Howl listens quietly. Majorita won't be able to tell just from looking at him, but her story affects him greatly, reaching down into his heartless chest to rustle up deep and sincere sympathy. He can hear the truth of the story in the way she tells it, and it brings him back to the conflict happening in his own world prior to its destruction — and all the things he was doing to try to stop it, even if only some of it. The lengths he was willing to go to prevent stories like Majorita's from happening at all, and how powerless he knew he was to actually do so. These thoughts even pique the grip of the Kenoma around his soul, sending a familiar and validating squeezing sensation through his mind.

"That's a horrible story," Howl says simply, not in objection to having to hear it, but out of a desire to let her know that her feelings are valid too. He studies the condensation on the outside of his glass for a moment, choosing his words.

"I saw a similar sort of... idyllic past, as well," he finally says. "And neither am I the better for it. It is akin to... humiliation, I suppose you could say. And to know that such a past was shared with others, without my consent, is unconscionable."

So, he gets it. He really does. And he hopes Majorita knows she isn't alone in feeling that way.

"But... what happened in Venera wasn't a complete wash. No, we did not know the full extent of what we were up against, and probably still don't, but isn't that thing's existence this proof that we are on the right side?"