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"Oh, he will, he will," Miko waved her hand dismissively. "He'll say, 'Smile, it annoys everyone.' He sits there, not a care in the world, and thinks it applies to everyone. Imagine this: your five-year-old child is walking alone down the street, and a dog without a leash or muzzle runs up to him, scaring him so much that he climbs a tree and cries. The owner comes, picks up his dog, and walks away leisurely. You, of course, will later tell your child, 'It's okay, it didn't bite you, everything is fine. Smile!' The sun is shining, the water is running from the tap – what more could you want? And from the perspective of an outside observer, that might be true, but all your sweet talk won't help the child until he processes his trauma. 'Look, another child didn't cry, so you shouldn't cry either' – yes, that's a wonderful approach, but that other child is a different child, and your specific child is your child. Do you understand what I'm saying? And then, a year later, your child has calmed down, stopped crying, and suddenly you say to him, 'Remember when that dog almost tore your belly apart? Remember how you cried?'" She pauses. "Of course, that was silly. Come on, stop pouting!" And the child blinks and remembers the whole scene in detail again. But maybe he's not feeling cheerful today because a teacher unfairly yelled at him at school, and now you're adding this old 'sin' on top of it. So, what was I getting at?" Ayano sighs. "Oh, it doesn't matter anymore. We're almost there."