That was the end of the story. “…I thought I was getting better,” Sanagi mumbled at the end. For a while, Kousaka listened to her sob. He knew painfully well how it felt to lose confidence and become timid after a fit like this. And he knew that consolation with words had almost no effect at these times. So Kousaka was silent. He’d let her keep crying. But contrary to his expectations, Sanagi quickly stopped crying. She wiped her tears, took a deep breath, sat up and turned over, and sat on the edge of the bed. And for a moment, she gave Kousaka a meaningful glance. Maybe Sanagi’s expecting something from me. Or maybe I want to do something for her, so I’m projecting it onto her glance. Either way, the conclusion was the same. I should do something for Sanagi, Kousaka thought firmly. Unlike me, she’s at an age where she still has a lot to sort out, where you’re fragile and easily-hurt. Now is the time she needs support the most. Kousaka sat down next to Sanagi. And he timidly offered his hand. His bare hand, since he’d taken off his gloves on returning to the room. And he touched Sanagi’s head. Instantly, numerous disgusting words like “pores,” “oily skin,” “keratin,” “staphylococcus epidermidis,” and