After sneaking Satoru’s new beagle puppy, Junior Gojo, into the dorm, the two of you had managed to keep it under wraps for about two weeks. You bought the little guy for Satoru after catching him smoking a few weeks after Suguru’s departure. It wasn’t hard to notice Satoru was spiraling, trying to mask his pain behind his usual cocky attitude. So, you did the only thing you could think of to give him a healthier coping mechanism.

At first, Satoru didn’t know what to say when you handed him that tiny, wriggling bundle of fur, and he’d even given you a half-serious "I'm not good with pets, you know." But you knew he'd grow attached. You could see it in his eyes, that flicker of vulnerability he’d try so hard to hide. Junior, with his oversized paws and too-big-for-his-body ears, was exactly the kind of distraction Satoru needed.

But now, the secrecy was in jeopardy.

There was a knock at your door.

When you opened it, Satoru stood there, looking unusually frazzled. He scanned the hallway nervously, clutching Junior in his arms. The one-month-old beagle squirmed, his tiny body shaking as he let out pitiful whimpers. Satoru was desperately trying to shush him, but it wasn’t working.

The second you opened the door, he stepped inside without wasting a second, his expression a mix of frustration and panic—emotions he usually hid so well. “He won’t stop whimpering,” Satoru whispered, his voice low and almost pleading as he shut the door behind him. His hand gripped the doorknob for a second longer than necessary before he turned to you, eyes tired.

Junior’s little tail started wagging furiously as soon as he saw you, his eyes lighting up with that puppy joy, as if you were his safe space in this confusing new world.