Can end here or keep going -- up to you?
His mouth made a noise that used to be laughter, that might have once been something like bitterness, something like irony, something like sarcasm. But this sound was only just sound -- meaningless noise with no meaning attached. I never fooled anyone,
the hybrid said, If you believed whatever you believed, then you only fooled yourself.
Laruku had done plenty with his life; it was only that none of them were things he wanted to say or mention or remember. And he didn't want anyone else to remember either. Saying he had done nothing with his life was really more kindness than he deserved. Ryoujoku laughed too, but it was a real laugh, the only real laugh that was left: the familiar cackle, echoing into silence.
Get out of here,
the blind man told the other finally, I have nothing to offer you -- I never did.
It was funny somehow, that he still didn't know who he was talking to, but he supposed it didn't really matter in the end. It could be anyone, anyone at all that had once known him, or thought they'd known him. The words would still apply. He had never had anything to offer anyone. He turned his head and kept on in the direction he'd been going.