[Riku doesn't answer right away, but he's used to this kind of composure. Someone being on edge. Someone seeking a way out, feeling as if they're trapped and gutted by this situation. Not only does he recognize it—he's felt it, lived it, felt it tear him apart until he lost all sense of logic or reason. A short stay in a safehouse doesn't compare on any level. But he doesn't know where someone came from before. If they were trapped before.
Heck, he doesn't know if they were trapped here. None of them do.]
I was wondering if you needed some help. That's all. [Riku casts a glance at the piece of metal. Well, it's better than the wooden swords he and Sora practiced with growing up. And something like that depends upon the wielder.]
I'm guessing you're gonna tell me "no." I'm used to that, too.
safehouse
Heck, he doesn't know if they were trapped here. None of them do.]
I was wondering if you needed some help. That's all. [Riku casts a glance at the piece of metal. Well, it's better than the wooden swords he and Sora practiced with growing up. And something like that depends upon the wielder.]
I'm guessing you're gonna tell me "no." I'm used to that, too.