Kubo isn't reading anything, when Rico comes investigating. He's writing things. For his scrapbook.
Which is a process complicated by the fact that Kubo never learned how to write. He has to dictate text into his omnicom, watch it be transposed as text that his telepathic earplugs allow him to read, then print it out on the palm-sized printer he brought on the trip, onto adhesive-backed paper that he sticks in his scrapbook.
The book itself is full of these printed summaries of missions, as well as selfie after selfie of Kubo in the corner of whatever he felt was important to take a picture of.
When Rico comes snooping, he's just placed a selfie of himself dressed to the nines in his father's spruced-up haori jacket over the kosode and hakama his mother picked out for him. The text under the picture reads "Mother, I am travelling through the stars again, and thinking of you as I wear your gifts. I hope the people I meet will think they look as nice as I do."
Kubo's expression was a small, absorbed smile as he lovingly curated the scrapbook, but the smile dropped as Rico made himself known. In its place is the skeptically horrified face Kubo made when he realized Rico had decided to join them on this little journey through the stars.
"I found it nicer a minute ago," he said, before he could stop himself.
no subject
Which is a process complicated by the fact that Kubo never learned how to write. He has to dictate text into his omnicom, watch it be transposed as text that his telepathic earplugs allow him to read, then print it out on the palm-sized printer he brought on the trip, onto adhesive-backed paper that he sticks in his scrapbook.
The book itself is full of these printed summaries of missions, as well as selfie after selfie of Kubo in the corner of whatever he felt was important to take a picture of.
When Rico comes snooping, he's just placed a selfie of himself dressed to the nines in his father's spruced-up haori jacket over the kosode and hakama his mother picked out for him. The text under the picture reads "Mother, I am travelling through the stars again, and thinking of you as I wear your gifts. I hope the people I meet will think they look as nice as I do."
Kubo's expression was a small, absorbed smile as he lovingly curated the scrapbook, but the smile dropped as Rico made himself known. In its place is the skeptically horrified face Kubo made when he realized Rico had decided to join them on this little journey through the stars.
"I found it nicer a minute ago," he said, before he could stop himself.