Six tilted his head, stopping mid-conversation to look as confused as she sound. He lifted a hand and rubbed at his throat, and tried again:

".... ... .......?"

Only for the same problem to present itself. After a pause and a scowl, he pointed at her head; couldn't it be something wrong with her? Because from his perspective, nothing was wrong and nothing had changed, so it couldn't have been his fault. He could hear everything he was saying.

While this was going on, the rainy scene started to inch up, little by little, coming down harder and thicker than it had to begin with.