[The Sin's tail drifts, wafting up from the tip and back again as slowly as a cat, recovering in its corner. Yuuto's voice isn't an unwelcome one. Not entirely. But given the static in his skull (how it blacks out his eyes and peels every inch of him open, piece by piece), the lack of company had almost been a mercy. If not for him, but for his, and he's always been the type of creature that would rather scurry away and deal with things on his own terms than have an audience to watch.]

[They didn't need it. And he could handle it, would handle it, like he has a million times before.]

M'fine, you little pissant. [His face might not be, but he is. Fine, he means. As fine as his head will let him, at any rate.] Tch. Saw all that, did you? She really does have bad tastes -

[He stands, feeling the cool of the floor between his talons, and for the first time in a while, the former homunculus holds a breath in his lungs. In his mind, his hair is too long, his body is too slender, and the coat he's wearing is frayed at the tails. Two years of being on the run and a world-ending scenario would do that to a jacket.]

- just restin' up, is all. Been busy these past few weeks. You know how it is. [Again, he isn't lying. He had been busy. But he's dodging the truth of the matter as he's wont to do. Better to avoid the complications of it all.]