Katsuya's mouth has gone dry. He grips the plastic fork hard enough to snap it and swears under his breath in rapid Japanese before picking up the fragments and disposing of the garbage. It's a good distraction.

A chance to do both things. What he needs to do...and what he wants to do? He's never had such an option before.

"I wouldn't be there terribly often..." He starts, almost as if he's trying to convince himself why it can't work. It's not because he doesn't want to. But he's gone a long time rationalizing why he can't have what he wants. "Is that...truly something you want to do? Is that a...genuine...passion of yours?"

He has to think about this either way. But Radio has no idea how grateful he is for even the option to be given. Katsuya looks floored, really.