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It is not the words Aoi says to her that defines it.
No, Nagisa had known for a long time that her words of praise, though genuine, did not reveal her hand nor feelings. Such things were kept so tightly under lock and key, they might as well be silent.
Except…
It's the way Aoi settles carefully into the couch next to her, laying the blanket just right so they can lean against each other without discomfort. It's the way Aoi doesn't fear Nagisa's ramblings, or a rebuke for blank stares. That despite how much Aoi wanted silence at home, she was willing to let Nagisa into that quaint little bubble.
It's how Aoi doesn't hold those little slips against her, those difficult oddities that always found a way to sting her friends and bleed exhaustion and anger and hate into each and every relationship she had.
How strange it all is. But then again, Nagisa knew that she wasn't normal, either.
It's something Aoi never quite says out loud, but the way that she's nestled against her side after all these years, after everything, that says maybe she loved Nagisa after all.