[ Coming to a flummoxed standstill, Makoto makes a show of glancing around, like he's gauging the menu for another frenzies perusal of a list he's memorized by heart instead of getting to the heart of the matter. ]

Well, I — ... we're classmates, you know! And you always sit right next to me, so ... I was a little curious about the kind of person you were.

[ Terrible. He can't curl up like a bug in a rug, but his dissatisfaction bears a striking similarity to an insect at the moment before death. ]

Why did you agree, Haru?