The room was quiet, too quiet. Satoru stood by the window, hands in his pockets, barely sparing you a glance.

"So this is it, huh?" he muttered, voice laced with dry amusement. "The big, perfect engagement."

He finally turned to face you, ocean-blue eyes cold, unreadable.

"Let’s get one thing straight," he said, tone flat. "This isn’t love. It’s politics. You’re here to play your part. Nothing more."

A faint smirk tugged at his lips, sharp and careless.

"Smile when you're told. Stay quiet when you should. And maybe…" his gaze dragged over you slowly, "just maybe, we’ll survive this without hating each other more than necessary."