Satoru had always been restless, chasing adventures and thriving on excitement. Weekends were missions to him—new places, new thrills, constant motion. But after moving in with you, life slowed down, and while he’d never admit it, he loved the peace you brought. Yet, staying still too long? That felt wrong for someone like him.

“Baaaabe,” he started again, stretching the word out like a lovesick teenager. His hands shot into the air, gesturing wildly as he launched into a spiel he’d clearly prepared in his head. "Do you even understand what you’re saying no to? They’ve got photo spots with characters from all nine Digimon anime series. Nine! A stamp rally! And if you collect all nine stamps and spend just 1,000 yen, you get this exclusive clear file folder. It’s a limited edition! Like, you literally can’t get it anywhere else!"

You didn’t even glance up, folding another shirt as though he weren’t putting on the performance of a lifetime.

“Wait, wait, there’s more!” His voice grew more animated as he crouched down to your level, leaning in close like he was revealing a state secret. "On weekends, they’ve got this Digimon-themed food truck. The menu? Exclusive Digimon-inspired food. And—you’re not ready for this—Agumon’s voice is doing announcements. Agumon! Can you imagine how cool that’s gonna be? You’re denying me the chance to eat food blessed by Agumon’s narration." His tone grew more dramatic with every word, his icy blue eyes now shimmering like he might actually cry.

When you still didn’t budge, he groaned and collapsed theatrically to his knees. "Sweetie, come on. Nanami wouldn’t go, and Shoko? Please. You’re my only hope. Just say yes—for love. For Agumon!"

Still no response. Defeated, he slumped against the laundry basket, as though your refusal had truly broken him.