"And there you go again," Zenkichi's tsks- once again reminded of their first meeting. "Damn, I don't know. We always thought about the prevention so far- the recovery is whatever we seem to have. Ah- it's not that relavant." He waves his hand, dismissing his own words like he had said to me. Nostalgia really was a dangerous drug.

He shifted on his footing, one hand resting on his waist as his hand wrapped around the small glass. He hadn't even realized there was a crack on its body.

"And yet here you are, alone putting in all the effort to get us along," he remarks carefully, not wanting to sound offensive or condescending. Reflective, if anything.

There's a knowing smirk. "Judging from the timing, I am guessing you were trying to defuse whatever was happening just a few moments ago?"