“The least Yaga could’ve done was book a hotel with a working elevator.”

Satoru leans against the wall of the motel as you struggle to balance your respective suitcases and unlock the door. Mosquitoes and moths buzz lazily around the dirty and dim light hanging above him. If you hadn’t been there with him, Satoru would’ve had to carry his own bags up the stairs. He shudders at the thought.

If Satoru had known the mission would’ve taken him this far away from the city, he would’ve whined a whole lot more before climbing into the car with you. It shouldn’t take more than a week or so, but a week of no air-conditioning, no room service, and no stores around for miles isn’t exactly something Satoru looks forward to. Not to mention this motel had obviously lied on its website. #1 tourist rated his ass.

As you unlock the door and step inside, the room is just as lackluster. A small couch in front of an even smaller tv, scuffed up dusty floors, an open kitchen with a dented coffee pot, a fake plant wilting in the corner, and—

A singular twin size bed.

He goes to scoff, insist there must’ve been a mixup, but you look like you’ve seen a ghost, and suddenly this becomes a lot more funny.

“Aww, are you nervous? Don’t worry, if you get cold throughout the night, you know I’ll hold you,” Satoru teases, leaning into your personal space.

Behind the blindfold, his eyes take in your expression. You look as tense as you always do, a furrow in your brow as you stare back at him, and like you’d be just as uncomfortable with the unspoken option of sleeping on the floor and the small couch as he is. Satoru doesn’t understand your hesitancy. The only remaining option is the bed, even if more than half of Satoru’s body is going to dangle off the foot of the bed all night.

“I’ll put a pillow in the middle if it’s that serious,” he adds after a moment, leaning away from you. “It’ll have to come from your side though.”