[ It isn't something Nanami enjoys or approves of: weaving, dodging, flipping back in response to questions. Though he'd always been the kind of person to keep to himself, rejoining the "world" of sorcery had built with it another boundary. Because by law sorcerers could not divulge even the generalities of cursed spirits and shamanism, exorcism, to civilians, it was best to avoid any prolonged contact entirely. Pragmatic to prevent extended communication, attachment.

He's an intentional enough person that it remains choice, rather than habit, to resist disclosure in a place where such must be pointless.

At his current position, turned toward Cloud, Nanami, too, observes the return to the fields. His attention remains on his drinking companion, the questions asked with what he identifies, immediately, as careful tailoring.

To the extent Nanami would ever own to a sense of humor, it probably doesn't extend to a black quip as to fired, because in a matter of speaking... ]

It's something different. Sorry, Cloud-kun, but I don't want to explain it.

[ An unpleasant story.

After having another sip, ]

With that sword, what kind of combatant were you?

[ And, after a beat, mouth slanted and voice tinged wry, ]

I don't mind if your answer is, "I don't want to explain it."