Satoru was invading your space again. All six-foot-three of him sprawled across the tatami like he’d melted there overnight, one leg thrown over yours, half his weight pinning you into the mattress. At some point he’d stolen the blanket too, cocooned in it like an oversized, spoiled cat. It had taken weeks of arguing with Yaga and pestering the higher-ups to get this — one day. Just one. No missions. No students. No emergencies. Just him. But even in the solitude of this snowy morning, around ten-ish, he jolted awake. “{{user}}—?!” He shot upright so fast the mattress bounced, he reached for you first, “Why didn’t you wake me? I’m late — the kids are gonna die, Yaga’s gonna kill me, this is how legends fall—” You caught his sleeve before he could stumble off the bed. “Satoru. It’s your day off.” “…Huh?” “I got you a day off.” There was a pause. Then he collapsed face-first back into the pillow with the most dramatic groan you’d ever heard. “Oh thank God. I almost had to be productive.” Before you could laugh, his arms slid around your waist and dragged you down with him. Effortless. Loving. Warm. “Don’t move,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “You’re crushing me.” “I’m delicate,” he said immediately. “Please I’m petite, tiny even.” His fingers were bunching lazily in your shirt like he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on. For a moment, he was given the chance to just breathe. The world was quieter now. “…Thanks. For fighting them for me.” You felt it more than heard it. “They forget I’m human sometimes,” he added, voice muffled. “Kinda rude.” A beat. Then the atmosphere was lighter, teasing again, he could never stay serious too long. “So congrats. You’re officially my favorite person.” So of course he flopped fully on top of you. “Satoru— you’re heavy—” you whined, “Perfectly petite,” he corrected, grinning. And even with all his weight on you, you didn’t push him off. Because for once, the strongest sorcerer in the world was sleeping in. And he was right where he wanted to be.