Angela had been worried, too. But she's had relatively light Iris cycles herself, now and then, and she knows a few people who barely display any traits at all. Still, Genji hadn't shown signs of a single enlarged canine or sharper eyes— strange, but perhaps not a terrible advancement. Maybe they're just growing accustomed to the changes and they'll wane over time?

It's all she could offer him, and it was far from a scientific or confident answer. And it certainly didn't mean she expected him to arrive in the middle of the night, new moon casting the city in a quiet lavender, as if to soothe all frayed nerves of the previous moons. The sharp raps against the door alarm her, ears perking up where she'd been nearly asleep in her own bed, slipping from the duvet barely warmed by her body heat and padding barefoot through the flat to the door.

There's no peephole, but it didn't matter. She has little enough cause for worry, and opens the door still in one of her partners' henleys hanging off her shoulder, concern already between her brows.

The white of his armor almost goes unnoticed; the ears, however, and the look on his face, doesn't escape her even for a second.

"Genji...?" A hand is held out for him, tentative but immediate, seeking one of his or an embrace to invite him in. "Those ears... Are you all right?"