The meal finishes peacefully enough, and I mostly listen to Kanji and his mother talk about their day. Or, Kanji's mother talks about hers, and he gruffly supplies snips of information about his.

It's not unlike mine and my grandfather's conversations, only I am usually the one to be more... forthcoming.

After dinner Kanji's mother ushers us off to his room, saying something about how it's so nice that Kanji has such a nice young man for a friend. I blush at that, but I'm grateful she doesn't know... hn.