The hat gets placed back into its given spot on top of his head, and Kisuke reaches for his coat next, sliding an arm through one wide sleeve and then the other before hooking the cane he carried over his wrist and moving back toward Dean, glancing over one of his broad shoulders to his body behind him. He can practically feel the anxiousness coming off him in waves; he doesn't like being so out in the open in that state, as a bare soul.

"Maybe you're right," Kisuke agrees evenly. "The world of the living moves at a different pace. It accepts things more easily. It's open to more change. Change doesn't come often or easily to the place that Kuchiki-san and myself came from. There aren't many progressive minds to be found. Only plenty of rules. It's no place for a person like myself. Someone who treats a rule as the demon of a small mind. No place for someone unafraid of getting their hands dirty. In the end, it was for the better. And anyway,"

He offers Dean a brief, bright smile, before placing a flat palm against his abdomen, thrusting him down and backward with a bang, reuniting psyche and soma.

"There's something to be said for vacation in Hawai'i in the middle of winter."