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That night was warm, with the moon high up in the sky. Suguru thought it was a pretty charming sight. Silver light danced around the landscape, kissing his feet where he stood, watching on the wooden balcony that belonged to his room.
Sometimes, while observing, he liked to carry out an analysis of sorts. Focus on things surrounding him and simply feel them.
It was that one thing he preferred to do, to somewhat calm his mind. Losing oneself in running away from the storm, raging inside him. He didn’t exactly expect anyone to understand it, for neither did he. It just aided in dealing with some situations in his teen life.
That seemed to be enough. Or was it?
Constantly thinking about missions and their consequences impacted his young mind, and Getou could not deny it. But such contemplating was truly tiresome, leaving him exhausted after many sleepless nights.
Overthinking. What a bitch it was.
Simple spacing out was not so effective in dealing with a problem as such, so he decided to do the exact opposite. And somehow, it worked sometimes. Perhaps it was a temporary solution, but its effort partly paid off, allowing him to cope with himself, as he focused on everything but a miserable issue that he had.
The problem, he wasn't ready to share with anyone yet.
Dark thoughts left him speechless and terrified of a shadow lurking deep inside, spreading its roots. There were moments when It whispered to him, louder and louder. He felt uncertain of what to do.
Though it could be much worse, he tried to convince himself.
Feeling hopeless wouldn’t do any good, not in the world he lived in. He was sure he wasn’t the only one but envied those who somehow found their resolve to shutting out all their “unnecessary” feelings while doing all the deeds that sorcerers ought to. And while dealing with the aftermath.
It kind of imprinted some self-loathing on Suguru, though he still was too scared to admit it. Even if recognized as quite a strong figure at his age, the young man couldn’t help, but feel weak. He hated it. From the bottom of his heart.
Getou’s fingers tightened around the wooden barrier of the balcony, keeping it in a strong grip, yet careful not to break it. A deep scowl appeared on his face. He grimaced.
The realization dawned on him. Shit, he was back at it again.
Most of the time he’s got a distraction taking the form of the one and only Gojo Satoru, as well as his other companions, including even Principal Yaga. But the smell of Shoko’s cigarettes or the endless chatter of his beloved friend wasn’t present at the moment, the assurance he needed to keep these thoughts away.
Realistically speaking- how long could he lie to himself? What was the limit to his fake composure? Besides, he didn’t want to worry others. Or to be more exact, Getou didn’t want to show how fragile he actually was. A puny sight to look at. Would they stop relying on him the moment they see it? Deem him unworthy?
Frail and feeble, whispered the voice.
Disgusting.
Fuck.
“You really are just a sorrowful child,” he thought, biting his lip, metallic bitterness spreading on his tongue.
Right at this moment a quiet, almost hesitant knocking resonated through the room, alerting Suguru. Before he turned around to walk up to the entrance and answer, the door opened creaking unpleasantly. He really should oil its hinges.
“You hadn’t had your door closed? How irresponsible of you! What if a curse that only gets you if your entry is unlocked appeared here, huh? What then?”
And as his inner monologue never happened, a soft smile appeared on his tired face. Letting go of the barrier, he strode into his dorm.
“I highly doubt it, Satoru. Also, that would be a fairly stupid condition, I think.”
Gojo closed the door and then spun around with a hand raised, accusingly pointing a finger in Geto’s direction.
“But you never know! Listen to me, or one day you find yourself with a curse nibbling at your toes in your sleep!" He moved his fingers in this weird way, till they looked almost like a bunch of worms.
Smirking, Getou thought that maybe he could indulge him for a bit. Putting his hands in the pockets of his joggers, he shifted weight from leg to leg, previous tension leaving his body.
“Keep up the narrative and I’ll start to think that you might have developed a foot fetish of some sort.”
Gasping, Satoru, dramatic as ever, started to theatrically flail his arms around, to then clutch at his stomach, as if he was stabbed. He made some funny faces in the process, huffing, and puffing, obnoxiously playing the role of an aggrieved person.
It caused Suguru to giggle.
“You wound me! But I have to admit, your jokes are getting better every day. I'm proud.”
Ending his antics, Satoru straightened up, figure tall and lean. He was dressed in comfortable shorts and a T-shirt with his favourite Pokemon imprinted on it, which Suguru gifted him recently. His friend looked quite cosy, Getou thought.
