In the meantime said troubadour did all that he could to avoid thinking. Thought processes would not help the situation and his mind would wander too far for him to be comfortable. The singer was sick of the wandering and sick of the pain and sick of just about anything that upset him. Instead he daydreamed of the words 'Ros had told him and now the sweet fact that they could be together always.

A part of him prayed for it to always last and a part of him wasn't sure it could. He was so broken and fragile... but now he'd begun to pick up his own pieces and 'Ros was helping to put him back together. However, this puzzle was missing pieces and Hikuzu was sure he knew which ones. The twins. Something would need to be done... he was positive that he could no longer care for them... but to give them up to the streets, that would be in itself a disaster. What could they do? He'd need to ask the coon.

Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear. As the thoughts dissipated into mist of nothingness, he saw his coon standing in the doorway with, what looked to be, a glass of juice. He was slightly sick at the thought, but it was necessary for him to eat and so starting off with a drink might ease his stomach. Afterall, after this experience he didn't really even want to eat but the children he carried were going to be hurt if he didn't. They probably already were.

Swallowing the shame he felt for his abuse, he smiled as bright as he could 'Ros, immensely happy to see him as always, "I'm not troubling you am I 'Ros? Can I help?" He added the last sentence in on a whim but he knew it'd be pointless. He was far too weak to move, much less feed their children and even less help 'Ros get the food to do the former.