( it's strange, and unusual: there's a shiver of shame that runs down his spine, shame at the question, shame at the truth of it. he's never lied to nanami before, other than perhaps paltry i'm fine's when he's been anything but. yet this is something that he hasn't told anyone, something that's sat in the back of his head, pushed there against the dusty shelves; he doesn't want to acknowledge what this place did to him, what he did to himself, and moreover, what the result of his first--and last--interaction with toji here had been.

so his gaze skates. it moves up towards the ceiling, almost like he's reconsidering that exit--almost like he's thinking maybe he should offer it, if only to avoid the conversation. )

He's seen me. We've seen each other. No one died.

( that's the crux of it, right? he isn't so stupid as to think that nanami would be worried for him--it's less a reflection on nanami than it is on the greatness of limitless, the greatness of the six eyes. there's nothing that can get past them, until suddenly there is; and toji himself had been one of those things, pushing him to reconsider the loftiness of his own ego.

his eyes stay rooted upward, refusing to look back down at nanami, or the stiffness of his back against the elevator. )

He hates me just as much as he hated me then. He might be a problem, but he might have his hands full of too many of his vices to really care.

( this is a place that's made for a man like fushiguro toji, right? his gaze finally slides, landing on nanami's face with a ghost of a smile. )

Well! Nothing we can do about it but keep an eye on him, right?