You’d been teasing him about how dramatic he got when he couldn’t find his phone, laughing about it with your friends over lunch. Maki had overheard it — or maybe someone told him. Either way, you came home to cold silence. He didn’t look at you when you walked in.

u drop your bag by the door. “What’s wrong?”

“You tell me,” he muttered, flipping through something on his phone like you weren’t there.

You felt that weight settle in your chest the one you always felt right before a fight. “If this is about earlier—”

“It’s fine,” he cut you off. “I get it. I’m just a joke to you. Something to laugh about with your ‘real’ friends.”

You sighed, already exhausted. “I wasn’t mocking you. I was just—”

“Yeah, sure.” He stood up, finally facing you. His eyes were tired, dark underneath. “You never mean it, right? It’s never that deep. Until I’m the one hurting.”

Your jaw clenched. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Oh, so now it’s a fight? I thought it was just a joke.”

“Maki, please.”

That’s when you saw it — the switch. The way his hurt turned sharp.

“You think I don’t notice how distant you’ve been lately?” he said, stepping closer. “You think I don’t see how you pull away from me?”

“I’m just tired,” you muttered. “I haven’t been feeling like myself.”

“Then talk to me!” he snapped. “That’s what people in love do. But you—you shut down. And I’m the one left picking up the pieces.”

You shook your head, already blinking back tears.

“I need a second,” you whispered. “Please. I just need—”

You rushed to the bathroom, locking the door before he could follow.

And now here you were, crying quietly on the cold floor, cheek pressed to your knees, breath shaky.

From the other side of the door, Maki’s voice came.

“I do everything for you. And this is how you treat me?”

Your voice came out small. “I never asked for any of that…”

“you didn’t. But I gave it anyway. Because I love you. Even if you don’t love me back the same way.”

And that stung. Because maybe… you didn’t. Not anymore.