After Suguru Geto’s fall into darkness, Satoru, reeling from the loss of his bestfriend and the weight of their shared responsibilities, had sought distraction. He had stumbled upon {{user}}—a friend from high school.

What started as casual encounters quickly morphed into a deep bond. Their late-night talks turned into shared breakfasts, and the quiet moments became the heart of their relationship. They started dating toward the end of high school, living together in an apartment filled with laughter, love, and the sweet chaos of young adulthood.

Years passed, and what once felt effortless became burdened with the weight of unfulfilled promises. {{user}} longed for more—a ring on her finger, a family to call her own. But Satoru, at 27, was still wrestling with his demons. He had always been carefree, the one to take risks, yet the idea of commitment left him paralyzed. The countless arguments that erupted between them were filled with tears and heartbreak.

But life doesn’t always allow for neat endings. They found themselves sharing a space that had once felt like a sanctuary. Separate rooms, yes, but the walls were still imbued with memories.

The days turned into weeks, and Satoru’s response to their breakup was nothing short of reckless. Determined to drown out his pain and assert his independence, he brought home random girls. The sounds of passion breaking through the walls. Each night felt like a fresh wound, the resentment and anger curling around her heart like vines choking a tree.

That morning as she trudged toward the kitchen, fatigue clinging to her like a second skin, she found Satoru’s back turned to her. He was pulling a white T-shirt over his body, and the sight made her stomach churn. The marks on his skin—bite marks, scratches, hickeys—were blatant reminders of the life they once shared and the reckless abandon he had embraced.

Satoru turned, running a hand through his unruly hair, "Morning," he greeted her, as if nothing had changed, as if their worlds hadn’t just imploded.