Discretion is bit and bridle on a tongue that might stray. It's the curve of a smiling mouth, the small movement of a long-fingered hand, the flicker of a half-closed eye.
Kira is not lying when he says to old friends that he is happy; he is radiantly, ecstatically, perfectly happy. He has never been so trusted. He has never been so needed. Nobody else has ever cared enough to ask these things of him.
It isn't their fault if they don't understand. He can only feel sorry for them, and keep his silence. He is happy. So very happy.
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