[ she doesn't take the out. his honesty would be met with hers, just like she'd resolved herself. it was fair, and, if anything, it showed that it didn't matter. she could talk about it. it was fine. it happened.

milla shifts her weight, a hand settling on the hilt of her blade. she'd never envisioned having this kind of conversation with anyone, nevermind kashuu, and here she is. ]

It's not like it matters much. It's— just history. Facts. If you want to hear about something like that, I don't mind telling you. You saw already.

[ ... ]

And I saw yours. It's fair. That's how friendship works, right?

[ no it's not but maybe if she makes an amazingly wrong comment it'll help defuse this tense knot in her head and chest. ]