( even with the restrictions on his own abilities, like a wet towel being dumped over the top of his head--there's enough left of it all to feel megumi before he arrives; he doesn't say a word about it. instead, idling as always, he lounges in a stiff chair pushed up to a small, round table that's clearly meant for two, pressed up near the window as though the perfect spot to huddle in together with a date or, in this case, with someone who likely knows more about what's happening in the real world than he does. or maybe not? he doesn't know what megumi remembers, if anything at all; he doesn't know what he should keep from him, if anything at all.
it's not something that he makes a habit of, but there are certain truths he's kept purposefully vague from megumi: lying by omission, perhaps, but something he sees as a kindness. megumi has enough on his shoulders.
he doesn't look particularly troubled to be here--his legs stretch out under the table, so long they drag under the chair opposite him, and by the time megumi comes around to the table, all he does is twist his head up to look at him with a faint smile. one hand lifts, from where both had been pushed into his pockets; he gives a small three-fingered salute off his temple, where there's no blindfold but his sunglasses instead; it's easier to squint through the darkened lenses with how weak his eyes feel at the moment. )
Yo. ( his usual greeting, warm and calm. ) Me~gumi.
( that hand slips down, gestures out, open-palmed, to the seat across him. )
no subject
it's not something that he makes a habit of, but there are certain truths he's kept purposefully vague from megumi: lying by omission, perhaps, but something he sees as a kindness. megumi has enough on his shoulders.
he doesn't look particularly troubled to be here--his legs stretch out under the table, so long they drag under the chair opposite him, and by the time megumi comes around to the table, all he does is twist his head up to look at him with a faint smile. one hand lifts, from where both had been pushed into his pockets; he gives a small three-fingered salute off his temple, where there's no blindfold but his sunglasses instead; it's easier to squint through the darkened lenses with how weak his eyes feel at the moment. )
Yo. ( his usual greeting, warm and calm. ) Me~gumi.
( that hand slips down, gestures out, open-palmed, to the seat across him. )
You want a coffee? Something to eat?