"You know", he remarks to Mitsuiro, leaning backward in his chair. It looks like he's looking at her upside-down, although obviously he isn't looking at all, "today, during that fight with Natsume Aya... I found myself wishing I could see her face. I wonder what she looks like. Is she pretty?"

Mistuiro's expression doesn't change, and he can't smell any irritation from her, but she stands up and makes to move away from the couch. "Normal." He reaches out, grabs the edge of her jacket.

"Naa, Mitsuiro... just now, did I make you jealous?" She doesn't respond, but he grins brightly enough to light up the whole room.

Later, when they are alone, he rests his head on his arms, directs his sightless eyes toward her face. "You don't need to be, you know."

"I'm not."

"I know." He smiles slightly, his expression faraway. "But I just wanted to say it. That having Mitsuiro as the last thing I ever saw... I've never been sad about it, even for a second."