He was content. Or something close enough to it. Zaniya was happy, and he could play the role everyone expected of him without much effort. It was easy.

He hadn’t seen her properly in months. Months of missed conversations. Months of keeping his distance. Months of telling himself that everything would eventually return to normal.

His first instinct was the same one he’d had since they were children: go to her. Tease her. Act like nothing had changed.

His gaze flickered back toward Y/n across the room, just for a moment.

And with that thought settled in his mind, Satoru turned back toward his wife—completely unaware that the person he’d spent his entire life assuming would always wait for him might already be walking away.