Ken wiped his hands on the front of his pants, scowling at the screen as though the power of his impatience alone would make the machine work faster. To be fair, there wasn't much for the database to work with, but Omi made the blasted thing work small miracles before. Surely something would turn up now.
Omi was doing his best, and Ken could tell from years of experience that he must feel twice as frustrated with the lackluster results.
In the meantime Ken would wait. And fidgit. And glare.
Just when he was going to offer to get Omi a drink or something just to have an excuse to move (or at the very least, feel , the faint sound of a hysterical Aya-chan made him turn his head.
"Omi, did you hear that?" Ken asked, already up on his feet and leaning towards the door.