( it does start to feel like the old days--not that those days are very old, at least to him. it doesn't feel like it's been so long since he's seen either of them, no matter the time he's spent locked away; it's impossible to know how long he stayed trapped there before arriving here, hard to know when time seemed to stop within the confines of the prison realm, but even so, nights like these, spent in the warmth of yuuji's excited voice and megumi's glowering face, feel something akin to home. it feels less like they're trapped in some strange, foreign city and more like they're back in tokyo, enjoying a light evening together--which is why he settles in comfortably, taking up a plate so that he can dish himself up.

of course, compliments are due to the chef, which he gives, liberally--nothing wrong with hyping up yuuji's ego, after all, as he sets his dish on his lap, legs crossed comfortably to support it. the candies and sweets are, of course, tucked dutifully by his thigh; he hasn't forgotten about them, and he isn't the type to indulge much in regular food, anyway.

it's why he's idly toying with the piece of fish he's snagged onto his plate when yuuji speaks--and his brows lift in question over the rim of his new sunglasses.

it isn't strange to hear such a forward question from yuuji: he's perceptive, in a different way than megumi, but he still picks up on things without realizing; it's more that he isn't sure whether or not honesty suits the situation, or how to proceed. he's still wearing a smile as he sets his chopsticks down and smacks a hand onto yuuji's back, lightly, fondly. )

He~ey, what's with this? You guys are looking so glum. Shouldn't you be glad to see me? ( his hand draws back, fits up the chopsticks with one smooth move. ) ...Really, you don't need to worry about me. I'm just adjusting, you know? Moving...some thoughts around.

( it's honest, at least. he just isn't saying what those thoughts are. )