[Chuuta, he's coming over.] [Says the voice in Chuuta's head, the reason people have always singled him out. It's hard to blend in when you hear someone no one else can.]

Sorry. [Chuuta says, taking a deep breath and pushing himself up to his feet. He's tired, the sort of tired that has nothing to do with how much sleep he got last night or the still-dramatic bruise on his cheek. But this guy doesn't need to know that, or get dragged into Chuuta's bad mood.]

I think there's something weird going on with the flowers. I mean-- more weird than the ones that were talking earlier!