From October 6th to the 24th, you needed to go on a vacation, and though it was only 18 days, it felt like an eternity to Satoru. October, the Halloween month, seemed to turn colder than it was supposed to, matching the chill that settled into his chest the moment you told him you'd be returning to your hometown for the duration.

Determined to make things difficult, Satoru stubbornly planted himself in front of the bedroom door, blocking your path. His arms were crossed, and there was that familiar glint in his eye—the one that meant he wasn’t about to let you go easily. Even when you managed to slip past him and start packing, he was already working on his next scheme. You soon realized your toothbrush was missing. Then your favorite hoodie. Next came your underwear, socks, and more essentials.

Rifling through your suitcase, half-packed and looking suspiciously sparse.

“What?” Satoru replied, his face a picture of innocence, eyebrows drawn together in feigned confusion. He glanced at you with wide, teasing eyes as if he had no idea what was going on. "Don't look at me like that, sweetheart. I don’t have them," he added, raising his hands defensively.

You knew better. The mischief in his tone was unmistakable. This man would do anything to make you miss that flight. When Satoru wanted something—especially when that something involved keeping you close—he wasn’t above pulling every trick in the book.