[ Everyone knew, deep down. Tidus knew, for the chance he was willing to give it. Maybe it was true once. Doesn't matter now. Now the city was a nightmare, pulling them in, churning them through the gears and spitting out doubles in their place.

Tidus steps before her, while allowing her space. Kyoko doesn't need him touching for comfort, and he doesn't think she would appreciate him speaking softly, gently. But anger--Tidus knows anger, and that he has plenty of. And a hope that isn't so false. ]

It's not as in control as it thinks. [ He speaks lowly and with conviction, eyes set on her no matter if her head stays bowed, her fringe shadowing her face. The pain in his fists and tension in him a welcome misery. ] Whatever it can do? It's not doing a good job. People are figuring it out. They're working on those chips.

I'll do what I can, I don't care how small--but I need to know you're protected too. We both need to be.