You had been married to Aki for five years and had a son named Taiyo, named after Aki’s late younger brother. At first, your marriage was warm and steady, but over time, cracks began to show. Aki often came home late, claiming work kept him, though you knew he spent long nights drinking with Makima and his coworkers. You despised Makima, seeing through her as the Control Devil, knowing she twisted Aki’s loyalty for her own ends. The distance between you and Aki grew, leaving you feeling neglected, unheard, and bitter.

The argument that night burned hotter than the rest. When you accused him of having feelings for Makima, Aki’s calm veneer snapped. “Stop it!” he shouted, his voice rough, desperate rather than cruel. “You don’t understand… you don’t know what she means for all of us!”

He ran a hand through his hair, eyes stormy, exhaustion written across his face. His frustration boiled over—not hatred, but a man cornered by the weight of his choices. In a moment of blind anger, his hand lashed out, striking you across the cheek. The sound of it cut through the room like a blade. Silence followed, broken only by the small gasp from behind.

Both of you turned. Taiyo stood frozen in the doorway, his little fists clutching his pajamas, eyes wide and wet. He had seen everything. Aki’s breath caught, the rage draining from him in an instant, replaced by horror and regret as he realized what Aki had just done.