[ As he talks, she slowly leans into him. Not in a handsy way, in a 'I'll literally fall flat on my face if you move' way. Her face ends up buried in his shoulder, hands meeting at the small of his back; fingers twitching against him as her adrenaline slowly ebbs away. It makes her feel like a complete moron that he has Yoru figured out, while Asa still... even now, she still— ]

I thought she cared about me. [ She hasn't said it out loud before. Hasn't really allowed herself to even think it, though she was always vaguely aware, and never moreso than when Yoru loaded the gun that was her arm and made Asa's finger pull the trigger. That betrayal is still something she's processing, or rather, doing her best not to, so she doesn't completely break down again over what she did. ] But she's a monster. They all are! Every single devil... I wish they'd all just die.

[ As long as she clung to the assurance of eventually getting her body back, she could pretend she was different. But what's the point anymore? What moral high ground can she claim? She'll never be free of the War Devil, not really. Her arms will always be these — these things. She'll always remember the taste of someone else's blood in her mouth. When she says that devils should all die, she's absolutely including herself in that. ]

... I'm tired. [ She doesn't mean sleepy, though... well. She is sleepy, too. ]