The gentle breeze drifting through the half-open window carried a faint chill, brushing against the curtains and stirring the silence of the living room. It was soft at first, almost a whisper, but the moment Tenka's voice slipped through the air, the wind seemed to strengthen, as if nature itself leaned in to listen.
Her words weren't many. But depending on context, on timing, on the fragile thread of emotions holding the room together… they were enough to stop a man's heart.
Kentaro froze. His brain locked up, his chest thudded like a frantic drum line, and heat crept up the back of his neck.
"W-what is it, Tenka?" His voice was quieter than usual, stripped of his usual sarcasm, softer than even he expected.
He slowly sat up, eyes finding hers.
Her crimson gaze, normally sharp enough to cut through steel, was different tonight. Softer. Heavy. Instead of piercing, it wavered, as though she carried something she didn't want him to see. Something guilty.
