Chapter 10 – Their First Fight

The fight didn’t start with shouting.

It started with silence.

Yuji came home late that night. Not late enough to be suspicious, but late enough that the dinner Aiko had carefully prepared had gone cold.

She sat at the small table, hands folded, listening to the clock tick.

When the door finally opened, Yuji stepped in quietly, shoes in hand. His shoulders sagged the moment he saw her sitting there.

“You waited,” he said.

Aiko nodded. “I wanted to eat together.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “My manager asked me to cover another shift. I didn’t want to say no.”

“I know,” she replied. Her voice was calm. Too calm.

Yuji changed out of his uniform and sat across from her. He picked up his chopsticks, then stopped when he noticed she wasn’t eating.

“You’re upset,” he said.

Aiko shook her head. “I’m not angry.”

That answer made his chest tighten. He knew it meant something worse.

She stood and began clearing the table. Yuji reached out. “Aiko, wait. Talk to me.”

She hesitated, then sat back down.

“I just… I felt stupid,” she said quietly. “Sitting here alone, pretending everything’s fine.”

Yuji frowned. “I’m working so we can afford things. Rent. Food. Hospital bills.”

“I know that,” she said. “I really do. I’m grateful.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Aiko looked down at her hands. “I don’t want to feel like I’m always waiting.”

The words hung between them.

Yuji exhaled slowly. “I don’t want you to feel that way.”

“But I do,” she admitted. “All day, I’m alone. I can’t go home. I can’t tell my parents anything. And when you’re late…” Her voice cracked. “It feels like I don’t exist to anyone.”

Yuji’s chest tightened painfully.

“That’s not true,” he said firmly. “You matter more than anything to me.”

“Then why didn’t you call?” she asked softly.

He opened his mouth, then closed it.

“I thought you’d worry,” he said. “I didn’t want to stress you.”

Aiko laughed weakly. “Not knowing makes me worry more.”

Yuji rubbed his face. He looked tired. Not just from work—but from the weight he carried.

“I’m trying,” he said. “I really am. I feel like if I stop even for a second, everything will fall apart.”

Aiko’s eyes softened. She hadn’t meant to hurt him.

“I’m scared too,” she said. “I don’t know how to be a wife. Or a mother. I don’t even know how to cook properly without checking recipes.”

He gave a tired smile. “You’re doing great.”

She shook her head. “I need you to be here. Not just physically. I need to know we’re facing this together.”

Yuji reached across the table, taking her hands. His grip was warm, steady.

“You’re not alone,” he said. “I promise. But I need you to tell me when you’re hurting. Don’t bottle it up.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I didn’t want to sound ungrateful.”

“Never feel like that with me,” he said gently. “We’re allowed to struggle.”

The silence returned—but this time, it wasn’t heavy.

Aiko leaned forward, resting her forehead against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her without hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He kissed the top of her head. “Me too.”

They stayed like that for a long time, listening to each other breathe.

Later, as they lay side by side on the futon, Yuji turned toward her.

“Next time I’m late,” he said, “I’ll call. No matter what.”

Aiko smiled faintly. “And next time I feel lonely, I’ll say it out loud.”

He nodded. “Deal.”

She placed his hand gently on her stomach. “We’re learning. All of us.”

Yuji’s thumb moved slowly, carefully.

“Yeah,” he said. “We are.”

The room was small. The future uncertain. Their hearts bruised but still beating together.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was real.