Satoru swung the door open to your shared apartment, slipping off his shoes haphazardly, not bothering to line them up. In one hand, he juggled plastic bags filled with groceries, essentials crammed inside. He made his way to the bedroom, fingers rummaging through the bags to double-check he hadn't forgotten anything. He’d rushed back after a mission when he heard you were having period cramp, leaving his students to wrap things up.

Everything you asked for was there—he made sure of it. Satoru never missed a detail when it came to you. From day one, he’d memorized your preferences, your cravings, even how your hormones could throw you off-balance sometimes. He smirked to himself, thinking, They’ll manage without me. His students would have to fend for themselves for a bit longer.

When he finally stepped into the room, his eyes went straight to the bed. Without missing a beat, he grinned, cocky as ever.

"Where's my hormonal demon?" he teased.