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[peripheries]

"Ah, you've reached Nagisa but I'm away from the communication device. I'll have to return your call at a later time".

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[peripheries]

[He watches her, curiously, as she works through her thoughts. He tries to imagine the beast with any control in the face of that insatiable desire to consume in attempt to fill a void of those it lost across infinite instances in time and space.

And as he opens his mouth to explain to her that could not be possible that it was against the very nature of the beast, he touches on a memory. Feather light, so thin that it's almost as though he can't reach for it to examine it. A voice, her voice, ringing out above the surface and in that moment it reached his ears through roaring waves of the mess of corruption and deep sea that was the Leviathan. A reminder that he was himself, and he was not this beast. They had not, and would not become one.

He stares at her, so intently and without blinking that it's probably a little unnerving.]

I heard your voice. After... it... After I became part of the beast. I heard it.

[laniidae]

You — became part of it?

[That's the problem with madness and chaos on the level of what hit the beach that day; it's impossible to see everything, or even most things, or even really anything except what's immediately in front of you or what you're looking for. But that — well. Now she's got more detailed information than just he died, doesn't she.

And then, gradually, it comes back to her. The day they met, when he was ill. When he wasn't scrying like anyone else was. He was talking to the monster, from far away. And then it came, and he...became part of it.]

You...you heard me, and...?

[peripheries]

That's right. It was able to submerge the conscious parts of my soul within its own and gain control.

[There's an involuntary shudder that he tries to suppress. It comes out as a little tremble. Then, he leaps off his perch, landing impossible soft on the ground. His gaze never leaves her. Like if he looks away, she might not actually be there.]

I said I'd keep you safe. I wanted to.

and now that i am back from vacation, sorry about the delay!

[laniidae]

Then that was you.

[He's not the only one not daring to look away; her eyes, with hints of the white showing around each of them, track him from perch to descent until he's landed in front of her, waiting to be regarded — or maybe scrutinized.]

You made it...spare me. Just long enough.

[And she almost says why, because it's the next most natural question, but I wanted to really sort of covers that, or at least as much of an answer as she knows she's likely to get out of Kaworu regardless.]

Do you think it was worth it?

no worries! welcome back!

[peripheries]

[He cocks his head, still not breaking the gaze that connects them. It's odd to hear that question. A question he knows he would ask. He cannot simply accept an action on its face. He has to understand if the choice was made with full awareness of the consequences or the implications. Too often, humans forgo asking these questions because they fear the answer.

But she didn't fear it.

So all he can do is nod.]

Yes. It was.

[laniidae]

You and a lot of people.

[More than she's usually willing to admit. It's one of the things she usually conspicuously omits when she presents her own biased perspective on the witcher who killed her: that he tried to save her too, more than once, because he thought she was worth saving.

The more and more than those people add up, the harder it is to assume that they're all wrong.]

...So. Does that mean I should thank you, or...?

[Oddly, of all the people she knows, Kaworu is probably the only one who'll instantly grasp that it's not the insult a more socially well-adjusted person might think that sounds like. Neither one of them knows the courtesies for this sort of thing, probably. It's a genuine, honest question.]

[peripheries]

No. I don't think so. I did it because I wanted to save you but I had no way of knowing if I could. I'm... glad that it worked.

[He understands. He would ask the same question. He gives her a small half-smile, something that borders on the edge of trying to be reassuring.]