Haruto nodded stiffly, lowering himself onto the sofa across from Renji.
The plush cushions beneath him offered no comfort, their softness a stark contrast to the tension that hung in the air.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om
Asuka followed him, sitting beside him with her hands neatly folded on her lap.
Her presence, usually calming, only amplified the weight pressing down on him now.
The silence was excruciating, thick with unspoken accusations and expectations.
Haruto could feel the unrelenting stares of the room's occupants, their gazes cutting into him like shards of glass.
It was worse than when he'd fought Daiki. At least then, there had been clarity. Fists flew, adrenaline surged, and there was no time to question or doubt.
Here, he was bound by invisible chains, the scrutiny around him more suffocating than any physical restraint.
Renji cleared his throat, his voice calm but with a sharp edge that made Haruto's shoulders tense further. "I'm Renji Furukawa, Asuka's brother."
Haruto bowed slightly, his tone polite but firm. "Ah, yes. I'm Haruto Hayase."
Before Haruto could say more, a voice interrupted, slicing through the already tense air.
"You bastard! What did you do with my wife?"
Isamu's snarl erupted like thunder, his fists clenching so tightly his knuckles turned white.
His eyes were wild with rage, his body trembling as though barely restraining himself from launching at Haruto.
"Shut up, Isamu!" Asuka's sharp voice rang out.
Her glare was unrelenting, and for the first time since entering the room, Haruto saw the shadow of the pain she carried.
"I am not your wife anymore!"
Isamu's face contorted, desperation mixing with his fury. "But, Asuka! We were married for seventeen years!" His voice cracked, rising in a crescendo of grief and anger.
"And now... our son is dead because of this bastard right here!"
Isamu lunged at him, but Haruto was quicker. He intercepted the clumsy strike, twisting Isamu's arm behind his back.
The older man cried out in pain, his confidence crumbling as Haruto's grip tightened.
"Calm down, Hayase!" Renji commanded, his voice sharp and authoritative.
"Let's settle this with words, not fists!"
Haruto froze, his fiery gaze shifting to Renji. For a moment, their eyes locked, and Haruto's voice was filled with quiet fury.
"You're her brother," he said, his words cutting like a blade.
"How could you stand by and let her suffer like this for years?"
The weight of his question hung heavily in the room. Haruto was a brother too and he had already seen his sister's life spiral into hell in their first life.
While in this life, he would do anything for that pain to never reach Haruka anymore even if he risked his life.
But how come the man that looked like he has everything in this world on his palm couldn't help his sister at all?
Renji flinched, Haruto's words striking a nerve. For a moment, guilt flickered across his composed expression, but he quickly masked it with indifference.
"Don't judge me too harshly," Renji said quietly, brushing invisible dust from his suit.
His voice lacked conviction, and the faint tremor in his hand betrayed his unease. "I have my reasons."
"Reasons?" Haruto spat, his voice thick with disdain. "What kind of reason could justify abandoning your sister to this hell?"
Renji didn't respond immediately. The silence that followed was heavy, laden with unspoken truths and regrets. Finally, he straightened his posture and diverted the conversation.
"We're here for something important," he said evenly, his tone regaining its measured calm. "Let's hear what my sister has to say."
The tension in the room didn't dissipate, but the focus shifted.
Haruto glanced at Asuka just as she reached over, her slender fingers curling around his hand.
Her grip was firm, trembling slightly, as if she were drawing strength from him to finally speak the words she had buried for so long.
Her voice, steady and resolute, broke the silence. "Brother," she said, her eyes meeting Renji's with unwavering determination.
"Let me divorce Isamu and be with Haruto."
Haruto's breath caught, and his chest swelled with pride. In that moment, he saw Asuka's true self—not the playful, teasing mask she often wore, but the woman who had endured so much and was finally standing tall.
A small, genuine smile curved his lips as he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. This was the Asuka he admired, and he couldn't be prouder.