There were answers. There were moments of academic rote, words to be said to ensure that the land (in its most metaphorical form) could continue its growth and development by the encouragement of the youth. There were things Zetsu was paid to repeat, which he could already feel his tongue curling around, which his lips were parting to allow to escape.
Then there were the details he was rewarded for noticing, like the way the lines of a person's annoyed expression made them suddenly look a good deal like another person or the frustrated intonations a boy could make that matched a recognizable speech pattern of a man he knew or the much more obvious flash of a ring on the hand of a person seated before him.
The answers remained in the back of his consciousness, ready to be pulled up and played back at will. His lips, however, paused completely, head tilting to the left as he remained focused on the connections his brain was creating at a rapid fire. With the slightest hint of delicacy to his tone, Zetsu responded calmly, "It's taking you a good deal farther than you'd have gone on your own, dumbass."
Well. Maybe as much delicacy as a sledgehammer to the conversation.
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