Fuka-Eri kept her gentle grip on Tengo’s hand until the train arrived in Kunitachi Station, near the end of the line. Her hand was unexpectedly hard and smooth, neither hot nor cold. It was maybe half the size of Tengo’s hand. “Don’t be afraid. It’s not just another Sunday,” she said, as if stating a well-known fact. Tengo thought this might have been the first time he heard her speak two sentences at once.
