Work Text:
Satoru always thought you were just… a little distant.
Not cold. Not uninterested. Just the kind of person who didn’t lean in first, who stayed a step out of reach like it was second nature.
Until you didn’t lean in at all.
He didn’t mind it at first. He filled the space easily, all light smiles and lingering touches, the kind of affection that came as naturally as him breathing.
You laughed, you stayed, you let him.
Just not all the way.
It took him longer than it should have to notice the pattern.
The way you flinched when he grabbed your wrist too quickly, even if you covered it up with a joke right after.
The way your shoulders went tight when he hugged you, like you were bracing for something instead of melting into it.
The way you always… always found a reason to shift just out of reach.
So he let it go.
Until it started to feel like he was the only one reaching.
Like he was pressing his hands against a glass wall, and you were just standing on the other side of it, even then, at a distance.
He tried to not think about it. Tried to laugh it off, same as you did.
But it stuck. Quietly. Persistently.
God… did you even like him?
The thought lingered longer than he wanted to admit.
Especially now, when he drops down onto the couch beside you and feels it immediately. The shift. The tension. It’s subtle, but there.
He hasn’t even touched you with the tip of his finger.
Yet… you still tensed.
Satoru pauses, watching you from the corner of his eye, something unreadable flickering behind his usual ease.
“…What, you allergic to me or something?” He jokes, light and careless. Because of course he does.
He says it like it doesn’t matter. Like he hasn’t been noticing everything.
You huff a quiet laugh, not even looking at him. “Please. Your ego’s not that fragile, is it?”
There it is. The automatic, easy, deflection, wrapped in humor.
Usually, that’s enough. But this time, it isn’t.
Satoru doesn’t laugh.
The silence stretches just a second too long.
“…You do that every time,” he mutters.
You blink, finally glancing at him. “Do what?”
“That.” His tone isn’t sharp, but it’s not light either. “You joke, and then you move away, and then you act like I imagined it.”
“I don’t.” You start, already shaking your head. “You’re reading into things again.”
“Am i?”
You shrug, forcing a smile. “You are.”
Another beat of silence. It feels heavier now.
“I can’t even sit next to you,” he says quietly. “You tense up before I even touch you.”
Your stomach drops.
“Satoru-“
“Did i do something?” He cuts in, and there it is. Something raw under his tone. “Because if i did, just tell me. I’ll fix it.”
“You didn’t do anything,” you reply, a little too quickly. “Look. I told you it’s fine-“
“Then why won’t you let me near you?”
The question lands harder than it should.
You stand up abruptly. “Oh my god, why are you making this into a thing?”
“Because it is a thing.”
“No, it’s not!” You snap, turning away from him. “You’re just… clingy, okay? Not everyone likes being all over each other all the time.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it?” You fire back, spinning around, frustration spilling over. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to be honest with me.”
Your chest tightens.
“I am honest-“
“No, you’re not.”
The words hit clean. Direct.
They make you freeze up.
“Every time I get close, you pull away,” he says, even quieter now. But that makes it worse. He’s not accusatory, he’s hurt. “And you smile like it didn’t happen. Like I’m supposed to just ignore it.”
“I just don’t like being touched that much,” you say, the sentence coming out rehearsed. Safe.
Satoru takes a step closer.
You tense.
It’s small, barely anything.
But it’s enough for everything to go still.
“…Don’t,” you say immediately, breath catching. “Don’t come closer.”
He freezes.
“I didn’t even-“
“I said don’t!” Your voice cracks, sharp and panicked now, nothing like before. “Just- stay there, okay? Just stay there.”
Silence crashes between you. Satoru doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, neither do you.
He’s almost as tense as you are.
And somehow that makes it worse.
Your breathing starts to unravel, too fast, too uneven.
“I’m not doing anything,” you say, but your voice is shaky now, words tripping over each other. “You’re just- You’re making it into something bigger than it is, it’s not… it’s not a big deal, I’m fine!”
“You’re not fine.”
“I am!”
“You’re shaking.”
“Because-“ You stop.
Because what…? How… how can you tell him?
Your hands come up, pressing against your temples like you can force the thoughts back in.
“I just don’t like it,” you try again, weaker now. “I just don’t, okay? It’s not-“
“Did something happen?”
The question is quiet, careful. But it hits like a dropped weight.
Your breath stutters.
“No.”
Too fast.
Satoru doesn’t move “Look at me.”
“I said no.” You snap, but you’re cracking now, splintering apart at the edges.
“Hey.” He tries again, softer this time. “Look at me.”
You do. And that’s a mistake.
Because he’s not annoyed. Not frustrated. He looks… worried.
Like he’s been piecing the puzzle together. And your reaction just handed him the last piece.
Your throat tightens.
“I… I didn’t tell you because it’s stupid,” you say, way too fast, the words slipping out before you can stop them. “It’s not even… It’s nothi-“
You cut yourself off, like the sentence burned on your tongue, set your throat in flames.
Satoru goes still. “…What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” You shake your head quickly. Of course you do. “Forget it.”
“You can tell me.”
“I can’t.”
That one comes out small. Honest. Terrified.
Your hands are shaking, fingers curling into your sleeves like you’re trying to hold yourself together.
“I thought… it would just go away.” You start, voice small, already breaking. “I thought if i just ignored it, it would stop, but it doesn’t- it doesn’t-“
Your breath stutters, sharp and uneven.
“When you touch me I don’t feel like I’m here,” you blurt out, words crashing over one another. “I feel like I’m back there and I can’t- I can’t get out of it.”
“I know you’re not him,” You say quickly, almost frantic. “I know that, I know you’re not him, but it still- my body just-“
You choke on the rest.
Your hands come up, dragging over your arms like you’re trying to wipe something off.
