"Oh, it's nothing." He touches his chin, looking critically up at the shabby little store, and the bold sign above it; he thinks about Junes, and how sharks swallow up minnows without even noticing. Tapestries, and timelines, and coincidences. "I just know someone else who lives above a shop.

"Anyway." The fake-as-fuck smile makes a brief reappearance, as he indicates his absurdly fancy shopping bag. "I should get on. Good luck settling in, Tatsumi-kun."