[ she's not a middle-schooler anymore. she shouldn't have to do this. it's pathetic, isn't it? she should have learned. if only she weren't so broken.

a hand comes to rest on ai's shoulder, its grip delicate and free of judgment. ]

I see... It's hard, isn't it? Raising a child, I mean. I'm sure they tried their best to teach you, but there's only so much time to spend on any one subject...

[ his hand doesn't tremble. it doesn't grip down and clench. his breath isn't shaky, and his teeth aren't clenched.

and he doesn't tell her she's doing well. he doesn't say how wonderful it is that she's come this far. he simply says: ]

Hmm... As for pieces, I can't say I know for sure. I have a few ideas, of course, but I'd need some time to look it over. [ he reaches forward - lays a finger on the book's corner. ] Would it be alright if I took a look?