[The silence that descends between then afterwards seems to stretch on forever. Scaramouche said it himself— he would have never asked him. Kazuha flushes, his cheeks and ears reddening in embarrassment. So he wasn't interested in knowing more about him. He'd only made things awkward. The samurai tries not to dip his head, if just to avoid a scolding, but his lashes lower, obscuring his eyes as he turns them downward.]

It changed me as a person. Though I suppose they are. It hurts less these days... but yes, not completely.

[Just like his scar, sometimes the ache comes back, throbbing like it's new. Those are his hardest days, in which it's difficult to rouse himself out of bed. Scaramouche is usually gone by then, easy as it is to assume Kazuha is just sleeping in.

He sighs deeply, then tries turning his thoughts back to his plans. He'd find the right trees, growing closer to his home than he'd initially hoped. It made things convenient in a way. If things go well, he can invite him back to home for lunch. If it goes poorly... then at least there isn't a very far walk back to home.]

I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up.

[A smile smooths over his face again. Everything will go right.]

Didn't mean to bring down the mood. I can almost feel a chilly shift in the air.