He's relying only on his imagination, which has no point of reference.]
I don't know what to say. Am I... supposed to start remembering all of this, too, now? And what does it all mean?
[Maybe, she thinks, she should've waited on this. But it had been too strange to keep to herself.]
I can't say for sure. It'd be odd if you're in my memories, and I'm not in yours. That would make things even weirder. I have a childhood friend. I've lived here my whole life...
[...] I don't know what it means. But if I figure it out, I'll be sure to tell you.
[What else is he supposed to say to that? He can't demand answers from her, when it's so obvious that she has none. But he's left with a multitude of questions, an unsatisfactory feeling of having been presented with a hugely incomplete narrative, and nothing more.
It isn't her fault. But it is a little mind-boggling, vacillating on the edge of frustrating.]
That's fair. I haven't had any of these... memory things yet, but if I do, I think it would make sense to, well. To let you know. Right?
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no subject
[To say the least.
Honestly, he doesn't even know what else to say at this point. He has a lot of questions, but he wonders just how much she can answer.]
What else do you remember?
no subject
There were a lot of words like that. It was like the memory didn't want me to learn them yet.
no subject
[So hard to put together in his head. He wishes suddenly that he could see what she saw; that he could experience and hear it the same way Tifa did. He's relying only on his imagination, which has no point of reference.]
I don't know what to say. Am I... supposed to start remembering all of this, too, now? And what does it all mean?
no subject
[Maybe, she thinks, she should've waited on this. But it had been too strange to keep to herself.]
I can't say for sure. It'd be odd if you're in my memories, and I'm not in yours. That would make things even weirder. I have a childhood friend. I've lived here my whole life...
[...] I don't know what it means. But if I figure it out, I'll be sure to tell you.
no subject
[What else is he supposed to say to that? He can't demand answers from her, when it's so obvious that she has none. But he's left with a multitude of questions, an unsatisfactory feeling of having been presented with a hugely incomplete narrative, and nothing more.
It isn't her fault. But it is a little mind-boggling, vacillating on the edge of frustrating.]
That's fair. I haven't had any of these... memory things yet, but if I do, I think it would make sense to, well. To let you know. Right?
If you don't mind it.
no subject
[A weak little laugh.]
I'm sorry for dumping all of this on you out of nowhere.
no subject
[That much is said with quickness, with certainty.]
I want to know. Even if it's confusing and a little disturbing, I'm glad you told me.