[He just... sinks to sit. Carefully, on his knees, mindful of his lack of anything under his yukata. He doesn't need to actually flash her. He keeps rotating the glass in his hands, and for a moment he just sits there, quiet.]

...we. We fight a lot. We're rivals, but it's... [He shakes his head, carefully rearranging himself so he can sit in his usual wretched posture, angled so he's not giving her a full frontal upskirt.] We were both drunk, and he's really important to me, I... got too close, and he got mad, and he pushed me over the railing because I taunted him without realizing. [He sounds so tired.]