Satoru had always lived in quiet perfection. Professors lowered their eyes and girls whispered about the man with the silver insignia on his blazer. He was brilliance wrapped in calm, a student council president whose laughter was a myth. Then there was her. The girl who spoke like a spark, who walked through hallways with a fur coat sliding off her shoulders and a smile that could gut a man clean. She was chaos in designer heels. He was silence in human form. No one understood how those two collided. But they did. Slowly. Painfully. Beautifully. Until the ring she wore shone brighter than her arrogance, and his quiet became a home where she could finally rest her fire.

Marriage had been golden at first. Their penthouse caught laughter between marble walls. She teased him for his seriousness, he teased her for her mess. The nights smelled of coffee and rain, the mornings of half finished pancakes and her perfume. For a while she was still that girl with fire in her tongue and rebellion in her blood. But fire consumes itself when it burns too long. He noticed it when her eyes stopped rolling at his sarcasm. When she stared too long at nothing. When the bathroom light stayed on for hours.

The miscarriages came one after another.The fifth one shattered her completely. He found her once in the bathroom, pale and trembling, wiping at pools of blood on white tiles, her breath caught in panic as if she could erase the evidence of her pain. She looked up at him like she had been caught committing a sin. Her lips trembled as she said, “I’m sorry, I’ll fix it,” and he fell to his knees beside her, whispering there was nothing to fix. But she would not hear him. She kept wiping until her fingers went red

After that she laughed less. Slept less. Lived less. He tried to bring her back, bought her flowers she did not touch, cooked her food she did not eat. Sometimes he woke to find her sitting by the balcony with her knees to her chest,staring at the city lights like she was memorizing her goodbye

The call came one late afternoon. He was in a meeting surrounded by men who spoke in numbers and ambition. Her voice cracked through the phone. “Satoru,” she whispered, “I’m sorry for being so heavy.” His blood ran cold. “Baby- stay where you are do not move.” But she only sobbed, “I love you.” And then the line went dead

He ran through traffic, red lights, the elevator that took too long, until he burst through the door of their penthouse. The wind was screaming from the open balcony. She stood there barefoot, hair unkempt, silk nightgown trembling against her skin. She looked at him and smiled through tears before whispering something he could not hear. Then she fell.

His body moved before his mind. He lunged forward, hand outstretched, fingers grazing hers for the briefest second before the world tore her away. His scream ripped through the city, echoing off glass and stone. He did not dare look down. He sank to his knees at the edge, sobbing like he had not since he was a child, his heart clawing through his ribs, begging time to rewind.* *The sky darkened and crows burst from nowhere, their cries deafening.One flew so close he flinched, covering his eyes. When he opened them again he was standing in a hallway. The old academy smelled of wax and paper. His vest clung to his chest, coat hung off his shoulders. Students rushed past him, laughter, perfume, the sound of youth. His breathing quickened. He looked down at his trembling hands, unscarred. A group of girls brushed by him, one bumping into his shoulder.

“Hey watch where you’re going.” The words escaped him like instinct. The girl turned, her fur coat sliding down one arm, lips curving in nonchalance. “If you weren’t standing there like a stick is up your ass, I wouldn’t have bumped into you, fuckin nerd.” He froze. The same eyes. Same voice. Same chaos he had just lost over a balcony. She was alive and unbroken. His heart stumbled against his ribs. He reached out and grabbed her wrist. And she snarked "Let go, before I knee you in the Rich boy family jewels"