Satoru’s eyes lingered on his silhouette, expression changing to something more serious, yet simultaneously soft.
“Couldn’t sleep?”
It was rare to see Satoru so quiet and not in his usual, bratty mood. The question asked just moments ago was laced with some deep understanding, the gravity of the situation seemingly known to a young man.
Getou couldn't help, but sight. Suddenly he felt much older than he was.
“Is it that obvious?”
The white-haired teenager snorted, shaking his head as if offended.
“Please, I know you like the back of my hand.”
Getou couldn’t comprehend why it stung in the way it did. " You don't know jack shit," he wanted to say - " and I'm not the person you think I am ".
"You would despise me if you knew ".
He found himself unable to face Satoru at the moment. He tilted his head down, trying to shift his focus on the wooden flooring as if it was currently the most interesting thing in his room.
In the process, Getou noticed that his bun came undone. It was messy, with some stray hair tickling his sun-kissed cheeks. A curtain of dark strands partly covered his eyes. Normally, he would've fixed it right away, but he didn’t feel like doing so. The only thing he wanted right now was to dissolve in the air and disappear. They simply couldn’t have this conversation right now.
He heard Satoru take a few steps in his direction, to then stop right in front of him. It was easier before, to pretend that nothing was happening when he wasn’t this close.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp jab on his forehead. Hissing, he reached out to press on the sore place with his hand, trying to ease the pain.
“What the hell?”
He narrowed his eyes, glancing up just to see a little smirk appear on Satoru's face. What a little menace.
Gojo just fucking flicked him.
“Well, now that you're finally decided to look at my handsome face - let's go ” he commented, grabbing Suguru's hand and taking long strides, leading both of them forward.
Confusion on Geto’s face was short-lived once he realized where the other was guiding him.
The balcony.
They stepped out, their hands still connected, Gojo's thin fingers tangled in Suguru's.
Satoru's palm was surprisingly cold, his touch soothing against Getou's warm skin. He thought the air around them was even more humid and sweltering than before. Abruptly, he grew aware of a damp cotton shirt sticking to his back. He didn’t have a single idea of why, but he felt a bit embarrassed by that. Honestly, why would he? It was only the two of them, and Satoru had seen Getou in worse circumstances, so why being a bit sweaty near the other boy would cause his cheeks to heat, and his skin to tingle in such an odd way? Maybe it was because this was the first time in a while that they were together. Alone. It may be the topic that Gojo brought up. Perhaps both of these things.
Was he going crazy? What was going on?
They walked up to the railing, letting go of their hold.
Hoping that his inner crisis wasn’t noticed, he followed to replicate Satoru's movements, also leaning on the barrier of the balcony. The sturdy surface of the wooden boards partly brought him back to reality. It all changed, however, when he looked up.
There, next to him, stood a nymph. Or at least this is what Gojo presented like right now- bathing in the moonlight, his white hair moving along with a gentle breeze. Suguru swore the boy's skin shone as if it was sprinkled with silver glitter.
And his eyes. Don't even get him started.
It was like the ocean flooded his senses. The sky fell, embracing him so lovingly he forgot where he stood.
He couldn’t understand why he felt that way.
“Suguru? Are you okay?”
The worry in Satoru's voice was like a bucket of ice-cold water. It poured on Suguru's mind, waking him up from the trance. Swallowing, he tried to say something coherent, yet he couldn’t help but get tongue-tied.
“I…yeah.”
Well, that was just dumb. Getou felt like a fool. Gojo looked at him suspiciously, raising a brow.
“You sure? Because you don't look like you're "okay".”
Something started boiling inside him. Why would Gojo insist? Couldn’t they just stand here in silence? Or not bring up the subject, like, at all? But of course, that wasn't enough for Satoru and his stupid, perfect face, which showed more conflicted emotions than before.
It just all mixed together in an ugly way, all his feelings that he couldn’t figure out.
Look at you, so weak it makes me sick, the voice snickered.
Enough, Suguru pleaded. No more.
“Are you certain you don't want to talk about it?”
“For fuck sake- Yes!”
The answer was curt and did not seem pleasant at all. Satoru flinched, his eyes widening in surprise. Getou didn’t know what just happened. He wasn’t one to lose his composure so easily, but today has been rough. He felt like his head was going to explode. His hands trembled.
