Snow turned to face her then, too, feeling strangely touched by her words. He couldn't put his finger on it, exactly, but there was something about Yuna that was explicitly inspiring. Everything about the way she spoke and the things she said seemed completely sincere, and the level of hope and determination she had made Snow want to hope, too. It was nice to feel that way again for a change.

He wasn't really sure what she meant by the "the last time it happened," but he wasn't going to press her about it. She'd tell him if she wanted to, and if she didn't, then that was fine too. In the end, it didn't really matter. Snow knew exactly what she meant about how anywhere can feel like home, and he understood the sheer force of her will, and that was all he needed.

"Yeah," he agreed, nodding once. "Even if we can't fix everything, we can't just do nothing. We'll find a way to help these people. Sometimes just doing something is enough. It makes a difference."

Towards the end there, he was aware that he was more talking to himself than to Yuna anymore. These were things that he had to keep reminding himself off. You can't save everyone, and you can't be everywhere, and you can't stop everything terrible in the world. But even if you only save one person, isn't that enough?