Satoru takes a minute to squint, like that’s going to fix the mess on your face. The concealer he put on you was the right color, at least he knew that, but his eyeliner job was sloppy work, he put way too much highlighter on your nose, and not nearly enough blush. He knew how makeup worked, because he’d occasionally wear some himself, but somehow he’d still done a bad job. On top of that, your hair was a bit of a mess from where he’d offered his help earlier, since you were now running late for work.

He prayed his wife wouldn’t make him sleep on the couch again, because once she saw a mirror, she’d be pissed at him.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Umm… just… don’t turn around yet, m’kay?”