The clatter of silverware were the only sounds between them since their meal arrived. Rin focused on chewing rather than on the thickening silence between him and Hye-jin. It didn't feel like this before, and he didn't know what changed. They were still the same people, weren't they?

"You've been quiet since we got here," Hye-jin said, running her tongue over her teeth before taking a sip of wine. Clad in a maroon dress and bedecked in sparkling jewelry, she was phenomenal. "What's up?"

What would he even answer to that question? There's so many things going on between them. Where would he start? "Did I wish you a happy birthday yet?" he said instead.

Hye-jin snorted. Still, a small smile pulled at the corners of her lips. The muted crimson paint made her skin seem brighter and her eyes more radiant. "Mention that again and I might start smacking you," she said. "It's not a good reminder."

"Why not?" he cocked an eyebrow. "You didn't have bad birthdays at home, right?"

She toyed with the spoon and fork in her grip, her nails scratching against their glinting finish. "It's not that I've got some trauma about it," she said. "It's just...it's an awful wake-up call about how time just passes."

"At least it's time well spent," Rin shoved another bite of the steak into his mouth. The rich taste of the sauce blended with the meat which melted as soon as it touched his tongue. Why didn't they come here as often? The food was excellent. "How are things in the language course?"

An annoyed look passed across Hye-jin's face before vanishing in a split second—as if it didn't appear in the first place. When had she gotten so good at that? Before, Hye-jin would wear her emotions on her features, and Rin used to be able to tell what his wife was thinking even before she said it aloud. Perhaps, they weren't the same people, after all. What was he supposed to feel about that?

"I prefer it if we don't talk about that here," she said, her tone flat and even. Why was she even this pissed off? What did he do this time? It's her birthday, and Rin, despite having a ton of Ashley tasks and his actual duties to do, he had been doing his best to not think about them. He's trying so hard to be present, and here was Hye-jin giving him the negativity. It's...unbecoming.

Rin tamped down his own annoyance. "Well, what are we supposed to talk about?" he asked, not bothering to clip the sardonic edge in it. Did he free up his own schedule, risked getting Ashley's ire and threat of expulsion, and made sure he could leave his mother and brother at home for at least two hours for this? "Wanna watch a movie?"

Hye-jin smoothed her plate, even to the garnish. She wasn't known to do that either. And wait...didn't she start eating chicken down to the last strip from the bone too? Strange. "What about Ichika-san and Kaito?" she asked as she chewed. "Are they going to be good for another two hours? It's another half-an-hour drive from here to the theather."

Rin sighed. "We really can't escape life, can we?"

"Yeah," she tapped a napkin to her mouth, frowning at how her lipstick came away with it. "Might as well answer the question. The scholarship is going well, but it's hard. The syntax is confusing—bordering on nonsense—and I can't imagine using it to build something coherent. And what's more, the pitch deadline is creeping closer."

He finished his own food and gripped his goblet's stem. The deep violet wine sloshed inside. Behind Hye-jin, more elegentaly-dressed people milled past, either walking to their reservations or getting out of them. Soft violin music either played from the speakers or from the quartet stationed in the upper balcony. Could be both. There's really no way of knowing. No wonder the food here cost a fortune. It probably cost an arm and a limb to hire musicians to play for as long the restaurant was open.

"Do you need more time working on that project?" he took a sip from his goblet. The bitter taste of the wine coupled with the warm, fruity flavor of what it's made from coated his tongue. He kept care to avoid wincing as the wine traced a blazing trail down his throat, chest, and stomach. This was why he hated drinking; though at the end of the day, he just kept doing it anyway. "I don't think I can help you more, especially with freeing up enough time to attend to the house. I'm stretched thin, as it is."

She frowned. Oh, right. She didn't want to be reminded of what's waiting for them back home. Still, she tucked her hair behind one ear, letting the other part of her locks frame the side of her face. "I'm not asking you to do that," she said. "I can still work on stuff back home."

"I know you, Hye-jin," he said. "When you get fixated on something, you tend to want to do nothing but it until it's finished or it finishes you."

Her eyes narrowed. "What does that supposed to mean?" she asked. "What are you implying?"

