The screeching isn't the most welcome sound, but Eugene isn't one to interrupt Yamagi's strange methods of securing his peace — not that it will stop him from being a bit grumpy about it. He's been accused of having a bit of a soft spot for Yamagi by the remaining survivors before, and his answer to that is always the same: who doesn't have one for him? But time has it that strength replaces fragility in him, coexists with it, enmeshes, and he's felt more comfort in aiming some of that serrated edge the mechanic's way. It's not like they haven't had their blowouts and makeups.

"You'd rather listen to that than the ruckus outside?" He questions behind Yamagi, softly unfolding his arms as he contemplates joining his side. Nobody here could really understand him like Yamagi does, not at this moment, but he doesn't want to put any of that on him. None of the heavier thoughts he's having or the rising doubts and reluctance to embrace this reality or get comfortable in it.

He wants to see if there's a difference to the smiles Yamagi gives now and then, or if he'd ever only imagined it, so he'll watch everything closely.

"If it's supposed to be calming, the loud screeches and static in between kind of defeat the purpose."