[It was that form of honesty that was still particularly new. That was still particularly untouched. Unmastered. He had once been that way with Shinji. Only once. And that had been some quiet regret. He could not stop the threat, then. He could not keep the same, thoughtless smile. Could not hold it in the face of Shinji's own, raw honesty. Months ago. The uncertainty of whether or not they would again become refugees. Two worlds, gone.

And this time - And this time, he grasped at threads. Pulled and tugged. Tried to remember the exact instance where that had shifted with her. Before he forgot. Before he remembered, again.

He kept himself humming. Absent. Patiently peeled the tape keeping the box closed, back. They had time. He had time, at least. When he managed to cleanly open it, he stacked what books he found beside hers.]

That is a possibility, I suppose. [A small chuckle. A faint smile.] Though, Minato-kun tended to be more neutral about the selections. [He paused over one volume. Glanced at the title curiously. Something he hadn't read. He flipped it over, half-noting the reviews. Half-reading them.] The previous had rather, ah, unfortunate window placement. Those in the apartment across did not seem to particularly appreciate it, either.