One day, I will be whole again, and – like Roxas – forget every single sin I've sinned.
Right?
Wrong. I know that now. I knew it then, to be honest - that Roxas was a different breed of Nobody, and not just because he had a living, breathing Somebody. Roxas wasn't some kind of measuring stick for my guilt. I just can't pretend that the guy on the other end of the popsicle stick is anyone's friend; I found out how far I was willing to go the day I was ordered to attack a comrade and did so without a qualm. He wasn't a real person, I wasn't a real person, so what did it matter?
What would you do if you felt nothing at all? What would you care? Seriously. The universe nods its head at you and says, "Look, kid, do whatever you want. Nobody gives a shit," and puts a light out right where your heart used to be. You stop caring.
I care now though, damn it, because if Roxas can walk away from all of this with his hands clean…why the hell am I slinking around here in the shadows at all?
What's stopping me?