As they talked, it turned out that they both attended universities along the same railway line, and what’s more, while they had both grown up in the Kansai region, the commute to campus from home was too arduous, so they were both living on their own.

Things progressed quickly from there. They exchanged mobile phone numbers that same day, and within a month, their relationship was already at the point where they were staying over at each other’s apartments.

If she were being honest, everything in their relationship had happened pretty quickly, but Katsuya had been much sweeter when they first started dating.

But when had things got this bad?

At some point Misa had taken on the chores at Katsuya’s, so she warmed to the idea of moving in together because she was fed up with doing the housework both at her place and his.

That’s right – it didn’t even take a year for him to make me into a perfectly devoted housewife.

It was because she took pleasure in making him happy. But it wasn’t long before he got used to it and eventually took it for granted that she’d keep doing it. Katsuya didn’t even bother tidying up after himself in his own apartment, and he’d let his laundry pile up – he’d blithely call her up to say, ‘Come over, I’m almost out of clean underwear.’

At first, when she’d told him that she wasn’t his housekeeper and that he should do it himself, he had mumbled and nodded in acquiescence, but it wasn’t long before that response from her would elicit a sour mood. The endless arguments had started up around that time too and, caught in a non-stop loop of fighting, Misa gave up and basically just went over to Katsuya’s every week to keep up with the chores.

Out of this exasperation came the search for an apartment.

But then, no matter how hard Misa tried, there would be incidents like what happened today. She hated to admit it to herself – that, despite how hard she tried, her boyfriend showed absolutely no consideration for her.

And on top of that …

I’m not even living with this guy yet and he doesn’t give a second thought to hitting me during a fight. If I move in with him, I’ll have no place to run to get away!

‘I wanna go home.’

Misa stood up from the bench and walked over to a boarding spot on the platform. It would be several minutes until the next train.

Previously, she would have called Katsuya repeatedly and when he didn’t answer, she would have left numerous apologetic messages. It would not have been unusual for her to stand by the ticket gate and wait for him to reappear.

But from this newfound place of detached composure, she was able to question the necessity of clinging to a guy like him. What was more …

My mother would be so sad if she knew that my boyfriend hits me.

This thought had never even crossed her mind before. And now, it made her feel like such an undutiful daughter. It wasn’t only her mother whom she had let down, but her entire family – and her friends too. Everyone would be so sad, if they knew.

It had not taken long for the no-nonsense advice proffered by the old lady as she went on her way to bring Misa to her senses. Even Misa found it odd how quickly she’d been able to relinquish her attachment to Katsuya.

It’d be a few hours before he returned from the racetrack. Misa had a key to his apartment, and that would give her plenty of time to collect her things. Last night had been one of the rare occasions when Katsuya stayed over at her apartment in Obayashi – it would be the last. She would send the few items of his that were at her place to him by delivery service.

Misa knew their breakup would be complicated, but she was prepared for any mudslinging. Luckily, because it was usually Katsuya who summoned her to his place, she hadn’t given him a key. If worst comes to worst, she would call a friend or even the police …

Now, I guess I should send him one last message.

She thought about it for a moment and then swiftly tapped out a text on her phone:

I’ve had enough of your shit. Goodbye.

She saved it as a draft – she would fire off that message once she was safely back home in her own apartment – and then she boarded the train that had slid into the platform.

Koto’en Station

Misa swayed on the train, with the resolute intention of firing off the message saved on her phone tucked away inside her bag.

There were a few available seats dotted around, but standing suited her current mood.

‘That good-for-nothing. Have you thought about getting rid of him? For all he puts you through.’

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