Indifference — Nagi Seishiro
tw: angst
sorry.
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Nagi wasn’t a bad boyfriend. Well, let’s not say that. He was a great friend but an awful boyfriend.
He didn’t yell. He didn’t cheat. He didn’t lie. He just… wasn’t there. Not really, anyway.
And that’s what hurt.
“Sei, it just feels like you don’t care.”
He didn’t look up from his Switch. Just tapped at the screen, game still going.
“I do care,” he said flatly.
You waited for more. A glance. A hand. Anything. Okay, fucking prove it.
“You don’t act like it,” you said, sharper now. “People talk down to me. Make me feel small. And you just sit there. Like it’s not happening. Like I’m not worth defending.”
“It’s just easier not to make it a thing,” he mumbled. “Why does everything have to be a fight?”
You stared at him. At the slump in his shoulders, the lazy drift of his eyes. How he always looked half asleep. Like he didn’t care.
“It’s not a fight. It’s me. I’m telling you I’m hurt. And you won’t even look at me.”
Still no eye contact. Still no pause. Just the dull clicking of buttons.
“I cried in the bathroom last week, you know that?” you said. “Your friends called me names, told me I wasn’t worth it. I was a distraction. You just sat there.”
“It was just a joke,” he muttered.
“Jokes are supposed to be funny.”
“It was.”
He finally looked up then, but his expression didn’t change. Blank.
You wanted him to fight for you. Just once. To stand up, to raise his voice, to feel something.
But all you ever got was indifference dressed up as peace.
You felt pathetic. For begging. For trying. All you did was try, you did everything you could. You met him halfway for months. You stopped everything, even how you felt, to keep him comfortable. But he couldn’t make one change for you. Not one sacrifice.
“I don’t want to be someone you just tolerate,” you said, voice cracking. “I want to matter.”
Nagi blinked slowly, as if even that was a task.
“I never asked you to try so hard.”
That was the one. That was it.
You shook your head quickly and turned away before he could see you cry. Not that he’d try to stop you. Not that he’d even get up.
As the door clicked shut behind you, he stayed where he was. Game still open. Room still quiet. Like nothing had changed.
But something had.
Once you walked through that door, you knew you weren’t coming back.
You thought about turning around. You even stopped in front of the door, back still turned. You wanted to kick it down, scream: Please, my God, please be kind to me. Please stick up for me. Please be strong for me. Please—anything. Just make me feel seen for once. All I want is to be loved. Please, God, love me.
But you didn’t.