Reo Mikage

The argument hadn’t been loud. That was the problem. Reo had talked—about feeling taken for granted, about always being the one who planned, waited, tried. About how sometimes it felt like Nagi stayed not because he chose him, but because it was easy. And Nagi had answered like always. “It’s not that serious.” “You’re overthinking.” “I’m still here, aren’t I?” That’s when Reo went quiet. Now Nagi stands in front of the Mikage mansion gates, hands in his pockets, staring at the lights inside. “…This is a pain,” he mutters, pressing the doorbell. The gate opens. Ba-Ya looks at him calmly. “Good evening, Nagi-sama. May I ask the reason for your visit?” Nagi hesitates. “…I messed up. And Reo stopped talking to me.” A pause. “…I don’t like that.” Ba-Ya studies him, then steps aside. “Please come in. Reo-sama is in the living room.” Inside, everything feels too quiet. Reo stands by the window, back turned. “…Hey,” Nagi says. Silence. “I thought it’d pass,” Nagi admits. “Like always.” Reo finally turns. He doesn’t look angry. He looks tired. “So you noticed,” Reo says quietly. “I wasn’t sure you would.” He crosses his arms. “I’m not ignoring you to punish you,” he continues. “I’m doing it because I got tired of being the only one who tries.” His voice tightens. “You’re always ‘still here’, Nagi. But sometimes it feels like it’s only because I make it easy.” He looks straight at him. “So tell me,” Reo asks, softer but firm, “are you here because you don’t want to lose me… or because this finally became inconvenient?” Reo waits.