Pretending is always easier

You were right about me, about the acting.

I'm always performing in some way. My desire to help people… it's just ego. Hypocrisy. I just like how it makes me feel.

All my life, I'd jumped from one thing to another, chasing whatever idea caught my attention, never finding something that truly fulfilled me. That changed when I realized the sense of accomplishment aiding others gave me. But my hypocrisy was deep. Whenever it demanded real effort—actual commitment—I'd leave without a second thought, abandoning both my promises and the people who trusted me.

That's the nature of my false saint's mask. Blake was the first to see through it.

And you, Atsun, were the second.

Did you know I came this close to disappearing forever after that small scare when you accused me of being a spy?

Over the last two months, I almost gave up countless times. Yet Blake's words kept returning to me, over and over again. Deep down, I knew it was right—ignoring its advice would only lead me to regret. That's why I've been pushing myself lately, despite stumbling, making mistakes and slipping back into old habits.

A stubborn part of me wants to keep trying—to build the strength to face difficulty without running away.

And also… to do something that truly matters, something that actually helps.

Even if, in the end, it's only for my own satisfaction.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The room falls silent when Avery finishes speaking. Outside, the wind rattles the doors, and the creeping darkness is held at bay only by the lantern on the table between them.

Avery takes a deep breath.

"I don't regret challenging Tomoe. And I do believe Kairi is wrong and must be stopped, even though I want to understand his motives." She leans forward. "Don't you think that grasping how the Munakata wronged him could help us address the root problems in your family, and maybe prevent more tragedies?"

"There's no problem to fix. The way we do things has worked for centuries. What happened to Kairi was ultimately his fault, and no one else's."

Her eyes narrow, and her lips press into a tight line.

A sharp snap cuts through the silence.

Did she just click her tongue?

"Oh, right. Your ancient, flawless clan has never been wrong since the dawn of time," Avery says, her voice carrying a repulsive bite. It makes Atsunori flinch—tempted to slap her. "Let us all forbid our children from leaving home till they grow hair in their privates."

"Avery, enough." Atsunori forces his tone steady, though his patience thins.

"Yeah, I'm done being nice and avoiding conflict like the plague. You won't listen? Fine. Then we do this another way." She rises, planting a foot on the table. "You're not blind, you'd just rather pretend nothing's broken than admit you're afraid to fix it, because pretending is always easier than—"

"Shut up!" he snaps. "Stop talking like you know anything about me, or my family"

"You're right, my knowledge of you barely scratches the surface. But it's easy enough to spot a coward who hides from his own troubles. Takes one to know another."

"Last warning. Don't push me to respond with force."

She meets his gaze without flinching. Firm. Unshaken.

Slowly, Avery drags her foot down with deliberate intent. She sits, but her eyes stay locked on Atsunori.

"I like it here, you know?" Her voice softens, more humble—and somewhat hurt. "The people are kind, the estate is breathtaking, and I don't think I've ever had more fun wandering a city than I have in Kurozaka."

Her expression shifts, gentler now. "So believe me when I say I want to help." Atsunori clenches his fists. "Yeah, it's pretentious. I'm just a naive outsider who doesn't see the full picture."

Avery bows lightly. "And that's why things can only succeed with your support. On my own, I wouldn't even know where to start. My clumsy attempts would be like trying to replace a rusty part and ending up jamming the whole machine."

"So please, Atsun." Her blue eyes glimmer with a hint of green. "Let's work together to make this a better place. Not just for ourselves, but for the children of the next generation, too."

He can't find it in himself to be angry.

But agreeing would mean—

"If you agree to help me," she continues, "I'll stop resisting Tomoe. I'll listen. I'll really, really try to understand your family, because I know trying to help without making an earnest effort to understand what's going on will just be… like chasing my own reflection."

"You don't know what you're saying," Atsunori mutters. "The Mistress isn't that soft. You can't obey her half of the time and work with me the other. If you serve her, she will crush and reshape you from the ground up. In less than a year, you'll be a completely different person, and you'll no longer have the willpower to change anything about the Munakata."

"That risk's fine. If my will crumbles under hers, it just means I was never strong enough to make real change anyway. So… do we have a deal?"

He doesn't answer.

Silence falls like a weight. Even the wind outside seems to hold its breath.

What am I supposed to say? What even is the right choice?

"Yeah, better not rush it," she says, leaning back. "We still have time. How about we take a break tomorrow and resume the serious talk the day after?"

"No, I'm too busy, there's no room in my schedule to…" He stops, realizing his words are nothing more than—

"Excuses. I've seen myself what your work consists of these days. You have nothing but time, so don't waste it sulking and bored out of your mind in pointless patrols."

"Kairi could attack any moment."

"Which is why we won't leave the estate. But you also need to be rested and ready if he does show up, don't you agree?"

"I—"

"So bye bye. See ya tomorrow."

"Avery, wait." The girl flies outside before he can protest.

She's going to get soaked under the rain.

Good thing fools don't catch colds.

…

Now alone, her proposal burns quietly on his mind.

Avery's willing to stay… but…

She wants to change the family?

There's no way she can succeed.