Her reluctance to surrender her stationery also began to make sense in that regard. And─why she didn’t carry a bag. Why she couldn’t carry one, either. “…This way.” Clasping Senjogahara’s wrist, I led her forward from the entrance where she’d been standing uncertainly. She was taken aback because I was a bit sudden, but while she gave me a “What?” she followed without resisting. “Don’t expect any thanks,” she said. “I know.” “In fact, you should be thanking me.” “I don’t understand?!” “I put that stapler around your mouth so that it’d hit the inside of your cheek, not the outside. I didn’t want to leave a visible wound.” “……” I couldn’t hear that as anything other than an abuser’s “It’ll show on the face, so punch in the belly” thinking. “It wouldn’t have mattered if it had penetrated,” I pointed out. “I judged that you’d quite likely be fine, going by how thick-skinned your face looks.” “If you’re trying to comfort me, it’s not working. And ‘quite likely’?” “My intuition is right about a tenth of the time.” “That’s all?!”