He snapped at his best friend. For caring, actually giving a fuck about what is going on with him, and he proceeded to yell at him. But he really didn't want to talk about it right now. It was suffocating and overall felt like he was going to drown in his thoughts. Taking a shaky breath in, he managed to find his voice.
“Sorry.”
A sigh.
“Don't be. I get it.”
“Still, I shouldn't yell at you like that.”
Satoru chuckled, shifting to fully face Getou. The tone of his voice was filled with mischief, as he spoke.
“Nah, I'm used to it. You should know from the expertise” he teased.
Suguru snickered, nodding slowly. The previous tension started to steadily leave him.
They were silent for a while, listening to the sound of crickets and leafs moving in the wind. It was truly a beautiful night. The sight was charming and the tranquil atmosphere started to set between the two boys.
“Perhaps I shouldn't press you to talk about it.”
Their eyes met again.
“But I refuse to let go of the topic without you knowing that if anything is going on - you can tell us. Me, Shoko. Whoever you want, I don't know. I don't want to see you sulk anymore. Think about my poor heart, would you?”
A soft smile appeared on Getou’s face. He felt better now, yet still not ready to face the music and talk. Gojo pointed one of his fingers at Suguru's forehead, between his eyebrows where he had previously flicked him.
“Besides, if you scowl even more than now, you will get awful wrinkles.”
Suguru snorted loudly, feeling the familiar warmth spread through his body. He smacked the finger away, visibly rolling his eyes at his friend's antics, but couldn't help a wide smile appear on his face.
“How considerate of you, Satoru. I'll take your advice to heart.”
“You better! It would be a waste of such a nice face, Suguru!”
Again, Geto felt like he was struck by lightning. It was an electric feeling.
Intoxicating.
Gojo reduced the distance between them, bumping him gently with his shoulder. Suguru returned the gesture laughing softly. His mind was calm and he felt more unbound at the moment.
The material rustled where their arms touched, and Getou sensed Gojo take a deep breath in and out. Then the boy looked up and stared at the sky for a while. Suguru did the same. The night here looked much different than it would in the city, he thought. Living far away enough from the busy streets of Tokyo had its perks, including the lack of light pollution. Stars could be vastly visible as they sparkled, scattered on the dark firmament and adoring it charmingly.
Suguru couldn’t resist and once more he found himself glancing at Satoru's profile. His jaw appeared to be sharper than usual, shadows making all his good angles more prominent. At the same time, his cheeks looked a bit flushed, presumably because of the warm, evening air. Only now he realized how long were his lashes - pure white, reminding him of the first snow, the beginning of winter.
And his lips…
His lips were subtly tinted with pink, parted ever so slightly. Getou wondered how Satoru kept them in such a nice condition. Always looking soft and well moisturized. No bite marks, no cracked skin. It would be a shame if someone tried to ruin all the work he put into them.
Now, in the heat of the moment, he thought that Gojo was very powerful. For one reason or the other.
Suguru didn’t know how appropriate this pondering was, but he had to admit it- Satoru Gojo was extremely beautiful. And really, now that he considered it, his friend always left him in awe. Be it when he was doing something incredible, or something utterly stupid.
With slight amusement, he recalled their first meeting. Never before had he wanted to punch someone so bad. Satoru was rude, annoying and acted without tact.
But even then.
There was just something about him that worked like a magnet on Getou, and it didn’t seem like it would be changing anytime soon. How peculiar.
They changed, for better or for worse. However, this feeling never left, if only got stronger. Always special. In moments like these, the presence of the other boy made Suguru feel like two souls connected, finding their missing pieces. Honestly, Getou couldn't imagine the world without Gojo's annoying mumbling and stupid jokes. Then it would be too quiet, too still.
So cold.
Whatever power rules over this world, he wanted to thank it for Satoru's strength. Because frankly speaking, he couldn’t imagine what madness he might commit if something happened to this silly man, obsessed with sweets and spreading his foolery wherever he appeared.
He felt light-headed. All right, so maybe he was absolutely smitten. What a hypocrite he was, calling Satoru a fool when right now he was the one acting like an idiot. Suguru couldn’t help but laugh, really.
Hearing his little chuckle, Gojo turned in his direction with puzzlement written all over his face. He resembled a lost puppy with how he tilted his head in wonder. Getou genuinely didn’t know why he found it so funny, but he did. He snorted loudly at Satoru’s dumbfounded look, then quickly covered his mouth with his hand.
