[ It's a relief that he seems to have been able to smooth things over. It's not like him to be so careless. Hiyori nods in agreement. Though he would like to press on the subject a little more, if only to understand his circumstances and avoid trampling upon his feelings, he puts a cap on it for now to avoid being nothing more than a gossip. The man before him doesn't seem like the sort to want to casually discuss another's circumstances with a stranger who had started the conversation in such a tactless manner.

Rather than focusing on that, his eyes remain fixed on Komaeda as the walk along and even as they stop. He's not an emotional man, nor one to be drawn in by others, but there's something about this one that makes him want to be closer. He wants to peel back the layers and find out what makes him tick, to whittle away the hours with him, and he has to clear the feeling out of his head. It's the pallid skin, gaunt form, and wheezing breath, all the tell tale signs of a sickness as easily cured by his hands as any other.

But he thinks that he'd only incur his ire by saying so, and so he refrains from considering such a fool's errand. ]

Ah, I thought we had met here...

[ He presses his fingertips to his forehead as he's struck by a sense of vertigo. There's a sharp pain in his chest, and for a split second the world goes red, but the world rights itself a second after. He furrows his brow, lowering his hand and shaking his head as pieces start to slot together. ]

That's right. You're often in the library, are you not? I believe we would speak there, though i suppose that's impossible when you've been here longer than I have.

[ But with transfer students coming in with dual sets of memories, perhaps it's not that odd after all? ]