Heavy

 Life for the two of them doesn't change much in the days that follow… They treat each other with care and respect, like "close family" rather than lovers.

Hiroki rents a small second-floor house that faces the street. He doesn't plan to stay long-term, but he needs a space with two separate bedrooms—one for Yuna, and one for himself.

Back at their old apartment, Yuna argues with him over this many times, insisting she can just sleep on the couch. But Hiroki always refuses vehemently. She never expects him to go so far as to rent an entire house just for such a minor disagreement. According to Hiroki, though, he has already been eyeing this place since the year before. With the savings he's built up from his band days and current job, he can afford a modest home like this. As for expenses, they split the three-month deposit equally.

The house sits on a quiet street near central Osaka. When they move in, it comes with only the most basic furnishings—a single bed, a wardrobe in each room, and a few plain wooden shelves in the living area. The walls are painted off-white, some patches faded and stained with age.

Hiroki and Yuna spend the next few days shopping for more furniture and decorations. One afternoon, they paint over the yellowed spots together, layering fresh coats of white over old wear, slowly shaping the space into something that feels like home.

Hiroki chooses a charcoal-gray sofa just the right size to fit beneath the living room window. He lays down a cream-colored shag rug under the coffee table. In his bedroom, he places a small guitar stand beside his bed, along with a few neatly stacked music sheets. Yuna adds softer touches—a few cat-shaped cushions, a low wooden bookshelf to store her favorite novels.

It takes them a full day to arrange everything, but by the end, the house no longer feels empty. It feels lived-in. Real.

And yet, a distance still lingers between them. A fracture invisible to the eye but deeply felt—one not so easily mended with paint or cushions.

A new place means a new chapter. Yuna has taken too many days off from her company, and to be honest, she is tired of the job anyway. So she hands in her resignation. It is a risky move, but for her, it is the only way forward.

After exiting the administration office, she receives a message from Takano asking to meet. They share one last meal at their usual diner—Takano, Ririka, and Yuna. For the first time, Yuna opens up about her broken marriage. But she says nothing about her current relationship with Hiroki.

Ririka, ever the emotional one, bursts into tears halfway through the meal. Takano is more reserved, quietly listening to every word.

One ordinary afternoon, Yuna goes to the nearby convenience store to pick up groceries for dinner. Ever since they move in, she often cooks for Hiroki. But lately, he insists on helping—or sometimes takes over entirely.

To her surprise, his cooking is impressive. Sometimes, he even teaches her new recipes, sharing quirky stories behind the dishes as they prepare them together.

Thinking of that, she decides to make him a proper dinner that night, a small way of saying thank you.

She wanders through the food aisles, pausing at the vegetable section. Her hand hovers over the carrots. Should she choose the long, smooth ones or the smaller, darker variety?

 While she hesitates, a familiar voice speaks behind her. "That one's sweeter. Crunchier too."

Startled, Yuna turns around.

 A woman with short dark-brown hair, sharp eyes, and a confident smile stands beside her.

 "Takano-san?!"

 They both laugh in surprise. Takano chuckles at Yuna's shocked face.

 "Didn't expect to run into you here."

 "You live nearby?"

 "Yeah. Just a few steps from here. So you guys must be living close too?"

 Yuna nods. "We are."

 "How's it been so far? Everything okay?" Takano asks, raising a brow.

 Yuna hesitates, scratches her cheek—she hasn't even noticed she's biting her lip.

 "It's fine. The new place is better. Hiroki's working… and I'm still figuring things out."

 "Finding work's tough these days. Hiroki's still stuck at his old job, huh? Let me know if you need anything—I've got contacts."

 Yuna smiles faintly and waves her hands. "Thank you, but I don't want to trouble you…"

 Takano studies her for a moment, as if she wants to say something but doesn't. Instead, she simply sighs and gently pats Yuna's shoulder.

 "You look brighter than before."

 "Well, ever since I move in, Hiroki's been really attentive about my meals. He's a great cook... I wanted to do something nice for him today."

 Takano laughs and continues shopping with her. She shows Yuna how to pick fresher meat, how to check egg expiry dates, and even shares a few kitchen tricks Yuna has never considered.

 While waiting in line at the checkout, Yuna reaches into her small new wallet to find money. But it is completely empty.

 Panicked, she rummages through every compartment—still nothing. Then she remembers: she has stashed her final paycheck into Hiroki's safe, and today, unlike other times, she hasn't borrowed from him.

 Takano watches from behind, then leans in.

 "Something wrong?"

 Yuna quickly snaps the wallet shut, turning back sheepishly.

 "I... forgot my money."

 "Well, can't you pay with your phone?"

 "I… left all my stuff at my old place…"

….

 The house she once shares with Ryusei looks exactly the same.

 It's been so long. Yuna stands quietly, taking in the sight of the familiar, pristine home. Beside it sits the smoke-gray Audi A6 she's ridden in countless times.

 Enough nostalgia. She's here for one reason only—to reclaim what's rightfully hers.

