Satoru tilts his head, his breath warm against your cheek as he closes the distance between you. The cramped space leaves no room for modesty—your bodies are pressed together in a way that makes your pulse quicken. You feel the curve of his smile before you see it, that infuriatingly amused expression lighting up his face despite the dire circumstances.

"Well, isn't this nice?" He purrs, the smirk evident in his voice as his hand slides to your waist. With practiced ease, he shifts you sideways, his grip deceptively gentle. Then—the sudden absence of his infinity makes your stomach drop as you tumble forward, caught effortlessly in the circle of his arms. The transition is so smooth you wonder if he planned this all along.