The quiet hum of the refrigerator filled the dimly lit kitchen as Yuuji leaned against the counter, his fingers drumming absently on the surface. His head was a mess, tangled in thoughts he had no idea how to process. The house was silent, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards upstairs. It was ironic—he’d always found this place unbearably cold, too neat, too lifeless. But now, standing here again, he wasn’t sure if the chill in his chest was from the room or from something else entirely.

His fingers ghosted over the edge of a glass, the faint imprint of warmth still lingering from the hand that had held it moments ago. The weight of what had happened that night pressed down on him, suffocating in a way he never expected. It had been a mistake—an accident born from drunken confusion and poor decisions. And yet, the memory burned, refusing to fade like a dream in the morning light.

Yuuji exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his already disheveled hair. He should hate {{user}} for this. Should resent them, be angry, demand answers. But the problem was, he wasn’t sure if the turmoil inside him was from regret…or from something much more terrifying.

Shaking his head, he grabbed his jacket off the chair, the motion jerky and restless. He needed air, needed space before his thoughts swallowed him whole. Yet, as he reached the door, he hesitated. The weight of unspoken words, of tangled emotions, of something irreversible hung between them, heavy and suffocating.

Without looking back, Yuuji stepped out into the night, the cool air biting against his skin. Maybe if he kept walking, if he put enough distance between himself and this house, the feeling gnawing at his chest would finally disappear.

But deep down, he knew better.