Work Text:
Haaah-
He felt air blooming inside his lungs, digesting it, hungry for the taste of lotus and fresh spring. Between white lashes, the sunlight disturbed his eyesight, instinctively driving two fingers up the slope of his nose in search of his sunshield. His mind was a blur, the last thing he had remembered was a disfigured face, grimacing at him, eyes in somewhat surprise of his own strength, in the ability to rip-
His hands drove to his lower body, though solely being met with the inky fabric of Jujutsu Tech, flattening to its touch. Satoru could feel his fingers spark beneath it. The wind toyed with the strands of his hair, head turning to watch Sakura petals tracing the figure of the few clouds contrasting the sky. He inhaled, carefully, as if it could tear his insides apart, a familiar smell between honey and rusty wood in the classroom.
Satoru was back.
The carving underneath his fingernails, from a poorly drawn Satoru and – and Suguru. He noted the way his crinkly edges have been smoothed out with a thick sharpie, the wood beneath it marking stories between these two tables, beside each other, always.
Satoru’s trance was awoken by a light knock, though he couldn’t help but fall to ease at the presence he sensed. There was no one he would ever mistake for him.
“Yo, Satoru.”
Satoru felt taken aback, his veins rushing with the blood of his youth, with his head spinning every time he voiced his name, whenever he leaned onto him to gain more of his touch, more of his warmth. Suguru was standing in the doorframe, head lightly ducked, bangs swiftly gracing his features.
“Suguru”
His voice appeared breathless. Satoru’s eyes wanted to cry for him, his body wanted to fall into his arms, to smell his hair and to sob like a child who’d lost his favourite plush toy. Suguru was there, he was there and he wasn’t gone, he was there when he blinked, when he breathed Satoru tasted the sandalwood between his teeth. Suguru was there the way he had wanted him to be for the past years.
Satoru took a desperate step towards him, wobbly, as if the world could collapse under his weight, if this were a space of time, limited in its motives, limited in its breaths, limited in words. Suguru smiled warmly, lips rosy with life, tan as if he were out in the sun everyday, walking among the people of Tokyo and gently pressing down the button which read ‘Soba noodles, spicy’. He remembered the way he felt, the way he looked, ebony hair tied up into a thick bun – it was him.
“Did you have your reaction yet?“ Suguru teased, walking toward him. Satoru finally registered how his feet were solid blocks of ice, built in the bitterness of winter, in a stance only his enemies knew like their right hand. This was his Suguru.
Somehow, Satoru understood, deep inside. He understood that he’d lost. He understood, that this was his Suguru, this was Geto Suguru, from where his soul brimmed with light, with the sunset eyes, golden laugh and tidy attire. Satoru hadn’t recognized it if he weren’t here. It was the feeling of ease which washed over his mind like the first spring wave at the beach, like the first whiff of pollen he abruptly had to sneeze at the second he deactivated his infinity. He had heard Suguru snicker at him, bumping his fist softly against his shoulder in a tease. He remembered. Satoru’s eyes were torn apart by the sight of his best friend, of his one and only.
He understood that this wasn’t reality. This wasn’t him losing, this was defeat. And for some reason, Satoru wanted to laugh. He wanted to share his misery with him and laugh about the stupid things he’d done, how he’d gone all-in for one fight, for one fight alone he was so sure he would win. For one fight he wasn’t able to win, as the strongest.
“I didn’t win.”
Satoru’s voice was dry of emotions, though the ice around his feet melted, meeting eye-to-eye with his best friend, watching golden specks dance in his crescent
eyes. Suguru raised his hand to lead him to their tables, on his back, firmly assuring him that he would be there, that he would watch it for him, that he wouldn’t let him down. Suguru swished the chair beneath him, Satoru dragged his own across the wooden floor, shrieking in protest and turning it around in muscle memory. This was them.
He faced him, blankly.
“You gave your everything, huh?”
“Sukuna gave me everything of his, something that I couldn’t hold.” Satoru gulped, guilt threading on his tongue “I’m sorry, Suguru.”
His name felt familiar on his tongue, as if it were his own name. The black haired man hummed, face relaxed against the streaks of sun brushing his nose, arms crossed in front of him the same way whenever he used to watch Satoru eat his third ice cream cone.
“I wish I would have been there.”
Satoru huffed out, amused.
“You have no idea how badly I wanted to look back, to have you cheer on me. That was the only thing I needed to win.”
Suguru chuckled lightly, hands softly entangling Satoru’s own cold ones, toying with his fingertips.
“You didn’t need me to cheer on you.” Suguru’s eyes averted from their hands, watching Satoru’s, deep gaze as if he were ready to give into the ocean, “I just had to be there.”
