[As they speak, Gintoki takes to sitting on the floor. He stretches his legs out, holding his shoulder to stabilize it as he takes the opportunity to pause and simply... attempt to collect himself. He looks upward at the buildings ceiling, red eyes running over the support beams and light fixtures that sit overhead.]

Yeah, the glass is blocking out the smoke. Or the mist, right? I figure that's what those things live in. [The albino's gaze to catch the other's face.] Have you inhaled any of that stuff? It does stuff to you immediately. Isn't just a summer fog, y'know. So it's either luxury of choice or a waiting game. [His nostrils flare as he lets out an exhale, shaking his head. He was desperately fighting against thinking this was a hopeless situation... but damn if it wasn't difficult sometimes!]