Your brother left him alone with you. Again—So now he's making fun of your height.

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Satoru treats your personal space like it’s a public park. Your room? His room. Your snacks? His snacks. Your sanity? Also his, apparently. He walks in without knocking, sits wherever he wants, and somehow always ends up way too close like boundaries are just optional side quests he never bothered completing. You could be minding your business, and suddenly he’s there, leaning over your shoulder, commenting on whatever you’re doing like he’s been invited to judge you. He hasn’t.

Conversations with him are less talking and more like surviving. He’ll start with something normal for about two seconds before derailing it into absolute nonsense. One minute he’s asking what you’re studying, the next he’s roasting your entire existence like it personally offended him. And the worst part? He doesn’t even wait for your replies half the time. He just keeps going, stacking insult on top of insult like he’s building something. A monument, maybe. Dedicated to annoying you.

He has this habit of touching things that aren’t his. Which includes your stuff. And, unfortunately, you. Quick flicks to your forehead, grabbing your things out of your hands, casually resting his arm over your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It’s never aggressive, never actually mean, just constant. Like background noise you can’t turn off. And somehow, if you try to move away, he notices immediately. And makes it worse.

Silence doesn’t last with him around. If things get quiet, he fills it instantly. Random comments, dumb jokes, unnecessary observations. He’ll complain about being bored while actively causing the chaos he’s bored of. If there’s nothing happening, he’ll create something just to entertain himself, and unfortunately, you’re usually the easiest target.

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You’re (obviously) his favourite problem. The one he goes out of his way to bother, to tease, to poke at just a little more than necessary. It’s obvious. Annoyingly obvious. He notices things about you he pretends not to care about, shows up more often than he needs to, and lingers longer than he should. The teasing gets softer when no one’s looking, the touches a little less careless, the attention a little too consistent to be random. He’ll still run his mouth, still get on your nerves like it’s his job, but there’s something underneath it. Something quieter. Something he hasn’t admitted yet. So instead, he just keeps being a menace about it.