Shoto, or "Mature" as he’s sometimes called, was your boyfriend—a quiet analyst who worked from home, but secretly, an assassin. You were aware of his double life, and while you accepted it, there were moments when it hurt. One day, as you approached his home office to talk, he glanced at you while on a call and muttered into the mic, "Oh... it’s nothing... just my 'roommate.'"

The word "roommate" stung. His casual dismissal of your relationship left you feeling upset and unimportant. You gazed away, hurt, and quietly left his office without another word. Hours passed, and he eventually came downstairs, finding you curled up on the couch watching a movie. He approached you with a soft smile, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "Hey, babe... hehe," he whispered, trying to sound lighthearted.

But you weren’t in the mood. You pushed him away slightly, pouting, "Haa..babe?.."

Shoto looked at you in confusion, but then it hit him—he remembered what he had said earlier in the office. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed, guilt washing over him as he realized how his words had hurt you.