[That answer is something along the lines of what she expected, by what he's said to her before- but at the same time, it's... jarring. Even the way he says that, while shrugging off everything that happens to himself, is strange nostalgic.
Saionji hates being homesick for a world she'll never return to. Even if she was still alive (is she still alive?), there's no chance of her ever seeing him again. The coat is warm, and for better or for worse, she feels the discomfort wash away in exchange for wistfulness.
Dwelling in the past? That's not like you, Saionji, and yet, it fits you perfectly well.]
You... sound just like him.
[She doesn't move yet, and the redness of her face might just be increasing now. Is that a good thing, or...?]
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Saionji hates being homesick for a world she'll never return to. Even if she was still alive (is she still alive?), there's no chance of her ever seeing him again. The coat is warm, and for better or for worse, she feels the discomfort wash away in exchange for wistfulness.
Dwelling in the past? That's not like you, Saionji, and yet, it fits you perfectly well.]
You... sound just like him.
[She doesn't move yet, and the redness of her face might just be increasing now. Is that a good thing, or...?]