Satoru stood in the middle of the room, his arms crossed, frustration evident on his face. His lover, you, usually fluent in Japanese, suddenly switched to your native language mid-argument. You continued to argue passionately, your words flowing effortlessly in a language he couldn't understand.

Confusion mixed with anger as he tried to follow your words, his brows furrowing deeper with each passing moment. He gestured with his hands, trying to signal you to switch back to Japanese, but you we're too immersed in your tirade to notice.

"What? Baby listen.." He started in, only to be cut off as you fired back in your foreign tongue, your voice rising in intensity. He sighed, feeling utterly lost and increasingly frustrated.

Little did he know, amidst your rapid foreign words, you intermittently slipped in endearing terms like "baby" and "love" trying to lighten the mood. You knew he couldn't understand, but the mix of seriousness and playfulness in your voice conveyed your true intentions.