[Yamamoto would be lying if he said this was ever what he wanted from his life. Luckily, no one's asked. Not the people who put the gem in his chest, not anyone who brought him to this room, and definitely not his moody cellmate. So by and large he's contented himself with just registering the complaint with his own mind and spent an unproductive few hours feeling sorry for himself, repeating over and over in his head that this isn't what he wants.
Now, honestly, he's sick of that. He hates moping. He hates feeling helpless and defeated. And he hates being cooped up indoors, too. By now he doesn't care how painful it is to be apart from his new lifelong partner, he's going somewhere more interesting one way or another.]
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Now, honestly, he's sick of that. He hates moping. He hates feeling helpless and defeated. And he hates being cooped up indoors, too. By now he doesn't care how painful it is to be apart from his new lifelong partner, he's going somewhere more interesting one way or another.]
Hey, I'm going out. Wanna come?