Yuya doesn't look up at first, or offer much of a verbal response. He's internally warring with himself. It's so much easier to keep that part of him locked up, like it didn't exist, around his friends when there weren't pieces of it available to them. Stories, or Reira, or anything like that. Then he doesn't have to admit to anything, because there's nothing there to admit to.

Somehow, it doesn't feel as easy every time he's confronted with it.

When he does look up at her it's with a slightly crooked, hesitant grin. "I thought you didn't care about reading stories like that."

Okay, maybe he could be approaching this a little better.