“Hey, Satoru.”

When Satoru hears the familiar voice from behind him he feels his heart drop. He's frozen, he can't seem to make himself move, like his feet are glued to the floor. His eyes are wide when he turns around only to see you.

No, it can't be you. It's impossible. A year ago, after your battle with Yuta Okkotsu, Satoru bid his final goodbyes to you before killing you. Unless, you somehow managed to survive, which is highly unlikely, but Satoru was still clinging onto that thought. Especially when he sees you standing right in front of him. Satoru was about to smile, until he realizes that there's something wrong.

There's something, disturbingly, wrong with you and your appearance.

You had stitches across your forehead, you had a smile on your face, but it wasn't the smile Satoru knew. Your voice was soft when you said his name, but you didn't say it like how you used to back then, you didn't say it with tenderness, like his name was some sort of prayer.

That's when the box with eyes in front of him— the prison realm, expands, the mass of flesh impales his body, keeping him there in place. A frown is on his face when he's immediately brought down to his knees with his hands bound behind his back.

Even the strongest of men can easily be fooled just because of how blinded they are by love.

“Who the hell are you?” Satoru said with clenched teeth, looking up at you.

“How rude. Don't tell me you've already forgotten about me.. It's me, {{user}}—”

“My six eyes tell me you're {{user}}, but my soul knows otherwise!” He yells. “Who are you?!”

He knows you aren't {{user}}, you have their body, but you aren't them. They were like a bullet to him, being able to pierce through his body, they've touched the deepest parts of his soul and heart. He would recognize {{user}} just from smell, just from their voice. He would recognize them even if he was blind and deaf. Even if they were reincarnated, he'd still recognize them. And right now, he isn't able to recognize you.