Shin had never felt so on edge. Sitting on the kitchen counter, his leg his the cabinets below nervously as he watched Nanami, who stood by the window in her oversized hoodie and shorts, her phone pressed to her ear. Her posture was tense, rigid, like she was bracing herself for impact.

She was calling her parents.

Shin had enough context to know this was going to be rough. He saw the way she bit her lip, the way her fingers trembled as she held the phone to her ear. His heart ached for her, and he didn't know what to do or say to make it better. The reality was, there was nothing he could do. This was her choice to make; it would hurt, but he still felt grateful she decided to stay. 

Did that make him selfish? 

Probably, but he could live with that. 

The silence in the room was suffocating as he strained to hear snippets of the conversation, but her parents' voices were distant, muffled, filled with anger and disappointment. Nanami didn't say much at first, just a series of quiet, "Yes," and "I understand."

Then, in the softest voice, she said, "I'm not coming back."

Shin's breath caught in his throat. He knew this was the moment she had been dreading. The moment she defied everything her parents expected of her.

Her parents' voices grew louder, harsher, and unforgiving. Though Shin couldn't hear every word, he could feel the sadness radiating from Nanami; her shoulders slouched like she had been gravely injured.

She tried to defend herself. "I can't... I just can't live like this anymore. I need to live my life. I need to make my own choices."

But whatever she said was met with more yelling, more accusations. Shin could feel her walls crumbling, her resolve weakening. She kept listening, kept taking it in, like she believed she deserved every harsh word they threw at her.

His fists clenched as he watched her. Every part of him wanted to take the phone from her, to shout on her behalf, but he stayed rooted to his spot, knowing this wasn't his battle to fight.

"I love you," Nanami finally whispered, her voice trembling. It wasn't just a declaration. It was a plea. A desperate attempt to hold onto something.

But there was no reply. 

Only silence.

Shin watched as her face crumpled, her body sagging in defeat. He couldn't hear the final words from her parents, but he could see it in her eyes—the moment her hope shattered completely.

She hung up the phone, staring at it like she couldn't quite believe what had just happened. And then, as if everything inside her broke at once, she collapsed onto her knees.

The sobs that followed were violent, raw, the kind that seemed to come from the deepest part of her soul. Shin watched in horror as she shook uncontrollably, her body curling in on itself as if trying to protect what little remained of her heart.

"Nanami," he whispered, but his voice felt too small, too insignificant against the weight of her grief.

He didn't know what to do. He had never seen her like this—completely undone, broken in a way that terrified him.

She clutched her phone so tightly that her knuckles paled, her beautifully kept nails digging into her palm. The sobs kept coming, relentless and overwhelming, and Shin felt his own throat tighten with emotion.

He wanted to help her, to hold her, to say something that would make the pain go away. But he knew that this kind of pain wasn't something he could fix. It was something that had to be felt, had to be endured. He had gone through it once, and seeing someone else go through it was heart breaking. 

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

If she could talk clearly, she would have told him not to apologise, for her decisions were hers and hers alone.  

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It had been about a week since she had locked herself away in her. She hadn't spoken to anyone or come out for more than a few minutes at a time. Every day, Shin knocked, asked her to come out, offered to bring her food, but all he ever got was silence or the occasional muffled, "I'm fine."

But clearly, she wasn't fine! A human could survive without food, but for how long?

"She still hasn't come out?" Nana's voice broke the tense silence as she stood at the entrance to the apartment, arms crossed, her usual tough exterior hiding the concern that flickered in her eyes.

Shin shook his head. 

Nana's jaw tightened, and she ran a hand through her black hair, visibly frustrated. "This is ridiculous. She's been in there too long." She dropped her bag on the floor, storming inside straight to Nanami's room. "If she won't come out, I'll drag her out."

Shin stood up, alarmed. "Wait, Nana, maybe—"

But it was too late. Nana reached the door, her hand gripping the handle tightly. She banged on it, her voice loud and commanding. "Nanami! Enough of this shit! Open the door!"

There was no response.

Nana banged on it again, harder this time. "I'm not playing around, Nanami. Get out here now!"

From inside the room, there was a muffled, frustrated groan. "For fucks sake! Just leave me alone!"

