Moroe had to take breaks far more often now. It was becoming so easy to get lost in Shougo's memories of life with his family. She could honestly have stayed here for hours, had she had the option, just soaking in those warm feelings, or even just watching the phantoms of Shougo and his father. The only thing that detracted from it was the strange undercurrent of inadequacy which tinged so many of these scrolls. She still couldn't understand why an amazing person like Shougo would feel that way about himself.

But eventually the good times came to an end. After what seemed to her like a lifetime of happiness, she reached Mr Nimori's murder. From then on, the work sped up considerably. She had no desire to linger on these scrolls for an instant longer than was necessary. It was surprising how foreign those feelings of anger were to her. She'd felt anger that strong before, but never been angry in that way; Never felt the rage of having something so important taken away forever. When she at last approached the present, It was with some relief. Now all that was left were the few days that she and Shougo had spent together. Surely there would be no more surprises here.

Wrong. It turned out that the shock waiting for her in these last shelves was the biggest one of them all. When she picked up that first fateful 'Moroe scroll', it was all she could do not to drop it. And once she stood staring at an almost complete shelf of them, their message was undeniable.

"Oh kami he loves me...

...and I love him."

There was no escaping this truth any longer. She'd done her best to hide from it, but now it had finally caught up. She loved Nimori Shougo. There was no doubt in her mind that, if their positions were reversed, her memories of him would be just as vivid as these. But more than that, she now knew the true extent of his feelings for her. This wasn't a mere crush, or simple gratitude; It was unimaginably deeper than that, like comparing a pond to an ocean. It was something for which she'd been waiting her entire life.

"I was wrong. This is worth fighting for. We can make it work. I don't know how yet, but we'll find a way, even if means climbing to the top of that black tower and ramming a gun straight down the Director's throat. This feeling is worth the risk. I know that if Shougo was in my mind instead, he'd be thinking the exact...same..."

No he wouldn't. If Shougo was inside her mind, he wouldn't be doing that at all. In a moment of revelation that felt like a punch to the gut, Moroe knew what he'd be doing instead: He'd be screaming. He'd be cursing the day that he ever fell in love with such an irredeemable, murderous coward. The core of Shougo's soul was something she admired above all else; The core of her soul spat in the face of everything that Mr Nimori had died to protect. In that moment, Moroe knew what needed to be done.

She turned away from the shelves, and fixed her gaze upon the phantom of Shougo. She called out to him, with a voice that was on the verge of breaking.

"Goodbye."

Behind her, the scrolls began to disintegrate.