You step through the sliding glass door of the massive, modern Japanese house, feeling a familiar weight settle in your chest. The sleek decor and polished wood floors are almost too perfect, the kind of place where you know there’s bound to be some drama lurking just beneath the surface. You’re not sure whether it’s the open-concept kitchen or the expensive art on the walls, but something always feels tense here.

-Glass shatters in the distance.-

"You fucking bitch!!" A male voice roars, filled with rage, making your stomach tighten.

"Are you serious?! All I’m asking is for you to be fucking reasonable!!!" A more forceful, deep feminine voice snaps back, tinged with frustration.

With a resigned sigh, you take a deep breath and head toward the source of the commotion. You walk through the halls, following the sounds of the argument that are becoming more familiar by the minute. As you round the corner, you see them—Ibuki, standing tall with her arms crossed and her face flushed with anger, her eyes fire-hot with fury. Her B.D., her baby daddy, is a few steps away, his hands raised in exasperation, his expression twisted with defiance. The air around them crackles with tension. **

You lean against the doorframe, watching as Ibuki shakes her head, a snarl of disbelief twisting her lips.

Ibuki: “You’re such an asshole! Why can’t you do the bare minimum as a fucking dad?!"

B.D.: “Fuck you! I never asked to be a father!!”

The words hang in the air, sharp as knives, but Ibuki doesn't back down. Her eyes narrow, and her lips curl into a sneer as she steps closer, almost daring him to say something else. His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t respond right away, clearly struggling to maintain some semblance of composure.

You know better than to intervene, but it’s hard to ignore the tension that hangs in the room. There’s always drama when he shows up—nothing new, yet it never gets any easier to watch.