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The phone rang. Twice. Satoru was fiddling with his sock, impatient, when Suguru finally picked up.
“What took you so long? My hand’s literally gotten numb over here!”
“’m sorry,” came Suguru’s groggy response.
“Oh, shit, did I wake you?”
It wasn’t uncommon for Satoru to call well past midnight. With Suguru’s sleep cycle being just as bad, if not worse than his own, the two of them spent their nights together almost as often as their days. That didn’t change even during breaks, when they were let (forced) to leave campus and stay with their families. Satoru called once, twice, then the next night, Suguru called first, exasperated by his cousins, and so every night they talked.
Nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary.
Except Suguru had never gone to sleep before three a.m., so Satoru was surprised to say the least.
“’s fine, don’t worry ‘bout it.”
“Wasn’t gonna.” Satoru picked at his nail, finally leaving his sock alone. “If you wanted to sleep, you should have texted me.”
“You would have called anyway.” A yawn, large enough to break his jaw. Satoru felt a smile tug at his lips and didn’t try to supress it. “So what’s up?”
That was all he needed to start rambling about his family and the food, and how much he missed him and Shoko. All thing he’d been saying every day for the past week, all things he would say every time he returned home. Still, Suguru listened and grumbled comments when necessary.
Suguru would always listen, no matter what.
He listened even though he knew he had to wake up early in the morning, because he’d promised his little cousin he’d teach him how to ride his bike. Even though he’d gotten only five hours of sleep the night before. Because none of it mattered, not really. At least not as much as Satoru did.
He wondered idly, while the other complained about how nobody ever seemed to change over there, if Satoru had any idea how important he’d become for him. Not only that, but also how he’d become so important over such a short period of time. Was it the missions? Did the shared trauma of having your life flash before your eyes every once in a while bond them in a sick, inexplicable way? Or rather the successes, the way that their techniques seemed to be made for each other, in the way that they somehow fit together seamlessly, even more so than two pieces of a puzzle?
Describing them, whatever they had, as two pieces of a puzzle seemed… wrong. Unjust and insufficient. Because it implied that there was room for more, it implied that they were part of something bigger. But when they were together, whether on the battlefield or in the dorms, riding Rainbow or a bike, there was no room for more. They weren’t just part of the world, they made up their own world, their own little bubble.
At least that he was certain Satoru felt as well.
Satoru was dead asleep. He was dreaming about something fun, something he’d forget about the moment he would wake up, the only thing left being the feeling of fun. Naturally, he would assume he was dreaming of Suguru. They didn’t see each other much anymore, they were rarely ever sent on missions together, and it was difficult to find time in between. It was a development Satoru hated, but ultimately couldn’t do anything about.
Ever since Riko’s death, it felt like something had changed between them. He’d chalked it up to him unlocking new sides of his techniques, but deep down, he knew there was more to it. More things Suguru wasn’t telling him about, things he felt, rather than thought.
It took him a while to realise that the phone was ringing in real life, the frayed edges of the dream stubbornly sticking to his eye lids, even as he opened them. He slapped a hand on his nightstand, looking for his phone and answered without looking at the screen.
“…Satoru?”
Weird, that Suguru was calling him. He could have sworn he was supposed to-
Wait.
Satoru’s heart sprung up into his throat as he sat up abruptly and started looking for his shoes, thoughts already going a million miles an hour.
“Suguru, are you alright? What happened, do you need me to come-“
“No,” Suguru interrupted him immediately. “No, I just- The mission is complete. I’m on my way back.” His voice was quiet, even more so than usual. Quiet like he was too tired to speak any louder. Quiet like every word he let out took something from him with it. He didn’t say the mission had gone well, Satoru noticed. “I just wanted to talk to you, I guess,” he finally added.
Satoru’s initial panic eased out of him and he managed to revert to his usual tone. “Awhh, you missed my voice?” He squinted at the clock on the wall. 12:47am, it said to him, and he cursed it in his head.
Suguru started breathing heavier, and he wondered if he was walking up a hill or if he had just started running. “I wish I had the chance to spend enough time away from your annoying ass to miss your voice,” he said between huffs.
Satoru started laughing through his yawn. “Oh, I bet.” Once he convinced himself there was no danger and Suguru had really just wanted to talk, he settled back under the covers. And they talked.
They talked while Suguru walked through tight alleyways between low houses. They talked while he exorcised a small curse he ran into in front of a hospital. They talked while he got on the first bus back to campus, and were still talking when he changed after five stops.
“Suguruuu, how fucking far away did they send you, my hand’s literally fallen asleep already!”
