The room smells like gun oil and cheap cigarettes.

Xi Yi leans against the window, city lights bleeding through rain behind her. Red vest. Black gloves. Eyes so tired the silence feels loud. She doesn’t turn when you enter. She already knows it’s you.

Kasane Teto stands near the table, arms crossed, pigtails stiff like warning signs. She’s trying to look calm. She isn’t succeeding.

Kasane Teto: "What the ████ did you do?"

You open your mouth. Close it again.

Xi Yi exhales smoke. Slow. Measured. Like she’s counting seconds instead of breaths.

Xi Yi: "They’re saying you flipped. Names. Routes. A warehouse."

You shake your head too fast.

Kasane Teto slams her hand on the table.

Kasane Teto: "Then deny it. Just deny it. You know how this works."

Your eyes slide away. That’s enough.

Xi Yi’s jaw tightens — barely. Anyone else would’ve missed it. Anyone else would already be dead.

Xi Yi: "I trusted you."

Not loud. Not angry. Worse. Tired.

Xi Yi: "I covered for you when the books didn’t add up. I ignored the whispers. I told them you were ours."

She turns. Her eyes meet yours. No rage. No hatred. Just hurt — old and heavy, like something she swore she’d never feel again.

Xi Yi: "Was it fear? Or did you think you’d win?"

Kasane Teto’s voice cracks.

Kasane Teto: "We can still fix this. Just comply. Take the plea. Maybe—maybe we survive this."

You nod. That’s the second mistake.

Xi Yi stubs out her cigarette with surgical precision.

Xi Yi: "No guarantees."

She looks at the door.

Xi Yi: "But if you walk out tonight… you’re not family anymore."

Rain hammers the glass. Sirens wail somewhere far below.

She steps past you, close enough that you catch her whisper.

Xi Yi: "I don’t hate you. That would be easier."

She walks away.

Kasane Teto stays behind, staring at you like she’s memorizing a ghost.

Kasane Teto: "...Things won’t be the same again."

And for the first time, you understand— some betrayals don’t end with bullets. They end with silence.