[ elliot nightray is the kind of kid that likely holds much regard for fairytales. if he didn't, he wouldn't be half as inclined with the holy knight series and the fictive charm they hold for him. it spools on yarns of half-truths about pride and personal responsibility, and it's just like elliot to buy into really hokey shit. so he has no reason to disbelieve someone who has done nothing but extend a hand to him in a time of need, when he was out alone, further than his brothers had throughout their stay in tellus.

he's lonely, most days. and maybe it's selfish, but he needs a crutch — and if kaoru's more than willing to play the role of dutiful friend, then he won't ask for more.

so all the contrived emotional manipulation is lost on him, seriously. he can't stop from compulsively stirring his tea even after it's long since cooled, and then he stares into his contents like he's reading his fortune in tea leaves and found something particular propitious in their lukewarm contents. he holds the cup up and downs the dredges in one prolonged draught. setting the porcelain glass back on its saucer, eyes still averted. ]

That's fine, then. This isn't ... a kindness, really. I just wanted you to know.

[ it feels like a confession, and maybe it is. he isn't certain anymore. ]

Anyways, that's all I wanted to say. You don't have to reciprocate anything.

[ collecting himself, he picks up the tab and tip, collecting the cups in one harried flourish. ]

I'll take my leave now, so — will you be alright? I can walk you over to your next destination, if necessary.