The laughter in the living room slowly faded.
Ren's mom called out sharply,
"Ren."
Her voice alone made his shoulders tense.
He stepped out of his room.
She was standing near the window, arms crossed, her expression hard — the same look she always wore when the topic came close to that.
She didn't waste time.
"I've told you before," she said coldly.
"If you ever fall in love with a girl… don't expect me to live peacefully."
Ren's heart dropped.
She continued, her tone steady but cruel in its certainty.
"I didn't raise you to chase feelings.
Love makes people weak.
If you choose a girl over your family… I won't tolerate it."
He tried to speak.
"Amma—"
She cut him off.
"No explanations.
If you break my trust, I won't forgive you.
I don't know what I'll do to myself then."
The words hung in the air.
Emotional blackmail — wrapped neatly in authority.
Ren lowered his head.
Not because he agreed.
But because he was trapped.
Riku stood behind the wall, listening silently, confusion in his eyes.
Ren clenched his jaw.
He thought of Aiyumi's tears.
Her quiet strength.
Her hidden sketchbook filled with dreams no one supported.
And now… here he was —
forced to choose between the girl he loved
and the mother who raised him by fear.
That night, Ren didn't sleep.
He stared at the ceiling, realizing something painful:
Every time he pushed Aiyumi away,
every time he became distant and rude…
It wasn't because he didn't love her.
It was because he was trying to protect her
from becoming the reason his mother broke.
And so he carried the blame alone —
letting Aiyumi believe he didn't care
because that lie felt safer
than dragging her into his broken reality.