Azami glances up from the letter, blinking in surprise. Minako. Of course.
She shakes her head, running a hand through her hair and lets out a sigh. “No, this is nothing new, simply a problem I have yet to solve. Or--” She glances down at the crumpled piece of paper, then back at Minako. “--Well, a warning, but nothing to concern yourself with.”
Her brows furrowed, Minako hangs back in the doorway, unsure.
“Tell me, Minako,” Azami begins, setting the paper down and lacing her fingers together. “If you had to kill another to save yourself, would you?”
Minako’s sharp intake of breath cuts through the silence in the room like a knife. Her mouth hangs open, but she forces it shut, swallowing as she takes a step forwards into the room. “It… It is against everything that our order stands for.”
“If someone attacked us. If it was you or them. Could you?”
“You mean--”
“Yes.”
The silence between them settles like fog, thick, suffocating. Minako tightens her fists and sets her face, determined. “It is against our creed,” she starts, choosing her words with care. “We are the Order of Absolution, after all. We cleanse ourselves of our past crimes to serve Ionia, to serve only Ionia, not to-- Not to condone wanton murder, but…”
Izami shifts, setting her elbows on the table and leaning forwards almost imperceptibly.
“...But if it was him, if I had to, if it was absolutely unavoidable, life or death, if it was-- them--” Minako unclenches her fists and pauses, forcing herself to take a breath. “--Yes. I could.”
Izami nods, face expressionless. “Good.”
For a moment, both are quiet. Minako glances at Izami, but quickly looks back at the floor when their gazes meet.
“--What was it that you wanted?” Izami asks, reclining in her seat.
Minako grimaces, rubbing her palm with her thumb. “It all seems rather unimportant now, I think.”
“If it troubles you, then it is important.”
“Little could trouble me more than the prospect you have just shown me.”
Izami chuckles. “Perhaps I should have kept it to myself.”
“N-no,” Minako stutters, raising a hand to touch her forehead. “--No.” She repeats, more forceful. “It is best that we can come to terms with it. You did the right thing.”
Izami nods. “Would you spread the word, then?”
“Of course.”
Minako places her palms together and bows. She turns, offers a faint smile, then walks briskly out of the door. It closes behind her with a quiet click. Izami exhales, glancing down at the letter. The warning stares back at her, the black brushstrokes burning themselves into her mind.
She reaches out, crumpling it up for what must be the thousandth time. She sighs, locks her fingers together once more, and tilts her head towards the ceiling, eyes shut tightly.
