[Catching that movement, and the intent behind it, Yuan comes up beside Kratos, looking at their faces in the mirror for a moment.]

[He'd guessed. He hadn't known. One more weight to carry isn't much, in the grand scheme, but this is Kratos.]

Give me your hand.

[He offers his, the left, upturned and slow, hoping there is no way this can be misinterpreted by whatever combined force of Origin and mana itself is responsible for the preternatural preservation instinct.]

Is it selfish, to be pleased it didn't let you?

[Yuan isn't sure he honestly cares if it is or not. He looks away and considers structures to which Kratos can be safely handcuffed.]