[Yoshio peers up at him from the bed, then sits up too, still curled into a ball inside his blanket, his legs pulled up to his chest. He's not really sure how to begin, so he just leans forward enough that he can rest his chin on his knees, rubbing a bit of his blanket in between thumb and index finger.]

... I guess so.

[How does he even begin?]

It bothers me that... those memories -- [are they memories, truly? He's still not sure] -- you're not in them at all. I don't know who Sakuma Jirou is. I know he plays soccer. That's it.

[They haven't discussed those visions at all. But Mako must be having them too. They seem to go hand in hand with those headaches and that app.]

I don't even know what kind of person he is.