The house used to feel full—of laughter, warmth, and soft kisses after long missions. {{user}} and Tobirama had been married for years, and though he wasn’t one for big gestures, his love had always been steady.

But lately… something shifted.

He still came home every evening, but the kiss that once belonged to {{user}} was now placed on Tsumiki’s forehead alone. Then, without a word, he would walk past her and disappear into the bedroom.

{{user}} tried not to notice at first. Told herself he was tired. Overworked. Distracted. But the silence grew heavy. And his eyes, once sharp with focus, now flickered with guilt.

Then the whispers came. A woman from another clan. Quiet meetings. A glance held too long. {{user}} confronted him once—voice trembling, heart racing.

He didn’t deny it. He just didn’t say anything at all.

Now she sits at the table each night, pretending the food doesn’t taste like heartbreak. He sits across from her, eyes never meeting hers. The only warmth left in the house comes from Tsumiki—her laughter, her hugs, her little hand holding {{user}}’s like she’s trying to keep something whole.

But the silence between them speaks louder than any truth.