"Don't let this impact the tour," Suguru says. She waivers for a moment, wanting so desperately to go to Satoru and comfort her, reassure that the Suguru she knew did exist.
But Suguru wasn't that person anymore, was she? She'd left, in such a blaze that her former groupmates hated her, that Satoru didn't want her now, just the illusion of who she had been once. No longer Satoru's Suguru, just a cold bitch. Which had partially been her intent, driving that wedge further between them.
She turns around again, chin high and shoulders back, and marches out of the room. She lets the door close behind her, resisting the urge to slam it. Once it closes, she slums against it, sinking to the floor in a mimicry of Satoru's position earlier. She rests her forehead on her drawn up knees, carefully breathing in and out, letting the tension drain out of her.
Suguru sits there for a few minutes (ten) before picking herself up off the floor and walking back down the hall to the bank of elevators.
The next night is their final performance in that venue, which means they'll both be on buses after that, and Suguru won't be able to go find Satoru down a maze of halls. It'll be better that way, she reassures herself, as she reaches her room, and washes her face. She drapes her robe over a chair, reaching into the pockets for her gloves, and cursing herself when she realizes she forgot them.
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But Suguru wasn't that person anymore, was she? She'd left, in such a blaze that her former groupmates hated her, that Satoru didn't want her now, just the illusion of who she had been once. No longer Satoru's Suguru, just a cold bitch. Which had partially been her intent, driving that wedge further between them.
She turns around again, chin high and shoulders back, and marches out of the room. She lets the door close behind her, resisting the urge to slam it. Once it closes, she slums against it, sinking to the floor in a mimicry of Satoru's position earlier. She rests her forehead on her drawn up knees, carefully breathing in and out, letting the tension drain out of her.
Suguru sits there for a few minutes (ten) before picking herself up off the floor and walking back down the hall to the bank of elevators.
The next night is their final performance in that venue, which means they'll both be on buses after that, and Suguru won't be able to go find Satoru down a maze of halls. It'll be better that way, she reassures herself, as she reaches her room, and washes her face. She drapes her robe over a chair, reaching into the pockets for her gloves, and cursing herself when she realizes she forgot them.