"I won't tell you that you can magically erase the things that you did. Or what you couldn't do for your people." His expression unravels. Roland's heart is beating strongly against his chest. "I'm not here to tell you that you're wrong, because I know what it's like when the burden to save has been on your shoulders this whole time."

Whatever tenderness settles in the lull between Roland looking down on the ground and his hands still gripping Tidus makes way for something determined; resolute. He looks back up at the boy, watching his face, watching the fire ebb away at the thicket growing in the midst.

"But you can't tell me that I was wrong to put my faith and trust in you - " He draws in again, shoulders tense. "- that I shouldn't help you because you're a failure. Because you don't deserve it." There's a growl underneath Roland's words. He lets it out, anyway. He doesn't overthink it.

"I don't tell you these things just because I think you deserve it." Roland says, a finality in his tone. The conviction of a king. "I help you because I want to. Because that's what I live by. What I believe in. I want to help my friends. Even if they've failed. And whether or not they think they deserve it isn't my place to decide."

His hands slip down, away from him. The ebb and flow slows.

"It doesn't matter. It's yours to do with as you wish. Take it. Leave it. Ignore it. I won't stop. It's my choice. It's always been my choice."