"Fake? I'm not sure what you're talking about," he says, confused and somewhat sad frown on his face. "I assure you I am not being 'fake', as you call it."

She's a genius, of course she'd know he's fake as hell- because he is. He wants nothing more than to tell her to fuck off, but instead, no, he has to sit there with this overtly polite face and demeanor. This is dangerous territory, he has to steer the conversation away from this.

"Five months, huh? That's a lot of time! I assume you've learned a lot about this strange place, then?" he asks, a not-so-subtle attempt of saying 'please don't push this'. "So! Any suggestions for what there is to do? I'm feeling a little peckish... but it appears Sakura-san isn't here right now."

Peckish, right. Awful diversion, if he's going to have to eat something he's going to scream. Internally, of course, but still.