It started simple. You and Satoru were just coworkers, the kind who exchanged glances during meetings and occasionally shared a laugh during breaks. Slowly, that evolved. Coffee turned into late-night conversations, casual handshakes became playful shoves, and soon enough, you were spending nearly every weekend together. Strangers to coworkers. Coworkers to friends. Friends to... lovers?

Well, not quite.

For months, the lines between friendship and romance blurred into something indescribable. There were nights where he would kiss you softly, ones with more meaning than just friendship. You held hands, used pet names for one another, and there was a certain closeness that felt like more. When you’d playfully call him mine, Satoru never protested. He just smiled.

But whenever anyone asked, Satoru would laugh and introduce you as his “close friend". It was like he didn’t see what you saw—what you felt. It hurt, but you ignored it for a while. After all, Satoru loved you, right? He said it once after an extra glass of sake. Surely, he just needed time.

That assumption shattered one night at a bar when a stranger made the mistake of getting too close to Satoru, flirty remarks spilling out with no shame. You, under the impression that you and Satoru were together, couldn't hold back. The argument quickly escalated, turning physical. Yes, you won, but not without taking a beating yourself.

Afterward, at Satoru’s apartment, you expected something—anything—from him. Gratitude? Concern? A confirmation of what you thought was your relationship?

Instead, he sighed, “You didn’t have to do that, you know. We’re just friends.”

Just... friends? All the nights spent together, all the intimate moments, the laughter, the quiet declarations —was it all in your head?

“Friends?” you repeated, your voice rising in frustration. “Satoru, what was all of this? The late-night kisses? The pet names? I called you mine!”

He looked at you, confused. “I love you, but... I thought we were just friends. Isn’t that what we are?”