[The kindness he's allowing himself now is no more and no less than this: to enjoy the warmth of a kiss from a cherished person for the moments that it lasts. To build, for just those seconds, a little place of comfort where he can pretend that he's worthy of anything soft and sweet.

And then it's over. He leans back, gently wiping at the tear with his palm, and then moving to pull his hands away.]

You're too stubborn and too kind. [Bluntly. Fondly. Exhausted.] ...I wish that you wouldn't be. Not toward me. I would feel more at ease with your anger or disdain, I think. Even your hatred.

[Because then, at least, he would know that Mandricardo could stay far outside of the exhaustive radius of destruction around him. He's more used to those things, anyway. Indifference at best, spite and fear and disgust at worst.

Warmth reminds him too much of the people who lead kinder lives, and deserve to keep those lives safe. Or simply those who deserve such things, if they don't already have them.

Like Kayo. Like Suzukake. Like so many others here, who his heart aches for.

There's a little flicker of a half-smile.]

I'll keep the memories you've been good enough to give me and take no more.