Don't say that. [ it's a little more desperate than she would have liked, and she drops her hand back into her lap and fights back the surge of doubt that's always accompanied thoughts like that. He's not the only one who's considered it, and he's not the only one who's been troubled by the implications, but the one thought that's sustained Rise this long is the hope, the wish, that she won't forget. If nothing else, she wants to hold onto things like this. The way Naoto had been when Kanji had returned, remembering nothing, after they'd gotten so far... when they'd both forgotten, but now, they'd reached that point again, and she'd almost wanted to cry out of sheer relief.

Maybe some things were inevitable. ]

There's no way it doesn't matter, dummy. And there's no way I'm going to lose you-- what we've got here. The feelings won't change-- they can't change. Kanzeon would know, even if I didn't.

[ things tightly buried away or suppressed, unintentionally or not-- her Persona had always been able to locate them. Rise herself wasn't an exception. ]