Shin moved to intervene, but Nana was having none of it. She took a step back, and with one forceful kick, she kicked the door down. The sight of Nanami lying on the bed, wrapped in blankets, hit them both hard. She looked exhausted, her face lifeless, her hair a mess, her eyes hollow from days of crying and isolation. The room was eerily clean—everything in its place except for the bed where she had made a safe place. 

"Get up!" Nana's voice was harsh, no room for softness or sympathy. "You're not going to rot away in here."

Nanami shot her a glare from the bed, sitting up slightly, though her voice was weak. "Just get out!"

"No," Nana replied firmly, stepping into the room, unfazed by Nanami's anger. "You're gonna listen to me for once. Get your ass up and stop wallowing."

"I don't feel like it. I'm tired, Nana, just... please." Nanami's voice cracked, the exhaustion seeping through.

Nana crossed her arms, standing tall. "You think this is gonna make things better? Hiding in here, starving yourself, feeling sorry for yourself? Don't be a baby."

"Oh shut the fuck up! What do you know?" Nanami snapped, her voice trembling with frustration and shame. Nana lived her life like a free bird, what the hell did she know? She had always been charismatic and charming and so sure of herself. They could never related. 

Nana's eyes softened for just a moment, but she quickly masked it. "Maybe I don't. But I do know that this isn't helping. You're gonna waste away in here, and then what? You think that's gonna fix your problems?"

Nanami looked away; she knew there was no point, but she did not want to face her new world just yet. She didn't even know if she needed to drop out of university, how would she afford it? Five years of schooling wasn't a joke. 

"Sitting in this room feeling like shit isn't gonna change anything."

Nanami squeezed her eyes shut, the weight of Nana's words hitting her hard. For a moment, she didn't move. The silence hung in the air, thick and suffocating.

"Just leave." Nanami's voice was weak.

Nana scoffed, her anger rising as she grabbed Nanami's feet and dragged her out of bed, much to Nanami's horror. "You fucking brat! Get up!" 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Yasu stood at the entrance of the mall, feeling the familiar weight of exhaustion tugging at him. He hadn't been sleeping well—not that he ever did when things were complicated. And right now, things were as complicated as they could get.

His hands instinctively went to his pockets, searching for the familiar feel of his cigarette pack, but they found nothing. He had thrown them away. A part of him still regretted that decision.

He sighed, his eyes catching on a nearby shop display. The glass front of a cake shop shimmered with all kinds of vibrant desserts, and right in the middle of the display was a small pink heart-shaped cake. It was topped with edible glitter, the kind that sparkled under the soft lighting. It looked...ridiculous, but it was also undeniably cute.

The cake reminded him of something—no, someone.

Nanami.

For a moment, he stood frozen, staring at the cake. The soft pink, the innocent design, the carefree sparkle—surely he wasn't going to buy a whole cake because of that?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Thank you! come again next time!"

He stepped out of the cake shop, the cake box hanging in a nylon bag. He sighed and went on his way. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Nanami stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. The black bedazzled minidress clung to her curves, the deep V-neck causing eyes to cling to her desperately appreciating her figure. Over it, she draped a white fur coat; she didn't care if it got dirty if she looked amazing. Her eyes, hidden behind oversized sunglasses, hiding the redness from tears, reflected the light of the dim room. She was ready for the night, ready to lose herself tonight. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Yasu arrived at the apartment, the small pink heart-shaped cake swaying in the bag below. He paused outside the door for a moment, sighing to himself. Reaching into his jacket pocket instinctively before stopping and building his courage to knock on the door. 

Shin opened it, his face a mix of surprise and exhaustion. "She's not here," Shin said without preamble.

Yasu raised an eyebrow, glancing past him into the empty apartment. "Where is she?"

Shin sighed, stepping aside to let him in. "She went out. Said she needed to have some fun and, you know, pick herself back up." His tone was tinged with irritation, like the very thought of it bothered him.

Yasu set the cake down on the kitchen counter, his expression neutral, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. "This is for her," he said, nodding at the cake. "I figured she might need something sweet."

Shin crossed his arms, glaring at Yasu with a newfound boldness. "You're really a coward, you know that?"

