Owen nodded. "You're probably worse than me with those inner demons," he admitted to Bahamut. "Still... I don't know. I know you guys are all about... hopelessness and despair and all that, but..." Owen sighed, figuring that there wouldn't be much use in pushing it. Still, he had to get it out there. "If I was in a world where fighting wasn't allowed... I'd still have to adjust while I'm there. Find other ways to occupy myself, or something. Easier said than done, I guess, but... I know I wouldn't just bide my time and wait until I could go home. Especially if the home I have to go back to isn't... the best."
Owen's expression darkened a little, just then. He wondered if everyone back home would be alright. He didn't like thinking about it, but he, too, didn't have the most ideal circumstance to return to.
"--But," he said, "I still don't want to let that sour my mood here if I can help it. I know it's hard, but... can you at least promise to try, just a little? I don't think I saw you smile once, even..."
"I don't have lips," Kyurem said.
Owen pinched his brow.
"She's got you there," Cal pointed out.
"And in exchange," Owen said, "maybe I can... help you out in some other way. Anything. Maybe I can divert people away when you're meditating. Or get you some books, or something. Sleep aids? Or..." Owen shrugged.
"Maybe he can try adopting your mindset," Cal quipped. "Swap perspectives and maybe you'll find a healthy middle ground."
"That feels like switching places with Zekrom," commented Kyurem. "I would melt."