Seeing the empty glass of juice signaled the need to Ishiah for another step, methodical as his mind always was. It had been used as a distraction and nutrition all at once for Lucy, like a serving of medicine placed out on the counter and meant to be delivered with careful attentiveness. He extended a hand to brush against Lucy's hair again, soft and fond, before the ever present sense of obligation to one's patrons rose in him again — after so many years of running the Ninth Circle, it was unsurprising.

"Let's set a date for next month, then, and give you some time to prepare so that you can enjoy the experience fully," Ishiah decided, looking at the pitcher of juice nearby. "I'm afraid that I should attempt to be attentive to my patrons now, at least until my next break, but if it would be more comfortable for you to remain here, I would obviously have just as much of an obligation to serve you." The suggestion was offered with slight levity of a sort that those who knew Ishiah well could recognize — the equivalent of a peri joke.