Yasu looked at him sharply, shocked by the sudden aggression.

"You're really okay with letting her go like this? You keep coming around, doing these half-assed gestures, but you're not actually fighting for her. It's pathetic," Shin said, his voice rising with frustration. "You think giving her cake is going to make up for everything?"

Yasu was silent; he did not know if he should tell this kid off or not, but he kept his composure. "Careful, Shin," he warned. "You're getting cheeky."

But Shin wasn't backing down. His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer, challenging him. "She called Shoji tonight. They're out together now. Who knows where they'll end up? Maybe at a bar, maybe at a hotel. Who knows what'll happen?"

Yasu's face didn't betray much, but there was a noticeable shift in his stance, something steeling inside him. Then, without another word, he turned and left, the door closing softly behind him.

Shin stood there, seething, feeling like he hadn't said enough, like Yasu wasn't taking any of this seriously. Nanami hadn't called Shoji, Shoji called her, but still he needed to light a fire under Yasu's ass to get him to move. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The beat of the club was already pulsing through her body when she arrived, the bass shaking the floor beneath her feet. She swayed to the rhythm, taking drink after drink, each one loosening the knot of pain she had been carrying for what felt like an eternity. Vodka, tequila, whiskey—she didn't care what it was, as long as it blurred the lines of reality and dulled the ache in her chest.

Her movements became freer, her steps more daring, as the alcohol took over her senses. She laughed, loud and unapologetic, her voice lost in the sea of noise and lights. People danced around her, bodies swaying together in a chaotic rhythm, but Nanami was in her own world, her sunglasses shielding her from the prying eyes. 

The music pounded in her ears, the strobe lights flashing, and she felt herself going deeper into the night, into the haze of liquor and music. Her fur coat hung loosely over her shoulders, and she moved as if her body were weightless, untethered from any of the problems that had plagued her. For a few moments, it felt like freedom.

Shoji saw her, it was hard to miss the girl dancing in the centre of the room, captivating the eyes of anyone who's eyes accidentally passed her direction. 

He slipped in by her, dancing; she noticed him but didn't care, letting him do what he wanted or touch where he wanted. Because to her, he was someone who could easily be swayed; if she wanted him for one night, he would come running. 

Like a dog. 

She wondered how Sachiko felt knowing her man was right here trying to get under her skirt. The power trip was exhilarating. 

They went to the bar for more drinks and talked for a bit, their conversation meaningless, just noise in the background. But there was something lingering between them, something unspoken. The drinks flowed freely, and as the night wore on, and soon enough the two found themselves outside, somewhere darker, more private. 

 Shoji moved closer, his hand grazing her arm; he leaned in, his lips just inches from hers—

A hand shot out between them, pushing Shoji back. Nanami blinked, startled, as Yasu's figure emerged from the shadows.

Yasu.

"What the hell are you doing, Shoji?" Yasu's voice was low, dangerous.

Shoji raised his hands in surrender, taking a step back. "Hey, man, I didn't know—"

"Yeah, well, now you do," Yasu growled, his grip on Shoji's shoulder tightening before he let go.

Shoji, looking more than a little embarrassed, he wanted to retort, but Yasu's expression was deadly, so he could mumble and disappeared immediately, leaving Nanami and Yasu standing alone in the alley outside the club.

"Leave me alone, Yasu!" Nanami shouted, stumbling as Yasu dragged her out into the cool night air.

Yasu pinned her against the wall, his hand firm on her waist, holding her in place. His eyes bore into hers, frustration and concern swirling beneath the surface. "Come to your senses, Nanami," he muttered, his breath hot against her cheek. "This isn't how you deal with grief."

Nanami let out a bitter laugh, her head spinning from the alcohol. "Oh, really? And how exactly should I deal with it, Yasu? Please, enlighten me!"

His grip tightened, his eyes hardening. "You don't lose yourself."

She scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "How do you know what's bad for me? I have decided I need a rebound, and Shoji's right there. Problem solved."

Yasu stepped even closer until there was barely any space between them. "No. Not him." His voice dropped to a whisper, his lips brushing against her ear. "If you must get a rebound, then I'm right here."