[There's so much about Cairo he doesn't know. Almost everything. But being friends with Riley takes patience and determination and hard work, a certain specific type of stubbornness. He wonders what it was like for her, putting all of that in and Riley still pulling away. Even here it's been so frustrating. Somehow, he thinks for Cairo it must have been worse.]

It's easy when—

[No. He stops, fingers fidgeting on Riley's arms, before his mouth sets and he continues.]

Haruno didn't . . . think anyone would help. It's not the same, but I know the feeling is — strong, and deep, and louder than anything else. So every time you think that maybe you're wrong and someone would care, it gets drowned out.

I didn't know how it felt to watch someone else drowning in that. Not until here, until you. It felt sort of like that in February, though. When we weren't talking. It felt like I couldn't reach you, no matter what I tried. You thought I was angry with you, or disgusted, but I was mostly just sad and scared.

I don't know how I feel about that. Being on both sides of it, I think they're both too painful to be fair.