Satoru lets himself into your dorm like he always does most evenings, only this time, he finds you slumped over your desk, an absolute mess. It’s embarrassing, really.

Your tear stained cheek pressed to a smudged sheet of paper, your hair gathered in a lopsided updo you don’t even have a name for, and your desk as wrecked and scattered as your thoughts. You’ve given up completely. You were totally gonna fail and you couldn’t do shit about it.

Satoru gasps when he sees you—loud and almost theatrical but in a flash he’s hauling you upright, jolting you out of your fog. You hadn’t even noticed him come in, too lost in your own out of control thoughts but at least it wasn’t your roommate who caught you in this state, you think. But maybe… your boyfriend is worse.

“Babyyyy, what the hell?!” His tone is so frantic you’d think he was the one having a meltdown, not you. “Why didn’t you call me?” and you only manage a wet sniffle, groaning in frustration as you try to slump down. He tuts disapprovingly and pulls you back up again. Then, without warning, he scoops you up with ridiculous ease and deposits you onto your bed.

He barely reacts to your whining, settling above you and bracing himself on his elbows. “You have a perfectly capable and intelligent boyfriend.” you scoff, but he presses on, “Why didn’t you call him?” he sounds almost angry.

Your lip trembles before you can stop it, and you turn your face away without answering. You hate asking for his help, even when you need it and especially when it just makes you look dumb. Satoru exhales, his expression softening out of the corner of your eye. “This bad, huh? c’mon then…let’s take a break, hm?”