They're hardly oblivious at this point; they know they've spoken too much, about something that no doubt is equally too much. But it's too late, and the words have been said, and they just leave them there hanging uneasily as they follow this person towards something beyond prying ears.

This alleyway immediately feels like a more comfortable place for them, and despite the lingering anxiety, they lean against the wall with little care of whether it'll get their clothing dirty. They knock their head gently against the brick and sigh, and they can feel some of the tightness leave their chest.

Until the fire comes up, and their head snaps to attention again. "An apartment building burned down and the Enma has us doing—" They make a noise that reads as disgust far too easily, then clench their fist and equally gently pound it against the wall. "Enough. I'm not going to pretend it surprises me anymore. It's the same every time, everywhere. Of course it would be the same way here."