Why not you? I swear, you heroic types are all the same, it's always oh, I couldn't, and no, I'd feel awful-- you know something? Eto told me, once, that she didn't feel that much of a need to go home. That she could be at peace with it, too.

She told Four that. I asked her if she knew it when she killed her.

[he's bristling, still, hair tentacles writhing.]

You never-- you never ask what other people want. None of you. I mean it, don't you fucking die for my sake, I can't do that again.