No one spoke during the entire journey. Kenji sat beside her, holding her hand. His palm was damp and cold.
In the front row, Abe kept checking his phone. The glow from the screen illuminated his face, making the scar look even more sinister.
Yui closed her eyes. In her mind, all she could see was her father's perpetually stern face.
Those eyes of his were as sharp as knives. When she was very young, she had personally witnessed him after a "negotiation," his hands covered in blood. No matter how many times he washed them, the thick metallic smell of blood lingered.
There was also the time when, as a child, she had accidentally entered the hidden room. The crimson marks on the walls, the special tools—every single one of them still swirled in her memory…
Yui suddenly shivered and gripped Kenji's hand even tighter.
