[He doesn't know what creeps him out more -- Eichi leaning in like that, or hearing absolutely anyone being that interested in his trainwreck of a brother. Ichimatsu takes both items and bends over, dutifully recreating the scrubbing motions he'd just observed.]

We're identical, so he has the bad luck of looking like me. He never shuts up about how cool and great he is... tch. His English isn't even that good. [Ichimatsu pauses to scrutinize the stains in the fabric.] ... he used to be here, but I guess he went home or whatever. Too bad you missed him. He would've loved knowing a flashy guy like you.

[A seed of fond nostalgia embedded in his tone? Perish the thought.]