[His stare doesn't falter, even at her smiles and non-answer. And he holds it for a lengthy moment, clearly deliberating on what's worth pursuing-- if anything. It'd be so easy to just shut up and let her say whatever she wanted to say until he could find his bearings and then escape. After all, the hell does it matter to him? If she's honest, then fine, whatever. If she's not, that's her choice.]

You're pretty bad at this, you know. [And he'll let it go, continuing walking. An acknowledgement that he isn't buying her cheery happy 'oh well sanada-san told me about you so I dashed across the beach and want to invite you to cooking club'.... but also that he won't demand answers.

After all, he can be pretty bad at bullshitting sometimes, too.]

So how'd a second year end up working a bar? The rules must be lax around here.