“It feels wrong,” you whisper, shaking your head. “It feels… dirty. Like it’s still there.”
Satoru doesn’t move. Doesn’t interrupt.
And the silence lets everything get louder.
“I hate it,” you say, louder now, your voice cracking open. “I hate it so much. I can still feel it sometimes, like it didn’t even- like it never… stopped.”
Your breathing breaks completely, turning into something ragged and panicked. Your shoulders curl inward, like you’re trying to disappear into yourself.
Satoru’s gaze softens. “Hey… slow down, I’’m right here.”
You take in a single deep breath. Not that it helped much.
“I feel disgusting,” you choke out, the word tearing on the way up. “I know it’s not supposed to be me, I know that, but it feels like it is- like there’s something wrong with me for letting it happen-“
Satoru’s voice is quiet, careful, calculated. “Y/n… it wasn’t your f-“
“I should have stopped it!” You snap suddenly, the panic twisting into something sharper, harsher. “I should’ve done something, I should’ve… I don’t know! I just-“
Your voice collapses again, weaker now, shaking.
“I didn’t,” you whisper. “I didn’t, and now it just… sticks.”
Your hands press hard against your arms again, like you can scrub the feeling out with sheer force.
“I can’t stand being touched sometimes,” you admit, quieter now. “It makes me feel… filthy. Like it’s still there, like i can’t wash it off, like it’s under my skin.”
You laughed, but it comes out wrecked, barely recognizable.
“And it’s so stupid… because it’s not even-“ You shake your head, tears spilling faster. “It’s not even you, it’s me. I’m the one who’s-“
You swallow hard.
“-disgusting.”
Silence.
Thick, heavy, silence.
“Don’t do that…” Satoru mutters quietly, it’s painful to listen to you say things like that about yourself. “Don’t blame yourself.”
You exhaled deeply, but it was shaky.
“I know how it sounds… I know you think it’s not my fault… I know it’s not logical. I know that… but I can’t make it go away, I can’t make it feel different…”
Your voice drops, smaller, fragile. “I don’t feel like me anymore.”
Your fingers tighten around your sleeves.
“I feel ruined,” you whisper. “Like something got… messed up, and i can’t fix it.”
Your breathing stutters again, and the next words barely make it out.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
A pause.
“I didn’t want you to realize I’m-“
You can’t even finish it.
You plop back down on the couch, your whole body folds in on itself, like it’s too much to hold.
“I’m sorry,” you choke. “I’m trying, I just… I can’t-“
For a second there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing falling apart.
Satoru doesn’t move. Not closer. Not away. He stays right where he is, just… there.
“I’m here,” he says quietly.
It’s not loud, it’s not rushed. But steady, like he’s placing the words carefully between you instead of throwing them at you.
You shake your head, still curled in on yourself. “Don’t… don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like that,” you choke. “Like I’m…”
You stop.
His voice comes softer this time. “Like I care about you?”
That makes something in your chest twist painfully.
“You shouldn’t,” you mutter, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
There’s a pause.
Then, a little firmer:
“Yeah. I should. And I do.”
It’s not forceful. Just certain.
You let out a broken laugh, dragging your sleeve across your face. “You don’t get it-“
“Then help me get it.”
You glance at him, startled.
He wants to understand…
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, quieter now. “So you don’t have to rush. You don’t have to explain it perfectly. You don’t have to…” he exhales softly. “…tear yourself apart trying to make it make sense.”
Your hands ball up into fists around your sleeves.
“I already am,” you whisper.
His expression shifts, something pained flickering across it.
“Hey,” he says gently, just enough to pull your attention back to him. “Don’t say that like it’s a given.”
“It is,” you insist weakly. ”You heard me… I feel-“
“I heard you,” he cuts in softly. “That doesn’t mean it’s true.”
You go quiet.
Because he’s not dismissing you.
He’s just… refusing to let you destroy yourself with it.
“I’m not him.”
The words are simple.
Careful.
They land between you, not heavy, but solid.
Your breath stutters again.
“I know,” You say quickly. “I know that, I just…”
“You don’t have to prove that to me,” he says. “Or force yourself to be okay with something you’re not okay with,”
Silence settles again, but it’s different now.
Less sharp.
More… fragile.
“Can I sit here?” He asks quietly, nodding to the space beside you.
You hesitate.
Then give the smallest nod.
He sits down slowly, leaving space between you. Not touching. Not reaching.
Just there.
“I’m not gonna touch you,” he says, almost like a promise. “Not unless you want me to.”
Your shoulders loosen, just barely.
“I don’t expect anything from you,” he continues. “You don’t have to act normal. You don’t have to push through it for me.”
Your eyes burn again.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to survive me.”
That breaks something soft in you.
“I don’t,” you whisper, voice trembling. “I just don’t know how to-”
“That’s okay.”
The answer comes immediately. Too easily. Like he’s already decided that.
“We’ll figure it out.” He adds, quieter now. “At your pace. Not mine.”
You press your lips together, trying to steady your breathing.
For a while, neither of you speak.
He just stays there.
Close enough that you’re not alone. Far enough that you can breathe.
“Satoru…?”
“Yeah?”
Your fingers twitch slightly against your sleeves.
“Can you-“ you hesitate, swallowing hard. “Can you hold my hand?”
He stills for half a second.
A little surprised. Mostly just… careful.
He nods, but doesn’t reach right away.
Gives you time to pull back if you want to.
When you don’t, he slowly turns his hand over, resting it on the couch between you. Open. Waiting.
You look at it like it’s something fragile.
Then, slowly…
You extend your hand, lacing your fingers with his.
His grip is light.
Gentle.
Nothing like-
Your breath hitches. But you don’t pull away.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs.
And this time, it doesn’t feel like something you have to run from.