[ Souji knew he said be honest, but he hadn’t actually expected her to be. It was the sort of careless comment he said only to embarrass or to sting, the sort people always ignored when it came from him. So when she looks at him for a long time and doesn’t say a thing, he looks back. His eyes narrow at the use of his first name, hackles instinctively rising at the familiar address. Refreshing? Different? She liked him for those reasons? He knew he was different, even back when he still pretended he could be like everyone else. His mouth thins, but he keeps quiet, eyes flatly focused on her. ]

[ He hears what she’s saying. A part of him wonders why she’s saying these things in the first place (it’s because I told her to, he remembers) and the other is wondering how to feel. He wouldn’t necessarily disagree with her. People do lie, and he lies too. She likes him because he doesn’t lie to her about the things people normally lie about? With a power like hers, that made sense. It reminds him too, that Yuri’s like him. They’re both people who aren’t really people at all. They’ve lived lives that were missing the things normal people got to have. ]

[ But the sincerity of this moment is enough to unnerve him. It makes him want to draw a line and pretend nothing happened. Because that’s what he always does when things like that happen, though they happen rarely. Yuri’s no Kondou-san, no person Souji can stick a smile on for. It’s a good thing that’s not what Yuri asks from him. She wants honesty? He can do that much for her. ]

You’re right. I won’t say things that you want to hear. There’s no point in lying about that. I don’t care if you decide to tell me your true feelings or hide them from me, either.

[ simply. ]

But don’t think that any of this means that we’re close enough to call each other by name, Kozukata.

[ His voice sharpens when he says her name, but his face is still neutral as ever. He places his chopsticks next to the plate and gets up. ]

You should leave. I'll return the plate tomorrow.