[Tsukiyama joins him easily; he considers getting his jacket or his shirt or...something before he does so, but there's not much sense in bothering, not after everything Ryuunosuke's already seen tonight.

He listens to that in silence, though, not moving from where he's sitting on the edge of the bed; he crosses his legs at the knee, leaning forward a bit as he listens and playing with his hands a little as he does so.]

I don't think I was always like this.

[The admission is unusually quiet; there's nothing hesitant about it, but it's pensive.]

It probably sounds a little strange to say that I don't remember, n'est-ce pas? It seems like the sort of thing that someone should, but I don't recall very much of it; I know there were dark times in my life, I know that there were times when I didn't want to eat and so I didn't for long periods of time...there was fear as well back then, a lot of it, and I remember feeling sort of lonely. But that sort of thing...there's distance there, so much so that it all feels like it happened to someone else - like perhaps it didn't happen at all, like it's something I read about before falling asleep and so my thoughts just integrated it, maybe.

[He shrugs, though.]

Ah, but even if that's what it was like, perhaps it's for the best that I don't recall details - because who would want to really remember details about something like that? I'm not that sort of person anymore, anyway.