[ The fact that she's even framing it as a 'favor' feels unusual. No haughty talk about how it's actually the smarter thing to do, no browbeating about how it'd be a waste of time to go back, nothing like that? Fuuta does raise an eyebrow at that, but still mulling over the (guilty, small, warm, fuzzy) feeling of the fact that she was the one who used the F-word first, he doesn't make any smart remarks.

Just finishes chewing on the big chunk of pork he'd shoved into his mouth, swallows, licks the sauce off his lips, then responds mildly: ]

I don't mind. As long as your room has the extra amenities I can use. I didn't bring a toothbrush or anything, so I'd have to run to the convenience store otherwise.

[ But this room's fresh and new, so he assumes she has everything in stock. A sleepover it is. ]

I stay up kinda late, though. Just so you know.