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Satoru isn’t sure what’s going on. Suguru is strangely subdued these days, quiet in ways he wasn’t before and even as Satoru explains his—frankly—ingenious automation of his Limitless technique, he keeps an eye on Suguru.
It seems as if Suguru is looking straight at him, but his gaze is empty, hollow, passing right through Satoru and something sharp and painful lodges in his chest, like a splinter.
He worries.
“Suguru, have you lost weight? You okay?” he calls out after Shoko left with a wave of her hand, his eyes fixed on Suguru, who simply shrugs the question off.
“It’s just heat fatigue. I’ll be fine.”
It’s a lie.
Satoru doesn’t even need to know Suguru as well as he does to know that it’s a lie, and not even a good one. Suguru is wearing his entire uniform; Satoru and Shoko are dressed down to alleviate the heat at least a little bit, but Suguru is wearing his jacket as well, all buttoned up.
There is no way it’s the heat, not when he’s dressed like that.
Besides; Satoru gave Suguru explicit permission to throw something at him, right at his head, too. Suguru should be overjoyed by that. He always threatens to throw something at Satoru if he doesn’t shut up, and now the one time he actually has permission and he can apparently barely be bothered to participate.
No, something is wrong.
“Suguru,” Satoru starts but Suguru turns away from him before he can even think of what to say.
“I said I’m fine, Satoru.” His voice is barely raised enough to reach Satoru and while Suguru has always been soft-spoken, he’s never been quiet like this.
Satoru watches Suguru walk off, his shoulder’s hunched as if he’s warding off a chill or preparing for an attack even though they are in the middle of Jujutsu High, one of the best protected places there is.
He seems small in a way Satoru isn’t used to and the splinter in his chest only lodges itself deeper.
Something is wrong with Suguru and Satoru is going to find out what.
~*~*~
Satoru has never been a very attentive person. His Six Eyes provide him with more information than he can reasonably compute and he learned to tune most of it out early on, in pure self-preservation.
But now he fixes all of his Eyes on Suguru. Now, he’s being very attentive.
And Satoru finds that he doesn’t like what he finds.
Suguru is losing weight. The bags under his eyes grow darker with every day—he can give Shoko a run for her money with them already—and his fingers keep shaking. He barely eats. He doesn’t laugh. On the rare occasion they are all together, Suguru tags along Shoko and Satoru as if it’s a chore rather than something he actually wants to do.
“Suguru, are you alright?” Satoru finds himself asking again, one afternoon where he managed to find Suguru outside of his room for once, even if he barely acknowledges Satoru’s presence.
“Stop asking me that, I told you, it’s just the heat,” Suguru gives back, just a beat too late, as if mustering the strength to speak is already too much for him.
The heat is still oppressive, Satoru will give him that, but where Satoru is wearing a thin t-shirt, Suguru continues to be dressed up in his normal uniform, even though they have the afternoon off.
There’s not a bead of sweat on his face and Satoru would bet his entire heritance that Suguru is cold to the touch.
“Yeah, right, the heat,” Satoru gives back, makes sure to let Suguru know how unconvincing he is by the sarcastic tone of his voice and he regrets it the moment Suguru gets up to leave.
He never simply walked away from Satoru like that.
Satoru wants to call him back, wants to follow after him and drape himself over Suguru’s back like he did countless times before but he can’t bring himself to move.
Something is wrong with Suguru, and he’s not letting Satoru know what it is.
The thought stings, the hurt settles right next to the worry in his chest, two splinters now vying for attention and it makes Satoru just a little bit sick.
He watches Suguru walk away from him, afraid to take his eyes off Suguru for even a second. It feels as if he so much as blinks Suguru could turn into mist and dissipate into the night as if he was never there in the first place.
The thought scares Satoru.
~*~*~
Satoru is an annoying person, he knows that. It’s mostly by choice, except for when it isn’t, and even though he usually doesn’t give much thought to how abrasive or overbearing, how loud and rude he is, he starts to care now.
Things with Suguru feel delicate at the moment; Suguru himself feels delicate.
