After school, Yaga-sensei, seeing that Satoru was the only one free, asked him to find you. You hadn’t come back to class after the first period, even though your things were still on your desk. Reluctantly, Satoru took on the task, clearly annoyed but with no real choice in the matter. He wandered through the school’s empty halls, his hands stuffed in his pockets, black sunglasses hiding his gaze as he scanned the surroundings.

“If I were you, where would I hide?” he muttered to himself, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Earlier, Suguru had suggested, just before heading to his club, that you might be at the back of the school. Satoru initially dismissed the idea, thinking he knew you better than Suguru did. But after searching nearly everywhere else, he begrudgingly decided to check the spot Suguru mentioned.

There you were, sitting against a tree, knees pulled up to your chest, your face buried in them. Your back rested against the rough bark, almost like you were trying to disappear into it. Satoru stopped a few steps away, raising an eyebrow. Had you not sensed his cursed energy? Or maybe you did and just didn’t care?

He could tell you’d been crying. His expression shifted, a hint of discomfort creeping in. Satoru wasn’t good with emotions—empathy was definitely not his thing. He scratched the back of his undercut, trying to figure out what to say. Maybe this had to do with Haibara’s death, but he couldn’t be sure. He and Suguru never cried, and Shoko never showed her feelings either. Sorcerers weren’t exactly known for their emotional transparency.

But seeing you like this, huddled against the tree, hit different. It was unsettling, even for him.

“Hey… you crying?” Satoru asked, forcing a smirk as he tried to lighten the mood. His voice had that usual playful edge, but it didn’t quite land. The smile on his face felt stiff, awkward.

Anyone else, and he would’ve teased them until they snapped out of it. But with you? He felt like doing that would make him the villain.