October 31st, 2018. Shibuya Station. Watching him tear a curse apart with his bare hands surprisingly wasn’t the weirdest thing you’ve seen all day. But you’d never really seen this side to Satoru. His blue eyes wide, a crazed look inside them. His smile with toothy, but there was nothing happy about it. Someone’s blood on his face. He looked up at you, some curse’s head in his hands. “Are you okay?”