A dear friend, a trusted partner. They've grown together in some ways, completely apart in others. In a sense, he can trace quite a lot back to him, really. In an unforgettable sort of way. He doesn't think he could ever let go of those memories, even if he wasn't supposed to have them at all. He feels... he's someone that he can trust wholeheartedly, and he isn't afraid of that. He stills remembers when that used to surprise him to hear - he hopes it doesn't, anymore. It's true, after all. Sometimes when they're together it's quiet, sometimes it's the opposite - neither of them settling for less. It's... ah, fun feels like a shallow word, but it is, isn't it? It's fun - he feels comfortable there, like he belongs, in a sense. He does his best to keep up, at the least - it's the least he could do. They do the best that they can. That's what matters, right..? ...He feels like... well, how does he say it? He can rely on him - he just hopes the other way is true, too.

Even behind the glass, Tamika's someone deeply important to him, even now, even here. He knows she can handle herself - she's made that more than clear plenty of times. What he worries, though, is her giving too much of herself without feeling that she has at all. He wants her to be happy, to feel that the good that comes her way is something she can take in her hands, and not something she needs to hide away in case of some unforseen disaster. It's not that he doesn't understand - he does, really. It's hard. But it doesn't change a thing about wanting, does it..? She works so hard all the time, and he can't help but watch. Sometimes he wonders if she's happier now - they haven't spoken in a long time, and old thoughts make it harder to break that quiet the longer it goes, no matter how much he misses their talks. But that's nobody's fault but his own. He guesses he just hopes she knows she's loved - she is, more than anything.

A friend who he's been through a lot with, by now - seen a lot alongside. He cares about him deeply, and it feels like Asuka's in everything that he sees, quiet reminders in little moments or visuals around the world. It's a soft reminder, and he thinks of him much more often than he feels brave enough to say. Sometimes he wonders if he made it clear enough that he cares - others, if he was too much so. He guesses, though, if he really minded, he would tell him, right..? He's someone who Akio cares for deeply, but always worries on the approach, at least, he did when they spoke before. Like a missed step on the stairs, he kept feeling like he was missing something. Looking back, maybe it's a sign he shouldn't worry so much about it. Of course, that's much easier said than done, but... oh, he just hopes he isn't boring him, really - that he can make him happy. He hopes next time, he can be sure.

A friend from uni, he works with Sakiko as a study group of sorts - really, it's more that he helps her out with schoolwork while she finds ways to talk to him about anything she can think of, but he finds it fun, really..! It's strange, he feels both lost and at ease at the same time; she seems to appreciate the fact he doesn't quite get her humor at times, almost delighted by it, in fact. By now, he's accepted that's part of the fun of it for her - it's made it a lot easier for him to relax, too. They get along well, and while he knows there's things she isn't telling him, he appreciates the things she does, at least. No, there's definitely something more there, but... well, he'll do what he can - if she wants to tell him, he supposes she will, eventually. For now... for now, he thinks she needs the normalcy.

A relationship built on quiet moments together and masks - the understanding of a stage and the resentment of a persona put before the world, secrets and silence. Hiei is someone he misses dearly - an important friend, someone who he felt never got the full chance to be, well, themself. He knows they feel they're bitter and unpleasant, but... well, he can't help but feel those words aren't synonyms, y'know? Does that make sense..? He's never felt they were a pain to be around - quite the opposite, really. He cares about them a lot, and he wants to hear more - more about what they think, what they want to do, how they feel. Not all at once of course, that's overwhelming, a terrifying crash, but... he misses them. Is that obvious enough? He only hopes they're doing well - even if he might not see them again. He can at least do whatever he can for them, whenever he gets the chance. That much is worth its weight in gold, to him.

In some universes, they barely meet at all. In others, though, they're much closer. Even if it isn't a thing meant to last - and they both know that - it's still a commitment of sorts, it's something that brings comfort. It's more a promise to care, than anything. He's sure Souta meant it as a way to help *him*, which is ironic... after all, in that time, he's only picked up on more and more things about him. Things that he may not like being shown. Things that are worsened by his isolation, internally as well as externally. That's alright; Souta's always been the wordier of the two of them. He's been told that's quite the feat, really... He doesn't quite trust him. Not entirely. No, he thinks Souta's too assured in his own good-doing for that. Not that he believes he would on purpose, either. Just... ah, what was the phrase again..? It sounds so mean to say it like that. No, he guesses it's just... he's a little too forward and pushy. He believes his own convictions too much, his own one-man audience, standing ovation and all. ...He's sure, if nobody were there to stop him or make him second-guess himself, Souta could do some horrible things in the name of a greater good. He's not sure he realizes it himself. But... it doesn't quite matter, does it? They're just a little closer than friends, a promise to stay, and then quietly break away when they find something new. But he can't help but want to- well, help. Is that so bad?