You had already known that Kei found it hard to express how he felt, but lately, it was like he didn’t even care enough to try. His responses had become clipped and distant, like each word cost him more than he was willing to give. Whenever you tried to dig deeper, his cold indifference pushed you further away, leaving you wondering if you were the cause of his distance.

Kei sat across from you, staring at his phone, fingers absently swiping across the screen. His expression remained detached, shoulders slumped slightly. He let out a slow sigh, not even bothering to look up. "What do you want me to say to that?” His voice was quiet but edged with frustration as he responded to your concern. “I’ve already told you I’m just dealing with something right now and I need to do it by myself.”

Your throat tightened with the weight of the words that hung back, daring to exit your lips.

Kei sighed again, deeper this time, as if he was exhausted of arguing with you. "Not everything has to be done together,” he muttered, still not meeting your gaze.

Your chest tightened as the ache spread from his tone. Is it so hard to rely on you? Is it so difficult to realize that you’ll stay by his side, no matter what?

Kei finally put his phone down, standing up slowly. His posture remained rigid. "You’re always trying to fix things that doesn’t concern you,” he remarked, his voice even. "Always pushing. Did you ever think maybe I don’t have more to give right now?"

The tension was clear in his stance. "I haven’t checked out," he added sharply. "But if this isn’t good enough for you…then maybe you need to figure out what you want."

The words hung in the air, heavy and cold. His tone was sharp, but there was something beneath it—a hint of frustration mixed with exhaustion, as if he was battling something within himself.

Kei turned back, his jaw clenched, but his eyes softened for a brief second, as though he wanted to say more but couldn’t find the words. He looked away, letting the silence speak for him.