( he lapses into disquieted silence. he hasn’t been downstairs to the basement below this one yet, but he has certainly heard that it’s a terrible place to end up. the cramped quarters, the poor conditions, the uncomfortable temperatures, the strange sounds and things that go bump in the night… this place isn’t exactly the lap of luxury, given how paper-thin the walls are, but it’s at least his own space. it’s easy enough to keep clean. the only noises that he has to suffer are those of people being loud, obnoxious, or amorous (which is loud and obnoxious in its own way, when it came to how these rooms were arranged). )

If it’s ever too much to be down there… You could let me know. I could see what I can do.

( he doesn’t know how well levy would respond to such an offer—makoto knows that he doesn’t really like to offer anything without giving something else in return, despising either the feeling he owed someone or the sensation of charity. but it’s hard to think about extorting something from someone when you know full well that they aren’t in a position to have as much as you have, just based on their very ranks…

levy sits up, and makoto hands him the mirror. he watches him carefully, a little worriedly, searching his expression for clues.

he understand what levy means, he thinks. the person he sees in the mirror is… similar, in a way. twisted, but recognizable. ) Y-Yeah… Mine is, like—it looks like me, but I can tell it’s… not. ( he frowns; he looks troubled by it. ) It’s sort of like, someone else wearing my skin. Do you feel that way? I-I just… I was given this, so… I’m trying to figure out, why…