[Some part of Kagari realizes that this, right here...this is the one thing he's wanted more than anything his entire life--for someone to tell him it was okay to be who he was. That there wasn't something deeply, fundamentally wrong with him, nothing that ought to be different.

Ironically, now that it's right there, within his grasp, he can't put his hands around it. It feels like a trap, even though Kagari knows Juno would do no such thing. Something catches in his throat--fear, maybe, or something like it. After all, if there's nothing wrong with him, then that means he suffered for nothing, all those years. More than that, though, he just can't...believe it. Some things are just too good to be true.

He looks away from Juno again, back out the window.]

Sure, you can say that, but you do. When stuff happens, you're out there thinking like, how can I help? That's not me. You can't say there isn't a difference.