Psalm only moves her face from Masataku’s shoulder when forced, and even then, tries valiantly for half a minute or so to burrow back into his shirt before her energy gives out again and she’s forced to step back, looking very unhappy about it. Very much like she’s been crying, too, and like she still is, except she’s Not Crying and anyone who points the fact out that she is will probably end up the next murder victim.

She blinks, eyes bleary as she stares at him, like she’s trying to memorize his face before he goes. Like she doesn’t have approximately a dozen pictures of him, with him, by him. Like she’ll forget. And when he returns her hairpin to her, her face contorts into anger, but the sort of angry you get when you’re so sad you don’t know what other emotion to feel.

“You- I dont want this back! Someone else would have killed for this, Masataku! I would have, probably, because like I said, Hibiki has three other sisters! He has parents! Ryoma has a sister, Iyona had her sister and her mom, you have Mari, and I have- I have...!”

She shakes her head in frustration.

“This just...it sucks, and I don’t want my hairpin back, I want you back.”

Whenever she’s done with her tirade, she looks over at her other closest friend here, someone she hadn’t claimed to know well but who she’d thought she’d understood. When she looks at Miunhosei, for the briefest of moments, there’s total lucidity and sharpness in her eyes, and although she’s silent as she stares him down the expression on her face speaks volumes.

Ah. So that’s the kind of person you are.

From where she stands at Masataku’s podium, she gains a lot of respect for Izana. She doesn’t say anything, though, not to her, and not to Shiba, although she does pull out her tablet to message them privately. The world didn’t need to know what she wanted to say. It didn’t have any place in their friendship. When finished with that, she just...stands there, knowing Masataku won’t let her get close again, but grabs his shoulder all the same.