Aerith didn't move where she was sitting. Instead, she watched him, her gaze calm and her hands on her lap. She could hear the desperation, the need for her to understand what he had done, the people he had hurt. The guilt.

The glare didn't hurt. Because it wasn't about her. None of it was about her.

"I know." She didn't know. But it was something he needed to hear. "But you're avoiding the question Alan." Her voice was quiet. He was also avoiding the fact that he was desperate, and he hurt them.

She understood the desperation, but he still hurt them.