Ichi is cleaned and dressed in his more modern garb. He's becoming adjusted to the ways of The Shadow's world, and makes it a point to try and practice what he's been taught.
Arriving, Ichi is smiling warmly as he takes a moment to orient himself by smell and what little sound he has to go off of. He sets his cane down with a gentle tap that helps him sound out the familiar room.
"Shadow." He speaks in English, his tone is polite and respectful. With the company, it's almost more of an inquiry as to the man's location in the room. He is so damnably difficult to find, Ichi would rather just let the man reveal his own position in the room at this point.
He uncrosses stretched-out legs and shifts to better sit up, and the rustle of cloth and stirring of street scents reveals his position before his voice does. "You didn't have to wear that, it's only me." He sounds a little tired, and the smells of pavement and car exhaust reveal he's come recently from his work, but his tone is lighter than it was when they spoke last. He's satisfied with a night's work, and that puts him in a fairly good mood.
"When I come, I try to practice." There's still the slightly stilted sound of a new English speaker to his words, but time talking to Chaz has certainly improved his rhythm. "Won't get better if I don't." The smells easily reach his nose, particularly now that The Shadow has stirred. "Busy night?" Mostly oblivious to the passing of day and night, he's made it a point to know what time of day it is regardless.
"You're doing well. Maybe we should start teaching you braille now." He notes the mild accent and the pacing of his speech. Ichi has come a long way very quickly, but of course he expected that.
"No busier than usual. It's done now." He pulls himself to the edge of the sofa, and then up with a quiet wheeze. A night stalking and fighting on the streets can make anyone feel old. "I have a few things from Cranston's personal stock. I don't think he'd mind." The death has bothered him in a way no others ever have, but he is a firm believer in moving on. There is only a touch of sorrow in his tone.
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Arriving, Ichi is smiling warmly as he takes a moment to orient himself by smell and what little sound he has to go off of. He sets his cane down with a gentle tap that helps him sound out the familiar room.
"Shadow." He speaks in English, his tone is polite and respectful. With the company, it's almost more of an inquiry as to the man's location in the room. He is so damnably difficult to find, Ichi would rather just let the man reveal his own position in the room at this point.
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"No busier than usual. It's done now." He pulls himself to the edge of the sofa, and then up with a quiet wheeze. A night stalking and fighting on the streets can make anyone feel old. "I have a few things from Cranston's personal stock. I don't think he'd mind." The death has bothered him in a way no others ever have, but he is a firm believer in moving on. There is only a touch of sorrow in his tone.
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