[ he watches the flowers wither with another exhale. this one even deeper than the last. though, sata never particularly felt remorse for the bleak comments that ran rampant from between his teeth, he does recoil a little at her reaction. at least inwardly. there's a few moments where he just silently watches her. the listlessness of her movements grating on him even more than her previous enthusiasm. ] ... that's just my opinion.

[ he finally offers those words, before mixing his coffee with some milk. he quietly takes a sip. bitter. furrowing his brows, he places it down curtly. then with a small cough as if to displace the uneasy atmosphere. ] You don't have to worry about me. After all— [ the flowers begin to bud once more; growing in small increments. only as he continues... ] —"cheering" me up does nothing for you.

[ they are decimated once more???? gomen. except he's never actually gomen. ]