Mori watched her leave with circling- no, spiraling thoughts. Why could he not be of use? Why was he insistent on being a burden to the people supporting him? Why did he keep making a scene for the sole factor of his pride? Why was he so insistent on consistency? Did she hate him? Did she loathe the effort she had to go through for him? Did she suffer? Is she stressed and strained? Why couldn't he just help for once in his godforsaken--

Mori shook his head of the thought. He had asked plenty of times to help. She offered something. Attend to it.

They walked themselves against the wall to the door to the kitchen, entering and leaning against the wall to relieve the wounds of folds and keep weight off his leg. "I would love to converse with you."