He used to be a strong and steady pillar at Satoru’s side, sturdy and supportive for everyone around him but the more Satoru watches him, the more time passes, the more noticeable the small cracks seem to get.
Satoru thinks that Suguru is brittle enough to crumble with a wrong word and it makes him cautious.
He wants to go back to how they were before, joking around, rough-housing with each other, but the thought that Suguru could fracture apart with the slightest touch makes Satoru keep his hands to himself.
It doesn’t help that he’s barely at the school these days; Yaga and the higher-ups are sending him on back-to-back missions almost all the time now and Satoru knows that Suguru is not faring much better.
Except while Satoru seems to thrive under the stress, Suguru seems to break.
“Hey, Suguru, join me for dinner, will you?” Satoru calls out as he jogs up to Suguru, careful to keep a little bit of distance between them because the thought that he could cause Suguru to shatter is unbearable.
Better safe than sorry.
“I’m not hungry,” Suguru gives back, his voice still lacking that distinct inflection that makes it feel alive and warm, and Satoru tries to hide his frown.
He doesn’t even know why because it’s not as if Suguru is even looking at him.
“You haven’t eaten in ages, though, come on, we can get your favourite,” Satoru needles him, and that finally gets a reaction out of Suguru.
“How would you know when I last ate,” Suguru says, seemingly too tired to even give the words the proper inflection to make it a question and Satoru bites his tongue.
Suguru is probably not going to take it well if he tells him that Satoru is keeping all of his Six Eyes on him these days.
“You’re never around anymore, anyway,” Suguru adds, much more quiet, much more bitter than anticipated, and Satoru almost freezes in his steps.
It’s true; neither of them are around much these days with all the missions. Satoru knows that the missions stress Suguru out, can see it in his deteriorating health, but it never occurred to Satoru that his absence would be something that bothers Suguru so much.
“Yeah, things have been busy, haven’t they?” he agrees with a wistful smile and he feels as if he burns when Suguru’s eyes slide over to him.
It feels as if it’s been ages since Suguru last looked at him.
“You look good, though,” Suguru mutters and while Satoru usually would take it as a compliment and be obnoxiously annoying about it, this time he only shrugs.
“It has his perks, being able to heal myself,” he gives back and it’s not even a complete lie.
He has been tired as well, lately. Satoru doesn’t really need to sleep anymore, not since he figured out how to use the reverse cursed technique, but that doesn’t stop him from being weary.
That mostly comes from the worry for Suguru, though, but he doesn’t say that.
“Must be nice,” Suguru mumbles, barely audible over the sound of their steps and Satoru wants to drape himself over Suguru so badly it almost physically aches.
He compromises and reaches out for Suguru’s sleeve, tugging slightly on it.
“Join me for dinner, Suguru. We’re both here, aren’t we? Dinner and a movie.”
He bites back the joke that usually would follow those words, doesn’t know if Suguru is up for their usual banter and too scared to find out what could happen if he’s not to say anything.
Suguru doesn’t move his arm away, even as he slows his steps before he comes to a complete halt. Satoru watches him open and close his mouth several times as if he can’t quite decide on what to say and in a fashion completely uncharacteristic for him, Satoru stays quiet and let’s Suguru figure out what he wants to do on his own.
“Fine,” Suguru finally breathes out and the splinters in Satoru’s chest dislodge themselves the slightest bit.
Suguru is not completely lost to him.
~*~*~
“Absolutely not,” Yaga decidedly says and Satoru fights the urge to stick his tongue out at him.
It doesn’t matter what Yaga says; it’s not as if he can make Satoru do anything he doesn’t want to do.
And he doesn’t want to go on missions every day anymore.
“A mission every second day, or Suguru and I only go together,” he repeats again, not budging on this at all and just as Yaga is about to open his mouth, Satoru adds “And if you make us go on separate missions on alternating days, I am going to level this entire school to the ground.”
It’s not so much a threat as a promise and going by the pulsing vein on Yaga’s head he damn well knows it, too.
“Fine,” he bites out after a very long minute. “One mission every second day, so you both have the same day in between off. If a special grade curse creeps up, though, that doesn’t apply.”
