[ Whether or not she's sharp enough to discern the truth behind Leon's genuine but prickly question, she decides nevertheless to treat it like he really does want to know, because trusting people is apparently also part of this bizarre exercise, and after all: she really wants to tell him.

How to explain her confusion - the guilt and shame and joy she's felt since coming here and the way every experience, every word and note and conversation has changed her, been remembered and then, sometimes (too often, even) been forgotten by her?

If she has an elephant memory, which she, queen of forgetting to wear socks, probably does not, then it's only because before Cerealia and people like Leon (pretty much a dick, yeah, but not for no reason and rarely without a good point) have changed her more in little over a month than one unchanging tower had in eighteen years.

It's realising this in the middle of a halting "I ca--" that makes her change course suddenly. Suddenly she's smiling as she speaks because she remembers that Leon has his Moments too. Moments of being cute and maybe a bit childish but also so much more mature than her.

A good friend, after all.

It's that. That's why even something so seemingly mild as being stubborn and bitchy to him pains her now. Even through a giggle. ]

Heh. I've... Actually been kind of - having a hard time with some stuff. Big stuff. D-- ...Death stuff. My teammate went missing recently. But... It's so strange--

[ WHOO HOO CAMERA. Now that she's feeling courageous enough to show her face; more importantly: now that any despair is completely gone from her voice. ]

...heh. Yeah. It's strange. But I already feel a little better after talking at you like this, Leon. Thank you.