#uhhr

"That doesn‘t have any reason to apply to me." Sigma knows how to be polite in a crowd. He‘s trained to resist scoffing and snark. It‘s hard not to see him smoothed out and performative. He obtained these habits from managing the casino, one of the tools of terror this event celebrates the defeat of. "I worked with Fyodor. I didn‘t do anything to help. Dazai dragged me along and I almost died." He shouldn‘t be here.

"Well he dragged you along for a reason, didn‘t he?" Chuuya‘s expression is hard to read, falling somewhere between skeptical and amused. "Kh. I can‘t even begin to translate whatever the hell‘s in his head. What I know is that he always has a good plan, and you ended up being part of it."

Sigma stays silent.

"You won‘t get anywhere trying to understand why Dazai does the things he does. For whatever reason, he sees potential in you and thinks that potential will go somewhere. He doesn‘t care if you don‘t think he‘s right. He trusts you. As far as I‘m concerned, that‘s good a reason as any."

It‘s incomprehensible. Dazai‘s incomprehensible. Sigma tries to process a response, tries to balance relevant information with appropriate subject matter for a casual conversation with an acquaintance.

"Thank you," is all he says. He doesn‘t even feel that much gratitude.