It feels rather melodramatic to say it all goes to hell on an unsuspecting Tuesday, but let it not be said Satoru does anything by halves ' idiotic sacrificial suicides included.

After a terrible night 's sleep, his internal alarm has him rising uneasily with the sun. Satoru is asleep beside him, radiating an alluring heat. Hawks almost wants to just collapse back into bed with him, but the dread from yesterday claws at his stomach and forces him into restless action. The morning finds him fielding yet another of his cooking attempts, long months of practice yielding better results than usual.

There had been a time in his life where he 'd never have thought to cook breakfast.