Shiori's shield twitches instinctively at Tsugiharu's loud steps--if the possibly-unreal person wants to make himself known, it must be a trap--but grabbing onto the fleeting edges of his random burst of clarity, Shiori relaxes his arm and turns to greet the newcomers with a simple politicians smile--polite, noncommittal, betraying nothing. Then Keiji begins to speak.

By the time the enormous boy poses, Shiori is hiding behind his shield, his head shaking constantly back and forth. His shaking stops abruptly with the shift in tone, and he peeks over the rim of his shield. "The mask is your face; is underneath the mask-face a face-mask, or a face-face, or a mask-mask?" he asks, glancing once at Keiji's face before looking everywhere else. "I am awake. I am awake, right? 'Free time' didn't put me to sleep? I know when I'm sleeping, or I don't, or I should, but mask-face-masks are... I must be awake." He nods, jerkily, backing towards the nearest corner and crouching behind his shield. "Right?"