Rin blew a breath and moved to shove his fingers into his hair. He remembered too late how he had tried gelling it up before they left. "You've been doing fine at home and in your independent pitches with the language you already know," he said. "Why do you even need this crash course? You're doing a good job already."

"Wow," she breathed, leaning away from the table and plopping against the backrest of her seat. The velvet cushions crunched with the motion. "I can't believe I get to hear this on my birthday."

His gut twisted. Did he say something wrong? Hye-jin looked like she was about to murder him with the dangerous glint in her eye. Might have been anger, and not just mere annoyance. Not anymore.

"I'm sorry," Rin said quickly. "Whatever I said, I apologize. Please, let's just...let's not do this today."

Hye-jin scoffed. "You know what? Let's do this today. Just to get it out of the way," she slapped the bundled up napkin over her plate, making the utensils clatter and clink against the table. Heads started turning from their neighbors. They didn't come here to see a brewing drama between a couple who clearly did not belong in this first-class establishment. "You didn't want me to take this scholarship in the first place, right? Is that why you're acting like such a douche now?"

"What are you talking about?" he knitted his eyebrows and shook his head. "When did I ever say I'm against it? I supported you throughout, didn't I?"

Hye-jin crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah right," she said under her breath, staring to her left, towards what Rin remembered to be the restaurant's bamboo-infested lobby. "You can't even bother to listen, much less care. You've always been scared of me not having enough time to do the chores at home. That's what you're implying, right?"

"What's gotten into you?" he massaged the bridge of his nose. "Where is this coming from?"

The things she's accusing him of, not only they weren't the case, they were downright speculations. She's putting meaning behind his words apart from what he truly meant. Somewhere along the way, his words were twisted in such forms he couldn't even discern if they really came from him. He wasn't scared of Hye-jin leaving the chores and caring for his brother and mother to him. He could do it and would even provide a valid-enough excuse to go home early and avoid getting more Ashley Tasks.

"I'm saying that pushing another thing to your plate can overload you, or worse, hurt you," Rin said. "I care about you and your well-being, Hye-jin. And if you keep claiming the scholarship puts a strain on you, then maybe it's best to call it quits. You've tried your best. You've tried enough."

"I can do it," she hissed. "I just need you to listen to me and not try to fix things for me every time. Or are you too callous to even think about that?"

Rin opened his mouth but closed it promptly. He lost the moment she started attributing things to his intellect. It's her favorite course of action, and there's nothing he could do but to accept that. He lowered his head and exhaled through his nose, just to calm himself down. It wouldn't benefit either of them if he lost it here too.

"You know what," Hye-jin planted her feet on the ground, her heels clacking against the restaurant's polished tiles. The amber ambience only made the dark edges of her gaze more ominous. "You asked me where this was coming from. I'll tell you—I'm tired."

She continued. "I'm tired of having to take care of your house, your family, and your life," she said. "It's always you, you, you. And when I finally get something I want to do, you bitch about it and shit on it until I eventually give up and go back to what you want me to do. When will I ever get something for myself? Huh? When?"

At that, Rin's head snapped up. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he slammed a hand on the table, harder and louder than what she did with the napkin. "If you hate it so much, just leave!" he screamed. It didn't matter if whispers were rising to a crescendo around them or that the black-vested waiters were glancing at them and talking among themselves. "No one's stopping you from leaving, Hye-jin. By all means, go out and do what you want. No hard feelings."

Before she could open her oh-so-smart mouth, Rin pushed himself off the table and stalked off. It's a good thing he paid in advance during the reservation. He wouldn't have to face double humiliation by being chased around for forgetting to pay.

Shadows danced behind him but he kept his head facing forward, searching for the first cab who would pull up on the curb in front of the restaurant. Scratch that. He's not going back here. The entire night ruined it for him.

He felt a familiar presence behind him. Not bothering to turn around to check, he raised a hand in the air and waved the oncoming cab over. Only when the door slammed shut and the cool blast of the car's air conditioning smacked him in the face did he allow himself to look at the people in the sidewalk.

There was only one person standing there. As the cab drove away, he forced himself to forget her face and the hurt looking coloring it, especially when he's the reason for it.