[ she's told herself that her sticking so close isn't really... about ai. that she knows what losing parents—loving parents, the kind of parent ai clearly wants to be—does to a kid. and even with all of the blowback he might face, the eyes on him now, it terrifies her to think they might not be done with the twins' father. there's an obvious nightmare scenario that she can't be sure they've avoided.

kotone knows that in the worst case, a kid's clearest memory of their mother can be their very last. what haunts them when they close their eyes. but even then, that doesn't account for even half of what she's done up to now, does it? kotone watches aqua as he settles into place, resisting the impulse to reach out to the baby as well. ]

Hey, I'm just curious! [ she huffs a quiet laugh, not exactly a mirthful one, but honest. ] And... dunno, guess I thought I'd have been overstepping, before. [ but she listens, as ai explains her motivation. it... makes a lot of sense, really. some part of kotone—a small part—wants to ask the obvious question: "what about us?"

she quashes the thought as soon as it comes. whatever ai is to her, again—family isn't right. and since when the hell did she think of herself, saitou and miyako as an us, in any sense of the word? at all? ]

Really lucky. Even if... y'know. The circumstances. [ she closes her notebook, opening her schoolbag by the couch and slipping it back inside. ]

What are you feeling like for dinner? I don't mind cooking, if we've got the stuff.