Haruto narrowed his eyes, ignoring Daiki's amusement as he climbed the stairs, leaving Ren's battered body behind in a pool of his own blood.
At the top, he was greeted by Ayaka, who handed him a white towel—smiling.
That caught him off guard.
He had expected her to be terrified, to shrink away from him after witnessing the way he had brutalized Ren with a bat.
His face and clothes were still soaked in blood, the metallic scent thick in the air.
But she wasn't afraid.
In fact, there was a strange gleam in her eyes—something unfamiliar.
Something unsettling.
She was looking at him like… like he was someone else.
Like she was gazing at a hero. An idol.
'Is she just relieved?' he wondered as he took the towel. 'Happy that Ren will never lay a hand on her again?'
That made sense. It has to be that.
And yet—deep down, something told him otherwise.