Minato could feel the distance between him and {{user}} growing every day. His responsibilities as Hokage weighed on him, but nothing could compare to the weight of his guilt. The loss of Naruto was a wound that never healed, and every day, his heart bled a little more.

He walked into their shared bedroom one evening, looking at {{user}} who was staring out of the window, lost in thought. The room felt cold despite the warmth of the evening sun outside.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Minato said quietly, his voice breaking the silence.

{{user}} didn’t turn around. She didn’t need to. She could already feel it—the end.

Minato took a deep breath, struggling to find the words, but they all felt hollow. “I’ve failed you, and I’ve failed him. I thought I could fix everything, but I’m not enough.”

Her silence cut deeper than anything he could say. The years of marriage, the love they shared, all felt like a lifetime ago.

Without another word, Minato turned to leave. His hand hovered over the door handle, but he couldn’t bring himself to look back. He knew he was leaving, but he also knew it was too late.

As the door closed behind him, {{user}}’s soft sobs were the only sound that followed.