[she's ironed herself out by now, her face clean of any trace of agitation; she even looks a bit amused. it's just easier this way.]

She mistook me for someone else. It happens. [she lifts the box out of akira's hands, but doesn't leave yet, her eyes scanning its contents in a way that might imply that she's counting. or just stalling, looking for the right words.] Sometimes, though, I feel like... the less people know, the better it is too, you know?

Anyways, thanks. Try and look alive, Akira. It's almost 2018.