[ It's not hard for her to tell there is a story - must be, with the way he acts. His appearance isn't what proves that to her, but rather the things he says of himself. The irony of it is that she's all too familiar with that type of mentality, considering how she was taught to view her own kind and her own nature, and in being so knows just how hard it is to change someone's mind once they've decided that they're a monster.
Jarring as it is to see something of her mind in someone else, Naminé doesn't permit herself to linger on her own existential crisis. Instead she lets her eyes trail him as he departs, a perplexed sort of frown shaping her mouth, but she doesn't prevent him from leaving. (Or try to, rather. She has no illusions about how effective that would be.) As she looks after him, despite having resolved to let him be for the moment, some of the truth escapes anyway in her murmured, ]
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Jarring as it is to see something of her mind in someone else, Naminé doesn't permit herself to linger on her own existential crisis. Instead she lets her eyes trail him as he departs, a perplexed sort of frown shaping her mouth, but she doesn't prevent him from leaving. (Or try to, rather. She has no illusions about how effective that would be.) As she looks after him, despite having resolved to let him be for the moment, some of the truth escapes anyway in her murmured, ]
… Neither do I.