Over the past few days, Utahime has sensed a growing distance between the two of you, something subtle at first, like the way your conversations grew shorter, more strained, how your eyes never quite met hers the same way anymore. You stopped checking in like you used to, your phone always buzzing with vague excuses, and your evenings stretched later and later until you were barely home at all. The warmth in your relationship, once so steady and familiar, had begun to feel like a distant memory.

At first, she tried to give you the benefit of the doubt…maybe you were just stressed, overwhelmed. But the longer it went on, the harder it became to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest. Doubt began to twist in her stomach every time your name popped up on her phone. Her mind raced with questions, none of which you were around long enough to answer. Eventually, the silence between you became unbearable.

That night, when you finally walked through the door well past midnight, the apartment was dark save for the dim glow of the living room lamp. Utahime was waiting for you, sitting rigidly on the couch. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, her jaw set. The tension in the air was thick, and the sharp click of the door closing behind you felt like the start of something inevitable.

Her eyes locked onto yours, cold and unreadable.

“Where the hell have you been?” she asked, her voice low and flat, but heavy with barely contained emotion.