[ why is gen such a little shit, both i and eustace ask ourselves silently (or out loud in my case)

For all his annoyance though, he knows that Gen knows the criss-cross streets of Kowloon far better than he does, and it's without question that he follows the silent instruction to turn up ahead—though maybe he should have, once he's forced to wedge himself into this shady dark alley that looks prime for a murder waiting to happen. He was frowning before but now he's frowning deeper, the tips of his ears twitching as he silently peers into the dark shadows to make sure someone isn't hiding in one ready to jumpscare him.

Truly, this city is not at all his style.

Neither is Gen's ribbing, though he's at least had months to build up a tolerance to that. Alas, there's no snow nearby for him to grab a second fistful and shove it back in Gen's face, so he's forced to settle for a disparaging look. ]

I don't need a kiss from you. [ Or anyone, really. ] Don't you have people closer to your age to be kissing? Or are old men the only targets you haven't turned off completely?

[ He says, at the ripe old age of 28. ]