[ He sighs quietly, and scoots out from under Katsura's arms to sit up. One arm draped over his knee, he gives Katsura a blank look. ]

She's always disliked you. Doesn't need the effects of any flowers.

[ And with that, he turns back to her.

See, he gets it. He doesn't like talking about himself either, and he wouldn't be happy if he was essentially forced to. He can understand it. So he supposes that's why he figures he might as well admit ... ]

All right, I shouldn't have taken advantage of it. You're right.

[ It's like magic. Maybe he's sick.

It's really just a quiet understanding, though. Attempting a parley. I get it. I won't do it again, is what it really means. ]