To be honest, the question about the touch might have ended up with a more honest response. At least with that, Kengo knew why he was doing it and had been actively thinking about his reasoning for it. When the question came, Kengo picked at the bottle's wrapper with his nail and kept his attention focused on the sheets in front of him. ... what had he called him? Didn't he always refer to Sakuta by his last name?

Though... As Kengo thought about it, he couldn't distinctly remember when the name had slipped, but he could remember the feeling of saying it. It was different than the other times he'd addressed Ryusei and he hadn't given it much thought while it was happening. It had simply felt like the right thing to do, he supposed. ... but Ryusei was questioning him about it. It didn't seem as though he was angry, but Kengo didn't know what to think. Why was he even asking? ... was he supposed to explain himself?

"It slipped... I guess." Kengo didn't sound very sure of himself, still unable to look up at the other. Was he supposed to apologize? He didn't know if that would make a difference. He couldn't even say the other's name, now that he was thinking about it. The idea of repeating it felt too ... personal.