“Fine by me,” Satoru agrees because he’s not actually eager to have his fellow sorcerers killed to keep to his vacation days. “But to those Suguru and I go together.”
There is not much Satoru or Suguru can’t handle on their own, but special grade curses are always dangerous. And besides; it’s more fun with Suguru around.
“Agreed,” Yaga presses out through clenched teeth and for a split second Satoru feels bad for him because he will have to explain all of this to the higher-ups but in the end, Satoru couldn’t care less.
Yaga can deal with the higher-ups seeing as Satoru and Suguru deal with all the stupid curses out there.
“Always a pleasure talking to you,” Satoru cheerily says, his most obnoxious smile on his face and it’s worth it to see Yaga turn red in the face.
Satoru doesn’t anger him further, though, because he’s actually eager to tell Suguru the good news. Surely that will alleviate some of the pressure on him; surely that will help Suguru regain some of his strength and spirit.
Suguru is nowhere to be found in his usual spots so Satoru makes for his room, only bothering with the most cursory knocks before he barges right in. He falters in his steps when he finds Suguru sitting on the floor in front of his bed, not even doing anything but simply staring into nothing.
Satoru doesn’t let that stop him though, so he walks straight up to him and plops himself down next to Suguru.
“I have good news and bad news,” Satoru starts and briefly presses their shoulders together before he moves away again.
Suguru is still brittle, still prone to breaking in Satoru’s mind, even though it has gotten a little bit better with every meal they shared in the last few weeks, and so it’s still up to Suguru how much physical contact he can actually stand.
Satoru wants to weep with relief when Suguru chases the contact and leans against Satoru.
“Bad first, I guess,” Suguru says, clearly resigned to whatever catastrophe he expects to hear out of Satoru’s mouth next.
“You’ll have to spend every second day with me now, and special grade curses are joined missions from now on,” Satoru rushes out, a teasing glint in his eyes, because those are not bad news—he’s just trying to ease Suguru back into their previous banter.
“What’s the good news then?” Suguru asks with a frown and it’s the first real expression other than the vacant look Satoru has seen on his face in ages and it makes him want to kiss Suguru stupid with relief.
But physical touch is still touch-and-go with Suguru these days—not even to mention that he’d probably be weirded out by the kisses—so Satoru only allows himself a small smile.
“Good news is that missions are now only every second day,” he announces. “Well, except for special grade curses, those we’ll have to take whenever they appear.”
“How?” Suguru asks and Satoru chuckles.
“Yaga and I had a very nice talk.”
“Did you make him pop a vessel?” Suguru asks, something akin to a chuckle accompanying his words and Satoru leans more firmly against him, dares to press their legs together, too.
Satoru still doesn’t know what’s bothering Suguru, still doesn’t know how to really help him, but it seems all the small things he’s doing are fixing something because Suguru doesn’t pull away.
“Nah, the old geezer is fine,” Satoru carelessly says, waving his hand around in a sorry excuse to drop it on top of Suguru’s arm.
He holds his breath, waits for Suguru to brush him off, to move away and put more distance between them, just like he has done for the last however many weeks, but when Suguru stays right where he is, the ache in Satoru’s chest dulls down.
“Thanks, I guess,” Suguru whispers out and Satoru almost jerks in surprise when Suguru drops his head to Satoru’s shoulder.
Satoru hasn’t asked Suguru if he’s alright since he told him to stop asking that one time, too afraid of making him pull away completely and even now he bites the question back. It’s more than clear that he’s not alright, but it’s also more than clear that it’s getting better, no matter how minute the progress might be and Satoru is not going to shatter this newfound peace with an unwanted question.
Instead, he rests his head on top of Suguru’s and mutters out a quiet “You’re welcome” before he simply enjoys the moment.
The splinters in his chest wobble, almost loose by now, and it feels as if Satoru finally can breathe again.
~*~*~
Satoru slowly comes to. Something must have woken him up, but he’s inside the school, so it can hardly be an emergency and his Six Eyes aren’t screaming at him that there’s danger so instead of jumping up and falling into action, he lazily turns around and freezes when he sees Suguru sliding the door shut behind him.
