How is it that the people in his life seem to see right through him sometimes? Dante doesn't look back toward Togusa, instead fingering the objects on the table with the pretense of looking for more clues. Sure, he can say that people wouldn't judge him for what apparently happened to him in his other life, but... that doesn't mean that he doesn't judge himself. It doesn't mean that any lessons the other him might have learned would have carried over into this life. It doesn't mean that, were he put in the same position, Dante wouldn't make the same choices himself.

Take care of her. If the "her" in question were Ari, Dante's positive he would have made the same decision, as final as it felt.

"They're just flashes of someone else's life, right?" The words feel fake, coming out of his mouth, but Dante pulls up years of experience to make it nonchalant, disdainful. "They don't mean anything about me."

Aside from the fact that he'd apparently been the type of person that would kidnap princesses to reach his own goals. The type of person that would lose his heart to the darkness.

Dante shrugs. "They're not that important."