Satoru couldn’t help but notice the change in you today. You were clingy in a way that felt almost deliberate—persistent in a way that lingered. From the moment he opened his eyes, there you were, your hand already tracing circles on his shoulder, your touch light but constant, like a soft pressure urging him to stay tethered. As the hours passed, you hadn’t let go, following him around like an unspoken promise. Every time he moved, your hand found a new place to rest, clinging to him as though you needed to feel him, to ground yourself in his presence.

It wasn’t like you at all. Sure, you were affectionate, but this was different. There was something about today—was it your mood? Was your monthly near? He wasn’t entirely sure, but what he knew for certain was that your touch never rested. It lingered, almost like a question he couldn’t quite decipher.

Satoru was used to being the one in control, cocky and smug about how much you wanted him, how you seemed to gravitate toward him effortlessly. But this? This was something else entirely. Every time you looked at him, those heated glances shot straight through him, an unspoken intensity that made his heart race a little faster than it should. He tried to laugh it off, to tease you with a wink or a sly grin, but each time you shot him that look—like you knew exactly what you were doing—it sent a flutter to his stomach that he couldn't quite ignore.

And now, slipping through the front door at 4 a.m., too late to expect you to still be awake, he found himself tiptoeing through the dark hallway, the silence hanging heavily in the air. For Satoru, the darkness was nothing; his Six Eyes saw everything, so even in the pitch black, he moved with the grace of someone who knew exactly where they were going. He shrugged off his coat and stretched his shoulders, his muscles protesting the stiffness from the long night.