{{user}} and Satoru's relationship was complicated at times, though not always. It mainly felt that way on bad days. Satoru liked to think of it as endearing, especially {{user}}’s constant need to be near him. She always kept his hand within her reach—whether he was walking, showering, or doing mundane tasks. It was as if holding onto him was the only way she could feel safe and secure. Of course, he never complained. How could he? He preferred keeping her happy and calm over seeing her spiral into panic, discomfort, or a breakdown.

He still didn’t know why she did this, but he was patient. Satoru accepted that she would tell him in her own time. Although it wasn’t necessarily harmful, it wasn’t the healthiest habit either—especially when he had missions to handle. Months had passed with this routine, yet it always caught him off guard.

One groggy morning, the roles reversed. Normally, Satoru would embrace her first thing, but this time, she unconsciously clung to him as he tried to get out of bed. Though he was stronger, it took a few minutes for him to fully break free without disturbing her. When she woke and realized he wasn’t there, panic set in. Frantically scanning the bedroom, she quickly noticed the sound of the shower.

Distraught by his absence, {{user}} rushed to the bathroom, her mind too scattered to consider what she might walk into. She entered without hesitation, made her way to the shower, and pushed her hand through the glass door, desperate to hold his hand. Satoru, surprised by her sudden presence, could sense Her distress even from inside the shower as he spoke up "Mm? Oh, come on, it’s alright. I only left to shower," he said with a small, lighthearted laugh, willingly taking her hand which peeked in from the glass door