Mikazuki can tell he's been abrupt and that splinters the moment somewhat, but he's not used to being shown unequivocal kindness. It's not Atsushi's fault that it has a wayward tendency to sink to the pit of his stomach and burn after a while, making him restless with an energy he doesn't know how to reciprocate right away. It's better to be up and moving in that case. Really, it's always been like that.

But somewhere in between climbing to his feet and pushing in his chair, he stops.

"Don't worry," he says, seemingly unprompted. "If this is something you really want, you'll be able to do it."

No matter how taciturn he is, or maybe because he is, he can pour strength and honesty into whatever he says. However he might be feeling, he believes that. With a nod, he turns to go.

"Good luck yourself. When we're both done, we can go to the library."

And, a little quieter, more thoughtful:

"It'll be nice to see."