It's six stupid words, and they shouldn't hit him quite so hard, but they do anyway. It's like a gunshot, like a knife that reopens a forgotten wound. His breath catches and he shivers, looking off to the side as the scene plays out behind his eyes one more time, and yet somehow it hurts even more this time, standing so close to him, feeling those red eyes. The last touch of fingers, the way hands laced together as he drew his last breath, struggling to say words he couldn't get past the blood he was choking on.

"It's been dealt with. Nothing notable, but I had to take a cab here," he comments softly, a shrug of his shoulders. If Xanxus is paying attention he might notice that there's blood on the black of his suit. Feel free to guess if any of it is actually his own. He nods in silent agreement to the fact that transportation has already been arranged, glad for it.

"I wasn't followed," he clarifies, as if it needs to be said, a frown at the fact that Xanxus might think he was that sloppy. He might still be a teenager, but he had been doing this sort of thing since he was a child. He wasn't like the rest of them.