Her theory was that even the most fastidious person could get over most obstacles as long as they had trust. Kousaka insisted that no matter how much they might trust each other, if he “can’t,” he can’t - but she rebutted that this simply meant there wasn’t enough trust. She viewed the fact that as much as time passed, he wouldn’t kiss her, much less hold hands, as proof of insufficient love. While it was true there was a lack of love, she wouldn’t lend an ear as he tried to make her understand the more fundamental problem. Their semi-similar personalities made for calamity. She was convinced she understood fastidiousness, and had a kind of pride in her own love of cleanliness. The actions of Kousaka’s that went beyond her understanding - washing change after getting home, discarding pens he lent to others, taking a day off class just because of a light drizzle - she decided for herself that these arose not from a fear of the unclean, but a different mental cause. She wasn’t a bad person, but she had a fatal lack of imagination. It was a miracle their relationship even lasted three months. After breaking up with her, he didn’t find anyone new. His first and last lover. Well, then again, maybe there wasn’t any love there at all. Hijiri Sanagi visited the room at 2 PM. The intercom sounded, followed by a sound like the door was being kicked down. He unlocked the door and opened it to find Sanagi standing there with her hands in her cardigan’s pockets,