[That smile of hers, as tiny and delicate as a flower just starting to sprout from the soil, broke his heart. At this point in her tenure, he had hoped that she would have blossomed fully, that her once desolate garden would be starting to flower beautifully. But it seemed like the soil he had left her in carelessly was far too rocky and treacherous for such things, and her roots had felt every bit of gravel, if she was this grateful for just a pittance from him.

It made it difficult for him to sit still, to not grip her hands in his to promise with conviction that it would get better, despite the fact he couldn't promise such reckless things. He'd grown arrogant in his godhood, clearly.]

I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it then, Oka-chan.

[Because she was right, he couldn't interfere as loathe as he was to admit it. Not even being able to lash out in a tiny petty way was deeply irritating to him, but if Okakou could grit her teeth and bear it, he wouldn't invalidate her efforts.

He tipped his gaze up back to hers, firm and kind.]

You'll always have my good opinion, and my ear! I want you to feel comfortable telling me these things and to remember you're not alone in this. You have allies.