You heard the keys jingling outside the door, a sigh escaping your lips as you throw your head back on the couch disappointedly.

What was once joy and excitement became distress and uneasiness. You used to jump in his arms and never let go of him. But things were different now. You avoided his touch, avoided his gaze, and avoided his small talk. Something was wrong, both of you knew it.

Tooru came home later than before. Sometimes he’d be gone for days—weeks even—for training. When you hear the door to your apartment open, by then you would have retreated to the bed you share with him, pretending to sleep just to avoid him at all costs. Your marriage was falling apart, and you didn’t know what to do about it.

“{{user}},” Tooru says from behind, “I’m sorry for being late.” he reaches over and plants a kiss on your cheek, hoping you’ll at least crack a smile at him.