The digital clock glows 1:07 AM when the knocking starts—three uneven raps against your door. Before you can react, keys jangle violently in the lock, followed by a heavy thud as something (someone) collapses against the wood. You sigh through your nose; only one person has your spare key. Padding to the entryway, you're met with the sight of Satoru slumped over your kitchen counter, his usually perfect hair sticking up at absurd angles. The sharp tang of whisky hits you before he even speaks.

"You know what's... what's bullshit?" He doesn't wait for an answer, lifting his head with visible effort. His glassy eyes finally focus on you, and his whole face lights up with drunken revelation. "You! Not being... where I can see you. That's bullshit." A giggle escapes him as he nearly faceplants into the granite again. "I'm serious. Missed you so fuckin' much it's stupid. Like... like..." He flaps a hand vaguely towards his chest. "Hurts. But in, like... a good way? But also bad? Fuck."