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Yamato Akio stared blankly ahead as the elevator doors slid shut, trapping him inside a steel coffin that groaned under the weight of corporate sorrow.
It was nearly 11 PM.
Another fourteen-hour shift. Another day drowned in sweat, paperwork, and abuse.
He worked for a so-called "construction logistics management" firm—just a fancy name for a black company. The kind that wrung every drop of life from its employees and tossed them out when they broke. And he was already broken.
His bones ached. His shoulders slumped. The only thing heavier than his tool bag was the silence of a family that had long stopped caring.
He stepped out of the elevator into the cold night, tired feet dragging toward the train station. Tokyo glowed dimly under flickering streetlights and the soft hum of vending machines. His jacket clung damply to his back, the early autumn rain turning the air to needles.
As he neared the corner of Nakamura Street, he stopped.
There, under a flickering lamppost, stood his wife. And beside her — his son.
They were laughing.
Not at him.
At something a man in a suit had said. A familiar man. **Akio's boss.**
The boy tugged on the man's sleeve like he was used to it.
His wife, Yui, clutched her handbag like she hadn't just crushed Akio's heart. She looked younger than she had in years. Vibrant. Free.
Akio stepped back into the shadows, heart in his throat.
She had told him she was visiting her sister tonight. She had even texted him: *"Don't wait up. I might stay over."*
He turned away.
His hands trembled. Not with rage. With something worse — resignation. Like a house collapsing inward, he felt everything inside him cave.
---
The apartment door creaked open quietly. He didn't want to wake his son. It was past midnight now.
He kicked off his boots and stepped into the tiny, dimly lit hallway. The smell of instant noodles and damp futon greeted him.
His son, Haruto, was asleep on the couch with the TV still glowing. Cartoon reruns flickered across his peaceful face.
Akio knelt and gently placed a blanket over him.
He sat in silence for a while, watching the boy breathe.
Then the bedroom door opened.
Yui stood there in a white t-shirt and shorts, arms crossed.
"You're late," she said coldly.
Akio didn't answer. He just looked up at her. And asked one word:
"Why?"
She blinked. "Why what?"
"I saw you. With Haruto. And my boss."
Silence.
Then she laughed. "So? Maybe now you understand what it's like to be ignored. You're never here, Akio. You come home like a ghost. You don't even talk to us. You care more about your job than your own family."
Akio stood slowly. "I've been working myself to death for you. For Haruto. You know that."
She scoffed. "Don't pretend you're some martyr. You chose this job. You chose to disappear. I'm tired of waiting. Tired of sleeping alone. Tired of pretending this marriage is alive when it's not."
He stared at her, eyes hollow. "So what now?"
"I want a divorce."
It didn't even hurt.
Not really.
He just nodded. "When?"
"Soon. I'll take Haruto for the weekend. You can start packing."
She turned and went back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
Akio stood alone in the hallway, staring at the wall.
There was no anger.
Only silence.
The kind that cracks foundations and leaves ruins in its wake.
---
A/N: This is a new story that I started and the reason is that the previous novel was rejected by the webnovel authors for a contract and they didn't even tell me why they rejected it. So that's why I wrote this novel. I hope that the webnovel authors will approve this novel's contract when the time comes.