He was deep enough in thought that he hadn't noticed the man at all until he was next to him. Mikado jumped, startled, then visibly relaxed. "Ah, Orihara-san...." That it was relieving to see him was possibly something that should cause some alarm, however, it was how it stood. Izaya was the only familiar face in a sea of irregularities, and had been nothing but helpful. Even that, however, caused something like resolve to move through him. He wasn't going to rely on Izaya. He would attempt to stand even. Here, at least, maybe... They were viewing things the same.

He nodded, though it wasn't clear if it was to himself or to the man. If he was going to start making movements, he couldn't continue to allow himself to act as he previously had. Here, at least.

"I learned some things last night," he started, tone level and open. "I'm trying to get used to them." For a moment, it seemed like that was all he was going to say. Then the boy held up the hand he had been rubbing--it was unblemished and smooth. "For one... This was scraped and raw last night. There's a kind of technology in that... That chapel? The place that we went to with the soldier?... And it transfers wounds to other people." Another beat. "It was an undeniable 'truth.'"