“You don’t believe I love her,” I say. Hana hesitates. She pulls out a dinner pot and runs her hands over the metal. “At first I thought you just fell for her beauty, and that’s surely a part of it, but the more I think about it, the more I believe you love the concept of her.” She’s wrong, but it’s pointless to argue about my own feelings. I love Sora from the arch of her foot to the depths of her soul. I love all the ways she’s strong and every weakness. I’d know her in a hundred lifetimes, and I’ll love her through all of them.
