"Wow, you're kind of a downer, aren't you?" Chara observes. "People would like you much better if you smiled a little more, you know."

Behind their back, a knife passes from one hand to another. They raise a hand suddenly, sharply. Left hand.

It's empty. They just play with their hair, scratch their ear where a healed-over cut still itches.

"You know that Max is fine, right? We talked it out. You really don't have anything left to worry about."