When she doesn't hear Satoru move at all, and only gets a mumbled reply, Suguru stops and turns back to her, marching over to the bed and grabbing the water bottle she'd mentioned.

"Sit up, properly," she says, using the same tone she had reserved for Satoru all those years ago. A little forceful, still kind, the tone that had gotten Satoru to listen to her. "Drink this. I'm not leaving until you drink half of it."

It's stupid of her. So stupid. But this entire tour has been stupid of her. Satoru had left her no room to back out without looking weak, and Suguru had believed she was capable of standing on a stage with the woman she once loved. And everything since then has been stupid of her.

"I didn't say don't bite, I said don't touch me. I don't like it." She likes it too much; she's always liked it too much. That's the problem. Could she tolerate it for now? Sure, especially for the sake of the tour. But it's the aftermath she worries about, when Satoru's attention has suddenly shifted and they're no longer touring, no longer seeing each other. "Don't put words in my mouth."

There's a mini fridge in the room, and they're usually stocked with candy, so she hunts down some M&Ms for Satoru, returning a moment later with the one bag she found. "Eat these, too."