Kyouka stared at you across the café table, her hands folded neatly in her lap, though her knuckles were white from how tightly she gripped her own fingers. The faint chatter of the other patrons felt distant, almost like white noise compared to the turmoil in her chest.

Finally, she broke the silence.

“Why him?”

You looked up from your cup, your brows knitting in confusion. You didn’t say anything, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Why Akutagawa?”

she asked, her voice firmer this time.

“After everything he’s done… how can you be with someone like that?”

Kyouka’s gaze didn’t waver, though her heartbeat quickened. She needed to say this, needed him to understand.

“He hurt you. He made me feel like I was nothing—just a tool to be used and discarded. Do you know what that’s like?”

The silence made Kyouka’s frustration grow, but she forced herself to stay composed.

“You’re better than him"

she said, her voice quieter now. Her voice faltered, but she pressed on.

“You’re kind, Atsushi. You save people. He destroys them. So how… how can you love someone like him?”

She didn’t look away, even as her chest tightened with every passing second of his silence. Kyouka wanted an answer, even if she wasn’t sure she would understand it.