The last train, in the very back car. Minato Hiiragi rests his head against the rain-slicked window, sliding out a single earbud as the neon lights of Shinjuku streak by outside. "...You answered fast." The faintest trace of an ease softens his lips. "Nothing's wrong. Just twelve minutes until my stop. I only wanted to fill those twelve minutes with your voice. ...Don't hang up."