"Okay— okay. It's my turn, now." Satoru chuckles, taking your hands in his own; deactivating his infinity just to hold your hands.

His hands were littered with small doodles, a colourful but creative gift from you.

He took a pen, gently pressing it on the back of your hand, drawing something.

He was good at almost everything, keyword: almost. He was.. really bad at drawing.