Yakumo rests upon huge lawnchair silently and glances in a far silently with the apathetic gloom, touching his old medical eyepatch solemnly with his wrinkled hand and putting his gaunt hand upon his concaved abdomen feebly as the elderly old man coughs whisperly and grunts.

"I am an old man already, but my body just refuses to decline while the ghosts of my past finally left me. I do not feel better still. At least my caretakers are with me, they take care of an elderly old man quite well, I must say."