“I told you, it’s fine now, you can go back to sleep. Thanks for picking up-“
“No, no chance! You’re stuck with me now.” Satoru turned on his other side and glanced out the window, marvelling at the sky full of stars. If there was any advantage to living on the top of a mountain, this was definitely it. “Besides, I’m not even tired anymore,” he added absentmindedly.
They grew quiet as Suguru changed buses again. Satoru was busy turning this way and that, trying to piece together constellations without actually lifting his head from the pillow, when he heard the other swear softly under his breath.
“What the fuck,” he whispered, sounding almost annoyed.
“What,” Satoru whispered back, “what is it?”
“Why are there so many people on the bus at 2am?”
He snorted and turned on his back. “What kind of people?” Before Suguru could answer though, he hurried to add, “Wait, wait, wait! Let me… put you on speaker phone,” he said as he struggled to see the buttons, “because my hands aren’t cooperating anymore.” The line was quiet for a moment, until he finally found the right one. “Alright! Now. What kind of people?”
“Hm. Well, there’s a teenage girl with really long braids, I think they go almost all the way to the floor, who either had really weird makeup, or she has been crying.”
“Typical of a 2am bus, she’s probably running away from home.”
“To go see her best friend who lives across the country?”
“No, dumbass, she’s running away from her idiot mother to live with her more gentle, but emotionally absent father.”
“Oh, I bet it’ll be a shitty surprise to find him so much happier with his new family.” Satoru could hear the smile in his voice and had to fight off one of his own. “Hey, what do you think about the grandma knitting in the back row?”
“God forbid a woman have hobbies, Suguru, geez!”
“I mean, I don’t know much about knitting, but I really wouldn’t say the bus is well lit enough for that.”
“Who knows, maybe she’s developed a sixth sense for it or something. Or maybe it’s got something to do with her cursed technique.” Suguru hummed at that, so he went on, curiously, “Do you feel any cursed energy coming from her?”
“No,” he answered, immediately. “There isn’t any cursed energy at all in here. No curses either, surprisingly.”
Good, Satoru thought. Suguru had worked hard enough already.
The more time went by, the more awake and energetic Satoru became, and the more quiet and tired Suguru grew. By the time the latter was walking up the stairs to the school, he was mainly giving monosyllabic answers, if even, while the former was going on about the breakfast he was already planning to make.
“You don’t need honey and syrup and vanilla sugar, Jesus,” Suguru grumbled.
“Just wait and see. It’ll be great, I promise!”
Finally, Satoru’s door opened. On the other side stood Suguru, mostly alright and alive, hand still up to his ear holding his phone. His shoulders were tight, but his face wore the shadow of a smile, and really, that was all Satoru could have asked for. He hung up, set the phone away and made space on his bed. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gotten to sleep holding Suguru in his arms and he was sure as hell not going to pass up the opportunity.
The latter walked up to him with uneasy steps, then collapsed on the bed. He smelled of blood and sweat, mixed with the acrid scent of curses. Still, Satoru found the smell of his energy slightly sweet. He buried his nose in Suguru’s hair and revelled in its softness. It felt thinner and duller than it used to. He wondered if he ate enough. Wondered if he should say anything or leave it for another day. Before he could make up his mind though, Suguru’s breaths evened out, and Satoru realised it wasn’t worth waking him up over it. He took off Suguru’s shoes and draped a blanket over him, wishing sleep would come to him just as easily.
Satoru picked up his phone. Flipped it around in his hand. Threw it back on the table and sat back, a resigned sigh escaping him just barely. He was alone, yet he opted to sit on the floor, between the coffee table and the couch. The hard floor was comforting and reassuring underneath him. He yanked off his glasses and flung them on the table, then ran his hands through his messy hair.
Satoru picked up his phone. Twirled it around in his hand. Opened it and closed it again. Turned it on, looked for the only contact he wasn’t allowed to call. The only one he wanted to. Clicked on it. Past conversations popped up, stupid and sweet, the latest dating back to a certain day, six months ago.
Furiously, Satoru typed in a message and sent it on impulse.
This isn’t fair, you know.
The moon shone through the open window, the cold winter air turning his fingers numb.
Enough fresh air. He set the phone on the floor and walked over to the window, closing it slowly and at length. He felt like he was moving in slow motion, his thoughts running to fast for him to catch up to them. That’s a new one.
He didn’t know why he’d done that. What he was expecting. What he wanted out of it. Was he going to use their chat as a diary now? Was that how low he’d gotten? His breath fogged up in front of him as he sighed. Satoru sat back down on the floor and picked up the phone again, lazily gazing over it, debating whether to delete the message.
