Ren didn't remember the last time he'd walked into work feeling this hollow.
The building's glass doors slid open with their usual soft whisper, but today the sound scraped at him. His chest felt tight. His steps felt too light, as if he wasn't fully inside his own body. His mind had replayed yesterday's fight so many times that it no longer felt like a single argument—it felt like something that had been building for months.
And Kai…Kai hadn't messaged him.Not even once.
Ren didn't know if that made it better or worse.
He reached his desk quietly, setting down his bag with a care that felt strange, like everything might collapse if he moved too fast. The office wasn't busy yet—only a few employees murmuring over coffee or clicking through emails.
Jun wasn't in yet.Thank God.
Ren sank into his chair, exhaling shakily.
He wasn't angry anymore.He wasn't even hurt, not really.He just felt… tired.
Everything had pressed too hard on him, and instead of reacting, he felt himself going numb.
He tried distracting himself with the inbox, glancing between screens, moving papers into stacks. But every motion felt sluggish, like he was underwater.
Ten minutes passed.Then fifteen.
Footsteps approached—steady, firm, familiar.
Ren stiffened before Kai even appeared.
"Morning," Kai said, voice neutral.
Ren kept his eyes on the monitor. "Morning."
Kai waited. Ren didn't look up. Eventually, Kai stepped closer.
"Ren. You okay?"
Ren swallowed. "Yeah. Just working."
Kai frowned. "You're pale."
"I'm fine."
"You don't look fine."
Ren clicked into another spreadsheet. "I said I'm fine."
The edge in his voice surprised them both.
Kai inhaled sharply. "We can't keep doing this."
Ren froze. His hands hovered over the keyboard as if even breathing might set something off.
Kai crossed his arms. "You didn't answer any of my messages last night."
"I didn't feel like talking," Ren murmured.
"You never don't feel like talking."
Ren's throat tightened. "Maybe you don't know me as well as you think."
Kai's expression darkened. "Don't start."
Ren's voice stayed soft, too soft. "You told me to use words. So I'm using them."
Kai stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Then say what's actually wrong instead of acting like I'm the enemy."
Ren flinched, swallowing back a wave of frustration that wasn't loud—just exhausted. "I didn't say you were the enemy."
"You might as well have."
"I just—" Ren's voice broke for a moment. "—I'm overwhelmed, Kai."
Kai stilled, caught off guard.
But before he could speak, Jun walked in.
"Good morning! Sorry I'm la—" He stopped mid-sentence, sensing the tension.
Kai's jaw tightened. Ren immediately shrank back, clearing his throat quietly.
Jun gave an awkward smile. "Um… I can come back later?"
Kai didn't look at him. "Go to your desk, Jun."
Jun nodded quickly and slipped away.
When the door shut behind him, Ren rubbed his forehead with trembling fingers. "Can we not do this right now? Not in front of everyone. Please."
Kai stared at him for a long moment—eyes sharp, unreadable.
"You're avoiding me."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"And you're ignoring what's making me feel this way."
Kai's voice hardened. "If this is about Jun, I swear—"
Ren's heart dropped. "It's not about Jun."
Kai scoffed. "It is. You just won't admit it."
Ren shut his eyes. "This is why I didn't want to talk."
Kai leaned in, arms braced on Ren's desk. "You're being dramatic."
Ren recoiled like he'd been struck. "I'm being—?"
Kai's voice rose—not loud, but sharp. Controlled. Dominating. "Yes. Dramatic. Moody. Acting like something is happening behind your back when there isn't. Do you have any idea how frustrating that is? How confusing?"
Ren blinked hard, breathing unsteady. "I'm not—Kai, I'm just tired. I'm trying. I'm really trying."
Kai straightened, face cold with irritation. "Then try harder."
Ren's breath caught.
Kai froze right after saying it—realizing how harsh it sounded. But the words were already in the air, already heavy, already crushing.
Ren stood slowly from his chair, hands trembling, but his voice steady in that broken, hollow way someone gets when they've run out of emotional space.
"Okay," he whispered. "I'll try harder."
"Ren—wait, that's not—"
"It's fine."
"It's not fine."
Ren gave a small, painfully polite smile. "I'll do better today. You won't even notice I'm here."
Kai felt something crack inside him—but Ren had already turned away.
Their conversation fell apart before it could even begin again.
Kai exhaled, harsh and shaky, and left without another word, the door clicking shut behind him.
Ren sat back down, chest tight, head spinning. He wasn't angry. He wasn't even sad. Just tired. So tired.
And for the first time since joining Kai's company…something dangerous slipped quietly into his thoughts.
Maybe… maybe he shouldn't stay.
Maybe removing himself from the entire situation was the only way to stop hurting like this.
The idea sat in the back of his mindquietheavyalmost peaceful.
Ren didn't push it away.
Not this time.