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Three Times Satoru Thought He Saw Suguru and the One Time He Did
The 1st Time - December 24th. The First Anniversary of Suguru’s Death
Sometimes, the pain comes in passing. It strikes you in your chest the way a knight might slice away at an enemy as he rides swiftly by on horseback. It leaves you in shock, heart beating fast, and you turn thinking that you might catch sight of him. He is not there.
Suguru.
I would know him anywhere. This is not him, not his energy. That was his hair, though. I am sure of it. The shine and the length. The style. That was not his smell. No sandalwood. No vanilla. No soap. That was not his soul.
No matter. It is his anniversary, their anniversary, so perhaps it is my mind playing foul games with me. Someone who just looks like him from behind. It is not him.
Satoru keeps walking, a bouquet of flowers in one hand as he continues walking back towards the school.
“Suguru.”
The 2nd Time - At Lunch with Shoko
Shoko has grown accustomed to students and staff alike coming to her for anything that might heal their sleeping ailments. She herself is so tired of not being able to help beyond giving them what they ask for and being there when they realize that they might never sleep peacefully for the rest of their lives.
Shoko and Satoru both remember Suguru. Shoko remembers his body in the morgue. She remembers how tattered and disheveled he was as he lay dead on her table. It does not keep her awake anymore, she does not dream at all anymore. Satoru is different. He still dreams. He remembers the way that he killed Suguru. They both hold on to memories of their youth, hating that all they have left is memories. Hating that it was perhaps never their youth at all. They were all too valuable to the elders. Their lives were never their own, especially not after coming to Jujutsu Tech. They lean on one another, perhaps not so obviously, but they do.
Satoru stops by Shoko’s office every now and again, pretending to be there to bother her or ask about a student. Today, it is to sweep her away to lunch off-campus. It is easier to not think of Suguru when they are not in the place they came to know him in life and see him in death.
“The mochi from that shop over there is incredible!” Satoru walks ahead of Shoko with his hands in the smooth pockets of his jacket. His strides are long and his steps are silent. “They have a guava flavor that-”, he turns swiftly to face her and suddenly freezes. Shoko slams into his chest.
“Satoru, you can’t just stop in the middle of-”
“Suguru.”
“What?” Shoko turns too, staring in line with where Satoru looks off into the distance. “He isn't here, Satoru. He’s gone.”
“You’re right. It couldn’t have been, but he was identical.” He still hasn’t stopped staring. Shoko turns back to him.
“Let’s just go.” And so they do. Satoru buys his mochi and Shoko thinks about how Suguru used to accept treats despite his own dislike for sweets just to take them back home for Satoru.
She dreams that night about when they used to receive lessons and train and believe that they would face the world together. Satoru and Suguru, at least. She would always be there to support them, be the level-headed one among the group. She dreams of Suguru on the grounds, still alive, and teaching. Training. Suguru was one of the strongest men she had ever known and she had to work with him in her morgue. She wakes up in a cold sweat. She is awake when Satoru calls her.
Satoru dreams of Suguru often. He dreams of the first time they kissed. He dreams of the first time they went on a mission together. He dreams of lunch dates and beach trips taken as attempts of normalcy among the missions they went on. He dreams of Suguru covered in blood, still smiling despite the sensation of his life leaving him little by little as he leaned against the wall. Satoru dreams of their final words to one another. He always wakes up panting.
Sometimes, the pain builds up all day and makes you feel full. It comes in the burning sensation Satoru feels as he hunches over the toilet with his bathroom’s fluorescent light reflecting off of the tiles and everything around him and as Shoko stands just outside with water and pills and her mouth in a taut line as she curses the love that the world ruined.
“I know who I saw. I know it was not him. Why do I keep wishing it was him?”
The 3rd Time - In His Bedroom
Satoru does not spend much time indulging in any particular hobby, but the sound system he has set up in his bedroom comforts him when he plays the records and tapes that he and Suguru used to listen to as they laid on the floor of their dorms. The records are not exactly pristine, some of them skip every now and again, but the music and the memories do not change. Side B of “Louder Than Bombs” lulls Satoru to sleep every now and again. It soothes better than pills. The music holds him, smooths his hair, pulls him close. Satoru wakes up to see Suguru holding him now. He wishes he could feel the warmth. Smell his conditioner. He looked so clear. But Satoru blinks and when he opens his eyes, Suguru is gone.
Sometimes the pain exists as a dull ache that dampens your mood for an entire day. Week. Month.
The Last Time -
“Suguru.”
“Satoru.”
Infinity. The strongest, torn apart in life and brought together again in death. He sees him infinitely. The pain is gone.