This was one of those times Fuyuka had to leave late from work. Taiyou was restless—more than usual. He practically played hide and seek with her, as if his illness and her patience were nothing but a game.

Fuyuka lost the count of times she toured around the hospital looking for the boy, forgot the times she found him and ran after him, yelling each time a scolding more threatening than the latter. She felt the stress and preocupation increase each day, and it would reach its peak everytime Tenma visited him, making Taiyou more anxious than ever. She had to stay by their side all day: watching every action, checking every vital sign of Amemiya when she saw fit, making sure he was safe, that his heart would not stop beating while she wasn't watching.

She was totally stressed. But after all, she was the one that decided this path. She didn't argue, she didn't complain. She genuinely enjoyed the face of lively satisfaction Taiyou showed her at Temna's leaving, telling her how amusing his day was, and his exhausted but grinning expression when she finally convinced him to go to his room. She liked the warm feeling of taking care of someone, thinking of them everyday and praying they are still safe even when she's not there to verify. Her job was consuming, indeed, but not less satisfactory.

Nevertheless, pretty feelings could not relieve her headache, hide her eyebags nor erase her fatigue. She was still young, but not as lively as eleven years ago—and definitely not as energetic as her husband.

And then, with that single thought, Fuyuka felt a needle prick her.

Her husband.

She suddenly stopped walking and palmed her face, murmuring some words while frowning. She felt preoccupation—and a bit of guilt—growing inside her chest. Mamoru must be at home, waiting for her with a cold dinner, concerned as hell. Fuyuka quickly checked her phone to see the hour. 11:53 pm. She got alarmed. Without thinking she hurried her pace, almost running—even though she felt just too tired for that.

She arrived home very late. She was not only taking care of Taiyou, but of some new children at the hospital as well—though any of them troubled her the same way Taiyou does—, she is also the first one to help clean the halls and organize paperwork. Fuyuka doesn't know exactly when she began doing all of this extra work, but she felt like she needed to do it anyways.

Mamoru was very worried for her health. He was pretty aware of her tiredness and chaotic sleep routine—she could sleep the rest of the day once she arrived home or stay awake all night doing paperwork. He also disapproved when she walked home alone at late hours. Somehow, Fuyuka managed to calm him down after promising him she would walk with at least one of her coworkers, but she couldn't find a sincere excuse to tell about her sleeping disarray.

That may have stopped Endou from asking, but his concerned frown would always be shown when she traspassed the front door. He would try to act his usual self, like he didn't feel concerned and abandoned. However, everytime their eyes met each other, he would seem like he wanted to tell her something—but he would never let it out; never spoke a word of what he internally thought, and she kind of liked it that way.

But deep down she knew that it wasn't okay. Her selfish comfort in exchange for his silent unconformity? Needles of guilt would prick her at night before falling asleep, but at the next day she would forget about it.

And Fuyuka knew she broke their intangible pact when she arrived home, an hour and a half later, finding Mamoru's frown only dedicated to her.

She stared at him, uneasy eyes and ready to answer a series of questions and demands—but none came. He opened his mouth for an moment, wanting to say something—like always, but like the other times, not a single complain was pronounced. Instead, he scratched his head without his typical headband and turned back, heading towards their shared room.

Fuyuka opened her eyes, shocked by his gesture. She watched his back—that back that she would always look up to, that she always saw since she was a kid, that back that got broader with the pass of the years—as he went up the stairs, and before totally disappearing, he slightly turned at her, rather quiet, unnerving.

"I left your dinner on the microwave." Just that phrase—delivered in such a cold and unfamiliar tone, it did not fail wrench Fuyuka's heart.

She was astonished, but reacted when she heard the wood creak under his steps.

"Wait!" The creaks stopped. "Mamoru, I-"

"Fuyuka, I have to wake up early tomorrow. I'm going already. Eat well, good night," he finished without even looking at her. The woman heard the sound of a closing door.

He was not there anymore.

Fuyuka felt a million of needles sting her the moment she realized he called her by her name, not by the affectionate Fuyuppe he got her so used to.

A dull void was placed in her chest. She went to the microwave and checked her dinner with a blank stare.

It wasn't a homemade dish this time. They were noodles from the Rai Rai restaurant. Fuyuka blinked, a slight frown showing in the space between her eyebrows. Mamoru never bought Rai Rai food unless it wasn't an occasion to celebrate. She grabbed the box of noodles and tightened her grip, shaking a little.

I failed him today.

The noodles didn't taste good, like they should—perhaps they actually did, but her tongue decided to neutralize the taste this time to make her feel worse. Fuyuka wished to be eating by his side, just like they used to before time set them apart. With him, it didn't matter if she was eating the most unsavory meal in the world—she would still find herself enjoying it.

Because it was him. It was with Mamoru.

