Kit is definitely not the type to say no to a smiling child. He just doesn't have it in him.
In the end, they all seek out the ice cream together; Kit does have an understanding of what it is, given the last several months he's spent in Aifaran, and is only too glad to buy himself a cone as well in addition to the little Arybar child. (He isn't a total cad; he offers to get one for Rutile, too.) And so he is affably arguing whether chocolate soft serve is superior to strawberry (or whatever passes for strawberry in Konryu) when the child's family arrive at the train station and, amid thunderous exclamations of excitement and relief, sweep the little one up into their collective protective arms.
There's at least six of them, though, so there are lots of hugs to go around. Rutile and Kit appear to be on the receiving end of them, whether they like it or not.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" cries a tearful mother, while a blubbering father has to be cajoled away by a concerned auntie from suffocating Kit with the force of his embrace.
"We were so worried--please," the mother entreats, looking between the pair of them, "you must let us treat you to dinner. It is the very least we can do!"
Kit coughs, eyes still watering from the force of that hug, and manages a weak smile. "Um, sure," he says, sending a questioning glance Rutile's way. He gives a small shrug, a decidedly 'sorry dude, what else could I say' kind of gesture.
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In the end, they all seek out the ice cream together; Kit does have an understanding of what it is, given the last several months he's spent in Aifaran, and is only too glad to buy himself a cone as well in addition to the little Arybar child. (He isn't a total cad; he offers to get one for Rutile, too.) And so he is affably arguing whether chocolate soft serve is superior to strawberry (or whatever passes for strawberry in Konryu) when the child's family arrive at the train station and, amid thunderous exclamations of excitement and relief, sweep the little one up into their collective protective arms.
There's at least six of them, though, so there are lots of hugs to go around. Rutile and Kit appear to be on the receiving end of them, whether they like it or not.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" cries a tearful mother, while a blubbering father has to be cajoled away by a concerned auntie from suffocating Kit with the force of his embrace.
"We were so worried--please," the mother entreats, looking between the pair of them, "you must let us treat you to dinner. It is the very least we can do!"
Kit coughs, eyes still watering from the force of that hug, and manages a weak smile. "Um, sure," he says, sending a questioning glance Rutile's way. He gives a small shrug, a decidedly 'sorry dude, what else could I say' kind of gesture.