With his fingers interlocked with Mika's soft, slender hand, Kokoro quietly led her away from the bustling food court. The sounds of trays clattering and cutlery scraping against porcelain faded behind them as they made their way through the corridor of the mall. Mika followed beside him with a lowered head, still trying to piece together the bombshell Kokoro had dropped—he was being blackmailed by a girl.
Her earlier outburst was a blur. Her cheeks still burned with embarrassment from slamming her palms on the table and drawing the attention of the entire food court. It wasn't like her. She rarely lost composure. But hearing the word blackmail had pulled the ground from beneath her feet.
Kokoro sensed this. He didn't say much as they walked, instead choosing to gently squeeze her hand, a silent assurance that everything would be okay.
