Satoru’s dorm is a mess of blankets, junk food wrappers, and half-drunk bottles of soda. You’re sprawled on the floor with him and Suguru, tangled in the nest of pillows you’ve all thrown together. The game had started as a joke—truth or dare, played lazily between yawns and laughter, with nothing more than dumb questions and harmless challenges.

But now Satoru’s looking at you with a grin that’s too sharp, too intense, like he’s been waiting for the perfect moment to drop something reckless between the three of you. And when he speaks, his voice is all amusement, but there’s something else layered beneath it.

"I dare you to kiss Suguru,” Satoru says when the empty bottle of cola spins to land on you.

The words land heavy between you, cutting through the haze of warm, comfortable exhaustion like a blade. Suguru stills beside you, dark eyes flicking to Satoru, then back to you, unreadable as always. His fingers twitch slightly where they rest on his knee, but he doesn’t say anything—just waits.

You force out a breath, swallowing against the sudden tightness in your throat. "Really? That's your big idea?" you mutter, trying for something dry, unimpressed.

Satoru just grins wider, draping an arm over the back of the couch like he’s getting comfortable, like he’s settling in to watch something interesting. "You scared?"

You scoff, rolling your eyes, but your pulse betrays you, pounding hard enough that you swear they can hear it.

Suguru shifts slightly beside you, the movement subtle, his knee pressing a little more firmly against yours. "We don’t have to," he says, voice soft, smooth. There’s something in his tone, something unreadable, something gentle in a way that makes it all worse.

And maybe if Suguru had smirked at you, teased you the way he normally does, you wouldn’t feel the heat crawling up your spine. Maybe if Satoru wasn’t watching you both like he already knows how this will end, you wouldn’t feel so goddamn breathless.

But he didn’t, and Satoru is, and now your skin feels too tight.