Phase Two began immediately.
Like, immediately immediately.
Her grandfather did not even pretend to give me recovery time.
He cleared his throat.
I flinched.
"Haruto."
"Yes."
Too fast. Too loud. Wrong tone.
He glanced at me. "Sit properly."
I straightened so hard my spine made a sound.
Saki let out a tiny, panicked squeak beside me.
Her cheeks were already turning red.
Not pink.
Red. Hot, unmistakable, boiling red.
Her grandmother noticed.
Oh, she definitely noticed.
She leaned back, chin resting on her hand, eyes sparkling.
"This is getting good."
Her grandfather flipped another page.
"Next question."
My soul screamed.
"Do you contact her digitally."
I froze.
Digitally.
My brain tried to process that word like it was an alien language.
"…Digitally," I repeated.
"Yes," he said. "Messages. Calls."
"Oh."
Oh no.
"Yes," I said quickly. "We text."
"How often."
"…Sometimes."
His pen hovered.
"Define sometimes."
"I—"
My mouth betrayed me.
"Well— like— daily— but not like— constantly— unless—"
My hands started again.
This time they didn't even make shapes.
They just… flapped.
"…Unless something happens," I finished weakly.
Saki buried her face in her hands.
Her ears were red now.
Her grandmother leaned forward. "Something like what?"
I panicked.
"Homework," I blurted. "Or weather. Or food. Or— breathing."
Silence.
Her grandfather wrote something down.
I didn't like how long he wrote.
"And who initiates these conversations."
I swallowed.
"…Both?"
Saki made a small choking sound.
Her grandfather's eyes flicked to her.
"Is that correct."
Saki peeked through her fingers.
"…Yes."
Her voice cracked.
She coughed, tried again.
"Yes," she said more firmly.
Her face was so red I was worried she might actually combust.
The pen scratched harder.
Kyosuke whispered from the hallway, "They're doomed."
"Do you tease her."
The question hit like a sniper shot.
I short-circuited.
"…Tease."
"Yes."
"…Define tease."
His eyes sharpened again.
"Wrong answer."
"I mean— no— yes— not like— gently— like— jokes— friendly—"
Saki squeaked.
I turned to her in horror.
She had gone full tomato.
Steam. I swear there was steam.
Her grandmother was openly grinning now.
"Oh my," she said. "Young love."
"We are not—" I started.
Her grandfather raised a hand.
I shut up instantly.
"Does she tease you."
I didn't even hesitate.
"Yes."
Saki's head snapped up. "Hey!"
"You do," I said desperately. "All the time."
Her blush deepened.
Her grandmother laughed. "Equal exchange. Good."
Her grandfather hummed.
"Do you look at her differently than other girls."
I stopped breathing.
Time froze.
I felt every single molecule in the room judging me.
My mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
Nothing came out.
I looked at Saki.
She was already looking at me.
Eyes wide.
Face burning.
She shook her head slightly.
Not a warning.
A plea.
I swallowed.
"…Yes," I said quietly.
Saki made a sound that was half gasp, half whine.
Her grandmother clasped her hands in delight.
Her mom turned away, pretending not to hear.
Her grandfather studied me for a long moment.
Then he wrote again.
"So," he said calmly, "you are aware this puts you in dangerous territory."
"Yes."
No hesitation.
Saki's blush reached critical levels.
She looked like she might faint.
Her grandfather closed the notebook.
"For today," he said, standing, "this will suffice."
Relief hit me so hard I nearly slid off the sofa.
But then—
He paused at the doorway.
Turned back.
"And Haruto."
"Yes."
"If I see you making her cry—"
"I won't."
"If I see you hesitating—"
"I won't."
"If I see you lying—"
"I won't."
He studied me one last time.
"…Good."
He left.
The door closed.
The house exhaled.
I collapsed forward, face in my hands.
"I'm dead," I said. "I'm absolutely dead."
Saki sat frozen beside me.
"…Haruto."
"Yes."
"…My face is hot."
"I noticed."
"…Please don't look at me."
"I physically cannot look away."
Her grandmother laughed loudly.
"Oh, this summer," she said, standing up, "is going to be unforgettable."
Saki groaned and covered her face again.
And I knew.
Deep in my soul.
Phase Two wasn't about interrogation anymore.
It was about embarrassment survival.
And I was losing badly.
Saki didn't say anything.
She just stood up, walked over, and took my hand.
Like it was the most normal thing in the world.
My brain shut off instantly.
No panic.
No thoughts.
Just hand.
"…Saki," I said.
"Come on," she said, not looking at me. "We're leaving."
Leaving sounded good. Leaving sounded safe. Leaving sounded like oxygen.
She pulled me out of the house before I could overthink it.
The door closed behind us.
The noon sun hit my face, warm and almost unfairly calm, like the universe had not just tried to kill me with an elderly man and a notebook.
We walked.
Past the familiar street.
Past the corner store.
Toward the small park nearby.
Still holding hands.
Her hand was warm. Slightly sweaty. Definitely shaking.
So was mine.
Neither of us mentioned it.
The cicadas were loud. The kind of loud that fills silence so you don't have to.
I glanced at her.
She was staring straight ahead, cheeks still pink, lips pressed together like she was holding back a scream, a laugh, or both.
"…Your grandfather," I started.
"Don't," she said immediately.
"…Okay."
We reached the park.
Empty, except for a couple of benches and the slow creak of a swing moving on its own.
She finally stopped.
Let go of my hand.
I felt the absence immediately.
She sat down on the bench and buried her face in her hands.
"I'm sorry," she said, muffled. "I didn't think he'd go that far."
"I think he enjoyed it," I said weakly.
She groaned. "He definitely enjoyed it."
I sat beside her, careful. Very careful.
There was a long pause.
The kind that isn't awkward.
Just heavy.
"…You were really honest," she said quietly.
I blinked. "Was I?"
She nodded. "Yeah."
My throat tightened. "I didn't plan to be."
She peeked at me through her fingers.
"…Thank you."
Her ears went red again.
Mine probably did too.
The park stayed quiet.
No interrogation.
No notebooks.
No phase anything.
Just us.
Past noon.
Sun high.
Hearts still racing.
And for the first time that day—
I didn't feel like I was about to die.
Just… very, very alive.
Saki suddenly lifted her head.
"…Hey."
I looked at her. "Yeah?"
She stared at the ground for a second, then nodded to herself like she'd made a very serious life decision.
"Do you want to eat something?"
"…Food?"
"Yes. Food," she said firmly. "From a convenience store."
I blinked. "That's… very specific."
"I want ice cream," she added immediately. "A lot of it."
I smiled. "Stress eating?"
"Trauma recovery," she corrected. "Medical."
I laughed. "Prescribed by who?"
"Me," she said, standing up. "And if you argue, I'll remind you of how you waved your hands like a malfunctioning windmill in front of my grandfather."
"…I'm already standing."
She grabbed my hand again and pulled me up.
"Come on," she said. "Before I remember his face again."
We started walking toward the convenience store, side by side.
"…What flavor?" I asked.
She thought for a moment. "Chocolate."
Then, quieter, "…Maybe strawberry too."
I nodded seriously. "For balance."
She smiled.
Just a little.
And for the first time since the interrogation, it felt like we might actually survive the day.