Satoru smiled, somewhat.
“We’re the strongest together, remember?”
Suguru’s thumb rolled over the inside of his hand.
“We’re the strongest.” He repeated, voice brittle with his touch on his hands, gentle breeze allowing his lungs to taste the petals’ pollen.
“I like the sound of that.”
Suguru hummed deeply. Silence fell over them like a feathered blanket, so light he couldn’t feel its weight. Satoru’s mind struck lightning. He felt weightless. There was no balance to hold, with him – there were no wings which were dared to be cut, dooming him to an endless fall without a safety net to catch him. There was soft, warm air on his shoulders, heating up his skin inside the uniform. Suguru was the one who had his back, Suguru was the one who made his world weightless, who made it easier, by more than the little bit he had given him credit for in his life. He hadn’t know that being with him – whenever that was, afterlife or present, – would be so easy. Suguru was gentle, touching his hands with softened skin, as if he were a glasshell waiting to be broken open, waiting for the pressing balance inside his heart to crack.
And he had been. Satoru had been waiting, for Suguru. For a look over his shoulder, to see his face one last time, to see how he didn’t have to let go, to watch how Suguru was there. Suguru had observed his infinity, he had accepted the distance between them, the little space Satoru could realize which Suguru struggled to brush his fingertips against. There was nothing between them, just a small, infinitely tiny space which determined who would be the chosen one. And Suguru had listened to the way his heart beat for him, for them. For the strongest two, how he had watched over his back when Satoru was looking ahead. He stayed behind for him so Satoru could give his all, without looking back. Because he knew he would be there. Because the familiar sound of crushing cursed would be Suguru’s work, assisting him.
Yet, whenever the smell of honey rubbed between the forest of the sunsets, Satoru hadn’t been able to shake the thought that he had been alone. That Suguru hadn’t been there, that he had been left behind by him. And it was something bitter, a distaste on his lips that drew his teeth into them, forcing blood out as the punishment he deserved. Because his Suguru was in front of him. And he knew what could have been, if it weren’t for–
“Satoru”
Clarity reached his mind, Suguru’s hands were pressed against Satoru’s porcelain skin.
“I don’t regret you.” A gentle smile spread across his face, eyebrows drawn in apologetically, “I don’t regret being with you, Satoru. I wanted to watch your back so you could look toward the front. You may have been the strongest, but you weren’t the strongest alone.”
Satoru’s lids fluttered close, leaning into his touch, dry lips pressing into the palm of Suguru’s hand.
“I’ve missed you.”
The crystal haired man spoke in broken pieces of glass, his insides exposed, his beating heart in the hands of the man across of him, his fingers intertwined with his thoughts.
“I don’t think words can express how much my heart tore every time –”
“– I sensed you.” Suguru finished his sentence, soft voice laid on the ice of winter.
“Don’t leave me anymore, Suguru.”
He reopened his eyes, watching a brief moment of guilt flicker across his dark orbs, instantly leaning into the nostalgia of his first year – Suguru leaving early to catch a train, Satoru waiting for him until the sun had set and his warmth next to him was gone.
Suguru didn’t answer, he leaned forward, eyes shut when he pressed his lips on Satoru’s. He felt seventeen, the way Suguru had watched him, had looked at him. The way Satoru could barely contain the redness blooming across his pale face, a triumph for Suguru. The teasing laughter was warm, uncomplicated, as easy as writing Suguru’s name on his heart because he knew it wouldn’t change, his choice wouldn’t change. Satoru barely parted his lips from Suguru’s, taking his touch into his soul as if he would be able to absorb it, to treasure it like diamonds behind a safety glass of a museum, to watch over it as if it wouldn’t repeat itself.
They stayed close for a while, Satoru couldn’t make out the time they had. His thumb trailed his features, eyes feeling every spot on his face, memorizing everything he had been, everything he was to him.
“It’s you”
He spoke as if he had never been sure about anything in his life before, it weren’t his vows to him, it weren’t his life lines to him. It was his heart beating inside his hands.
“You’re my only one.”
Suguru brushed his hair from his eyes, gently.
“You’re the only one who gives me strength, Satoru.” He exhaled against his lips, “You’re my mirror in my heaviest days, you’re my light in my darkest. If you breathe I feel air inside my lungs, if you die I feel your freedom with me.”
They parted, just far enough to watch each other’s unmoving expressions of white lilies blooming in the first spring, fresh, filled with warmth and an everlasting youth.
“I can feel your freedom, Satoru. You can relax now, I’m here to watch your back.”
Satoru couldn’t help but grin, a stupid, foolish grin.
“Cheer on me, Suguru.”
Suguru’s laughter equalled the sunlight after rain.
“I promise you, my one and only.”