"I'm not saying anything." Hiro raised his hands defensively, protesting his innocence. Ginta appeared to be fine, though still a bit pained, and memories of his own past injuries twinged in remembered sympathy. "I'm not sure why you felt you needed to self-censor, though..." He lifted an eyebrow, questioning.

Ginta shrugged one shoulder, his arms still held close to his body to defend against the aftershocks of pain. "Grandmother's garden, Grandmother's rules, I guess," he mused, his voice airy but still tight, and gestured towards the pond. "And, you know, you shouldn't say bad words in front of little kids."

A laugh escaped from Hiro's throat without him quite realizing it, and he released the sudden tension that had built when he'd seen Ginta begin to topple. "Fair enough," he conceded, resting back on his palms again and tilting his head to let the sun warm his closed eyelids. Companionable silence reigned for a rare moment, backed only by the soft rustlings of leaves.

There were any number of things he could have said to break the stillness: they'd been in Intel at the same time, which was certainly an interesting path of inquiry to pursue, or he could have tried to extract more information about Oita-san, the only person Hiro'd ever met who was more impenetrable than Kotoe-san.

But instead, somehow, he found he was content to remain silent.