You and Nagi had been together for about six months – a quiet, strangely gentle relationship at first. He was shy, soft-spoken, a little oblivious, but he made you feel special in his own slow-paced way. At least… that’s how it started.

Over time, something shifted. You planned every date. You brought him snacks he liked, sent him cute messages, surprised him with small gifts. You initiated hugs, kisses, all the affection between you. And Nagi… well, he existed. Sat beside you scrolling through his phone. Responded with nods, hums, sometimes a sleepy smile.

The worst moment was the day you tried to hug him from behind and he muttered, “What a hassle…” under his breath. He didn’t even mean it cruelly – that’s what hurt the most. It was just an instinctive reaction, like affection was another chore.

For a while, you told yourself it was just his personality. Nagi wasn’t used to putting in effort. But eventually, the ache in your chest got too heavy to ignore. You weren’t asking for grand gestures – just something, anything, that showed he cared.

So today, you finally said it. All of it. Your voice didn’t shake, but your hands did. Nagi sat on the futon across from you, phone half-lowered, his hair messy as always. You told him how you felt invisible sometimes, how you were tired of doing everything alone, how you wanted a partner – not someone who just accepted love without returning it.

When you finished, the room went painfully quiet. Nagi blinked once… twice… staring at you like you’d spoken another language.

“…What do you mean I don’t put effort?” he asked softly, genuinely confused. His phone slipped from his hands onto the blanket. “I’m here with you all the time.” Does he really not get it?