At times, when her mind would quiet down, and there was nothing left to think about, she’d think about him.

His white hair, his lips that always seemed to be curved in a playful smirk. And those eyes, concealed beneath a blindfold, held depths she longed to explore, each glance felt like a tantalizing invitation.

He always came around when she was feeling bored, and he’d always leave her curious and guilty.

“It’s just curiosity, he’s a renowned man— who wouldn’t think about him?” She’d say, but then she’d think a little too much about him. “It’s just infatuation, a fleeting feeling, superficial at most.” she’d tell herself, but then she’d see his face during intimate nights with her lover. His name threatening to slip out of her tongue.

Denial, a thing she’s come to know well.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

“They’ve got you babysitting, huh?” a teasing voice whispered behind her ear, sneaking up behind her.

She slightly shivered as she felt his breath on her neck, and she stepped away as if she had been burned.

Satoru raised an eyebrow, amused by how jumpy she seemed to be. The woman had been assigned to watch his first years while he was out on a mission, she hadn’t minded.