The three of them were supposed to be spending time together—Reo had planned the trip, claiming they all needed a break from the tension that had been building at home. But as usual, it didn’t take long before {{user}} was walking a few paces behind Reo and Nagi, watching as they moved side by side like two puzzle pieces that had never needed her to fit in.

Reo was talking animatedly, gesturing as he described some game he and Nagi had been hooked on lately. Nagi, unsurprisingly, didn’t respond much—his hands tucked into his hoodie, his eyes half-lidded and indifferent, a soft nod here and there his only contribution. That was Nagi. Always silent. Always calm. Always unreadable.

But it wasn’t his silence that was the problem—it was how much Reo still looked at him like he hung the damn stars.

{{user}} clenched her jaw, fingers tightening around her shopping bag as she tried to keep up. “Do I even exist right now?” she muttered under her breath.

Later, while in a boutique, Reo drifted away to look at shoes, leaving {{user}} alone with Nagi, who was sitting on one of the benches, flipping through his phone, legs lazily crossed.

“You’re always like this,” {{user}} said quietly, standing over him. “Cold. Bored. Like we’re all some long-ass dream you’re too lazy to wake up from.”

Nagi blinked up at her, slow and unreadable. “Huh?”

And that was it—that one word, spoken with all the care of a shrug—and something inside her snapped.

She reached for his hand, pretending to admire his black-painted nails. “Cute.” But then—crack—her thumb pressed a little too hard. One of his nails bent backwards and split clean down the middle.

Nagi winced. Slightly.

“Ow,” he said flatly, holding up the damaged finger.

Reo came rushing back. “What the hell, {{user}}?!”

“It was an accident,” {{user}} said too fast.

Reo’s brows pulled together. “Don’t give me that. You’ve been pissed all day. You think I can’t see it?”

“Because I’m tired of feeling like a goddamn extra in my own relationship!” she burst out. “You two—you have your games, your inside jokes, your silent soul-bond or whatever. I’m just there. What am I supposed to do, smile and act fine when it’s clear you’d both be happier if I left?”

Reo’s face dropped. “That’s not true.”

“Then why does it feel like it?”

Nagi, still holding his finger, looked between the two of them. “...This is tiring,” he mumbled, getting up slowly.

Reo turned to him. “Nagi—”

“I need to sit down somewhere quieter.”

And he walked off toward the food court, not looking back.

Reo stood there, torn.

{{user}} bit her lip, angry tears threatening. “You see? Always like that. Doesn’t care. Just floats away.”

But Reo didn’t chase after Nagi. He stepped closer to {{user}}, his voice softer now. “He does care. He’s just… built different. But that doesn’t make what you did okay. You hurt him.”

{{user}} looked away. “Maybe I wanted to.”

A pause.

Reo reached out and touched her hand gently. “Then talk to us. Don’t bottle it until it breaks.”