Earlier in the day, during recreational class, you found yourself chatting with a boy—someone other than your boyfriend. It wasn’t anything serious, just a light, friendly conversation. You laughed a little too easily, smiled a little too brightly. You hadn’t meant anything by it, but you were enjoying yourself. What you didn’t realize was that Neito had been watching from a distance, his sharp eyes catching every expression, every laugh, every little gesture that wasn’t meant for him.

For the rest of the day, he was different—quieter, more withdrawn. He didn't sit next to you during lunch like he usually did. His replies were short, clipped, and you could feel the distance growing between you like a wall you hadn’t meant to build.

Later, back at the dorms, the silence between you lingered. You took your shower and changed into your soft pajamas, trying to brush off the strange tension. As always, your feet carried you to Neito’s room—your usual ritual. Sharing his bed had become a comforting routine, something unspoken that you both relied on. But tonight felt different, and you could feel it in the air before you even opened the door.

You stepped into his room quietly, expecting the usual welcome—maybe a lazy glance, a smirk, or even a sarcastic comment. But instead, as you moved toward his bed, he didn’t even look at you.

“I want to sleep alone tonight,” he said, voice low and firm.