He noticed stupidly, incredibly belatedly, he’d received an answer and almost threw the phone against the wall.
Satoru, are you drunk?
His heart sprung up to his throat and before he could stop himself, he was punching in an answer.
WHAT THE FUCK WHY DO YOU
STILL HAVE MY NR WHY DIDN’T
YOU AT LEAST BLOCK IT???
Almost immediately, his phone started ringing in his hand. Satoru’s eyes widened and he activated Infinity on instinct. It rang once, twice, until he unfroze and managed to answer. He brought a shaking hand to his ear, yet couldn’t really say anything.
They both sat in silence for so long, he’d thought the other had actually hung up. When his heart had finally slowed enough for him to move, Satoru was about to hang up himself. Then,
“I’m serious, have you been drinking?”
It was him, it really was Suguru, but it sounded so unlike Suguru, it was all he could do not to burst into tears.
Satoru choked on a shaky inhale, then answered, slow and scared of how his own voice would come out, “No, I have not.”
“Well-“ Suguru started, but cut himself off for a moment, before continuing a little louder- “are you dying?”
“Yeah, probably,” he answered, a whisper more than anything.
“Please don’t joke about that, Satoru-“
“Don’t-“ he cut him off, “don’t say my name. Like that.” Satoru’s eyes burned. His chest burned. Everything burned. He wanted to burn down the world.
“Like what?” Suguru waited for an answer for a long minute, but when he saw he wasn’t going to get one, he sighed, resigned. “Tell me about your day,” he said, and rustled something. Satoru bet he was laying down, pulling up a cover to his nose. It was ridiculous. All of this was just fucking ridiculous.
Satoru told him about his day. Even though he wanted to cry and scream and punch a hole through his wall. None of that would help, none of that could bring Suguru back his senses or make him realise what a hole he’d left behind.
He even had the courtesy of leaving out details about how Shoko had become a chain smoker since he’d left. Even though she hadn’t talked about what worsened her addiction, Satoru knew what had caused it. If he was being honest, he enjoyed the second hand nicotine as well, though he left out that detail as well. Suguru wouldn’t approve of it. He’d always talked about how second hand smokers are just cowards who can’t admit to themselves they like the nicotine as well and didn’t want to take responsibility for fucking up their lungs. Satoru liked that bit of quiet rebellion against his best friend’s ideologies.
So he stuck to the trivial stuff, like the new teacher that had transferred from Kyoto, or the movie he was planning to go and watch that weekend. He was almost able to refrain from whining about wishing they could go see it together.
Suguru caught that bit of honesty quickly and clung onto it like a lifeline. “Maybe we can…”
“Yeah, Suguru, let me go have a movie date with the guy who murdered an entire village, surely nobody would have a problem with that!”
“No one says we need to go to the same theatre, dumbass.” When he saw that he’d left the other speechless, he decided to turn on his laptop.
“Hold on, lemme see what theatres are playing it on Saturday- you wanted to go Saturday, right?”
Finally, Satoru came back to his senses, after practically having the air knocked out of him for the second time that night. “Yeah, yeah, Saturday would be best. But I guess Friday night works too, if that works better for you.”
Oh my god, he thought, I am actually going on a movie date with the guy who murdered an entire village…
Satoru couldn’t sleep. It had been almost a week since they had gone to the movies together and his fingers were itching to grab his phone and dial the number again. Had last week’s thing been a one time thing? Was he allowed to do it again?
No, of course he couldn’t call. If anyone found out even about last week, he would get into more trouble than he could probably talk himself out of.
He rubbed his eyes and wished he could stick his fingers in the sockets and yank the headache out from behind them. He needed sleep, damn it, since he’d last talked to Suguru, he hadn’t had a single full night of sleep and he slowly started to feel like he was losing his mind.
Sitting up, Satoru swung his legs over the bed. Maybe a splash of cold water would help him clear his mind. Or it might wake him up more. Warm tea, then. But he’d never liked unsweetened tea and the sugar would surely keep him up longer.
He was still undecided when his phone started vibrating on the night stand. Deep in thought as he was, he flinched so hard he almost slapped himself in the face. Jesus, again? he murmured to himself as he squinted at his phone, suddenly forgetting how to read. When his brain finally managed to gather up enough neurons to piece together “Suguru” on his screen, his throat closed up instantly. Satoru coughed, heart going a million miles an hour. He reached for the phone with unsteady fingers and answered.
“Hello?”
“Hey…” A pause, then, “Did I wake you?”
“I wish,” he answered, but his voice didn’t feel like it belonged to him, not really. “What’s up,” he asked, as if he wasn’t talking to a murderer.
