Suguru changes into her pajamas— matching shorts and a tank top— and crawls into bed when she's in the relative comfort of her room, but there is no chance she can sleep, and she knows it. She does feel best not to think about Satoru, but that's also impossible. The guilt twisting her stomach is at least familiar, and she's dealt with that before. After her terrible, cruel blowup at her group mates, she'd learned to cope, writing it out in sing and throwing herself into her music.

It's too soon to write a song about how this encounter with Satoru made her feel, especially since she hasn't even sorted out her feelings, but she can throw herself into her performances. Satoru is, at least, professional. Mostly. They can manage on the stage, even if it won't match the same playful energy of the first night.

It's surprising when she hears the knock at her door. It's too familiar to be anyone but Satoru. Despite her misgivings, Suguru climbs out of bed.

"Satoru," she says, opening the door. It's late, and Suguru isn't about to have a conversation in the hall, despite everything between them, so she opens the door wider, and gestures her inside.