A sigh left her lips as she looked at old pictures of her family before they were claimed by death or separated.
âJe me demande si je pourrais ĂŞtre heureux si j'acceptais mon destin en tant que marionnette de mon père.â
It was likely a dumb thought, but one she thought often.
Nearby, Akechi had been sipping some coffee when he heard the works spoken. An eyebrow was raised. He didnât know French, but he knew what pere and marionette were. Father and... puppet. From there, it didnât take much for the detective to make an educated guess as to what she said.
Should he say something?
...did he have the right to? After what he did?
Still, perhaps he could offer some kind words, if nothing else.
â...Everything alright, Okumura-san?â Akechi asked from his table.



















