If Miyume had looked over her shoulders she would have seen Mirai with a thoughtful, impatient face. He sure felt spare. Yet he did not feel too much anger. He did not want her seeing how upset he felt. He would prefer to ruminate on the way that she had let him go like some sort of child who needed kindness.

His touch on her head was lifting away, and he threw up both his arms permissively. But for him it was defiant.

"Oh sure, we can talk. All girls want to talk, right?" he said, but he said it too bitterly. He wasn't too sure he would talk at all, but he had a lot to say now. The thought she was like the others was a ringing alarm in his ears...