[ He takes the phone, squinting briefly as he adjusts how far to hold it from his face in order to read through the whole thing. By the time he finishes and hands it back, his cigarette’s burned down far enough that it’s an effort to ash off to the side without getting it on the cushion. He manages, if barely. ]

I didn’t think of shikigami. I should have. [ It’s somehow more unsettling. He should have, though, fresh from going against Nataku’s effortlessly created and recreated soldiers. ]

If that’s the case, I’ve got no reason to be injured. What did I do to piss these bastards off? [ He’s not sure he’s entirely serious for all that the situation was, of if he’s just grousing for the sake of it. It’s likely just deflection from his own anxieties, not that he’ll ever admit it. Still, it seems like it’d be an effort to recreate his wounds when people that were supposed to be far worse off were actually whole and healthy. ]