Autor sighs, relieved, and rests his cheek against his side of the door, wishing again that he was with her. It doesn't sound like she has any sort of a plan. Small mercies.

"I understand," he says gently, pressing his fingertips on the whorls of the wood grain. "Well, sort of. I have no idea what that must feel like, Miss Kuriyama, and I'm sorry you're suffering. Would you like to do nothing again for a while?"