[ Once more he encourages her to talk and speak with him. His reassurance is met with a meager smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Funny enough, though, how she can still smile despite her thoughts that wander to the knowledge of his death, or perhaps it's not so peculiar after all. She doesn't need to pretend that she isn't sad anymore when she thinks about it? That, too, is relieving. ]

I'm going to try, Noct. Going forward, I will try. [ She squeezes his hands again. ] Promise. [ For him, she will.

She pauses here, reflecting. Trying doesn't seem good enough. She has to walk towards that threshold. ] Forward-- it really is the only way to go, isn't it? Is now a good a time as any?