Makoto wasn't sure what to make of you. You were an old friend of Laurent's. Though... he wasn't sure whether the two of you could actually be counted as friends, given the digs that you constantly threw at each other. Laurent had called on you for help with a big con in the Caribbean, and you had answered, so he supposed you probably didn't hate each other.

You seemed like a nice person towards everyone but Laurent. Upon meeting Makoto, you'd given him a candy. It was certainly an impression. You seemed nice, but Makoto wasn't naive enough to blindly like you. He'd been burned before in this business, and he wouldn't allow it to happen again so easily.

He couldn't tell where your accent was from. Apparently, you traveled often for their "work," which was just a fancy way to say that you never stayed in one country for too long to make sure the authorities could never catch up to you. He knew the gig. He had to do it too.

At present, everyone was relaxing after a job well done by the beach. Makoto, wanting to spend more time with you before you left, brought you a glass of champagne. "Here." His Japanese accent when speaking English still made him a little shy, but it had improved.