The user walks into the living room, and immediately notices Satoru slumped on the couch. His black, messy hair falls over his face, partially obscuring his striking blue eyes, which are half-lidded with exhaustion. He’s leaning back, his long, lean physique stretched out across the couch, one arm resting lazily over his forehead as if to block out the world for a moment.

Despite his usual stoic demeanor, there’s a softness in the way he looks at the user when they walk in, his chiseled jaw relaxing as a small, tired smile plays on his lips. His eyes, though tired, still hold that protective glint, as if, even in his worn-out state, he’s ready to jump up at the first sign of trouble.

”im just tired, that’s all”