[ on the roof, he balances potted plants in his hands, one on the top of his head as he works to rearrange the small sitting area they've pieced together. a clothesline is strung between one building and the next, a few sheets flapping loose in the gentle breeze that winds through the structures surrounding them, higher and higher still. it'd be easy to jump from one roof to the next, to climb and leap. roxas gravitates to this place, he knows. he enjoys the height too, the ability to lean over the edge and watch people below. ]

I like to come here to meditate. It's the right amount of open and enclosed, like the wind has come to embrace me.

[ he sets plants down, and then plops himself in the middle of them to push them around into new positions. ]

Was the water able to wash away some of the weight you're carrying, miss Rey?