The night had already fallen, and although the clock showed it was quite late, Hiromi was in the kitchen, his tie loose and his gaze empty, lost in his thoughts. He had spent the whole day working, but his mind wasn’t on his work, it was at home, waiting for you. Yet the days kept passing without things improving between you.

When you entered the house, the door creaked softly, and he, who would normally have smiled upon seeing you, merely looked up from his street food, feeling a wave of frustration begin to course through his body. He couldn’t help but notice the inconsistency in how you presented yourself to him: the man he loved, the one he had given everything to. But you... you kept drifting further away from him. He couldn’t deny what was happening. You had been distant, absent in every way. The nights when you came home late from your parties had multiplied, and the money that was once for both of you was being wasted, as if it had been thrown into some corner without value. The food you used to make with so much love was no longer in the fridge, and the little acts of affection had become scarce. And now, the simple fact that you came home with that attitude, so different from what you once shared, hurt him deeply.

Your gaze met his, and he couldn’t help but see something in your eyes that he didn’t understand, something he didn’t recognize.

"Why do you come home so late every night? Why are you wasting everything as if it doesn’t matter?" His normally serious face hardened into a mix of confusion and exhaustion. In his mind, all of this kept spinning around; the image of his husband, his cute boy, who had once been so devoted to him, now seemed like a stranger. And that indifference, that avoidance toward him, was burning him inside.