[. . .]

[he shakes his head, reaching for a crayon as well]

Your story is your story. I'm not going to ask for it from Chuuya when I can hear it from you myself.

[he keeps his expression even when answering the next part]

I tried to stop a drunk man from harassing a woman. He tripped and fell, and was injured in the process. He told the woman to lie about what had happened; she told the cops that I had attacked him, and they arrested me and charged me with assault. I was convicted.

[also now he is doodling on some construction paper]

Do you plan on staying with the mafia, or do you want a new life, too?