There she went, scribbling in that book of hers again. It had grown to be a familiar sight -- smile, scribble, smile. He could only return an expression that mirrored hers, unconsciously and effortlessly masking the vague sense of irritation that he had come to think of as a completely irrational response to certain statements, his entire psyche gearing him to respond to them as though they were traps. "Assumptions? That's too harsh a thing to say, isn't it?" The tone was jovial though the voice was soft, and with the deft hands that worked quickly on the origami paper, it gave him the appearance of being nonthreatening and mild-mannered. "You could have softened the blow of telling me that I was wrong by calling them educated guesses." As for where the mistake lay, Tsurugi had no interest in finding out. Noticing that the professor was a number of steps behind him, he paused, giving her the time to catch up.