Naoki was born into a family that, at first glance, seemed ordinary and happy: a mother, a father, an older brother, and himself. The early years passed peacefully, filled with laughter and quiet family joys. But cracks appeared gradually, almost imperceptibly, like fog slowly covering the land, blocking out the sun. When Naoki was eight, his father began staying late at work, and his mother — anxious and jealous — began suspecting him of infidelity, transmitting her tension and worry to the child in subtle ways.

One day, when his mother went on a business trip for several days, Naoki felt unwell at school and returned home early. The house seemed empty, quiet, almost cozy in its emptiness. But then strange sounds came from the parents’ bedroom — sounds that should never have existed in a child’s memory. Curiosity and fear simultaneously pushed him to peek inside. The door was slightly open, and before his eyes unfolded a scene he would never forget: his father with another woman. Naoki froze, his heart pounding, his breath catching, his mind refusing to accept reality. Two minutes felt like an eternity before he slammed the door and ran to his room.

His father noticed him, and his eyes darkened with anger.

— What did you see, Naoki? — he demanded, sternly. — N-nothing... nothing, dad... — Naoki whispered, trembling. — Not a word to anyone, understand? — his father added threateningly.

And so passed three days. The woman left, his brother returned, and his mother appeared three days later. For Naoki, the house became a stage of silent terror; every sound felt like a threat. He clung to his mother, seeking at least a fragment of warmth and safety in her embrace.

Two months later, his mother discovered his father’s messages with the lover, and the house erupted in screams and accusations.

— You knew?! — she shouted, pointing at Naoki. — Mom... I... — he tried to explain, but the words caught in his throat. — You sat in your room, eyes closed, while your father and I were screaming! — she continued, tears streaming down her face. — How could you?

Naoki stayed in his room, eyes shut, hands pressed over his ears. His mother approached, eyes swollen, face tear-streaked. She crouched down, hugged him, and then — suddenly — struck him and called him a scoundrel before leaving. A month later, the divorce was finalized. Naoki stayed with his mother, while his brother remained with his father.

Life with his mother became a quiet, invisible torment. She pretended nothing had happened, and whenever Naoki misstepped, she compared him to his brother, lamenting how unfortunate it was that this son had come to her. Later, a new suitor appeared, his future stepfather.

— I’ll be here if you need help, — he said once, offering his hand. — I don’t want... I can manage myself, — Naoki replied, averting his gaze.

He was kind, tried to be a father figure, but Naoki remained closed off. The stepfather accepted it, supported him, helped him, creating a friendly atmosphere without attempting to replace a parent.

The birth of his younger sister fully sidelined Naoki. He was ignored, barely noticed; only money occasionally reminded him of his existence. That’s when he realized: he was *replaceable, and others’ love was not meant for him.

At seventeen, his first love appeared — a boy who seemed capable of filling the void in his heart. But happiness was brief. Naoki saw him kissing another girl. The world collapsed again. The next day, the conversation brought no relief:

— It was a joke! — the boy tried to explain. — I never really loved you... — Who could ever love me? — Naoki whispered, clenching his fists.

Years passed until Naoki met his partner. Gradually, year by year, they became friends, trusting each other completely. Two years of friendship, filled with quiet conversations, shared interests, trips to bookstores, and discussions of new ideas. Then they began dating. Life became different, but not without small quarrels: jealousy, misunderstandings, social anxieties — all these appeared occasionally but did not destroy the trust they had built.

They moved in together. His partner worked as a deputy director at a large company, earning enough to provide comfort. Naoki had no job, taking care of the house: the garden, the veranda, the backyard. His partner opened a bank account in his name, transferring funds monthly so Naoki would never be without money. Naoki had full access to his partner's card and could buy whatever he needed. He had chosen this lifestyle himself, and his partner fully supported it.

Naoki remained highly intelligent, constantly studying new things, experimenting with science and literature. His partner had prepared a personal room for him — a home library filled with Naoki’s favorite books and ones he wanted to acquire.

Winter approached, and Christmas was near. His partner's company decided to host a corporate party, to which partners could be invited. His partner immediately invited Naoki, who gladly agreed. They dressed up, got into the car, and soon arrived at the venue.

Naoki immediately felt uncomfortable. Noisy crowds, unfamiliar people, inside jokes he didn’t understand — all of it confused him. His partner held his hand, gently guiding and explaining minor details between conversations. He offered to leave a couple of times, but Naoki refused, fearing he would ruin his partner’s enjoyment.

Soon, one of the men approached, Riko, recently joined the company. He greeted his partner and noticed Naoki:

— Who’s this? — he asked, smiling. — My partner, — his partner replied calmly. Naoki shyly extended his hand: — H-hi... I’m Naoki. Riko smirked and dropped a phrase that would stick in his memory: — I must admit, I didn’t know you liked... this kind.

His partner laughed it off, while Naoki spent the rest of the evening in a haze. He noticed his partner humming softly and speaking with colleagues, but it did nothing to calm his inner turmoil.

Later, Riko approached again:

— Why aren’t you dancing? — he said with a sly grin. — You seem too busy with this shy gentleman. — He extended his hand toward Naoki's partner, inviting him to dance.

Naoki felt as if a hammer struck his chest. His heart raced, his eyes filled with anxiety. He looked at his partner and quietly tugged on his sleeve:

— I... I don’t feel well, — he whispered, nearly crying.

His partner immediately decided to leave. The ride home was silent, but the comfort of their home brought relief. Naoki lay on the couch, saying he felt slightly better. His partner went to shower, while Naoki sat, lost in thought.

Suddenly, a notification sounded on his partner's phone. Naoki reached for it, unaware how it ended up in his hands. He opened the chats and noticed a message from Riko:

"Missed the corporate? Let’s go to a restaurant, discuss things."

Doubts surged: “Why is Riko inviting only him? Is he hiding something? Does he like him more than me? Am I misinterpreting everything?”

His partner came out of the shower and found Naoki holding the phone. Naoki lifted his eyes, then lowered them again, loudly reading the message:

— Riko writes: “Missed the corporate? Let’s go to a restaurant...”

The phone flew from Naoki’s hands, smashing against the wall. He sobbed, silently accusing his partner, shouting:

— Why am I not first? Why do you choose him? Why am I always second? Do you think I’m weak? That I don’t deserve you? Why don’t you understand that I’m terrified of losing you?

His cries echoed through the house, reverberating off the walls like thunder, a mingling of past traumas and present pain leaving him vulnerable and shattered as he had never felt before.