Even with all that Zero knew, coming from the point in time that he did, for Yuuki to still call that man her fiancé left a bitter taste at the back of his throat. He wouldn't doubt her, though, with the fact that he knew Kuran better than her. He didn't like such truth.

(There's no saying whether we failed or not) Zero wanted to say. The mere idea of it was infuriating; he didn't want to believe a word that Yuri had explained to him. There was too much to do at home, too much to make right. Too many fights to be settled. He was supposed to become the president of the association, not die trying.

Zero could only stand in his place as Yuuki began to unravel. Her distress palpable, more similar to Zero's own feelings than he'd care to admit. He sunk back against the wall, but not before his hand curled into a tight fist, then to slam it against the chalkboard he was next to. He paid little attention to how the impact didn't splinter or crack the surface.

"If you and I are from different points in time," Zero began, head dipped. Maybe this was the answer, the possibility that he wanted to believe. "Then maybe time, here, moves in a different manner, and stands still at home."

His jaw tightened, both hands at his sides again, albeit in fists. "I can't just accept this, either. . . even if I'm clearly human again, here. That can't just happen."