His hair is undone and tangled up as if he had been turning in bed all this time and even now he’s wearing long pants and a baggy sweatshirt, despite the lingering heat of the day.
Suguru seems to hesitate at the door for a moment, even though he’s already in Satoru’s room, and Satoru simply watches him, waits for him to make his decision. He doesn’t want to; everything in him screams to call out to Suguru, to make a quip, banter with him, but he bites his tongue.
This is the first time that Suguru has come to him since all of this started; he’s not going to fuck it all up by being impulsive now.
So Satoru waits and despairs with every second that Suguru stays unmoving at the door, his fingers itching with the need to pull Suguru into the room.
Eventually Suguru lets out a harsh breath before he turns around and walks up to Satoru’s bed. He doesn’t seem surprised to see Satoru awake as he comes to a stop right at the edge of the bed. Satoru stares up at him, hating the fact that his Six Eyes make it so he can clearly see the almost shattered expression on Suguru’s face instead of having that hidden by the dark of the night.
He doesn’t dare to speak, doesn’t know what will send Suguru running again and so he simply waits.
Suguru takes a shuddering breath before he says: “Ask me.”
Satoru doesn’t have to ask what he’s supposed to ask; there’s only one thing he really wants to know and that Suguru has danced around for weeks now.
“Suguru, are you okay?”
The effect is instant; everything Satoru feared these past weeks happens right in front of his eyes as Suguru crumbles where he stands.
Satoru feels as if he can’t breathe when he spots tears in Suguru’s eyes.
“No, I’m not,” Suguru gets out, his voice shaking around the admission and Satoru doesn’t hesitate to reach out for Suguru’s hand, tugs him into bed with him, where he can hold him.
Suguru follows his lead easily, right until he’s tucked into Satoru’s arms and Satoru can feel the way he shakes.
“What’s wrong?” Satoru mutters into Suguru’s unbound hair, holds his breath for the answer he’s almost certain won’t come and so it’s a surprise when Suguru speaks again.
“I don’t know,” he breathes out, curling up tighter in Satoru’s arms. “I can’t—I don’t know how to explain, I don’t know how to make you understand. I don’t know.”
It breaks Satoru’s heart to hear Suguru like that, to know that something is so wrong with Suguru that he’s barely a shell of himself these days and not being able to help but Satoru is certain that they are going to figure it out, no matter what.
Suguru came to him, he admitted that something is wrong and Satoru will not let that trust be misplaced.
“That’s alright,” he soothes Suguru, nuzzling his head. “We’ll figure it out. You and me, together, right? As long as it’s us, we can do it.”
Satoru feels how Suguru shakes his head and it makes him frown.
“No, you don’t—it’s me, it’s my thing, I just thought—you should know,” Suguru weakly says, as if that makes any sense, as if Satoru would really leave him alone with whatever is going on.
“Suguru,” Satoru decidedly says, lifting Suguru’s head until he can look him in the eyes. “Of course it’s our thing. You’re my—” He wants to say ‘best friend’ but that feels lacking, that doesn’t even come close to encompassing everything Suguru is to him so instead Satoru says “—one and only, we’re going to figure it out together. Always together, okay?”
The relief is stark on Suguru’s face, as if he doubted even for a second that Satoru could really mean it and Satoru wants to chide him for being so stupid, for ever doubting Satoru, but instead of doing that, he presses a kiss to Suguru’s forehead.
“I’m here,” he reassures Suguru, who in turn clings to him as if his life depends on it and Satoru holds him tightly.
The ache in Satoru’s chest is still there—how could it not with Suguru practically breaking down in his arms—but the worry is no longer a splinter, left to fester and rot, sending sharp pain through Satoru whenever Suguru pulled away from him.
Now that Suguru confirmed that something is wrong, now that he came to Satoru and confided in him, it’s something softer, something more malleable. Something Satoru will gladly carry around with him, until Suguru can wear a heartfelt smile on his face again.
And Satoru will make sure that it happens, no matter what.