The way Yamagi talks, it almost feels like he's been away on some strange vacation. He barely remembers his last moments in space. He knows the raw and tearing desperation and despair that had drowned him after pulling the trigger, but as for what had happened to him and to everyone, he can't recall any of it. It's probably some mechanism in him keeping him safe from the truth of the heavy guilt he's suffering. He knows he fucked up. He knows he's gone. Beyond that, it's weird and ephemeral, just like he feels being in this place. Looking at the sharpened features of Yamagi's aged face this closely reminds him of it.

"I knew I was hauling too much on you sometimes. I kinda hoped, even if you were annoyed, that you'd forgive me soon enough. Even now, I'm probably still gonna do stuff that'll piss you off."

It's not like he grew up. In fact, he feels like he's taken steps backward.

He doesn't expect the kiss. A part of him figured Yamagi had moved on and was speaking out of regret for not saying anything before. A part of him hoped he had left him in the past. He was a disappointment. He wasn't worth his lingering feelings.

He feels his stomach ache in a way he doesn't understand. He smiles up at him, but it's coated with a weariness he hasn't shown yet since they arrived here.

"I was happier that you scolded me. There was no point in wasting that luck on me."