I don't want anyone to see us together until I'm less shaken so I can pretend we just met. I didn't want anyone to think you were...that relative.

Or that something was weird about us looking similar.

Because I haven't -

[He leans back against the windowsill, arms acrossed.]

Only one friend knows what I am. Even back home, she's the only one. She's human. It doesn't have the same connotations for her.

I don't know how my other friends would take it.

[Especially given who he's a copy of. Another human witchhunter.]

But you still need to answer my question. What does it even mean to be a homunculus in your world?