[Ian takes it in, that... passionate speech. It's been some time since he's seen Souji so worked up, and somehow, he can't bring himself to be angry when Souji's being so open and honest with him.
His grip on Souji's wrist loosens, until it's no longer forceful at all and more just... resting, in a silent bid for something to keep himself grounded.
Because Souji's wrong. They do die that easily.]
...
[Ian keeps his eyes on Souji's, refusing to look away. He doesn't want to talk about this; it doesn't matter right now anyway, not with almost everyone in Kiseki.]
It would have been more appropriate to ask 'how many of us'.
[The things Ian would do if they could just leave it at that.]