"No," Kisuke says, vague, nearly a brush-off, "It's not the type of job you retire from." He offers Sookie a long, lazy smile, from beneath heavily lidded eyes, before looking around the kitchen in consideration himself. It seems like a good time for a snack, either because his hands are for want of something to do, or because he's legitimately hungry; he's having a hard time distinguishing tonight

"I dealt a lot with people sort of like yourself at home," he says. "Not fairy people, of course." He emphasizes the word with amusement, but not scorn. "People who saw or heard things that others weren't capable of. You must have had a rough time, growing up. I empathize, I really do. I also think that it's important for you to see me again. I want you to live up to your potential. And I'm reasonably sure that I can help make that happen. If you're willing, and interested."