He might not be going back. The yearning for his home, for a clear direction, weighs in him heavier than ever, tempered only by the fact that if he returns and stays... he has no future ahead of him.

9S doesn't verbally respond to any of the statements, gaze sliding away. "Um, anyway. While I'm with the Carnival, I'm working in repairs," under an alien, ugh, "and as a scout. So it's not so different from home, even if the technology here is uh... it could really use an upgrade."

He hates to say it, but Peridot's work is the most advanced out of anything he's seen in the Carnival. Kind of shameful, really.

"Anyway, you better be sticking around." Of course he is; he's under contract. "One of your friends was really sad you left without an explanation."