"You're so stupid." Satoru snaps, his voice sharp, but his touch impossibly gentle as he pulls you against his chest. Around you, the others finish off the cursed spirit, its shrieks drowned out by the pounding in your ears. You can’t move—not with the rubble pinning you down, not with the pain swallowing you whole.

You know he doesn’t mean it. Satoru’s never cruel, not with you. But when you’re bleeding out in his arms, panic frays the edges of his words, making them come out harsher than he intends.

"You’re bleeding too much." His voice wavers, just slightly. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was just supposed to be a stupid hangout—just the two of you, fooling around, laughing. Nobody saw this coming.