Kazou sits with a thoughtful expression, his eyes rarely leaving Rose as she sips her wine. His mind is elsewhere, caught between the past and the future, and it's clear to Rose that something weighs heavily on him. Kazou sets his chopsticks down gently on his plate, his brow furrowed.
"I shouldn't have left Fujino with the clones," he murmurs, his voice quieter than usual. "I was the last one there. I should've stayed... even just for a little while longer."
Rose tilts her head slightly, her lips curling into a small, almost amused smile as she looks at him. Her eyes are soft, but there's an edge in them—an understanding born from years of shared experience.
"Kazou," she says, her voice warm but firm. "You can't do everything, not even for Fujino. You've given more than enough. We both know you've done everything you can for them."
Kazou doesn't respond immediately. His eyes wander toward the window, where the faint glow of the city lights blur into a sea of neon. His thoughts are elsewhere.
"I know, but I left her with all of them. I was... I should have stayed. There's so much to consider, so many unknowns."
Rose places her glass down gently on the table, then reaches out, placing a hand over his. The touch is familiar, comforting—a reminder of the life they've built together.
"Don't overthink it. You're the best scientist in Japan. No one else could have done what you did," she says softly. "The work isn't easy, and sometimes it's about knowing when to walk away."
Kazou looks back at her, searching her face for any sign of doubt.
"It just feels wrong... leaving them like that. They're still... they're still part of the project, part of our responsibility."
A slight flicker of something crosses Rose's face, but it's gone in a heartbeat, replaced by her signature resolve. She smiles at him, but it's not the kind of smile that softens her expression—it's the one that means she's about to say something that cuts straight to the heart of the matter.
"Just... don't forget this, Kazou," she says, her voice lowering just slightly. "They're not children. They're clones. Experiments. Even if you don't always want them to be... they will never be as valuable or equal as a real human life."
Kazou freezes, his hand stiffening under hers. He looks at her with wide, disbelieving eyes, his earlier thoughts shattering in an instant. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, unsure how to react to the sudden sharpness in her words. She said it again? He pulls his hand away from hers slowly, setting his chopsticks down on the side of his plate, abandoning the meal entirely. His voice is low, almost a whisper.
"Rose... that's not... that's not what I believe. You're wrong."
She watches him closely, the corner of her mouth twitching into something of a knowing smile, though it's edged with something else—something unreadable.
"Oh? How's that?"
"I've spent years of my life working with them. I've seen them grow, seen them change, felt their potential. I refuse to believe they're just... experiments. They are something. They may not be human in the strictest sense, but they have the capacity for more than we've given them credit for."
Rose's smile fades slightly, and she looks at him with a mixture of affection and frustration.
"Kazou, you're a brilliant man, but sometimes you let your heart cloud your judgment." Her voice softens, almost tender, but her words cut through him like a knife. "You know as well as I do that the world doesn't work like that. These clones are not human. They don't have the same value as the rest of us. And deep down, you know that."
Kazou's eyes flash with emotion, the deep well of empathy he feels for the clones coming to the surface.
"No. I don't know that. I don't want to know that." He falls silent for a moment, his thoughts running wild.
Rose leans back in her seat. The tension between them lingers, charged with the unspoken understanding that this moment—disagreement goes far deeper than a simple discussion about clones. Kazou finally speaks, his voice quiet but firm.
"I understand the science. I understand the ethics. But I also understand what it feels like to be human. And I see them... I see them struggling with the same things we do. Don't tell me that they're just experiments. I can't accept that. Not anymore."
Rose sighs, her gaze softening as she watches him. She reaches for his hand again, but this time her touch is gentle, almost apologetic.
"Kazou," she murmurs, "you're too idealistic for your own good. But... I love you for it. I really do."
Kazou looks at her, searching her eyes, trying to understand if she truly means what she says.
"So you think I'm wrong?" he asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Rose doesn't answer immediately. Instead, she leans forward, her lips curling into a soft smile, the tension between them dissolving.
"I think," she says slowly, "that the clones are just... part of our story. And we have to finish it, Kazou. Whatever that means."
Kazou studies her face for a long moment, the edge of frustration still lingering in his eyes, but something softer begins to replace it.
"We'll finish it together," he says, the promise heavy in the air between them. The moment lingers, charged with a strange, quiet understanding as their conversation fades into the background noise of the restaurant. The flicker of the candlelight casts dancing shadows across the table, and the air between them feels suddenly warmer.
Later, after the meal, Kazou and Rose step out of the restaurant. The cool evening air is a welcome contrast to the warmth of the inside, and the bustling city streets of Sendai stretch out before them.
They walk side by side, not in silence, but in a comfortable quiet. The bright lights from the storefronts cast colorful glows against their faces. Rose reaches over, linking her arm with Kazou's. Kazou glances down at her, and for the first time in hours, a small, genuine smile appears on his face.
"I've been thinking," Rose says, her voice low but light. "Maybe we should.... Go away somewhere. Just the two of us."
Kazou raises an eyebrow, intrigued.
"A vacation? From the work?"
"Exactly," she says, her lips curling into a playful smile. "We deserve it. And it might give us a new perspective... on everything."
Kazou chuckles softly, the sound warm and genuine.
"You really think I'll be able to leave it all behind?"
Rose meets his gaze, her eyes shining with a knowing confidence.
"We'll see. But I think... I think it would be good for us."
Kazou's smile widens as he leans in just a bit closer to her.
"You always know how to make things sound so simple."
"It's not about making them simple," she says, her tone teasing yet affectionate. "It's about making them ours."
"Well, just what kind of vacation were you thinking about?" Kazou asks.
"Poland. I've always wanted to see Poland."
They walk together down the street, the city lights flickering around them, the noise of the world continuing on as if nothing has changed. In this moment, they have each other. And for now, that's enough.
Poland... Maybe someday...