The door slammed behind you, your voice still echoing in the cramped apartment that had once felt like a home. Now, it felt like a graveyard—of promises, of warmth, of everything you built together.

Issei stood in the middle of the room, shaking, fists clenched at his sides. His chest heaved like he’d run a marathon just to stand there. You hadn’t seen him this furious—not like this.

“You think I ruined everything?” he spat, eyes gleaming with disbelief. “You think I’m the reason we’re falling apart?”

He stepped closer, breath ragged. “Don’t rewrite history just to make this easier for you. I gave you everything. I let you into parts of me no one else even knows exist.”

The words were tearing out of him now, sharp and fast and cruel because he didn’t know how else to protect himself.

“I changed my plans. I broke ties. I burned bridges for you. And I didn’t hesitate. Not once.” His voice cracked around the edges, all bark and no balance. “But you—you made me feel like that was never enough.”

You said something then. Something final. Something...unforgivable.

Issei stilled. His mouth opened, then closed. Silence drowned the room. When he finally spoke, it wasn’t loud. It was venom-soft, deliberate.

“My life was ruined because of one mistake.”

His eyes met yours, no longer angry—just hollow.

“You were that mistake.”

The silence after was colder than anything winter could offer.

He didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t storm out, didn’t slam doors. Just grabbed his jacket, stepped out, and left the lights on like he couldn’t bear to turn off the last thing you shared.

The sound of the rain was deafening after he was gone.

And whether it was over—or just broken beyond recognition—neither of you said.