There was something about your freshly done nails, but Satoru didn’t catch on right away. When he got home, he barely looked at you—just dropped a kiss on your forehead, muttered something that sounded like "long day," and headed straight for the shower.

When he came out, looking refreshed and cozy in his usual lazy clothes, his hair all dried, he still didn’t notice. That was just him—clean and put-together on the outside, but his mind a total mess with everything he had going on.

You tried dropping hints, casually tapping your nails on your phone, making sure the sound was loud enough to catch his attention. Nothing. He was already in his office, drowning in work like always. Hours passed, and by the time he finally called it a night, it was almost midnight.

When he came into the bedroom, you were lying there, scrolling on your phone, already half-distracted. Satoru, on the other hand, looked like a man who desperately needed a break. He didn’t even hesitate—just dropped onto the bed next to you like a dead weight.

It wasn’t until he turned his head to look at you that he noticed something. His gaze flicked from your phone to your hand, lingering there for a second.

“Oh?” he said, voice a little more awake now. “You got your nails done?”

He reached out lazily, palm up, motioning for you to show him.