Kane sits there in silence — his hands clenched, trembling faintly.
A tear slips down his cheek, surprising even him. He wipes it quickly, but more follow, silent and steady.
Diana looks at him, her voice low and heavy.
"Emma remembers them every day, Kane. Every face, every scream, every order she was forced to follow. She dreams about them at night. She wakes up shaking, but she hides it. She always hides it."
Kane's eyes widen slightly.
"So… she suffers?"
Diana nods slowly.
"More than any of us could imagine."
There's a pause — just the faint sound of rain tapping the hideout window.
Kane lowers his head, his fists pressing against his knees.
"Then why… why doesn't she ever cry about it? Why does she look so calm?"
Diana doesn't answer. She just looks away — eyes dim, lips pressed tightly together.
The silence stretches.
Finally, she whispers, almost too quiet to hear:
"…Because she already cried it all out a long time ago."
The room grows colder.
Kane stares at the ground — realizing that behind Emma's emotionless eyes… there's a pain so deep, tears can't reach it anymore.
Mostang leaned back against the cracked wall, a cigarette glowing faintly between his fingers.
The smoke curled up lazily toward the ceiling as he exhaled, eyes half-closed — but his mind sharp.
He'd been listening the whole time.
"So that's her story, huh…"
His voice was low, rough — the kind that carried both respect and pity. He looked at the ground, flicked the ash off his cigarette, and sighed.
"Makes sense now. Why she never flinches, even when the world's burnin' around her."
Diana turned her head slightly toward him. "You were listening?"
Mostang gave a tired smirk. "Hard not to. You talk loud when you're sad."
He took another drag, letting the smoke linger in his lungs before breathing it out slow.
"Emma's the type that don't show her wounds. But you can see 'em — if you know where to look."
Kane looked at him quietly, eyes heavy.
Mostang continued, flicking the cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot.
"She ain't heartless. She's just… someone who forgot what it's like to be human."
Silence fell again.
The faint hiss of the cigarette dying out was the only sound.
Diana whispered, almost to herself:
"No… she didn't forget. She just doesn't believe she deserves to be one."
Farther down the hallway, hidden just enough to avoid being seen, Valeria leaned against the wall. Her arms were crossed, eyes narrowing as she listened to the hushed conversation between Diana, Kane, and Mostang.
Her jaw tightened slightly. She could feel the weight of their words pressing in — the respect, the pity, the understanding they had for Emma.
Valeria's gaze drifted upward, toward the rooftop where Emma stood alone. Even from here, the outline of Emma's figure was striking, almost unreal in the pale morning light.
She exhaled softly, almost a whisper herself:
"She carries all of that… and still walks alone."
Valeria's fingers brushed her own pocket absentmindedly, remembering the countless times Emma had protected her, guided her, even when she herself had been vulnerable.
"No one deserves to see her like this… not even her," she muttered.
She stayed there, listening, watching, keeping her presence quiet. Because some truths weren't meant to be disturbed — only witnessed.
----
Emma stood on the rooftop, the wind brushing gently against her hair as the city stretched endlessly beneath her.
Her hands were buried deep in her pockets, the dim light of dawn tracing a faint outline around her figure.
The streets below were quiet — almost peaceful — but her mind wasn't.
She tilted her head up, eyes fixed on the clouds shifting across the pale morning sky.
Her expression was calm, but her thoughts were loud.
"Maybe peace isn't for people like me."
The breeze picked up, carrying the faint sound of traffic from afar.
She didn't know that inside, Kane, Diana, and Mostang were talking about her — about the pain she buried so deep.
Her lips parted slightly, and she whispered to herself, almost without realizing:
"I wonder if they'd still stay… if they knew everything I've done."
Her reflection shimmered faintly in a puddle near her feet — a ghost of the person she used to be.
She closed her eyes for a moment.
The sky remained bright. But inside Emma… it was still raining.
Chapter End