[The walk brings back warm, much-cherished memories: Sholmes prattling on and on, the two of them weaving their way through the streets of London, the easy pace of this dance to which they are always finding their way back. There's a nostalgic smile on his face as he listens to Sholmes' account; funny, to be as much in his element as he is out of it, along for the ride with his partner once more.

Mikotoba hums his agreement, or at a minimum his acknowledgment, of the man's observations. It matches with what everything he'd been informed of upon arrival-- far more honest, however, than the language of contracts and bureaucracy and the like.]

Seems a rather unorthodox way to go about hiring new blood.

[Any other insights, however, will have to wait. Once again, Sholmes is catching him off guard-- this time, however, Mikotoba relaxes the second the immediate surprise passes over him. It has been a long several days. It had been a long several days, even prior to his arrival. Bold as it is, they both need it, he thinks; without hesitation, he falls right into the embrace.]

Then you'll have to pardon my late arrival, Sholmes... [he says, patting a spot just below Sholmes' shoulderblade.] I am at your side now.

What a situation we've found our way into this time. Hell. It'd sound preposterous if I hadn't already observed it all with my own senses.