"Red." It comes out before he's actually thought about the answer, though it's easy enough to guess why. Kamina was always in red. He'd been particularly fond of a dramatic red cloak. It was a look that would have seemed ridiculous and out of place if anyone else had tried to wear it, but Kamina made it a part of himself.

"Ah..." He reaches up and runs a hand through his own hair, realizing he'd gone silent for a long moment there. He was glad he could finally remember his brother and feel something other than misery, but those feelings were still an easy way to derail him. "Because that was his color." He didn't clarify who 'his' was, if she knew him, she knew Kamina ten times better, probably.