_{He considers this, mouth working infinitesimally around the senbon between his teeth.} 

                  _{What a loaded question. Genma remembers a lot of things: remembers his mother’s gentle hands, remembers his older sister’s laugh, remembers petting their old grey cat with pudgy, unsteady hands.}

    _{All of that fades, however. There’s no longer any order to the memories: they remain there, jumbled in the back of his mind, a cacophony of sunshine and static and touch, overpowered by darker, more important thoughts.}

              _{“Sorry.” he shrugs, senbon dipping. “I dunno.”}