[ ... aah, so that's what it was. That's why the gross feeling sitting heavy in his chest had felt so familiar. It's the same feeling he'd been trying to ignore the whole time he was speaking to Eustace and trying to ignore the mess that had been made of his ears, trying not to think about the fact that he'd been the one to get Eustace started down the path of infection.

It's guilt -- even if he doesn't really want to think about it that way.

Gen takes another slow sip of his drink, mulling his words over for a moment before putting his glass down. ]

Yeah, well. I'm fine, so.

[ Is he fine? -- he is. He tells himself he is. He has to be.

And while he can't mask the slightly forced quality to his words as he says that, Gen forges on quickly to distract from any tension in his voice; he raises a hand to pick at one of the pale strands of his hair, frowning at it like it's really the crux of the matter here when they both know it's not. ]

Dunno why it made my hair like this, but it'll probably go away in a bit ... if not, I can dye it, or whatever. It's not a big deal.