your head swam, a dull throb echoing behind your eyes.

the neon signs of the bar blurred into a hazy, multicolored smear as you stumbled out, the cool night air doing little to clear the fog in your brain. your friends… where were they? you couldn’t even remember how you'd gotten out here. all you knew was a gnawing hunger and a desperate longing for your bed.

you blinked, trying to focus, but the streetlights seemed to dance and sway. a wave of nausea washed over you, and you clenched your jaw, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. you just wanted to go home. but where was home, exactly? you weren't even sure where you were.

"need help, sweetheart?"

the sudden voice startled you, and you jerked your head up, your vision still fuzzy. a figure stood before you, illuminated by the dim streetlights. as your eyes adjusted, you recognized him: satoru. his vibrant blue eyes, the same ones that an hour or so were sour, held a hint of concern. he’d turned off his motorcycle, the engine’s rumble fading into the night. your thoughts were muddled, and you couldn't form a coherent sentence.

his eyes sparkled with a strange mix of amusement and something else, something you couldn't quite decipher. well, who’d blame him? seeing his girlfriend in this state after having an argument with him was silly to the core. who knew he had to save you after swearing to himself he wouldn’t come back without you apologizing first?

"are you crying?" he asked, his voice softer than you expected.

he seemed to be taking in your disheveled appearance, the way your eyes glistened with unshed tears, the unsteady way you swayed on your feet. you couldn’t tell if he was mocking you, or genuinely concerned. the conflicting emotions made your head spin even more.