 Just days ago, Takano has to cover her entire grocery bill, and she still owes Hiroki two months of borrowed money.

 Never in her life does Yuna imagine she'd one day be ringing the doorbell to her own home. How ironic. She stands there in silence, waiting.

 But the person who opens the door is the last she expects to see.

It isn't Ryusei.

 It's her.

 "Who are you?"

 That woman—Hayame Irumi?!

 "E-Excuse me… who are you?"

 Yuna snaps out of her shock, hands trembling as they grip the edge of her skirt. Hayame Irumi? What is she doing here… What is she doing in her house?

 No… Don't tell me she and Ryusei—?

 Yuna shakes her head, forcing composure into her voice and face. After all this time, the woman still looks flawless, as alluring and ageless as ever. Yet there's something deeply unsettling about her now.

 "You… you're Hayame Irumi, right?" Yuna asks, keeping her voice calm even as her heart pounds wildly in her chest.

 "Yes…"

 Her reply is soft. Only half her face peeks out from behind the doorframe, one hand resting on it. Her emerald eyes—bottomless, haunting—seem to suck the air out of the space between them, giving Yuna a sense of unease she can't explain.

 Yuna hesitates. What is she supposed to say to her husband's mistress? Hi, I'm Ryusei's wife. I came to pick up my things? She'd sound like a stranger begging to be let in.

 "I—"

 "Yuna?"

 A low, gravelly voice whispers behind her. Warm breath grazes the back of her neck like a chill down her spine. She turns—and meets the eyes she can never forget. One arm braces against the wall beside her head, his tall frame towering over hers.

 It's him.

 It's really him.

 Her Ryusei.

 "So, you finally came," he smirks. He steps back, arms folding across his chest. "Came to get your things? Or…"

 His grin widens. "To see me again?"

 Yuna's bottom lip stings. She pulls her teeth away, realizing she's been biting it hard. As much as she tries to push it down, his presence stirs something deep and dangerous inside her.

 But not this time.

 Not anymore.

 The last of her self-control and resolve finally surfaces. Yuna looks him dead in the eye, all softness gone.

 "I'm here to take my stuff. Now, move, please."

 "Wait." He catches her wrist, keeping her from going further. His tone stays teasing. "Don't you miss me?"

 She scowls and jerks her hand away, walking past him into the house. Irumi steps aside silently.

 Yuna moves slowly through the halls and rooms she once knows so well. Every corner holds a memory, but she refuses to let them shake her. She has a mission—and she's going to see it through.

 Standing in front of what was once their bedroom, Yuna feels an unfamiliar sense of dread. This room holds sweet, intimate memories. It was once her sanctuary, a place where she felt truly safe.

 But the moment she steps inside, a strange scent overwhelms her. Light and floral, but it turns her stomach. She leans against the wall, eyes locking onto a wooden shelf at the far end of the room.

 There it is. Her bag, her phone, and a tote packed neatly with her clothes.

 All her belongings, perfectly displayed like some kind of exhibit.

 She reaches out.

 "Found them, have you?"

 Yuna freezes mid-motion. Irumi stands at the doorway, arms wrapped around herself. She steps into the room, her movements silent and smooth, like a ghost.

 "I packed them for you and left them there," she says softly, eyes fixed on the shelf. Her voice is sweet, almost haunting. "Beautiful, aren't they? Every night, I'd look at them… and now, finally, you're here to take them back."

 Yuna swallows. "The clothes… Is this your way of kicking me out?"

 "I thought you were with Hiroki now."

 "But this is my house!" Yuna's voice rings sharp and firm.

 Irumi tilts her head downward, a soft chuckle escaping her lips—then she laughs, loud and oddly eerie. She strolls to the vanity table and sits down with ease. Her otherworldly eyes catch Yuna's reflection in the mirror.

 She picks up a half-used bottle of perfume—Chelsea Koko. Ryusei gave it to Yuna one Valentine's Day. She used to wear it often.

 "Chelsea Koko, huh? Smells lovely. Ryusei always had good taste." Irumi smiles faintly. "I usually wear KC Only… you know, by Ken Charlie."

 She sets down Yuna's perfume and picks up her own—a sleek bottle with jasmine notes. Tilting her neck, she spritzes herself lightly.

 Yuna can't stand it any longer.

 This woman—this stranger—is acting like she owns the place. Like she belongs here.

 Snatching up her things, Yuna turns to leave—only to be blocked once more by that towering figure.

 Ryusei.

 His face—the one she wishes she could forget—looms before her.

 "Going somewhere?"

 "I'm leaving."

 She tries to sidestep him, but his hands land firmly on her shoulders, holding her in place.

 "Leaving so soon? I've got something to tell you."

 "What is it?"

 "Wait a minute," he says, glancing at Irumi.

 She nods and walks out obediently—but not before they exchange a look… one so intimate, so familiar, it makes Yuna's throat tighten.

 He turns back to her.

