[ It's the second time someone's thrown the idea of reincarnation to him, though he can't imagine what an 'enlightened' life is. Being reborn doesn't seem like a blade being sharpened, honed into something sharper over time—can being reforged really bring them any closer to perfection when it doesn't make them any less human?

He doesn't think he's been improved here, or by death itself. Just as rotten, a little more lost than before. But she raises a good point—it's one that appeases him more than even the tea does. He shuts his eyes for a moment, his chin dipping into the fluff of his scarf as his posture slacks. ]

I'd like to think so.

[ It's easier to stomach this all if there's a reason for it. A purpose. Some guiding principle to replace notions of knighthood. ]

Maybe rather than improving ourselves, we're meant to improve this place. I would not presume I can save other lost souls—but it would be all too easy to fall into apathy after death.

It is better to remind ourselves that there is good we can do, even now.