He laughs a little, because he can, and because she's right, of course. But it's a kind sound, as it always has been, not cold or mocking in the slightest.

"Politeness comes in many forms here," he agrees, nodding. "You're hardly likely to actually catch anyone staring, for instance, but that doesn't mean they aren't doing it while your back is turned. And once they get up to a certain age, they're basically given free rein to say whatever they like, and it's considered rude to even mention anything to them."

He shrugs a bit, loose and relaxed. "It's something you get used to, over time."

He should know - his hair is hardly what's considered a normal color here, but it's nothing he can help. He considered dying it black more than a few times when he was younger, just to quiet the whispers his better-than-human hearing always managed to pick up when he was out with his mother - more for her sake than for his, because at that point he could hardly have cared less what any humans thought of him. But she'd always loved it, said if she were braver, or younger, she would dye hers to match, and even now that she's gone, Kurama can't quite bring himself to cover it up.