To avoid her steady gaze, Hiro's going to look down at his own flour-covered knees and absently brush at the marks, an unconscious, slightly nervous gesture. Honesty. Not so easy for someone who's gotten really good at evasion in the past few months.

But after a moment, he'll reply, quietly, eyes still lowered, "Sort of both?" It's embarrassing to admit that he still feels unsure to the point of genuine fear, but it's worse to feel that in the first place.