[Quirks, plural. Plural. That already says plenty, and so does the look on Hizashi's face. He knows that look. Hizashi's always had his heart on his sleeve, his thoughts in his eyes. He'll have to say something. He's not...good at this, but Hizashi knows that, too, so he'll know what it means.

Taking another slow swallow of coffee, he's quiet a moment before he speaks again.]

I'm not going to ask you about any of it--or most of it, at least. Whatever happens--I know it's bad. You don't look like that over nothing. If you want to tell me, I'll listen. But I'm not going to make you tell me, and I'm not going to be mad at you for anything you don't want to tell me. As long as we can make sure the kids are safe.

[Reaching out with his free hand, he lets it rest lightly on the back of Hizashi's shoulder.]

Okay?