Surprise rippled through the group as everyone turned toward the person who had suddenly cut into the conversation.
Mary lashed out at Ryuga, the one who had spoken so quietly, her voice trembling with raw fury.
"What? Who do you think you are? We just met today—what could you possibly know about us? How could someone like you understand my pain?!"
"Ryuga lost his father five years ago," Yugo interjected, hoping to both calm Mary and provide some context for his friend’s words. "He knows what it’s like to lose family. Believe me, he understands that pain better than anyone."
"What...?"
Mary fell silent, her mouth hanging open in shock. Ryuga took the opportunity to speak for himself.
"...I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be overstepping, especially since we’ve only just met. But hearing your story... it reminded me of the time I spent with my mother back in my homeland."
"Your mother?"
"Yes. She raised my sister and me alone after my father passed. Though the Castle Lord provided us with some support, my sister was diagnosed with a terrible illness, and the treatment was expensive. My mother worked herself to the bone to provide for us, but when that wasn't enough, she began selling my father’s personal belongings. Every time she let go of something filled with memories of him, she looked so pained. I couldn't stand seeing her like that, so I told her I would sell this katana."
Ryuga’s gaze drifted down to the blade at his waist, his beloved Ryukoga.
The room was silent as they listened to him recount the conversation with his mother.
"This blade would have fetched a high price. It was a gift from my father, but it wasn't a memento of his own use. I told her I would rather sell the sword than watch her discard the things that connected her to him. My mother gave me two answers that day."
"What did she say?"
"First, she told me she wasn't letting go of his things just to survive. She explained that it was a necessary part of finding closure for her own heart."
"Closure? By getting rid of everything he left behind?"
"Exactly. Humans are creatures bound by the past. It’s easy for our hearts to become imprisoned by the sorrow of loss. But we can’t stay trapped there forever. My father wouldn't have wanted her to be so paralyzed by grief that she couldn't live. By saying goodbye to those physical memories, she was letting go of the agony of his death."
If you allow yourself to be held captive by grief, you can never move forward. The dead surely don't wish for those they left behind to be consumed by their passing.
Wounds of the heart heal slowly, but if you keep picking at the scab, the pain will never fade. Ryuga’s mother had been trying to find peace, letting the memories go so that she wouldn't have to keep touching that raw, unhealed wound of the past.
"...And the second thing she told me," Ryuga continued, "was that there are some parts of the past you must never discard. No matter how much it hurts, you have to hold on to the things that truly matter deep inside. She said that for me to give up this katana—the proof of my vow to my father—just because I didn't want to see her suffer was something I must never do."
Ryuga looked down and let out a soft, weary breath.
His expression was a complex mixture of a sad smile and grim determination as he turned his gaze back to Mary.
"You said your mother was killed right in front of you. I suspect your father is getting rid of things that remind you of her because he doesn't want you to have to relive that moment every time you see them."
"That's... but I...!"
"If you don't want him to do that, then you need to tell him. I know you probably don't want to hear this from a stranger, but if you keep using revenge as an excuse to ignore the grief and pain right in front of you, you'll eventually have to pay the price. It’s not too late. You should try to overcome the past with the people who are actually here to support you."
"..."
His words were stern, but they were born from a place of genuine compassion.
Mary remained silent. She knew Ryuga was right; she had been avoiding facing both the reality of her mother’s death and the father who was still alive. In the heavy silence that followed, En, who had been nervously hovering with their food, finally spoke up.
"Um, sorry to interrupt while things are so serious, but... can I have a second? There’s someone I really want you all to meet."
"Eh? Oh, sure, I don't mind..."
"Thanks! Hey, come on out!"
After thanking Melt for answering on behalf of the group, En gestured for someone to join them.
A young man stepped forward. He looked more than a little awkward—actually, he looked entirely out of place—but there was a flicker of resolve in his eyes. When Yugo saw his face, his eyes widened in total shock.
"Y-You!?"
"Ah, um... it’s been a while..."
The young man gave a small, nervous bow, his face a mask of sheepish apology.
As he looked up, Melt—who was just as surprised as Yugo—broke into a radiant smile and called his name with genuine joy.
"Batz! You're out already?!"