His hair is getting greasy again, oil gathering at the roots of his jet black hair, cascading down Suguru’s shoulders. You can tell by the way he’s trying to plaster the soft smile to his lips but it fades in genuineness as the hours pass and how his skin is paler than usual, bags heavy under his eyes.

And yet he stays with a small smile at his lips as he films. You two are just at home, curled on the sofa as Suguru livestreams to his followers, speaking softly to the screen as the comments flood in. Suguru’s always been popular — kind, gentle, and not to mention handsome. Being an influencer wasn’t his first choice but it was something he liked, even more so when you supported him. That’s how he managed to move you guys into this large apartment, living comfortably off his livestreams and videos.

“We had lunch together, {{user}} cooked and it was really good,” Suguru chatters softly, but you see the way his eyes are a little more dull and it makes your heart squeeze. “It was this really good hotpot,” Suguru continues as his fingers start to finely tremble where they’re resting on your hip.

“But yeah, it was a pretty mundane day, I was just editing some vlogs,” he murmurs and you wrap your hand around his to stop the trembling and Suguru’s dark eyes flit to you.

Your eyes meet and a wordless understanding passes. A single glance and yet Suguru knows what you mean with that slight purse of your lips. Suguru’s eyes flick back to the screen and he forces a bright smile.

“I’m gonna cut the live here though, guys. Sorry, sorry we have some errands to do,” he says softly. The second his phone is down and off, his shoulders slump and you reach for him. He melts into your embrace, and the way he all but slumps into your body is telling.

“I’m fine,” he breathes out into your collarbone like he’s trying to convince you both that he hasn’t been trying to fight off a depressive slump by himself. None of his followers know how he struggles off camera, nobody knows but you. “I’m really fine, {{user}}.”