“What?” Gojo asked, very confused by Getou’s laughing fit. Suguru’s shoulders shook as he guffawed, happy tears appearing in his eyes. Satoru just stood there, smiling dorkily.
“Suguru! Come on, don’t be like that!”
Then it seemed like he realised something. He swiftly reached to touch his face to inspect it.
“Do I have something on my face? Why the hell are you laughing, you moron?!”
Getou swiped at his teary cheeks, to find them close to hurting ever so pleasantly. It has been a while since he allowed himself to laugh so freely. His bun, previously a mess, was now in complete disarray. But like before, he couldn’t care less to fix it. He simply took the band out, letting his dark hair fall on his broad shoulders.
This instant was so chaotic, yet left an oddly pleasurable sensation in his gut. He felt like something fluttered in his stomach as he peeked at bewildered Satoru. The boy was confused, touching his face, trying to find something that wasn’t even there. His pale complexion was flushed in embarrassment.
He looked cute .
There was no way he would admit it out loud, tho. Saying something like that to Satoru was too bold. For now, at least.
Finally, gaining some of his composure back, Suguru stood upright. Still trying to catch his breath, he sent a cocky smile in Gojo’s direction. He was surprised, at how easily he let a lie slide off his tongue.
“You just look dumb, that's all.”
Satoru stopped what he was doing, letting his arms fall at his sides. He stared at Getou with a dumbfounded look, before narrowing his eyes. He sneered at his friend, his voice higher than usual. Visibly embarrassed, Satoru seemed to be blushing even more than before, the tips of his ears covered in pink.
“What the hell…That was just so random, Suguru!” he crossed his arms, looking oddly disappointed. “I honestly thought you lost it!”
“Would you prefer I did?” Getou asked smugly.
The other boy turned away, then leaned on a wooden barrier with a heavy sight. Suguru chuckled, noticing Satoru pout. He reached out to poke him in the ribs, where he knew Gojo was the most ticklish. Squirming loudly, he jumped up in surprise.
“Hey!”
“Didn't know you could jump that high.”
“Oh, go to hell!”
“With pleasure.”
Once again, they welcomed the silence on the balcony, growing tired of their shenanigans. Suguru felt all warm and fuzzy in contrast to his previous sulking. He panicked back then, and would probably spiral down even more if it weren't for Satoru. He felt a bit foolish for all these thoughts that came right after, but he couldn’t help it. Some may argue, but for him Satoru’s presence was soothing, gently taming his stormy mind. It overflowed his senses, making him want it even more. Geto cherished it dearly.
A minute passed, then another. He heard Satoru shift from time to time. Then the movements became more frequent, with Gojo sighing louder and louder, each time with more desperation. Long fingers drummed on the balustrade, as he hummed to himself quietly. If he didn’t know any better, he might have thought that Satoru was nervous.
“Suguru” he whined, causing Getou’s heart to do some weird flips “I'm bored.”
“Why, thank you. I, too, enjoy your company, Satoru.”
Gojo tilted his head back, groaning.
“Ugh, you know what I mean…”
“Do I?”
That seemed to annoy the white-haired boy even more. He huffed, moving closer to Suguru, right into his personal space. He was good at it, at being everywhere. Then he suddenly clapped his hands, loud enough to make Getou’s ears ring.
“Alright, enough of that. Let's do something!”
“Like what?” Suguru asked. He was quite content with what they were doing before. Just being next to each other, indulging themselves in existing in the same instance. But whatever makes Satoru happy.
“Well, we can have a sleepover! I'll go steal Shoko’s nail polish, then we can paint our nails, and gossip about people we don't like. You know, like in all those American movies. Make a pillow fight! I bet I'll win, of course, but I'll let you try. Oh, we can tell our favourite things about each other! Sounds exciting, doesn't it?”
Taking in the word vomit Satoru just produced, Getou considered the idea. When was the last time he had a sleepover? Elementary school? No wonder it seemed like ages ago.
Even if he was half-joking, the pure excitement in Satoru's crystal eyes was something he found very precious. Seeing it, Suguru couldn’t say no. He moved closer to Satoru, ruffling his fluffy hair. Getou might have imagined it, but Gojo seemed to lean closer to the touch, chasing after the warmth of Suguru's hand. It was like petting a touched-staved cat that scratched and hissed at everyone but Getou. When he stopped, he chuckled fondly seeing something close to disappointment appear on Satoru's face.
