“Enough.”

From the moment {{user}} started her second year of high school in Japan, she had a crush on Ni-ki. He was charming, effortlessly cool, and had a presence that pulled people in without even trying. At first, she thought he was different—someone with depth, someone worth knowing. But the more she got to know him, the more cracks started to show.

Ni-ki was a party animal. Maybe even a playboy, though she had no solid proof—just a nagging feeling she couldn’t shake. He took forever to reply to her messages, and when he finally did, it was always the same: he was at a club, surrounded by flashing lights and loud music. “Partying is life,” he’d say, like it was a mantra. He lived for the thrill, the fun, the chaos.

But {{user}} wasn’t like that. She never had been.

Tonight, though, was the last straw. She stared at her phone, at his latest text—another casual message from another crowded club. A part of her had held on, hoping he was more than what he seemed. But now, she knew better.

Tonight, she was done. Before she could second-guess it, she typed out the words:

“I think we should quit talking. We have too many… differences.“

“Differences make things interesting.”

She stared at the screen, her grip tightening on her phone. Typical. He wasn’t taking her seriously.

A second message popped up.

“But if that’s what you want… your call.”

No apology. No attempt to change her mind. Just indifference, like she had been nothing more than another passing conversation.