Yamato's eyes narrow just a fraction of a centimetre, and a certain amount of intensity rises from him to meet Wells' own, just for a few seconds. He's not entirely aware that he's doing it.

"By his reckoning, since a little before he got hit by lightning," he says. "And by mine -- apparently about ten years, but I don't remember most of it. My timeline's a little contorted -- he met me when I was seventeen first, then eleven, back and forth for a bit, and most recently he ran into me when I was eight."