He could not miss the fatigue, the forced restlessness underneath, and Nigredo felt his innards curl up in shame. For at this moment, it seemed Albedo was worse off than he, and the younger had done nothing to lessen that state. To offer relief when it did not exist elsewhere.

For a moment, he faltered. He fell back to habit and quietly took Albedo's hand as intent formed in the back of his mind. There was little to make of the reference given, but Nigredo had an idea of what Albedo meant. Of what should be done.

"You don't have to make a choice, you know," he said carefully. "You don't have to do anything." For anyone, even for little brothers. "That should be my responsibility."