[His fingers slip easily into Minato's. They're the same size, and the same length. He plays with his fingers absently, enjoying the touch.]

But a different person.

What happened was ...

[And he hesitates, trying to collect himself. It's still difficult to say, and difficult to face. If he were a Shadow without a gift of this human heart, it would have been simpler, but he wouldn't have it any other way. He brings a hand to his chest, resting there, as if it quells the momentary sting of pain that courses through him.]

... It was the same. Some things were different, details that made up the whole had changed, but in the end ...