[Wherever they are, Kaworu is standing dead still, eyes wide and one hand pressing the wall to steady himself. The other hand is frozen in front of his face as if poised to raise to his face. Blood drips out of his nose, rolls down the back of his hand, and splatters onto the floor.
Week 2, Monday
"̵M̵a̵y̴b̴e̴ ̶I̷ ̶w̴a̵s̵ ̶b̶o̷r̴n̶ ̴t̵o̵ ̶m̷e̶e̸t̴ ̵y̸o̶u̵.̸"̷
̸
̸"̵T̸h̸i̶s̴ ̵t̵i̸m̷e̸,̷ ̴I̷ ̸w̶i̷l̸l̴ ̸m̷a̴k̴e̶ ̴y̴o̵u̸ ̷h̸a̸p̴p̴y̵.̶.̶.̴"̷
Words that he never remembers saying flood his memories, tearing up his recollection like typhoon winds.]
There's something wrong with my memories.