It had become a frequent, almost routine annoyance: Satoru’s blindfold kept going missing. The first couple of times, he didn’t give it much thought. Sure, he suspected someone was messing with his things—maybe even stealing them—but he could always buy another, and with his packed schedule, hunting down the culprit wasn’t a top priority. They didn’t seem to have any malicious intent, either, but he wasn’t a fan of being toyed with.

Training was supposed to be his escape, a time to clear his mind and release some tension. He trained every day, technically, but every so often he craved something that made him break a real sweat. Lately, though, whenever he stored his blindfold in the school’s training room locker, it vanished like clockwork. After it disappeared a second time, he only smirked to himself, mentally narrowing down his list of suspects. Whoever was trying to play games with him clearly didn’t know he’d play right back.

So, he set a trap—a little mouse trap in his training locker—and went through a light session, feeling the familiar adrenaline thrumming under his skin as he smirked to himself. By the time he checked, the blindfold was gone again, as expected. This was getting interesting.

Today, after finishing his missions, Satoru returned to the school for the endless meetings and reports he still had to submit. He changed into his training clothes, deciding today was a good day for some judo practice. Whoever was doing this had skill; they knew how to mask their cursed technique. But he’d make sure they were in for a surprise.

He trained as usual, letting his mind drift, until he heard a faint rustling outside the training room. Bingo.

With a relaxed but deliberate stride, he made his way over, flinging the door open with a grin stretching across his face.

“Ah, what’s this?” he said, his voice full of playful menace as he crossed his arms, giving you a slow, amused once-over. “Looks like someone’s finally caught in the act.”