Minato-sensei used to say this phrase so often that it settled in Xion's chest more deeply than his own heartbeat.
"We don't borrow grief from nothingness, my child. For every exchange comes with a price. And the future is one of such nothingness. The past is another."
Seventeen-year-old Xion rested his head on the middle-aged doctor's shoulder. Despite being the younger one, he lacked the vitality that shone in the older man's eyes.
"How so? Isn't everything we do for the sake of the future?"
Minato chuckled. "We do it for the hope of betterment. But if we worry about a future that technically doesn't even exist yet, aren't we simply fools?"
Xion thought he understood, yet at the same time, he understood nothing.