Kusuo slammed open the door before the other could knock, pulling him inside and upstairs. 'What are you doing here?'

"I said I would come back every time I wanted to do something with Kokomi, and here I am!" He defended, suddenly feeling like he was up on trial.

Kusuo stared at the man before giving in, putting his book away. 'Tell me, what did you feel like 'doing' to her? What made you stop?'

"Well, I thought about what you said about her starting to hate me. I don't want that . . . I was just going to check what she was doing, but that usually spirals into me doing something she yells at me for." He confessed, twiddling his thumbs with a small frown.

Kusuo's glare softened as he listened to the others thoughts, finding nothing but regret and guilt as he realized what everyone had been saying was true. 'Good grief, fine. What's your favorite color?'

Makoto looked up with a confused face. "Blue like Kokomi's hair, why?"

Kusuo frowned, head tilting. This was going to be harder than he thought. 'If it's thoughts about Teruhashi that lead you to think about her, I was thinking to distract you with something else. It seems like she's all you can think about, though.'

Makoto nodded. "That makes sense. Well, if nothing about me would work, what about you? What's your favorite color?"

Kusuo blinked. Even without the ring, he didn't see that coming. He scanned Makoto's thoughts, only to find a genuine desire to know more about him. With an imperceptible upward curve of his mouth, he leaned forward to answer. "Stormy blue."

((all in favor of a time skip say aye? aye))