"Anou ... " he starts with, sliding her a look out of the corner of dark eyes at her change of the question. It's a difficult decision, how to answer. Truthfully, untruthfully, vaguely. Each is an option, and none of which are more desireable to him on face value. Truth was relative, and when it wasn't, often irrelevant. Truths didn't work. He'd learned that long ago.

But he no longer had anything to hide, and he had, essentially, no valid reason to rell this woman, or anyone, less than truths about himself. Karakura had been a place he'd needed to keep himself cloaked. Darrow was, simply put, a different animal.

"Not entirely, no," he agrees at length. "I'm a spirit of a sort, honestly. This body is an automaton. But a very convenient and accurate one."