Togusa's expression softens, the quiet worry that comes when someone explains a problem that it's difficult, or not impossible, to help them with. It's just something they have to live with. Togusa starts to mutter something in Japanese, then corrects himself, "Hemophilia? Or something like it? I'm sorry." Not said in a pitying way, though.

Togusa ponders something as he picks up his cup of tea, swirling it to cool it off. "You said your specialty was hemotology," he nods, some of the dots starting to connect about Lucian. "I didn't realize it was personally motivated."

Togusa's gaze can't help but look back to those wings. Bleeding gold? How is any of this possible? "If you're becoming senile already, then we're all doomed," Togusa shakes his head. "You're still young."