The remembering is almost as bad as anything else.

Every floor of this fortress, he's found ghosts who blamed him for their deaths. For living when they had not. None of it was a thought he hasn't had for himself, but to see their faces, hear their voices as they said it —

the dead rising, briefly, to agree with him.

Naomi, just out reach, promising him that he will never be happy. And hasn't he thought that too? The real Naomi Nagata would never want anything but for his well-being. Has never, at home, or briefly here. It's a disservice to her to set this image alongside the real woman, but right now,

he can't bring himself to look up. He only shakes his head: no, it's not her fault. She doesn't have to apologize.