I'm glad I met you.

Every ordinary day was happy.

Whatever worries you have, whatever secrets you hold—

Tell me everything without hiding a thing.

I met you again after a long time working in the Outskirts. Once again, you noticed the scratches on my arm and worried about me. That's right, I gave myself these wounds just to receive your concern. It's been quite a while since I started hurting myself; shouldn't you have realized by now? Well, it doesn't matter. I'm satisfied enough—no, more than satisfied—just by having you worry about me.

Then I suppose I should play along, roll up my sleeve, and show you my wound.

Here? Of course it hurts. Hurry up and put a bandage on it.