Dr. Mizuno and Yoritomo had expected Ryoma to be fascinated, maybe even amused by the headlines. Instead, his face drains of color, eyes shadowed with worry.
"No… I can't let this reach my mom," he mutters, voice tight with urgency.
Almost immediately, he pulls out his phone and makes an international call. The line rings longer than expected, each second stretching his nerves tighter. When it finally connects, the voice that answers isn't his mother's.
[Hi, Ryoma… how are you?]
Ryoma blinks, his face growing even paler. The warmth in the voice doesn't calm him at all.
"Kaori… why are you the one answering? Where's my mom? Did something happen to her?"
[No, no… she's fine. Your mom is cutting a customer's hair right now. She didn't feel right leaving midway, but she also didn't want to ignore your call. She knows you worry too much, so she asked me to answer.]
From the distance, faint but clear, his mother's voice comes through.
