[She makes an oof noise and holds on tight, closing her eyes and pressing her forehead on his shoulder. This is just...peak Essence of Sakamoto right here, the carefree physicality, the overflowing sentiment. He smells different - NOT TO BE WEIRD ABOUT IT, that's just something you notice about a person, and the food and the air here are different - and she's put on a little bit of weight, but there's still perfect continuity. Six months and a transcendence of human nature later, and it's still dizzying to remember that there is/was/will be a future. This is it, and there's more to come, and they're in it. Not everyone! She can't go a day without remembering who's waiting - who doesn't have the capacity to know they're even waiting, at this point, for a save - but wholehearted solemnity doesn't contradict wholehearted joy, and Ryuji Sakamoto is alive.
Alive and wearing little monkey slippers.]
No, the rest of them are fine. It's just that kind. [And speaking of Essence of Ryuji, who would he be without oversharing? Stopping that up entirely would be a crime against the universe.
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Alive and wearing little monkey slippers.]
No, the rest of them are fine. It's just that kind. [And speaking of Essence of Ryuji, who would he be without oversharing? Stopping that up entirely would be a crime against the universe.