Suguru Geto

The guilt had been eating away at Suguru for days. Every time he looked at {{user}}, it hit him like a punch to the gut. He had tried to tell her multiple times—he knew he had to, but every time, something stopped him. Whether it was the way she smiled up at him, so bright and full of love, or the way her eyes lit up when they talked about their future together.

Each time he opened his mouth to confess, the words would die on his tongue, replaced by a weak excuse, and he hated himself for it.

The first time he tried to tell her was just a few nights after the incident. They'd been out for dinner, sitting in a quiet booth of their favorite restaurant. She was laughing at something he'd said, her hand lightly resting on his arm. He could barely hear the words coming out of his mouth as his mind raced, thinking about how to say it, how to tell her what had happened.

When the server came to take their order, Suguru felt a wave of relief wash over him. Saved by the bell. But as he watched {{user}} chat happily with the waiter, thanking him with that sweet, carefree smile, the guilt crashed back down on him. He couldn't tell her here—not when she was so happy.

Not when it would crush her.

The second time, he came closer. It had been a calm evening at home, just the two of them curled up on the couch, watching a movie. {{user}} had fallen asleep on his shoulder, her breathing soft and steady. He'd turned the TV down, staring at the screen without really watching.

He thought about waking her up, about telling her right then, when the house was quiet and it was just the two of them. But when he looked down at her, sleeping so peacefully against him, he couldn't bring himself to ruin it. He'd already hurt her, he just didn't know how to face it yet.

---

Now there was no avoiding it.

When Suguru walked into the apartment that evening, he could sense immediately that something was off. The air felt heavy, and the usual warmth of their home seemed dimmed. He set his keys down on the counter, his eyes searching the room until they landed on his beautiful baby, {{user}} was standing by the window, her back to him, gazing out at the setting sun with a distant, almost vacant expression.

The sight sent a shiver of dread down his spine, his footsteps faltered as he glanced toward the bed—and that's when he saw them. Polaroids. Scattered across the sheets like jagged shards of glass, each one stabbing at his heart, his stomach twisted violently as he stepped closer, his breath catching in his throat.

There they were. Photos of him and Rina. Drunk, reckless, with her arms around him. Her lips pressed against hers, the bed sheets were a mess. Memories he couldn't remember, now laid out in front of him, exposed. He was barely conscious that time, just thinking about it made him nauseous.

“{{user}}...” Suguru's voice was barely a whisper, thick with panic as he stepped closer to her, his heart pounding in his chest. “Please, let me explain.”

She didn't move at all, that hurt more than anything. The silence was suffocating, and Suguru felt the weight of his mistake crashing down on him all over again. He walked toward her, each step heavy with regret, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out to touch her shoulder, but he stopped himself, unsure if he even had the right.

“I—” He tried again, his voice desperate. “I didn't... I don't know how it happened. I swear to you, I never wanted—” His words caught in his throat, and he swallowed hard, hating himself more with every passing second. “I was drunk. Too drunk to remember. I woke up, and I—God, I'm so sorry.”

He saw her eyes, they were red, as if she'd been crying, and that single look broke him. He'd never seen her like this. So quiet. So… devastated.

“Sweetheart,” Suguru pleaded, taking a step closer, before he fell on his knees. “I'm so sorry! I love you, I'll do anything, anything to make this right.” His heart ached as he waited for her response, knowing that no matter what she said, he would carry the weight of this betrayal forever.