Ren doesn't remember grabbing his coat. He doesn't remember locking the apartment door behind him. All he knows is that Kai is gone, and every second that passes feels like a rope tightening around his chest.
He tries calling once.
Twice.
No answer.
The city lights blur past as he rushes through streets he barely sees, following a guess, a hope, a feeling in his gut. Kai has a habit of disappearing to quiet places when he's overwhelmed — but tonight isn't quiet. Tonight feels like everything is breaking too fast.
Ren spots him through the bar window.
Kai sits alone at the counter, one hand wrapped loosely around a glass he hasn't even sipped. His tie is undone, hair messy, and his shoulders look unbearably heavy. The sight knocks the air from Ren's lungs.
He pushes open the door, and it creaks loudly enough to draw Kai's attention.
Kai turns.
His eyes widen, not in anger — in exhaustion.
"Ren… what are you doing here?"
Ren swallows hard. "Looking for you."
Kai stares down at the untouched drink. "I told you I needed space."
"You've been gone for over an hour."
Kai lets out a humorless laugh. "I thought an hour might be safer than ten minutes."
Ren flinches at the softness of the words — soft, but full of cracks. Silence stretches, raw and uncomfortable.
"Can we go somewhere else?" Ren asks quietly.
Kai thinks for a long moment, then nods.
They leave the bar without touching their drinks, walking side by side in a quiet, tense line. Kai leads without saying anything, down familiar streets, past convenience stores and flickering street lamps, until the buildings thin out.
They end up by a small lakeside park, almost empty at night. The water reflects the moon in soft ripples, everything quiet except the distant hum of traffic.
Kai stands at the edge of the lake, hands in his pockets, staring at the water like he's trying to ask it for courage.
Ren stands beside him, afraid to breathe too loudly.
Kai inhales shakily. "Ren… I need to say something."
Ren's stomach drops.
Kai forces the words out slowly, each one sounding like it hurts. "Maybe this wasn't the right choice."
Ren's breath catches.
Kai keeps going, voice breaking a little. "Maybe… maybe divorcing two days into this is where we're headed."
Like a string snapping, Ren's entire world lurches. His vision blurs instantly, and he steps closer without even realizing it.
"Don't say that," Ren whispers.
Kai closes his eyes.
"Please," Ren begs, voice trembling. "Kai, please don't say that. Please don't even think it. We've barely started. We had one fight— just one. That doesn't mean we're broken."
Kai shakes his head, looking away. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't want us to end up hating each other. And today— I lost control. I pushed you. I walked out. What if that's who I become? What if living together just makes everything worse?"
Ren's voice breaks open completely. "Kai, look at me."
Kai hesitates.
"Look at me!" Ren cries, stepping directly in front of him. Not angry — desperate. Heartbroken. Trying so hard not to fall apart. "You think I'm leaving after one mistake? You think I'd let this go? Kai, everything we've built— everything we've dreamed about— doesn't disappear because we're scared."
Kai's throat tightens visibly.
Ren grabs Kai's hands, holding them firmly. "I love you. I love you so much it terrifies me sometimes. And if you think I'll let this marriage die before it's even lived, you're wrong. Please don't give up on us. Please don't say divorce. I can't— I can't handle that."
Kai finally cracks.
His face folds in on itself, and he pulls Ren into a tight, shaking hug. Ren feels Kai's breath stutter against his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," Kai chokes. "Work has been hell, and I haven't slept, and I feel like everything is piling up. I'm scared of messing this up. I'm scared of losing you."
Ren presses his forehead into Kai's. "Then don't walk away. Don't throw us out just because you're scared. Let me help you. Let me share the weight."
Kai's voice goes small. "I didn't want to burden you."
"You're my husband," Ren whispers. "It's not a burden. It's us. Together."
Kai breaks completely then, burying his face in Ren's shoulder as quiet sobs shake through him. Ren holds him tighter, gently rubbing his back, the way Kai always did for him before meetings, before hard days.
It feels like letting out months of pressure in one fragile moment.
They stay like that until Kai's breathing steadies, until the moonlight feels softer, until the night isn't sharp anymore.
When Kai finally pulls back, his eyes are red but clearer.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs again.
"So am I," Ren replies.
Kai takes Ren's hand, thumb brushing the back of it. "Can we… go home?"
Ren nods softly. "Yeah. Let's go home."
They walk side by side along the lakeside path, their hands linked, their steps slow but steady. The night air is cool, but their shoulders brush every few steps, small reminders that neither of them is walking alone anymore.
Their first real fracture didn't break them.
If anything, it stitched them closer.
And as they head back toward the apartment lights, toward their shared future, both of them know they're walking in the right direction.