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At first, you confuse the blaring noise with the sound of your alarm, so in a weird way, you're almost relieved when your left eye opens a little to discover the moon is still up, shining through the cracks in your blinds. It was practically full tonight, you note, so close one could confuse it for being full already.
You grin at the thought of having a few more hours of sleep before getting up. That is if, whoever decided to call you at this ungodly hour would make it quick.
You were hoping for a spam call or a wrong number, but when the name Gojo glared back at you, your hope for some rest evaporated in front of your squinting eyes.
"What?"
"Wooow, is that a way to say good morning to your best friend, hmm?"
"It's not morning, nor is it good."
"You didn't deny I was your best friend, though."
You sigh. Placing the phone next to your head, you let yourself fall back into the pillow. It was now slightly colder, something that eased your misery.
"I'm so telling Shoko!"
"Did you need something, Gojo?" You try to get back on topic, knowing that was close to impossible considering it's Gojo. There's a raspiness in your voice that Satoru's lacked, telling you he must have been up these past few hours.
"No, just wanted someone to talk to, and Suguru still has my number blocked!"
"... that's an excellent idea, actually."
"You wouldn't! Don't even pretend," he smiles. The smugness in his voice would have annoyed you if you were more awake.
"So, how was your day?" He finally speaks, and you can hear his smile.
"Was okay, work was boring, but I didn't have to do much cuz Aki was there."
"Aki…? " You heard him mumble under his breath, deep in thought, "Ahh, I remember! That little brown-haired guy with the big fat crush on you!"
You make a noise of agreement.
"What's up with him? He still into you?"
"Mmm, I dunno, maybe. But more importantly! Today, this guy came in and offered me 3000 yen if I would go and eat with him!"
"No way, that's not enough," Satoru scoffed in disbelief.
"It's really not! And He was like three times my age or something. It was really gross."
The two of you are silent for a little. Satoru doesn't mind. He even thinks you've fallen asleep for a second there. He's sitting by the windowsill, it's not cold underneath his skin, and his bear back against the wall felt as though they were the same temperature. He lets himself get lost in the thoughts of how warm your hands were in comparison, how everything about you radiated a warmth he could never really produce on his own. He longed for it, both to be warm and to feel yours.
The thought that you would probably flinch away at his cold touch made him frown, and he wondered if that was the only reason. Hoped that if his hands were just a little warmer, there would be a content smile on your face instead, and you'd simply squeeze it back.
"How was your day?" You finally ask in return.
His head snaps towards his phone screen, he got so lost in his thoughts he forgot you were still there.
"Good. I've been thinking about your book and... what I said about it. I thought maybe I should give it a try," Satoru smiles, "so I can properly make fun of it, of course."
You hum, "Didn't know you could read."
He ignores your comment.
"But you have to lend me your copy. I'm too embarrassed to have that in my purchase history."
You huff in disbelief.
"I'm sure you've got worse things in there. Remember when Shoko found your-"
"Okaaay , enough!" he interrupts, raising his voice just enough to cut you off. The little giggle he can hear along with the rustling of your sheets brings a grin to his face nonetheless.
"So that's why you called me? To have small talk and cadge my romance novels?"
The question makes him frown, and he dislikes the thought that you'd assume he'd need a reason to call you in the first place.
He wonders if Suguru sometimes calls you just because, if you fall asleep on the phone together or send each other little updates on your days. He wonders if you would have answered with a more lively tone and quicker if it was his best friend.
He counted five rings when he called.
"I guess…" he begins, but you accept this as an answer already, unaware Satoru was playing with the drawstring of his pants, trying his hardest to mutter the words burning on the tip of his tongue.
"I guess I just missed you," he finally breaths.
He's met with silence and hates it, tapping a rhythm against the window to break it.
"Did you hear me?" He whispers, embarrassment and disappointment washing over him.
You don't respond.
He counts about 3 minutes to conclude you've fallen asleep again, and it's confirmed when he can hear your soft breathing through the phone.
Tiptoeing towards his mattress, he lays down, puts the phone on his pillow and scoots over a little. He doesn't bother putting the blanket over his body, knowing it wouldn't make a difference. He assumes this is how you must be lying right now, and he imagines turning his head, closing his phone and finding you lying there.
Warm and breathing, softly.
"To be honest… I've been having this dream about you lately, and..." Satoru waits, in case you woke up again, in case you were pretending to sleep or actually on the toilet without telling him earlier.
He waits for just about five rings.
"I'm kinda scared I'll have that dream again... I've never really had that, you know."
It must be the almost full moon that makes him so melancholic tonight as he reflects on his life thus far. The empty apartment he stayed in during holidays, big enough for a family of three generations, the one his father had dismissively given him the key to.
Occupied just by Satoru, the house was cold, even during the summer. It was quiet most of the time, simply lacking the warmth of being lived in, of people.
He remembered back in middle school, playing tennis for a year and hockey for two after that. He remembers walking home from tournaments, his racket or helmet tossed in the trash on the way somewhere to make space for a trophy he was hoping to hide, putting them at the bottom of his drawer as soon as he entered his room. He'd announce he quit the club on the dinner table and it was met with a hum or silence.
During all this, he remembers training with his mother every evening and with his trainer every morning and noon. He remembers wearing his best clothes on the weekends and sitting beside his aunts as they gushed about their nephew.
"The future head of the Gojo clan."
He had heard this phrase in a million tones, in a million ways, from a million people.
Laced into their tone was often malice, jealousy, pity and occasionally pride.
"I've never really…" he starts, and he suddenly feels like crying. He remembers a conversation with you long ago, which makes the feeling in his chest even heavier. "... had something to dream about."
His next breaths are shaky, and he's surprised by the sound of them.
He wonders if you can hear it through the phone.
He stays like that, lying on his back, hand on his chest as he listens to the pounding of his heart matching his uneven breathing.
"Anyway... It's late," he looks at the clock on his nightstand: 3.07, next to it is a picture of the four of you in your first year, Shoko's face pressed against yours, you're smiling brightly one arm around her and the other around Suguru, who holds back a grin as he looks at you. Satoru is standing next to him, arm on his shoulder, eyes closed.
"Too late, maybe," he chuckles drily.
"Goodnight," he whispers, before a bittersweet smile dares to form on his lips, "dream of me too, okay?"
He hangs up before you can answer.