"A group?" Seiji looks up, his brows lifting in surprise. He is about to ask, but before he can Vervain explains the rarity of such a thing, and Seiji nods, mystified. "That must make things easier for you," he says with a nod. "But things are not too hard for me. Everyone in Caido seems very kind." From Jigano, who had led him to the Sanctuary on that first fateful night, to Kiada welcoming Seiji into her home, to Ronin presenting him with extra clothes... Yes, such kindness seems in direct contrast to the harshness of the land.
His attention returns briefly to the box in front of him. Working around the cat, Seiji finishes replacing the contents, leaving out a couple of near-empty containers. Speaking about his past is easier with something else to occupy his hands. The more people he speaks with, the clearer it seems he is an outlier. "I don't remember," he explains, a short shake of his head. "I remember some things, but... Very little. I lived by the ocean, I think. I played music." He glances up from his work (and from the cat) to mimic the posture one might take with a violin on one's shoulder, his right arm working an invisible bow. "I remember a cat, too. A white one." He smiles down at Chunk. "I don't know her name. But it makes me happy to see a familiar pet like this." He reaches out again to stroke the cat's fur, privately far more pleased than even his expression shows.
Finished with his task, Seiji replaces the box and pushes the empty containers toward Vervain. "These I think should be restocked," he says. His hand moves absently back to rub one of the cat's cheeks. "Most people I met seem to remember where they came from. Do you know of... anyone else like me?"
His attention returns briefly to the box in front of him. Working around the cat, Seiji finishes replacing the contents, leaving out a couple of near-empty containers. Speaking about his past is easier with something else to occupy his hands. The more people he speaks with, the clearer it seems he is an outlier. "I don't remember," he explains, a short shake of his head. "I remember some things, but... Very little. I lived by the ocean, I think. I played music." He glances up from his work (and from the cat) to mimic the posture one might take with a violin on one's shoulder, his right arm working an invisible bow. "I remember a cat, too. A white one." He smiles down at Chunk. "I don't know her name. But it makes me happy to see a familiar pet like this." He reaches out again to stroke the cat's fur, privately far more pleased than even his expression shows.
Finished with his task, Seiji replaces the box and pushes the empty containers toward Vervain. "These I think should be restocked," he says. His hand moves absently back to rub one of the cat's cheeks. "Most people I met seem to remember where they came from. Do you know of... anyone else like me?"
