the honeymoon phase had crashed, leaving a bitter aftertaste. barely two weeks into your marriage, the silence in your shared home was deafening, punctuated only by the rustle of papers from satoru's study.

you called out to him, your voice barely above a whisper, entering his office.

he didn't look up. "i told you, i'm busy. can't this wait?" his tone was clipped, a sharp contrast to the playful warmth you'd come to expect.

the root of the problem lay in a conversation weeks ago. satoru had excitedly talked about wanting children, a "miniature version of us running around." you, however, had voiced your concerns about your demanding schedules. the thought of a child growing up with two emotionally absent parents was unbearable. it wasn't that you didn't want children, but you wanted them when you could truly be present.

since then, satoru had retreated, burying himself in work, a wall of icy silence between you. you felt the distance growing, a chasm threatening to swallow your fledgling marriage.