Kairi didn't move.
His eyes remained fixed on the laptop screen.
The folder was still there.
Untouched.
Behind him—
Akane stood still.
Silent.
Watching.
"…Archive."
The word echoed in his mind.
Heavy.
Distorted.
Kairi stepped forward.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
As if moving any faster—
would shatter something.
His fingers rested on the trackpad.
Paused.
A beat.
Then—
he clicked.
The folder opened.
Dozens of files.
Neatly organized.
Not messy.
Not random.
That was Akane's way.
Kairi scrolled down.
Reports.
Notes.
Logs.
Fragments of recorded conversations.
Each file—
a piece of something unfinished.
He opened one.
"…Subject: Kairi."
His fingers froze.
"…wrongfully accused…"
"…evidence tampered…"
"…case reconstruction…"
"…third-party involvement detected…"
The lines passed through his eyes.
Blurring.
Then sharpening again.
Kairi didn't blink.
He opened another file.
Then another.
Piece by piece—
everything became clearer.
Akane had never given up.
Even after everything ended—
she kept going.
Kept searching.
Kept digging.
Kept proving—
that he was innocent.
"…why…"
His voice was barely there.
Almost nonexistent.
Kairi scrolled down.
One final file.
Different from the rest.
Short.
Direct.
No explanation.
Just a name.
Sato
The air seemed to freeze.
Kairi clicked.
The file opened instantly.
"…primary suspect…"
"…funding source…"
"…illegal human experimentation…"
"…memory-related technology…"
His gaze stopped.
On one line.
"…confirmed subject manipulation…"
His hand tightened.
"…it was you."
Not a guess.
Not a suspicion.
A conclusion.
Everything fit together.
Too clean.
Too precise.
Akane had reached the truth.
She just—
didn't make it in time.
Kairi leaned back.
His eyes empty.
"…you kept going…"
he murmured.
"…even after I gave up."
Behind him—
Akane didn't respond.
Kairi exhaled softly.
"…and me…"
The sentence stopped.
Didn't need finishing.
Silence stretched.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
Then—
Kairi moved.
Not fast.
But certain.
He reached for his phone.
The screen lit up.
Reflecting his face.
Tired.
Hollow.
But—
somewhere beneath it—
something was changing.
Kairi looked again.
At the name.
Sato
"…if you're the cause…"
His finger paused.
"…then you're still alive."
He began searching.
Names.
Connections.
Anything.
Information surfaced in fragments.
Companies.
Organizations.
Money trails.
All hidden.
But not gone.
Sato wasn't invisible.
Just careful.
"…good."
Kairi whispered.
His voice—
changed for the first time.
No longer despairing.
No longer empty.
Only—
cold.
Clear.
Behind him—
Akane still stood there.
Unblinking.
Kairi didn't turn around.
"…if this is real…"
he said quietly.
"…then I'll verify it."
His finger moved.
Dialing.
Uncertain.
Unconfirmed.
But close enough.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times—
Click.
The call connected.
"…Hello?"
Kairi stayed silent for a moment.
Then—
"…Sato."
A pause.
On the other end—
a slight hesitation.
Subtle.
But noticeable.
"…who is this?"
Kairi didn't answer immediately.
His grip tightened.
Then—
"…it's me. Kairi."
A beat of silence.
Then—
"…Kairi?"
The voice shifted instantly.
Lighter.
Friendlier.
"…long time no see. How have you been?"
"…I heard you've had a rough time."
"…you holding up okay?"
Each sentence—
natural.
Too natural.
Kairi let out a quiet laugh.
A very small one.
"…shut up."
Not loud.
But cold enough.
The other end went silent.
"…I know everything."
The silence stretched.
No more pretense.
No more disguise.
Then—
Sato's voice dropped.
"…so you figured it out."
No friendliness left.
Only—
cold.
"…faster than I expected."
Kairi said nothing.
Sato continued.
"…then I guess you want to know—"
A pause.
"…about your sister's death."
The air grew heavy.
"…if you want the truth—"
His voice lowered.
Clear.
"…come to Warehouse No. 7, Kurogane abandoned industrial district."
"…midnight. Tomorrow."
A pause.
"…don't be late."
Click.
The call ended.
No warning.
No hesitation.
Kairi lowered the phone.
The screen dimmed.
Reflecting his face.
No longer empty.
Only—
cold.
Behind him—
Akane still stood there.
Unmoving.
Silent.
But for a very brief moment—
her expression shifted.
As if—
something didn't belong to her.
Then—
it returned to normal.
She kept watching.
Without blinking.