[ He grinds these words out, bowing his head so that his forehead is resting against the bridge of his hands instead, partially obscuring his face. ]
I know her name. I -- I heard it, and ... something happened to her, Souji.
[ There is anguish and betrayal in the way he looks at Souji now. Raw, awful betrayal that Souji knew who she was - must have, he must know who she is - and didn't tell him.
Yu knew a name. But he had no idea who that name belonged to until now.
[ And throughout all this, Souji still can't look at Yu. To see that anguish and betrayal on Yu's face would kill him and he knows that. He knows the kind of look that Yu is giving him and he refuses to look up. Instead, he fixates on the photos on the table (the photos he can't seem to look away from, no matter how much it pains him) and his fists curl up so tightly that his knuckles go white. ]
She used to welcome us home.
[ He barely speaks louder than a whisper, almost in fear that if he speaks up, he'll break down. And for everything that he's been trying to bury about Nanako, to avoid thinking or speaking about her for the past week, everything just starts to spill like a floodgate breaking open. ]
We used to help her with her homework. Tuck her into bed. We even sang and danced with her once. We-- We promised her that'd we'd...
[ And his voice cracks at the last sentence and he stops. There's a long silence before Souji finds it within himself to talk again. ]
[ Yu listens in total silence. Slowly, over the course of Souji's explanation, his expression morphs from betrayal and heartbreak to ... just heartbreak honestly. By the end he's pressing his face into his hands. It feels like there's a vice around his chest, slowly squeezing until he can't breathe at all. ]
She's dead, Souji, [ he says, and the sigh in his voice is the sound of tears. ] I -- I don't even remember -- any of those things, and she's...
[ He can't go on. He will not lift his face to look at Souji. It feels a lot like this whole life just fell out from beneath him. ]
[ And this is when Souji finally looks up because... something stands out. "She's dead"? Did... Yu already know? It might be easy enough to deduce from the way that Souji is handling this whole situation but... ]
I heard her name, [ he repeats, moving his hands to wind them tightly into his hair, ] in a memory. Just a name, "Nanako-chan." I had no idea who she was or why we knew her, I just ... I just knew she was dead.
[ Very soft. He tilts his head in Souji's direction, but does not actually look at him. ]
I have a memory of ... confronting a man in a hospital room. All of us, the whole group. I only remember a small piece of it, but based on what was being discussed... we believed he'd killed two people. A girl named Saki Konishi, and ... and Nanako.
[ His mouth thins into a line. ]
I received this memory months ago, and didn't have any context for it. At the time, neither of those names meant anything to me, and I wasn't sure what to make of it. But now...
[ Suddenly, Souji finds himself stop breathing and his mouth dry. Confronting a man in a hospital room after Nanako died... Is that... is that the memory that preceded the one outside the hospital with Yosuke? The one that Souji thinks he's at fault for...? ]
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[ He grinds these words out, bowing his head so that his forehead is resting against the bridge of his hands instead, partially obscuring his face. ]
I know her name. I -- I heard it, and ... something happened to her, Souji.
[ There is anguish and betrayal in the way he looks at Souji now. Raw, awful betrayal that Souji knew who she was - must have, he must know who she is - and didn't tell him.
Yu knew a name. But he had no idea who that name belonged to until now.
And it's a girl. Just a little tiny girl.
And she's dead. ]
Who is she? Who is she to us?
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[ And throughout all this, Souji still can't look at Yu. To see that anguish and betrayal on Yu's face would kill him and he knows that. He knows the kind of look that Yu is giving him and he refuses to look up. Instead, he fixates on the photos on the table (the photos he can't seem to look away from, no matter how much it pains him) and his fists curl up so tightly that his knuckles go white. ]
She used to welcome us home.
[ He barely speaks louder than a whisper, almost in fear that if he speaks up, he'll break down. And for everything that he's been trying to bury about Nanako, to avoid thinking or speaking about her for the past week, everything just starts to spill like a floodgate breaking open. ]
We used to help her with her homework. Tuck her into bed. We even sang and danced with her once. We-- We promised her that'd we'd...
[ And his voice cracks at the last sentence and he stops. There's a long silence before Souji finds it within himself to talk again. ]
... she's our little sister.
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She's dead, Souji, [ he says, and the sigh in his voice is the sound of tears. ] I -- I don't even remember -- any of those things, and she's...
[ He can't go on. He will not lift his face to look at Souji. It feels a lot like this whole life just fell out from beneath him. ]
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How... How do you know?
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... so you don't know how she--
[ He can't bring himself to say it. ]
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[ Very soft. He tilts his head in Souji's direction, but does not actually look at him. ]
I have a memory of ... confronting a man in a hospital room. All of us, the whole group. I only remember a small piece of it, but based on what was being discussed... we believed he'd killed two people. A girl named Saki Konishi, and ... and Nanako.
[ His mouth thins into a line. ]
I received this memory months ago, and didn't have any context for it. At the time, neither of those names meant anything to me, and I wasn't sure what to make of it. But now...
[ ... now there's a face to attach to the name. ]
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In... in that room... what happened?
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I don't know.
[ It's the honest truth. ]
All I remember is a small piece of conversation. I don't know what we actually chose to do. ... why?
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... What was the choice?
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Whether or not to throw that man into the TV to end his crimes for good.