The moment she finished, she noticed her sore muscles and heavy eyelids. It was like the food didn't bring her the energy she needed to check the paperwork she offered to correct. Fuyuka glaced at her purse with a troubled look. She switched her glance to the clock on the wall and shivered. Only looking at the hour made her weary; it was 1:00 am already. She wanted—and desperately needed—to sleep.

But she feared. She feared of sleeping and not actually resting, of not recovering, like the Rai Rai noodles were supposed to do. A picture of Mamoru sleeping while snuggling his own pillow and murmuring lazy words about soccer popped in her mind, making her smile slightly. Fuyuka tried to remember the last time she cuddled with him, but the memory was just too blurry and far. It must have been a long time, she thought with grief.

Before she could realize, her feet were already moving towards their shared room. Her consciousness showed her Mamoru and his long arms made to hug—to hug her. Once stood in front of the door she found herself douptful, unsure of what to do, imagining what could possibly happen; what if he was still awake? Should she try to talk with him again? What if he responds the same as before, calling her 'Fuyuka'? Would she be able to stand it? And what if he snaps and decides to talk? To talk, pouring those thoughts that he kept silenced for so long... and then leave the room, letting her sleep, alone.

Fuyuka closed her eyes and shook her head, hands trembling. The sole idea of that scenario makes her sink in pure anguish. Mamoru was hurt, yes, but he would not treat her like that, not even at his worst moments. He was too loyal, too good, too empathetic; he would probably cry if he saw her crying too.

Fuyuka let out a weak sigh, feeling a little warm after remembering the natural good nature of her husband. With a little more of confidence, she grabbed the door handle and entered her room.

To her relief, she found Mamoru asleep. She watched his chest rise and fall, deeply breathing. He wasn't hugging his pillow this time. She admired him for a while, deep on though. What would have been so important that he bought Rai Rai? Maybe it was his team, the Raimon? Mamoru probably achieved something. Fuyuka smiled slightly. He always did, she thought. It wasn't the first time his husband used his merits with the Raimon as excuses to eat Rai Rai. Fuyuka always supported him and his deeds—she thought every single thing he did was great.

Fuyuka got out her thoughts when she noticed Mamoru's body suddenly moving, accommodating himself to rest on his left side. She saw his back, again, with sadness.

Several minutes passed, Fuyuka was already lying by his side. She stared his wide back the whole time, talking on her head like she's telling Mamoru about her day. Even though she was next to him, she wasn't warm at all. She wanted to get closer, but the thought of every negative scenario made her anxious.

The sudden chill that passed through her spine made her act. She gulped, and ignoring everything but her husband's back, she passed her arms through his torso and squeezed him, pressing her head on the union between his neck and his back, crossing her legs with his. Fuyuka felt waves of heat traveling through her skin, the same heat Mamoru's body was sharing with her. She finally felt safe—and she didn't notice until now that she had been feeling unsafe this whole time.

Her anguish, her fatigue, her headache, her worries—everything started to melt away as she absorbed Mamoru's warmth, just like a flower drinks from the sun. Fuyuka automatically forgot all of her problems; right know, she was cozy. Tommorow she would talk to Mamoru. Tomorrow she would ask for a free day and make up for all the time she let her husband alone, worried and longing to embrace her with the same intensity. She understood it all when she felt Mamoru's body moving, now facing her. His arms wrapped slowly around her waist.

They stood like that for few minutes, watching each other eyes, talking their own language. Fuyuka saw pain and adoration, as if Mamoru hadn't seen her in a thousand years. Fuyuka pressed her forehead with his.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

He didn't answer—he just moved his head to lay it on her chest, starting to listen to her hearbeats as if he was a little kid. Fuyuka couldn't help but smile. She felt butterflies in her stomach like she was fourteen again. She passed her arms through the space of his neck and kissed his forehead, and then, lovingly, played with his hair as she fell asleep.

This night she was going to sleep well, without stressing herself thinking of tommorow.

Ok so, this is my first english fic, so if you spot any grammar error, please let me know! I need all the feedback to become better :D

This fic was supposed to be about Endou and Fuyuppe arguing - but I just couldn't see it... at least in the traditional way, with yelling and insults and all that stuff. They aren't like that, so I wrote them in a more passive and dissimulate way, where they have this silent war that pains them so much.

And plus I gave them a ((bitter?))sweet ending becAUSE ENFUYU IS SUPER ((BITTER))SWEET, and also I don't like bad endings lol

And an extra (that I didn't write because I had not the time): Fuyuka started to do extra work because she felt alone, just like Endou is feeling now in the story.

He centered all his attention and energy to train the Raimon to the point that he, too, started to come home late. This was a (kinda) long time ago, so that's why Fuyuka doesn't remember exactly the reason she began overworking.

And that's all! Thank you very much for reading.