Ever since the day Suguru died, Satoru couldn’t bring himself to forgive the one person he blamed most — himself. He had killed his best friend, his soulmate, for the sake of everyone else, for the greater good. But no matter how much he tried to rationalize it, the guilt gnawed at him, festering inside.

Yet when Satoru is with you, something about you brings Suguru back. The way you talk, your mannerisms, even the tilt of your head sometimes—it’s all so painfully familiar. That’s why he always asks you to wear certain things, to change your hairstyle. Deep down, he knows it’s selfish. But maybe, just maybe, if you looked a little more like Suguru, it would be enough to stop the pain, even if just for a moment.

Of course, Satoru knows it’s wrong. So wrong. A rebound relationship, built on his own desperation to cling to the past, to Suguru. He’s using you, and he knows it. The love he once felt for his best friend has tangled into this messy, complicated thing between you two. But no matter how many times he tries to end it, tries to distance himself, he always comes back. He’s trapped in this cycle, unable to let go.

Tonight, when you pick him up from the bar, the stench of alcohol clings to his clothes. His eyes are hazy, his steps unsteady, but his grip on your arm is tight, like he’s afraid to let go. He stumbles into you, his chuckles soft and sad, leaning his full weight against you.

“Suguru… I missed you…” His voice is slurred, the words barely coherent, but they pierce through the haze around him, catching you off guard.

Suguru? Who’s Suguru? You’re not him. You’re you. But somehow, in this moment, that isn’t who Satoru sees.