The storm outside mirrored the tension in the classroom. Rain lashed against the windows, and thunder growled low, a warning of something on the brink of breaking. Tetsurou’s usually easy grin was replaced by a furrowed brow and a clenched jaw. The warmth that normally radiated from him was now a cold, cutting edge.

The argument had started small—a misunderstanding, a careless comment—but like a spark to kindling, it ignited into something far larger, far uglier. His voice rose, sharp and biting, laced with frustration that he rarely let show. “Do you even hear yourself?” he snapped, running a hand through his hair. “You’re acting like I don’t care, like I haven’t been here—always been here for you!”

His words weren’t cruel, but they carried weight, each one sinking into you like stones. You tried to keep your composure, but it was slipping. Tetsurou was your anchor, your safe place, the person who knew you better than anyone. But now, it felt as if he was standing on the other side of an uncrossable chasm, unreachable and unfamiliar.

“Can’t you see that I’m trying as hard as I can, despite juggling volleyball and school?” he continued, his voice cracking despite his attempts to keep it steady. He exhaled sharply. “I don’t know how to fix this if you can’t even meet me halfway like I've always tried to do for you.”

You flinched at the sharpness in his tone, and that was when he faltered. The storm in him paused, as if realizing the damage done. His shoulders sagged, and his expression softened, regret washing over him in waves. But he didn’t reach for you. He stayed rooted in place, the silence between you now louder than the rain pounding outside.

When you turned and walked away, his voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t go,” he said, but it wasn’t enough to stop you. The sound of the door sliding shut behind you was deafening.

Tetsurou couldn’t follow. He just stood there, staring at the spot where you had been, his fists clenched at his sides as if trying to hold himself together.