The summer day was too beautiful to be dulled by the conversation that he was having.

With a few simple words, his uniform suddenly felt stuffy. Too tight. The summer air was too warm.

Satoru's lips part in protest. He can't be the one to experience grief alone. Could he? But he had heard correctly: when death comes, Satoru should be the one to live.

Satoru sips his soda and chooses not to argue. It's a silent way saying "I love you".

His love is so great that he will bear grief.