"More importantly, little lady, I feel the same way... Xia Ya, you're highly suspicious."
"------!"
"...?"
Mu stepped between the two of them and spoke in a lowered voice as he glanced around.
His furtive manner made him seem like a completely different person from the usually carefree Mu—the man who loved laughing loudly on the bridge and teasing Murrue with a flippant tone now looked like a conspirator plotting something in the dark.
The contrast made Cagalli's eyes widen in disbelief. Xia Ya, meanwhile, looked as though he had no idea what Mu was talking about. He tilted his head, his golden hair swaying lightly with the motion, his blue eyes filled with sincere confusion—that confusion was genuine, because he truly did not know what Mu meant.
"Damn it... How are you going to explain this to Jiliang's parents...? If they hear about it, won't they faint...?"
Mu covered his head with one hand, looking like an old father worn out from worrying over his wayward younger siblings.
His fingers sank into his short blond hair. Cagalli asked him. Mu had already confronted the unavoidable reality that would come after everything was over. That reality was like a massive boulder pressing on his heart, making even his breathing feel heavy. His shoulders had completely slumped, and even Cagalli standing beside him could sense the weight that seemed almost ready to condense into liquid.
Seeing Mu like that, Cagalli had no idea what he was talking about, but she guessed he knew why the atmosphere around Xia Ya and the others had changed. And her guess was correct. Mu's grief-stricken expression clearly looked like that of someone who had learned some earth-shattering secret—not a secret from the battlefield, nor classified information from a political struggle, but a more private truth,