(Still in Kant's Flashback)
The house was silent again—Mayor Ronald had returned to his study, the door shut like a seal between them and his ever-unyielding rules. Marin lay curled on the edge of her bed, her face pressed into the soft pillow, cheeks still damp from the tears she had tried not to shed.
A quiet knock sounded on her door before it opened gently. Kant stepped inside without saying a word, closing it behind him with a soft click. He looked at her for a moment—her back to him, her shoulders trembling slightly beneath her sweater—and then crossed the room in silence.
He sat beside her, the bed dipping beneath his weight. She turned and slowly shifted closer, resting her head against his shoulder like she used to when she was much younger and couldn't sleep after a storm.
Her voice came out in a whisper, hoarse and thick.
"I didn't know he would be back today."
"Me too," Kant said softly, glancing down at her hair as it brushed against his pajamas. He didn't press her for more. He just stayed.
Marin sniffled, voice shaky. "Why does he always have to be that way?"
Kant looked toward her desk, at the stuffed animals still neatly arranged, some folded clothes carefully ironed for her, and her sketchbook lying open. There was no answer that would make sense.
"I didn't sneak off to be rebellious," she continued, sniffing again. "I just... wanted to cheer for Chloe. That's all. She was so nervous, and I promised I'd be there."
Kant rested his hand lightly over hers. She grasped his fingers tightly.
She asked, "Why does he never ask why I do something? Why is it always about his rules?"
Kant was silent for a moment.
"I don't know, Marin."He replied.
There was a pause. She pulled back slightly and looked up at the ceiling. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her lashes clumped with tears.
"It would've been different if Mum was here... right?"
Kant's gaze fell to the floor.
Then she asked, voice quieter this time, "If she was still alive... would she have done the same thing Dad did?"
Kant turned and looked at her, eyes soft with discretion.
"What do you think?" he asked gently.
Marin took a deep breath and wiped under her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. Her lips trembled as she replied,
"I think... she would've let me go anywhere I wanted. She would've stayed up waiting for me, but she wouldn't have yelled. She'd trust me... and if I messed up, she'd still talk to me calmly."
Kant smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.
"Then if that's what you think, I think you're right."
Marin looked at him, her expression softening even as her tears welled up again. She leaned forward and rested her forehead gently against his shoulders again.
"I'm sorry," she murmured. "For lying to you about the time. Thanks for covering for me."
Kant exhaled, the kind of tired sigh that came from holding too much emotion inside for too long.
"It's okay. It was still pretty much a friendly outing to me."
Marin gave a small laugh through her tears, voice trembling.
"From now on... you're the only one I can rely on. Just you. No one else."
Kant looked down at her, his throat tight. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her gently closer.
"No problem," he said quietly.
They sat like that for a while. No more words, no more questions. Just quiet—shared warmth in the fading light of a long, exhausting day.