“So be it. Come on, you big goof. Let's go.”
Satoru grinned brightly and followed Getou into the room with a lively patter.
“You know, I have this one movie I wanted to watch with you.”
“Oh? Really now?”
“Yep,” he said with a popping sound. “But, we would have to go to my room to get it.”
“We?”
Satoru hummed in agreement.
“That's exactly what I meant, yes. Do you have trouble with hearing?”
“Can't you like, teleport to bring it here? It'll be faster.”
Indignant by Suguru's suggestion, Satoru sighed heavily, putting his hands on his hips and shaking his head. After making his good impression of the "disappointed mother" pose, he looked Suguru dead in the eye.
So dramatic.
“You really are no fun, you know? What are you, a grandpa? Are your joints about to break after walking for a while?” then after an instance, he whined loudly, “Suguru, come on. We can, like, race to my room and see who's faster!”
“And get detention? Did you lose your last brain cell?”
“First of all - mean. Please? It'll be fun, I promise!”
And honestly, Suguru knew it was not the best idea, and Yaga will probably have their asses beaten in the morning, but Satoru looked so eager and excited . He exhaled loudly, defeated.
Damn those puppy eyes.
“...Fine.”
So they raced through the corridor, snickering and showing each other from time to time. Satoru almost slipped a few times, cursing under his nose, and it made Suguru laugh till his belly hurt. It was just them, empty halls, and a little competition they had. Soon, the moon will switch with the sun. Gold replacing silver will shimmer here, on the wooden planks, where they are sliding now, clumsily. And during all that, Suguru thought - these are the moments he wants to cherish, till the day death gets him, and he will have to leave this world. When that happens, he wants to remember that feeling of pure youth, with Satoru by his side. His true happiness.
They barged into Satoru's room, breathing heavily, then proceeded to search for the item in Gojo's mess. The task took longer than expected. Finally, after a few minutes of Suguru's complaining and Gojo's grumbling, they got the movie Satoru was so insistent about. Getou really hoped that Yaga would wake up feeling merciful, for once and not bash them for causing such havoc in the middle of the night. Even if they weren’t that loud, the Principal seemed to have some six-sense when it came to his students. Which was kind of useful, considering he taught them, but still. Even if Satoru couldn’t care less, Suguru hoped his luck hadn't completely run out yet.
Nevertheless, they got what they wanted. The boys left Satoru’s lair richer in a CD, trying to be as quiet as possible. But of course, them being them, something had to go wrong. Suguru didn’t know how it happened, but one moment he wasn’t looking at Gojo, the next he heard a loud yelp with a bunch of curses following right after. He turned around to find Satoru bend over on the floor, holding tightly onto his ankle, helplessly trying to stop the pulsating pain.
“Shit!” he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to drive frustrated tears away. Again, with no effect.
Of course, this idiot would somehow slam his foot between the doorframe. Why did he even bother to think that it all will go smoothly? He pinched the bridge of his nose and hunched over, to sit next to the six-eyes user.
“Satoru, you really need to be more careful,” he whispered, trying to conceal the worry in his voice with an annoyed tone. “Why the hell didn’t you have Infinity turned on?”
“Why would I need it, when I’m with you?” Satoru snapped back, gritting his teeth.
Despite the snappy tone of Gojo’s response, Suguru would lie, if he said it didn’t take him by surprise. A warm feeling spread all over his body, heat reddening his cheeks. He had to focus, and he had to do it fast.
With new determination, he examined the boy’s ankle. He proceeded to gently touch irritated skin as if it was about to break into pieces any minute now. It was obvious Satoru wasn’t being his usual dramatic self - this actually hurt him. The swelling was more and more prominent with every second they sat there, doing nothing to treat it. He looked back at Gojo, who was trying his best not to grimace under the light pressure of his fingers tracing back and forth. Suguru furrowed his brow.
Trip to Shoko it is.
“Don’t even think about it.”
Suguru sighed. Of course, Satoru wouldn’t want to do it in a correct, safe way.
“It’s nothing, really,” Gojo tried to convince him, yet again.
“From what I remember, you have no medical knowledge or competencies to tell if it’s serious or not. Satoru, we are going to Shoko.”
