[Raine is distracted enough she doesn't even look over for the sound. You survived, Yuan fills in, blunt and uncompromising. He shifts, bows over the back of the chair with shoulders slumped, as though he plans to rest his head atop Kratos's. He stops short of it, though, and in the end rests one hand gentle on Kratos's hair. Unruly auburn, the same as it ever was.]

[He doesn't catch much: but he catches the sound of Mithos's laugh, and the only reason he doesn't shiver is his control.]

[I should have been there sooner, he thinks, quiet and intent. All those years, and you were right there. I'm sorry.]

[Yuan takes a breath he doesn't need to take and then, as though nothing has happened, comes around the chair and sinks down in front of Kratos, pulling the tie from his hair as he does. There's the barest fringe of black at the ends of his hair, where he missed stripping the pigment out when he shifted it, but other than that it should be exactly as Kratos remembers.]