Sunny's hand is happy to help, only minutely startling when Jae goes to take it for his own purposes before becoming compliant and lax. The walk is mild and purposeful, and a lock of damp black hair sort of sways in time and out of order like a weather barometer, and Sunny thinks he remembers the last time he walked down the street holding hands with a person - he sort of tends to keep track of these things. It's different, across countries. He hasn't investigated the politics of personal space in Baedal, to be honest.

His hand grips back, more secure than earnest, and Sunny deals a quick smile at the building faces to his other side. It isn't that Jae's personal trauma is something to smile about; it's that this could have ended a lot worse, for all that Sunny can do things.

It isn't even noon, yet.