[chikan cont.] Satoru can feel the back of a hand resting under his butt, a knuckle tracing the shape of his ass and where it meets his thigh. He doesn't look behind, just looks down at his shoes and tries not to draw attention to himself while the man behind him starts thumbing his inner thigh, squeezing and testing the soft give of fat and muscle. The train stops and people get off, the guy behind him feeling him up has gotten closer now, his breath against his neck. (2)