[ Fate or a curse, huh... What an odd choice of words.

He's been confronted with such notions too long ago, in a spur-of-the-moment mass Communion he'd barely planned to do. At the time, and though the strain on his relationship with Byleth still weighed on him, there had been other, more pressing concerns in his mind -- the meaning of strength, the need to seek more of it, their purpose being here at all -- and Hayame had helped him begin to see it all in a different light. ]

I've had to think about that just a while ago, you know. Not in quite as personal terms, but either way, my answer doesn't change.

[ Had fate chosen them as Shard-bearers meant to carry the weight of an entire world on their shoulders? Were the two of them destined to always wind up on opposite sides until only one remained? Shez's gaze drops to the duplicate whistle, the reminder of everything he believes in, so firmly held in his grasp like a last glimmer of hope. ]

So all that's left now is hearing it from you.

[ His fist closes around the whistle again, and his eyes seek Byleth's. ]

Do you think being my friend is such an awful thing?

[ Were they nothing more than pawns in the grander scheme of the universe that their continuous choice to walk the same path didn't matter? ]