[He's noticed the tension, of course. Kagari's no profiler, not like Kogami, but he's not short on perceptiveness. Only thing is, he's not sure how to address it, or even if he should.]

Yeah! You know, like the one that talked to you in your dream before you woke up. Promised you stuff like keeping your friends safe.

[Friends, family. The latter is an even thornier issue, of course; he doesn't presume to have any ability to disentangle it, not when he himself has never had the chance to see his parents again, to attempt to rebuild something from the ashes of pain and resentment.]

There's a few of those around here. One of those is like, a housekeeper-slash-cook for the station.

[But that brings him back to the tightness around Masaoka's eyes, the way he was obviously troubled. They don't have to talk about it. He could just pretend it's not there. It's not as if he's ever been any kind of confidante for the older man. Division One was united by the fact of being trash picked out of the gutter; they never really discussed what had made them fucked up, just held the solidarity of knowing they were.

But things are different here. And Kagari feels like he needs to know one thing before he can even pretend to carry on as normal--]

...You're free now too, you know.

[Aren't you happy? Do you miss Japan? Do you want it back?

He doesn't speak those questions out loud, but they're written into his expression, his tone, the gaps in between the words that do leave his lips.]