"Yeah," Tachibana acknowledged, accepting the cup with a small nod of thanks before following Isaka to the thankfully semi secluded spot.

As he sits, his restlessness shifts, the hand not on the cup tapping lightly on the table surface before he holds it out in silent offer, not looking directly at Isaka.

He could just simply blast the memory from where he sat, but with physical contact... it was easier. And Isaka would be prepared for it, when it came.