 "There's something we need to talk about. Let's finish what we started."

 Yuna sits nervously on the sofa across from Ryusei, her whole body tense, like a furnace on the verge of eruption. Thankfully, Irumi is gone—if she stayed any longer, Yuna isn't sure she could've held herself together.

 "Try to relax a little," he says.

 She looks at him like he's a predator—no, more like a cold-blooded killer. The kind who could shatter her heart with just a few words.

 She's always crumbled before him.

And it seems… that hasn't changed.

 Without wasting a second, Ryusei slides a sheet of paper from the table and pushes it toward her.

 Yuna looks down, hands trembling.

 "Let's just get straight to the point," he says. "Read it."

 That paper…

 A divorce application.

 "I won't say much," he continues, his voice calm and cutting. "Because I know you'll go along with it. Take your time to read it. I'm not asking you to sign it now or anything."

 She can't believe her eyes.

 Just a few months ago, she still lives here. And now… he wants to end it all.

 The truth hits her like a bucket of ice water.

 He must have wanted her gone for a long time already.

 Yuna's voice falters, ears ringing. "Why…"

 "I want a divorce," he states bluntly, not a flicker of hesitation in his voice.

 "But why…?" Her eyes glisten, desperate to hold back the wave rising inside her. "Why do you want to divorce me so quickly?

 Did I… do something wrong? Was I not enough…?"

 "Stop asking why. Just think about the papers."

 "Have you forgotten how many years we've been together? Don't those memories mean anything to you? How can it end just like this…?"

 "That's up to you."

 "Up to me? I won't even bring up the fact that you're with someone else—

 But why do you want to end this so suddenly? What did I do to deserve this?!"

 Her voice rises, her desperation bleeding through.

 Ryusei stares into the distance, cold and detached.

 "You did nothing wrong. Now it's your choice. Don't ask anymore."

 She feels herself falling apart.

 But she needs the truth.

 She can't keep drowning in this darkness.

 If it goes on like this, she'll spend the rest of her life in torment.

 "Then just give me a reason. Please… I just need one reason."

 She takes a trembling breath, her voice barely steady. "Then I'll do whatever you want. I'll leave, I'll sign—I'll disappear."

 Her hands clench tightly in her lap, shame and anger welling up inside.

 Suddenly, she bends forward, her teeth chattering. Don't cry. Don't cry. She repeats the words in her head like a mantra.

 Her forehead rests gently on her knees.

 If she cries now, she'll fall back into that pathetic, helpless girl she used to be.

 The ceiling light casts a dim glow over the room, shrouding everything in a cold, oppressive stillness.

 Ryusei shifts slightly, fingers laced together, as if he too is wrestling with something inside.

 Then, finally, he exhales—a long, quiet breath.

 "…Irumi," he begins, hesitating, but his next words come clear.

"She helped me… when I needed it the most."

 Yuna lifts her head slowly. Her eyes are blank, dry.

 "When SHINSEI was on the verge of collapse, no one would invest. No one believed in me. I couldn't sleep for weeks, buried in debt. Do you remember?"

 Of course she remembers.

 Back then, Ryusei was like a ghost—coming home every night with hollow eyes and a drained soul. She did everything to support him, comfort him… but no matter what, he kept pulling away.

 "Then Irumi appeared," he goes on, voice low. "She didn't just help me save the company, she also…"

 He pauses, brows furrowing in thought.

 "…She reminds me of my mother."

Yuna's heart twists violently.

 "…What?" she whispers, unable to believe what she's hearing.

 Ryusei doesn't look at her. His gaze is fixed on the divorce papers.

 "You remember her, don't you?" His voice is flat, emotionless.

 Of course she remembers that too.

 The day he first told her about his mother is etched in her mind.

A single mother with two sons. The older brother was born with cystic fibrosis, which made Ryusei the family's last hope.

 Later, his mother became the mistress of Takahashi, the man who would become his adoptive father. Even though Takahashi had a wife and two daughters, he took them both in after her death.

 His mother—she too once accepted being the other woman…

A relationship blurred between love and dependence, fragility and calculation. A tragedy disguised under the name of "family."

 It has all been foretold—she is simply too innocent, or willfully ignorant, to realize it.

 "Irumi… her face looks so much like my mother's," Ryusei continues. "She's mature… she understands me.

 With her, I've found a part of myself I lost a long time ago."

 Yuna gives a bitter smile.

 "So… because she looks like your mother… you chose her over me?"

 Ryusei scoffs, rubbing his temple, clearly tired.

 "Don't act like I never loved you."

 "Then when… when did you stop loving me?"

 Silence.

 She nods slowly. Her eyes are red, but no tears come.

 "I see."

 She reaches out and picks up the divorce papers with a trembling hand. Her eyes scan the lines again, each word cutting her like a blade.

 "…Alright," she says softly. Each syllable a slow bleed from her heart. "If you want a divorce… then I'll sign."

 Ryusei says nothing.

 It's over.

 Truly, completely over.