“Yes, Suguru.” Satoru’s smile is playful enough to be mocking, but she takes the condition as a command and lets go. It sounds like an invitation to her: shower, then come and menace Suguru some more. It’s a plan.

So she goes and cleans up after the concert, showering and changing into lounge pants and a tank top, a soft wireless bra she can sleep in. She checks in with her people, makes sure that everything is resolved and they know where she is, gets fed and drinks more water, and then lets herself onto Suguru’s bus instead of climbing onto her own.