“But-”
“It’s final. No arguing.”
“Didn’t you want to avoid getting detention? If not the race, this for sure will be the reason to get one.”
“I don’t care if I get detention or not. Not when you are hurting.”
Now it was Gojo’s turn to be speechless. Which was a satisfying sight, if he had to be honest. But other than that, Getou felt like he was going to be prematurely turned grey if they keep having accidents like this. What was he going to do with this little walking disaster?
Trying not to break under the pressure of these wide, blue eyes, he decided to take action.
Long story short, after some bickering, he found a way to convince Satoru to be carried by him. The boy was sprawled on Suguru's back, arms steadily holding onto his broad shoulders. Getou’s hands found their place under each of Satoru’s tights, carrying him piggyback. Satoru was unusually quiet, his breath softly tickling Suguru’s neck with his every exhale. They walked like this for a while, just them and the sound of the night outside the windows of an empty corridor. The silence made Getou feel a bit guilty for how he handled the situation, even if it was for Satoru’s benefit. But before he produced any specific apology, the eerie quietness had been interrupted by a soft voice that belonged to the boy he carried.
“I lied. Back there, on the balcony.”
“Huh?”
Well, now Getou was just confused.
“I wasn’t bored. I don't think I could ever be bored with you.” Satoru muttered. He placed his chin more firmly on Suguru’s shoulder. Getou thought about his response to that, but after a while, Satoru continued in the same, hushed voice. It sounded almost intimate. Like a confession.
“This balcony was just too gloomy. I don’t know why, but it left me feeling odd. You were standing there, lost in thoughts. At times, it seemed like you travelled somewhere far, far away, leaving me behind. You were there, but not really, and wherever you had gone, I couldn’t follow.”
So he was nervous after all. But the way he spoke, there was something more to it. Getou wondered what exactly.
Satoru continued.
“Before coming to your room, too. I had this strangely intense feeling. I needed to check if you were there. I'm not even sure why…”
“You wanted my attention?”
He didn't ask to make fun of the other boy. Getou genuinely tried to figure out, what was going on inside the other boy’s mind. Satoru shifted slightly in Suguru’s hold. Then as if he was hesitant, he asked.
“Is that a bad thing?”
Suguru couldn’t help, but smile.
“No. You always have my attention.”
Something seemed to change after Getou answered that question. Maybe it was because of the atmosphere created by the moment, or Satoru's sheer openness. Perhaps it was his whispers, tingling at Suguru's neck, soft lips close to Getou's pierced ear. He couldn’t tell what exactly.
His hold on Satoru's tights tightened, touch serving him some guidance. The smile he wore turned slightly sour when he, also, thought about confessing something. Be it for Satoru, or himself.
“And yes, I guess I was feeling a bit lost.”
Admitting it felt strange but oddly correct.
“No shit.”
Satoru's response made him snicker. He recalled the moments on the balcony, thinking of subtle blush spreading on pale cheeks, silver glitter shining in the moonlight. He remembered ocean blue, clear sea water reaching out to the shore. An enchanting secret he would be honoured to solve. Then, Suguru added fondly - “But not all my thoughts were bad. Some were very pleasant.”
Getou felt Gojo relax. Next, a content sight was followed by a whisper.
“Then I'm glad.”
However, something was still on Suguru’s mind. One thing, he couldn’t help but inquire about. So he asked, voice soft and resonating around them.
“Are you scared I would leave you behind?”
Gojo scoffed as if he found the idea alone so ridiculous, no one would have believed it. He still snuggled into Getou, embracing him tighter than before. He murmured, “My dear Suguru, I'm not afraid of anything.”
My dear Suguru. He liked the sound of that.
“I wouldn't. Leave you, that is.”
Satoru nuzzled in the crook of Getou's neck, clearly embarrassed by being exposed.
“Shut up.”
It was a pleasant sensation, Suguru thought. Being so close. Having him in his arms, safe and secure.
And so they walked through the empty school. Both of them would probably get an earful in the morning, but to be frank, Getou couldn’t care less. The only thing that mattered at the moment was the warmth he felt on his back, a steady weight reminding him of tonight's evening. The moonlight and the balcony. Gentle touches and wind in his hair, Satoru’s laughter surrounding him, as he run free of any thought.
White hair tickled his cheek.
Suguru was content.