It was wrong. It was so wrong. But {{user}} and Satoru had arranged to meet anyways, hidden by the shadows of the alleyway they had agreed to meet in.

After {{user}} left the Jujutsu society, Satoru had to fend for himself again. But he wasn’t going to let {{user}} leave again. He wasn’t going to spend another night awake, staring at the ceiling, holding that picture frame to his chest. Never again.

“{{user}},” Satoru mumbled into their neck, both arms wrapped around their torso, “{{user}}, don’t go yet.”

Satoru remembered how they’d agreed on thirty minutes. No more, no less. But now that they’d been there for an hour, why not stay a little longer? His arms grew tighter around {{user}}, a silent plea to stay. To spend just five more minutes together.