The heavy oak door of the Student Council room groaned on its hinges as Seijirou stepped inside.
His brow rose noticing that the atmosphere was stifling, the air thick with the salt-tang of tears and the oppressive, static hum of lingering spiritual residue.
Rindou sat at the mahogany desk, her posture rigid and her expression unreadable, while Tamaki sat huddled on the leather sofa, her small frame wracked with rhythmic, silent sobs.
Seijirou stared at them and let out a long, heavy sigh, the sound echoing in the high-ceilinged room.
He adjusted the strap of his bag, and found a place to sit down as he leaned back.
"So? Shall we go?" he asked, his voice calm.
