William's radio has been set atop the coffin, sputtering and hissing in a way that would be altogether eerie if he were around to listen. Instead, he's off shining a flashlight at the surrounding trees, sizing up their limbs for use as a lever. He turns when he hears a voice—surprised first by its clarity, then by its youthfulness—and shines the light directly into Koushirou's eyes.

He hurriedly clicks it off. “I want to open it.” He tries to keep the words simple—feels a little exposed in doing so, his desires that much closer to the surface. He touches his left hand to his right shoulder: “My arm—there's a catch, a trick—”

He sighs, takes a step back. Flicks the flashlight back on, plays it over the tomb. “Did you come here by yourself?” he asks, which should've been the first thing out of his mouth, the first thought in his head. “You shouldn't be alone.”