Right now, Liquid temporarily forgot that he was even planning to sit down. He opened his mouth to say something nasty, then closed it. Wait. Of course his father wouldn't recognize him. He was much older now, taller, but his anger still knew no bounds. He gripped the tray, trying to remain calm.

"Hmph, still trying to go with that, are you? Maybe the name Nyoka ya Mpembe will ring a bell." Like hell he was going to use the name they'd forced on him, but he knew the people he'd known as a child knew his nom de guerre, even if they refused to use it.