Roland is transfixed in a way he can't explain. So he doesn't fight the feeling, wanting to see where it will take him. Them. It's clear to him that they've been drawn together as witnesses to one another for a reason.

He kneels on one leg, and only hesitates for a breath before the back of his hand touches it, blue and pink and thick against his skin. In the blink of an eye, Roland is shaken. He looks around and his consciousness is back to the cave, mossy and glowing. But it's different this time. This time, he is watching something that is both his memory and Ichigo's, like a screen rolling out a movie. He can feel Ichigo enter the same space too.

They were both watching, it seems. And it was making Roland jarringly uncomfortable - too much, all at once. Despondence washes over him as he watches Ichigo overtaken by sadness. Guilt. The backs of the friends he spent time with in the cafe no longer warm and inviting - all turned away from him. And the boy with glasses, the look in his eyes that Roland sees play out in front of him...He isn't sure what to make of it. How Ichigo lost his power to see ghosts. The aftermath of the war.

But he can't move, and he can't seem to speak. He watches Ichigo's memory play out like a spectator in the stands until it ends. And as for Roland's memory...