[ makoto hails from a somnolent fishing town with a smaller general populace than most bustling japanese localities. they're not remotely ahead of the times when it comes to technology built out of cybernetic wires and interactive headsets, entire worlds allegedly transmuted into lines of code. there's something that flickers in his eyes — concern, wide and overwrought — but he shifts at once he ascertains there aren't any (visible) cameras in the vicinity, lobbing his efforts with heine's in tandem and dragging the unconscious doctor onto one of the gurneys lining the walkway. after some hesitation, he straps him in, but he doesn't bother tightening the belts, shooting the guy a rather reproachful grimace and settling back on the wall just adjacent to the stretcher. ]

Let's leave him out in the open. If the nurses find him, they'll probably guess what happened and take care of the rest. That way, they won't bring either of us in for questioning.

[ read: jail isn't fun.

abated, he cursorily brushes off his lab coat, straightening to address his companion without immediately inciting some kind of negative reaction warranting being jettisoned out the window. he doesn't know the whole story, but judging from the screams emanating down the hall earlier, makoto could probably take his companion's personal account at face-value. ]

We should go before they catch us, but I wanted to ask, um — ... you're new here, right? I don't think I've seen you around Tellus before.