[The silence on Fubuki's end is rather long and pointed. He stares quietly at his hand wondering how she's able to glean any of that from what's there and, more importantly, which of the lines there had betrayed him so terribly.

Kouyuki had more physical problems than he ever had himself but, and this thought is a little frightening, he doesn't know if their hands are different. He'd never paid much attention to the patterns on his palms. Was there a difference? Was that why he had a family and Fubuki didn't?

The longest and straightest was the one near the top...but how that was an accurate indicator of his abandonment issues, he couldn't really say. So he didn't. He focused on something else instead. Forcing humor into his voice, and a soft laugh he didn't quite feel.]

Hmm...but there's a contradiction in that reading. How could I see a lot and not know how to make people like me more? Besides...it's easy to make people like you.

[Easy enough that he did it all the time. Not that it helped at all with those inner feelings.

Haa...this wasn't a very fun game. He wishes he could take his photo back now.]