You ask that of someone who doesn't even want to see tomorrow?

[It's unusually morbid for him. Not that he wasn't usually morbid, but this was a different sort of response devoid of humor. The parts in his bangs let his eyes be mostly visible, the look in them a hollow sort of existence despite the way his irises glowed from their own light.]

If I go anywhere, will it matter? Any step I take will just direct back to a zero point. There's nothing for me, right now.