Your argument started over something stupid - whether he trained too much, whether you worried too much. Voices rose, words sharpened. He walked out first, pride burning in his chest. You didn’t see him again that night.

But when morning came, you woke to find a tray at your door - rice, miso, and perfectly sliced fruit. Ren stood a few steps away, leaning against the door, arms crossed, eyes averted.

"It was going to go to waste," he muttered quietly, looking away from you.