"Showa sixty-three," Miku answered immediately. "I mean, 1988," she looked at him in awe. So many people from the future, where she would likely be an old lady, unless there was some kind of miracle and she ran away with Ritsuka and Alfons to somewhere safe.

"But Sagara-san... I mean it when I say it was a little weird. He just offered himself up a few days ago." Miku touched the tines of her plastic fork to her lower lip, thinking. "I don't regret agreeing, though. He's a good person." A lot of people here were. She was lucky, really, that he hadn't done much more than embarrass the two of them. There were evil people here too, and sometimes Miku knew she forgot that. She had hope for everyone, after all. More than enough to share, even enough hope to fill thirty Lusts.