There were questions he could have asked. The temptation was there, born less from curiosity than concern but he knew well enough that not every sorrow benefited from being dragged into the light before its owner was ready to name it. So when she blinked the moisture away, Haruto allowed her the dignity of pretending he had not noticed quite so much as he had.

His gaze lowering again to the garden. ……Hai. Tabun, sō nanodeshō. (...Yes. I suppose that's true.) he smiled faintly, his maw touched by the same melancholy that settled into her own. Demo, kawari ni naru mono ga nai kara koso, oboete iru koto ni imi ga aru no kamo shiremasen. (But perhaps because nothing can replace it, there is meaning in remembering it.) home could not be remade simply by planting familiar flowers beneath unfamiliar skies, yet there was something comforting in the effort all the same. A piece preserved here — a custom carried there, names spoken often enough that distance could not swallow them completely.

When Izumi turned that surprised look upon him however, some of the solemnity slipped from his expression. Haruto's ears tipped forward, and the amusement that followed her accusation brightened his gaze. Mochiron, sentakushi wa arimasu yo, Izumi-neesan. (Of course you have a choice, Izumi-neesan) his tone remained perfectly earnest for all of a heartbeat before the smile at the corners of his mouth betrayed him. Tada, kotowararetara, tsugi wa motto yoi riyū o motte modotte kita deshō. (Though if you had refused, I probably would have returned with a better argument next time)

The teasing faded into something quieter when she gave her consent. He suspected there were other duties expected of someone bearing their family name that would have appeared far more impressive from the outside but this was simply where he believed he could be useful.

Hai. Zehi kikitai desu. (Yes. I would very much like to hear it.) there was a curiosity in him now, though it was tempered by patience.