Crying was...cathartic. Once Keman had let himself weep for a while, he actually felt a little better than he had before (except for the awful headache that was growing behind his eyes). He still felt empty, but it was a...different kind of emptiness. "I'm sorry," he said eventually, "I think I've gotten snot on your shirt as well. I guess we're even now." He couldn't let himself break down again like this. It seemed a little ridiculous, to bend to social morays that weren't even his own, but he had to be the strong one right now. Males weren't supposed to cry. It wasn't that he didn't want to look "weak" to the other males in the room, either. He had responsibilities to his friends, and the people here, and to Shana. If she truly had suffered the same fate as his mother and sister and had been taken by this place, he needed to get her back rather than focusing on what he'd lost.

"Thank you. I--I'm all right now. Thank you." He shifted a little so that Orihime could rest a little more comfortably against him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. He stroked her hair, just letting the words come as he thought of them. "I took care of her, you know. Shana, I mean. She was less than a day old when my mother gave her to me, because she was about to give birth herself and couldn't do it herself. I was just a child, too...only about ten years old or so. I'd never seen a real two-legger before, much less a baby one. She was so tiny and helpless. She's not helpless anymore, though. Wherever she is, she's fighting."