"I don't want to disappoint her, and I don't want to feel guilty over that either, but you... You're much more important than her!"
Ayami screamed at the top of her lungs, knocking over the flowers. She grabbed onto anything she could find and helplessly threw it at the projector.
The torn screen hung behind Ayami in uneven strips, the white fabric ripped apart where her hands had clawed through it moments ago.
But the video didn't stop. The projection had shifted, now spilling directly across the altar, bending over marble, fabric, and bodies alike.
The distorted light stretched across Ayami's gown, across Asahi's suit, across the stunned officiant who could only stand there awkwardly, unable to understand what was going on.
The footage continued.
Akira's voice echoed through the hall, clearer now, louder; unaffected by the chaos unfolding in the present.
"If it's you… then I'd rather feel guilty over her than feel guilty over losing you."
