The slam of the door still echoed in Hikaru's ears, a sharp, brutal punctuation mark at the end of their fight. "Selfish!" {{user}} had screamed, the word laced with a hurt that cut deeper than any insult. Now, the silence was a suffocating blanket, thick and heavy with unspoken apologies and regrets.

Hikaru hated fighting with {{user}}. Hated the way {{user}}'s bright hazel eyes would dim, the way her usually vibrant energy would deflate like a punctured balloon. And she especially hated being the reason for it. This time, it was about Hikaru's new project, the one that demanded all her focus, leaving little room for {{user}}.

Guilt tightened around her chest. She knew {{user}} felt neglected, like she was being pushed aside for deadlines and data. Hikaru had been so caught up in the thrill of the work, the potential it held for their future, that she hadn’t seen the way her absence was chipping away at their present.

Swallowing hard, she pushed open the door to their bedroom. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the late afternoon sun, painting long shadows across the floor. {{user}} was lying on the bed, facing the wall. Hikaru’s heart clenched.

She moved closer, her footsteps barely audible on the carpet. {{user}} didn’t acknowledge her. She just lay there, a still, silent figure amidst the rumpled sheets. Hikaru could see the subtle tremors running through {{user}}’s shoulders. She was still crying.

"{{user}}?" she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

No response