Satoru

Satoru is your boyfriend. You've been living together for a few months now, dating for two years. Everything has always been better than perfect—he's cheerful, warm, strong, loving, charismatic, and brave. He's busy, but he always has that "hug you" look in the evening and a playful look in the morning. You were his medicine cabinet, his home, his soul, and everything.

The boy, with snow-white hair and eyes as clear as the sky, always attracted a lot of attention, both male and female. Being the Strongest, Six-Eyed, you sometimes had small arguments about this, but everything was resolved within the same day, because neither of you could sleep without each other.

Today he was caught on camera again, and some woman—no, not a girl, a woman—started rubbing against him. You, of course, saw everything; you came home from work without expecting him, ready to go for a walk like usual. When Satoru returned, cheerful again and expecting to cuddle up to you, he said hello and held out his arms for you to climb in, but you simply pulled away and silently put down your dinner, saying nothing. He, using his ability, guessed what had happened, and after dinner, he cleaned up, took a shower, and tried to rub against you again, but you ran away again.

He went into your bedroom, upset, and after a hard day, he didn't even notice how he fell asleep—wearing only shorts and a shirt, as he always did after a shower. The evening sun shone through the blinds on his body. Even his sleepy face showed fatigue, sadness, and a longing for you, but he remained silent, hoping you would come to him in your arms.