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Trowa's settled at a corner table with a book and an empty glass. Eventually he might bother to get another drink, but he hasn't yet.

The glass contained lemonade, for the curious. The book is in Japanese; it's a collection of speeches by a professor and would-be demagogue named Sugimoto Hayao.

Trowa doesn't look as if he's paying much attention to the rest of the room, but he probably is.

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. . .

Trowa's amusement doesn't show. But it probably does, to X.

He tilts the book so she can read the cover more easily, closing it around his finger like a bookmark, and he placidly reaches for the pitcher to pour for them both. (One could say that Cathy has him trained, except that Trowa only has manners when he feels like it.)

X is not a great fan of lemonade, but it is less sweet than many things, so she will cope.

Which is to say, once Trowa has finished pouring, she reaches out for the clean glass, picks it up, and takes a sip.

Then she looks at his book cover again.

"You speak Japanese, too?"

Trowa nods.

Informatively.

"[I did not know.]"

Switching to Japanese at this point only makes sense, right?

Seems logical to Trowa.

"[Some of the other soldiers were Japanese,]" he says.

Because this is X, and she's a friend.

And because there's nothing that's a giveaway of feelings -- old, and complicated, and therefore largely ignored -- in what he says or in his matter-of-fact tone.

"[My sensei was Japanese.]"

She takes another sip of lemonade.

Trowa accepts that.

And has some lemonade too.

She hasn't mentioned a sensei before. But she'll volunteer more if it's relevant. (Normal people, Trowa, would think 'if she wants to.')

X appears content to sit in silence, at least for a while.

Then --

"[They were your friends?]"

Beat.

"[The other soldiers.]"

Trowa considers the question.

Then: "[Yeah.]"

If X were almost anyone else, she would get a shrug.

If Trowa were younger and nameless, she'd get a shrug, too.

But time does, eventually, give some perspective. And other things.

"[I loved my sensei, too.]"

Some things are impossible to say in English. Or to understand in English.

"[He was kind. To me.]"

Kinder than anyone else, at least. It only takes a little.

Trowa doesn't exactly believe in trading confidences. If someone opens up to you, or is honest and straightforward, you are under no obligation at all to be likewise unless you want to be. Even if they're a friend.

But --

He nods, a little, in understanding.

"[They taught me a lot,]" he says, and if that could cover almost any level of emotional attachment -- that's maybe intentional.

They're in the main barroom, for one thing. And emotions, like personal history, are complicated things.

But it's the truth.

"[Good.]"

X appears to mean that, as matter-of-factly as she says it.

Then --

"[You did not have to kill them?]"

That question may, in fact, be a good way of saying something without actually saying anything of substance at all.

"[No.]"

The important ones -- Takashi, the important one -- died before Trowa killed any of his squadmates.

Directly, anyway. Whether he died because of Middie and her gift . . . is something Trowa can't say for sure, and never will, and either way it's done.

And the squadmates he did kill directly, he didn't have to. But that's a subject Trowa's not going to talk about even with X.

"[Good]," X says, a little more quietly this time.

Her personal experience was a great deal different.

So it goes.

Trowa doesn't say, I'm sorry. He doesn't believe in useless platitudes.

What he says is "[Yeah.]"

It is good, and easier than her situation.

Trowa is perfectly capable of reading between these lines.

"[It was war.]"

"[That happens]," X says, looking straight at him.

"[A lot.]"

This is not really a surprise to either of them.

Yeah.

Trowa has a sip of lemonade, which -- with the small downward glance that accompanies it -- is acquiescence.

Way of the world. (Or it was, anyway. But Trowa will never take peace for granted, even if he's more used to it now.)

People are still trying to kill X and her mutant compatriots.

Plus Osborn is still a problem.

X thinks that some level of guerilla-type warfare will follow her throughout the entire rest of her life.

She thinks there could be worse fates.

Exactly how much of that is conveyed in the way she lifts the glass of lemonade up to her mouth and takes a quick swallow --

Only Trowa can say.

Well, he does have some context to draw on.

And some cynicism.

Funny how that works.

Speaking of -- "[How's your city doing?]"

It's not such a subject change as it might sound, given that Trowa's last (and only) visit there involved mobile suits and thousand-to-one odds.

"[Repair efforts are underway.]"

X's response is prompt.

"[The Avengers are helping.]"

Tony Stark has at least as much money as Warren, for one.

For another, they have a god on their side.

He is very good at lifting things. And holding them in place.

"[I think it will be okay.]"

"[Good.]"

Rebuilding is.

Not having to rebuild is better, but still -- it's important.

X nods, just once.

"[I think so, too.]"

There are reasons X has been so interested in learning basic home repair.

So they're in accord.

No one is likely to be surprised by this. Especially the two at this table.

That is because they are not stupid.

Or self-deluded.

It is amazing how much these two things help.

X takes another sip of lemonade.

Trowa agrees.

It's amazing how many people do go in for self-delusion or incompetence. So it's nice to hang out with people who aren't.

mm, lemonade.