"You keep demanding these answers, Satoru, and expecting me to give into you, but why should I?" She drops her arms, and reaches for the robe she'd been wearing earlier, wanting something warmer than the tank top she was wearing. "You haven't given me one reason to tell you anything personal and private." No reassurances that she wouldn't use this against her, which is possibly mean of her, but Satoru knows where to dig, even if she does it unintentionally.

She slips the robe on, turning back to Satoru, lounging on her bed.

"What if this is it, Satoru? What if I am this cold bitch, who doesn't give a fuck?" She's not, and never has been, and that's the problem here. If she was that hateful, cold bitch, she could have walked away a lot easier. She wouldn't be here. "I'm a damn good actress, I could have convinced you that this mythical "your Suguru" was something that existed. And do you hear the absurdity of that? Your Suguru? Was that all I was?"