Haruto's voice echoed against the walls of the room. He had shouted so loudly that, for a moment, everyone's breath caught. It was as if time itself had frozen for a second.
"MITSUNI, WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING?!"
Everyone in the room flinched and turned toward him. The heavy, silent atmosphere from before shattered instantly. Haruto's voice carried not only anger, but also the fear and helplessness that had been building up inside him.
Mitsuni lifted her head. For a brief moment, her eyes trembled. She was clearly angry… but despite that, she said nothing. She just looked at Haruto.
Haruto was out of breath, but he didn't stop.
"SO WHAT—WE'RE JUST GOING TO DO THE RITUAL AND RISK RUINING YUKI'S LIFE?! IS THAT WHAT YOU MEAN?!"
His words were sharp and merciless.
"THEN FINE! LET'S START THE RITUAL! ISN'T THIS OUR FAULT ANYWAY?! EVER SINCE WE BROKE HIM… WE'VE BEEN BUSY WITH STUPID THINGS—HEADQUARTERS ATTACKS, 'FUN,' 'RELAXATION'… ALL THAT USELESS STUFF!"
His voice cracked.
"BUT WE DIDN'T SEE HIM! WE DIDN'T TRY TO UNDERSTAND HIM PROPERLY!"
The last sentence was almost a whisper, but it felt heavier than his earlier shouting.
He took a step back. His knees were trembling. His hands were clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms.
"…we didn't take care of him…"
This time, his voice was barely audible.
No one in the room spoke.
Tears began to stream down Haruto's face. But he didn't lift his head. He didn't have the courage to look Lady Akira in the eyes. The disrespect, the shouting… it all came crashing down on him now.
Just then—
Lady Akira suddenly moved.
In an instant, she came to Haruto's side and pulled him close.
Before he could understand what was happening, Akira had embraced him.
"Don't worry…" she said, her voice calm yet firm.
"…we'll find a way to save Yuki without resorting to the ritual."
Haruto's eyes widened. He was stunned. He hadn't expected something like this.
Akira's voice wasn't harsh.
But it carried an unshakable sense of certainty.