The apartment smells like expensive cologne—Light’s brand, but thicker somehow, clinging to the air like guilt. You weren’t supposed to be here. His classes were supposed to run late, yours were canceled. The spare key in your hand feels heavier than usual.

You open the door quietly.

A woman's voice sounds—soft, sweet, not yours.

You freeze in the entryway. His jacket is on the back of the chair. Hers is on the floor. You move without thought, silent steps toward the bedroom where the voices come from.

And there he is.

Light Yagami. Your boyfriend. Focused entirely on her. His hands gripping her hips. His face buried against her neck. He doesn't notice you yet.

You make a sound—something between a choke and a cry.

He freezes.

She gasps and pulls the sheets up, scrambling away. Light turns, and for the first time, you see something close to fear in his eyes. Not fear of hurting you. Fear of being exposed.