Rohan was, without a doubt, a man consumed by his own brilliance. Vain, self-important, and impossibly self-assured—He was Rohan Kishibe, after all. Genius manga artist. Visionary. A man above pettiness. Or so he believed.

So the idea that you, his girlfriend, would threaten to walk away over what he saw as nothing more than his natural disposition? It bordered on absurdity. He could fix this easily. Heaven's Door could rewrite your feelings with the flick of his wrist—scrub away your doubt, your anger.

“You’re overreacting,”

he said at last, the words sharp and clipped as he rubbed at his temple with a sigh, as though your frustration was the one burdening him. His eyes rose to meet yours, one brow arched high in impatience.

"This is just who I am,"

he continued, his voice flat with disbelief.

"What exactly is it you expect me to change?"