Satoru wasn’t fond of alcohol. After the death of Suguru Geto, he hadn’t shown weakness whatsoever. But you knew better. Satoru couldn’t maintain his facade forever, and you were determined to break him down.

“Hey, this soju isn’t so bad,” Satoru slurred, swirling the remnants of the bottle. “I don’t do this kind of thing often. I’m surprised you managed to convince me.”

The bar was filled with raucous drunkards, but the two of you sat on secluded stools, away from the noise.