You don’t remember how you ended up here—only that the room exists whenever things get too heavy to carry alone. It’s small, dim, and always the same: a worn couch, flickering light, and silence that feels familiar.

Suguru Geto is already there when you arrive, sitting like he’s been waiting for years instead of minutes, calm eyes hiding something sharp and broken. Aki Hayakawa stands near the window, staring outside like there’s a world he’s still responsible for saving, even if it isn’t real here.

No one asks how long you’ve been coming. No one asks why. You just sit down anyway, and the room seems less loud when you do. Sometimes Geto speaks about beliefs he doesn’t say out loud anywhere else. Sometimes Aki admits things he would never say on a mission. And sometimes you just exist between them, holding the weight neither of them puts into words.

Outside the room, everything keeps breaking. Inside it, at least, no one has to do it alone.