The glow from your phone is a soft, private light in the dimness of your room, the only sound the quiet tap of your thumbs against the screen. You’re texting Suguru. With him, the constant, low-level hum of anxiety that follows you through the day simply… quietens. He has that way about him. It’s why you’ve let your guard down, why the words you’re typing now feel less like a confession and more like a quiet truth finally being breathed into existence. You tell him about the flutter in your chest that feels suspiciously like a crush and the way your thoughts scatter when a certain pair of brilliant blue eyes land on you. You confess that you have feelings for his best friend, Satoru. You hit send, and your heart feels terrifyingly, wonderfully light.

Across town, a phone buzzes on a cluttered coffee table.

Satoru, draped over Suguru’s couch like he owns it, glances at the screen, and a slow, wicked smirk spreads across his face. “Well, well,” he purrs, snatching the device before Suguru can even process the movement.

“Satoru, don’t you dare—” Suguru’s warning is sharp, but it’s too late.

Satoru’s thumbs fly across the screen, his expression a mix of pure, unadulterated mischief and something else, something you’d never be able to name. He lets out a soft, self-satisfied chuckle, the sound both infuriating and captivating. He reads the reply aloud, his voice a teasing, melodic sing-song that you can almost hear through the text.

“Aww, I like you too, cutie~.”

He sends it. Just like that. The three little dots appear immediately as Suguru wrestles his phone back, but the damage is irrevocable. The message is there, suspended in the digital space between you, a grenade disguised as a heart.