Sakuramoria

- Please, have a seat. For a good minute, the president sits with her arms crossed and her eyes closed – one of her famous (in her own mind) thinking poses. Various scenarios of the conversation, the staged delivery of information, and the extraction of information are flashing through her mind, all in an attempt to squeeze out at least some useful insight from this awful situation. But the attempt to approach what happened as some kind of mathematical game ultimately fails emotionally. In essence, all the previous dark humor and denial in the conversation with the sergeant served the same purpose – an attempt to somehow ignore what was happening, to peek out of the window of a gas chamber and desperately take a few breaths. "You don't give me a moment's peace, do you?… How the *******…" – a fundamentally hostile thought flickered through her mind, but without a clear target for the emotion, it wasn't too intense. Finally, Futaba opens her eyes, looks sternly and firmly at Levisia, embodying the image of a rock, a single glance at which can evoke in a person a feeling of inevitability, dulling any defeatist sentiments. But after a few seconds, she sighs hopelessly and lowers her gaze to the table. - We just received a report from the Bluebells... Apparently, Caladium Moechich, your father, was found murdered in the city... - Having said this quickly and sharply, and to some extent guiltily, she glances at Levisia, and adds before the thought has time to settle in her head. - This is just an initial report, and I have requested a full report! We must understand that this could be disinformation from the enemy, designed to provoke us into rash actions! So, for now, I can't... don't want to, and refuse to believe it so easily... I sent people to conduct a thorough investigation and to contact close relatives. Within a minute, or a dozen, we should receive an interim report with more accurate information. So, don't rush to draw hasty conclusions! Turning away, the president realizes how pathetic her words sound against the backdrop of the news she just delivered, but what else could she do? To look Levisia in the eye while saying something like that, even if she sincerely hoped that her words of comfort might turn out to be true, would be too difficult. On top of the responsibility she already bears for the risk the students faced when they were attacked within the school walls because of her, now the person closest to her has suffered – all for the same reason. Whoever committed this atrocity chose an excellent target and the most ideal time for it. As she replayed these thoughts in her head, Futa involuntarily clenched the hilt of Hinana – her knuckles creaked. After a while, she looked at Levisia, not knowing what was required here – to offer words of support or feigned optimism? To remain silent? To activate the Barbarian, approach, and hug the headmistress? Or perhaps, to start cursing and threaten to tear the skin off the perpetrator? Despite her long experience of socialization in childhood, even before Oppaito's death, in recent years, Futa has lived as an absolute asocial recluse, not unfamiliar with the criminal element. Despite all her eloquence, somehow fueled by her vocabulary and a deep understanding of life processes gained as a result of loneliness, misfortune, and an abundance of free time, she felt emotionally crippled – an invalid with severed limbs, and the guilt imposed by the obvious motive for the murder pinned her to the ground, preventing her from even lifting her head. The only thing she could expect from the situation in the next few moments was Levisia's scream, or her desire to slap the young queen in the face. There was also the possibility that the headmistress would jump up and run out of the office – and this was the only chance that Futa had anticipated, being ready to spring up like a coiled spring and stop her from taking hasty action. But otherwise, this rotten story evoked a strong desire to put her head in a noose.