[Gladion's expression, when Rindo first glances up, is clearly unhappy. Not severe enough to be angry, but just enough to look frustrated rather than only downcast.

He catches Rindo's glance out of his peripheral vision, though, and meets his eyes after a moment. That note of severity recedes. His gaze flicks away again quickly, self-consciously.

The stiffness he started the conversation with has slowly drained out of him, from his voice and face and posture. There's a little of it lingering, but his words gradually come less prepared and his stern mask splinters away. Right now he just looks kind of tired.]

Whatever she thinks of the fact, she is my mother. There are already people who know we're related. I won't be able to avoid her forever even if I did want to.