It wasn't as though she hadn't noticed him reaching out toward her, but somehow Ayumu doubted that - well, he actually would. She halfway thought maybe she was imagining it, or if not, that he would change his mind and stop before making contact. After all, it wasn't as though affectionate gestures were the norm between herself and Susumu; she couldn't remember the last time she'd touched him at all when she wasn't bandaging an injury he'd taken or something along those lines, something necessary.

It only served to further emphasize the difference between Susumu and this Makoto. The difference of what could have been, if he'd led the life she would've wanted him to. The life that - no. She couldn't even consider that.

She managed to not stiffen when he touched her hand, though there was a momentary flicker of surprise visible as she glanced down. It could've just been surprise that he'd decided not to be that angry at her anymore, so perhaps he wouldn't think anything of it.

After half a second she moved her other hand to rest on his - lightly, as though she were afraid he might take offense at the gesture. "I don't break my promises," she replied, trying to tell herself that she was addressing her absent brother, back in Kyoto, and still not quite believing it herself. "I'll be home soon."