The meeting room felt colder than usual.
OG sat together on one side of the long table, shoulders tense, hands clenched, eyes fixed anywhere but the front. Sakura stood slightly apart, her back straight but her heart pounding so loudly she was sure everyone could hear it.
The door slammed shut.
"What did you do, Sakura?"
The manager's voice cut through the room like a blade.
Sakura flinched.
"You made a very big mistake," he continued, not waiting for an answer. "Do you even realize that?"
She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
"You thought you were being brave?" he scoffed. "You thought walking away from that dinner made you strong?"
He slammed a stack of papers onto the table. The sound echoed, making Hana jump.
"You didn't just reject a sponsor," he shouted. "You destroyed every bridge we had."
Sakura's chest tightened. "I—"
"Don't," he snapped. "Don't interrupt me."
He turned the papers toward them. Emails. Contracts. Rejection letters.
"Everything is gone," he said coldly. "All the offers we were negotiating. All the brands that contacted us last month. Every single one rejected us overnight."
Yuki whispered, "Overnight…?"
"Yes," the manager replied sharply. "Because Miss Koharu paid for everything before. And the moment she pulled back—so did everyone else."
The words hit like a slap.
Sakura's knees felt weak.
"You made everyone broke," he said, pointing directly at her. "Do you understand that? The only things we have left are the previous works—projects that were already signed and couldn't be canceled."
Aiko's eyes widened. "Then… our future schedules?"
"Gone," he said flatly. "Variety shows? Gone. Fashion deals? Gone. Overseas promotions? Gone."
Silence swallowed the room.
"And now," the manager continued, his voice rising with every word, "companies that were mailing us first won't even reply."
Sakura's vision blurred. "I didn't know it would—"
"You didn't think," he shouted. "That's the problem."
He turned to the rest of OG. "And you all let it happen. You let her make decisions without understanding the consequences."
"That's not fair," Hana said softly, tears in her eyes. "She was trying to protect us."
"Protect?" he laughed bitterly. "If this company gets bankrupted, it will be because of you."
The word hung heavy in the air.
Sakura felt something inside her crack.
"I never asked her to do any of this," Sakura said, her voice trembling but loud enough. "I never wanted her money. I never wanted her control."
"And yet," the manager replied coldly, "you benefited from it. You stood on a stage built by her influence."
Sakura lowered her head, tears dropping onto the floor.
"I only wanted us to succeed on our own," she whispered.
The manager sighed, anger slowly giving way to exhaustion. "Good intentions don't pay staff salaries. They don't keep lights on. They don't save a company."
OG sat frozen, the weight of reality crushing them.
"This is where we are now," he said quietly. "And we'll all be paying the price."
As the meeting ended, no one spoke.
Sakura stayed behind, staring at the empty chair across from her.
For the first time, she wondered—not whether she had done the right thing—
—but whether doing the right thing had cost too much.