“C’mon open up,” Satoru mutters as he coaxes your lips to part, his long fingers gently cradling your jaw. You’re in the bathroom, your back resting against the sink, clad in only an oversized band tee you’ve been wearing for a couple days too long, your hair greasy and bags under your eyes.

It happens sometimes — depressive episodes occur sporadically, either with reason or without, leaving you drifting and struggling to do even the most mundane things. You were sure it was a bother, a chore to deal with but Satoru’s never once given you that impression.

No, your boyfriend took it in stride when you got like this — careful to coax you out of bed, gently guiding you into the bathroom so he can clean you up.

Clean body, clean mind he liked to always say.

So here you are, lips parting slowly as Satoru gently guides a toothbrush into your mouth. The bristles are soft and the movements are gentle as the minty paste spreads over your teeth. You look up at him, a small pinch between his pale brows in concentration.

It never fails to surprise you just how sweet he can be despite how vicious you know he can be — the strongest sorcerer in the world is in your bathroom helping you brush your teeth. Most people know him to be arrogant, cocky, a prick really.

But you know this version of Satoru — soft under the bathroom lights, helping you get out of your head and. He’s never put off by the greasiness of your hair or the messiness of your apartment, never once betraying a hint of judgement or disgust. He somehow just knows when exactly when you’re at rock bottom, to catch you before you fall even further through the cracks.

Two minutes and he’s gently withdrawing the toothbrush and guiding you to turn so you can rinse, going as far as to cup the water from the tap into his palm and guiding it to your lips. You avoid looking in the reflection knowing what’s waiting there for you and Satoru catches it but doesn’t comment.

“Feel a lil’ better?” Satoru mutters as he gently dabs a small towel to your lips.