[Every time she thinks that she hasn’t anymore tears left... Konoha manages to find some. In spades, now, with the thought of the children in her mind. It’s different from the stories she’d heard growing up, different from the suffering she was familiar with... so abrupt, so sudden, such a violent and final clash and end that she still can’t even fully understand it.

But it’s comforting to know she’s not alone. That Sheryl grieves too, that she isn’t alone with these emotions in a sea of people too jaded or too afraid of being weak to cry.

She keeps her face buried against the other girl’s shoulder still even as her cheeks begin to dry, nodding to the words. The conviction, even if she also doesn’t know what exactly can be done by the likes of them.]

I don’t know either... So many people said I should learn to fight, that I’m strong... but I don’t-

[Swallowing, she wrestles with the guilt, with the selfishness of wanting to be protected instead of learning to fight herself. For thinking that fighting shouldn’t solve everything.]

I don’t want to use my strength like that...