Koutarou's discomfort is obvious, and Togusa is trying to get a lid on his own unease. His friend, well, his friend was almost a fighter, if his father had his way. And he didn't want that life. So anything that drags him back in that direction makes Togusa a little protective of Koutarou.

Togusa snatches up one of the rags that Koutarou keeps around for cleaning before he picks up the gun. Force of habit to not touch it directly and put his prints on the weapon. The first thing he does is flip the gun over and lifts it to examine the underside of the barrel very closely. What he finds, or doesn't find, brings a sharp frown to his face.

"No serial number. Not that something like this could probably be registered anyway." Not again. "But it's old." What on earth is the mechanism on this thing? He peers at the chamber carefully.

Togusa's brow is creased sharply as he puts the gun back down. "I don't want you to get in trouble. I'd have to look up the laws on it, but we could probably get you paperwork on this as a decommissioned antique." But now his friend is in the exact same mess that he's in. Togusa's cheek twitches, but he has to fight that down. Help Koutarou first, get angry later.