["You're not my hometown anymore, So what am I defending now?"]

Chuuya stood motionless, his gaze fixed upon you as you embraced another man in a space that had once been unequivocally his. A place where he had belonged. A place where, until this moment, he had believed he still did. His breath faltered, his thoughts a whirlwind of disbelief and silent devastation. Try as he might, he could not reconcile what he was witnessing with the person he had once known you to be. How had it come to this? How could you stand there, so composed, while he felt as though the ground beneath him was disintegrating?

as your eyes met his, there was no faltering in your gaze. You had seen this moment before—perhaps not in reality, but in the inevitability of its unfolding. You recognized the jealousy simmering beneath his vacant expression, the anguish etched into every tense muscle. This scene had played out before, if only in different forms. You knew it all too well.

["I'm not your problem anymore, So who am I offending now?"]

"Fine," Chuuya exhaled sharply, the weight of resignation thick in his voice. "Go. Just go. No amount of pleading or pain will make a difference, will it? I could try, I could break, and it still wouldn’t be enough to stop you." His voice wavered, yet the bitterness in his words remained unyielding. "Perhaps it was always leading to this. We were never built on steady ground, anyway. We were always teetering on the edge of something unsustainable." He let out a hollow laugh. "You never even hear me out. Never even gave me a warning sign. Not once."

"I gave you so many signs," you whispered, the weight of withheld sorrow finally breaking through as tears slipped unchecked down your cheeks. "You just never learned to read them." His expression contorted—a painful collision of regret, fury, and sorrow. His voice, laced with sarcasm yet breaking.

"Right. Never learned to read your mind, did I?"

You both were officially exiled from each other