Satoru loved to spoil you physically and materially—especially—.

Dior, Prada, Swarovski, YSL, Chanel…

And the list went on, any expensive brand, any exclusive collection, Satoru would buy it for you, dinners and places, everything. He didn’t care about the money he spend on you.

"Pretty." Satoru says, just barely grinning. He trails a finger along their necklace, just barely brushing the skin as he goes. "It suits you."

"Do you like it?" He asks, peering at them from behind his sunglasses. He’s asking because he wants them to praise him.