[Naoki's fingers twitch before they respond, curling back with hers, seeking the comfort of her touch. Some part of him still hates that he can't stop himself from these bad feelings (his mind doesn't let him consider that he has begun to get better about it).

His body slumps sideways, his head lowering toward her shoulder, the soft sound he makes thankful.] Mm...

I already know what some of them thought about me. But some of the others... like Futomimi... if they ever came here, I don't know what I'd say to them. Or what they'd say to me.

[And he thinks about the reaction, what it could be, at his inability to act. Or perhaps they wouldn't blame him at all. He doesn't know.]