Even after they step out of the building, with Nakahara still calling after him, Kenta keeps walking without once looking back.
The old man's expression tightens, caught somewhere between irritation at being ignored, concern, and something closer to sympathy he doesn't quite show.
He quickens his pace, trying to close the gap, his shorter stride forcing him into a half-run just to keep up.
"Hey, listen," he calls out, voice rising just enough to cut through the noise. "I'm not forcing you to go see them. I was the one who told you to take a week to recover. But you came here… and now you're leaving like this. That's what bothers me."
Kenta doesn't answer. He doesn't slow down either. And the difference in their steps makes it worse. Every time Nakahara gets close, Kenta's longer stride pulls him away again, until the old man is practically chasing him, like a toddler trying to catch up to his dad.
"Kenta… if you're angry at me, at least say it."
