[With the envelopes safely in Minato's hands—they're just photographs, large prints, thin sheaves of them in each envelope, that high quality photographic paper nowhere near flimsy—Yukimi gets to scribbling. His penmanship is a series of clipped strokes made like short cuts with a pocket knife. It's legible, though. When he tears out the little page, it's got the name of whatever special honey, instructions for making cider, and the address of a family-run specialty mart.]

You're not gonna start doin' this right away. I don't think you'll go check out that store today or anything, either. But keep this. Once you're ready to take a whack at it, you're ready to start thinkin' about other stuff, too.

[You can't force someone to take care of themselves. Unfortunately. Nobody was able to force him, either. But it helps, at least, to have the tools at hand.]