His mind should go right to Vash as the child peeks around the shelving, but there are just enough differences where that isn't his immediate conclusion; he hasn't seen his brother since the Fall, and time distorts things relentlessly. But a plant is a plant is a plant, and he feels obligated to all of them, and if one of his dependent, soulless sisters produced another free-thinking child, then he'd see to that child too! "We are brothers," he confirms, a smile crossing his face. Oh god, were he and Vash ever this small and cute? How did Rem stand it? "Are you having a little trouble with your gate? Maybe I can help." All the maliciousness, all the hatred and scorn reserved for humanity is entirely absent, as if it never existed; he could remember warmth and affection, even if it's dulled after these long years. It's been a long time since he could speak to his own kind and have any kind of response at all.