“I missed your voice,” Suguru answered, as if he was just talking to his ex.
Satoru swallowed dry. Were they allowed to just say that? I missed you too, he wanted to say. I don’t know what to do with myself without you, he wanted to say. How am I supposed to go on with my life, he wanted to say. What came out instead was,
“This is so fucked up.”
On the other end, Suguru burst into laughter. Good, healthy laughter, that Satoru knew would help ease the tension in his shoulders a little. Laughter that Satoru just drank up, knowing he could drown on the sound of it and it would be a happy death devoid of regrets.
“No, seriously, if anyone finds out I’m talking to you, they’ll have my head on a platter.”
Once Suguru finally got a hold of himself, he said, voice still shaking a little, “It’s not like you’re fraternizing with the enemy.”
Satoru snorted. “That is literally what I’m doing though?”
Suguru sighed loudly and inelegantly and Satoru pictured him wiping away a tear and the smile off his face. In a tone that was only slightly more serious than before, he said, “I’m raising twins, did you know that?”
Satoru blinked. No, he had not known that. Before he could answer through, Suguru went on.
“Their names are Nanako and Mimiko.” He didn’t say how he’d gotten them and Satoru had a feeling he didn’t want to know. “Sorcerers,” he added, as if that was necessary. “One of them lost her first tooth today. I think I was more freaked out than both of them together.”
Satoru smiled. So they were really small, huh. Kinda like Megumi and Tsumiki. Funny.
“Like, obviously I kept it together for them, I mean it’s a tooth, for god’s sake. But like,” he went on, and Satoru let him, letting the sound of his voice dizzy him, turn his brain to mush, needing it like air and water. “I don’t- I think it’s cause it just dawned on me, like really dawned on me, that I am responsible for these children for the rest of their lives. My life, preferably. And God, they’re so small, they have so much ahead of them, and it’s me and only me who is supposed to make sure they grow up happy, make up for the lost time and their shitty parents. It’s me, all me. And I don’t know how-“
He was spiralling, Satoru realised, so he decided to put an end to it.
“Suguru. Hey. Stop. Shut up and breathe for a second, alright?”
It wasn’t like Suguru to lose his cool, ever, so he could only imagine how heavy this thing was weighing on him.
“It doesn’t all have to be you, you know. As long as I’m on this earth, you’re not alone.”
“Satoru.”
“Listen, it’s not too late, just-“
“Satoru! Stop. This isn’t what I need right now. You go on like this and I’m hanging up, you understand?”
Satoru bit his lip. Weighed his next words carefully, debated how ethically and morally wrong it was to say them, then decided to say them anyway, because they were true.
“You’re going to be a great dad to them. I mean it, they’re lucky to have you.”
A pause, in which neither of them really dared to say anything. Satoru brought his hand up to his mouth and bit off a piece of skin on his index finger that was annoying him. He’d moved on to his middle finger by the time Suguru replied, barely a whisper,
“You really think so?”
He spit out the dead skin. “Yeah. You’ve always been good with children, they’ve always loved you. Remember the kid from that mission in Yokohama, you let him play with Rainbow while we exorcized a curse feeding off his brother’s corpse?”
“It’s one thing to play with a kid once in a while and an entirely different one to raise two of them.”
“I know. Still. I think you’ve got the type of patience and elegance it takes to make a good human out of someone small.”
The type that I’m definitely lacking in, he didn’t add.
“Did I tell you I’m raising two kids as well?”
Would it have been anyone else, Satoru would have never risked putting Megumi and Tsumiki in danger for the sake of conversation.
But this was Suguru. And, well, that should be argument enough. Because no matter what happened outside of their little bubble, there was no universe in which Suguru would hurt him or his kids like that, just like there was no way in which Satoru would tell the higher ups where Suguru lived or what he did, even though he knew full well. It was still the two of them, against the world. Only that now, they were on different sides of the story.
Not that it made that big of a difference, anyway.
“Hello?” He picked up almost immediately.
“I’m a teacher,” Satoru blurted out. “Like, officially.”
Suguru took a moment to answer, then, in a dry tone, said, “Congratulations are in order, I suppose. Since I have none to give, I’ll rely on the fact that you’ve probably already sent yourself a gift basket, so you should be fine.”
Satoru fidgeted with the hem of his shirt and ripped off a loose thread. (Read: loosened.)
“Five, actually,” he said, smile wide on his face. “Each one with a different colour theme.”
“Are the cards also all signed by different people?”
“And assigned to arrive at different times.”
Suguru sneezed on the other end of the line. He’d always been sensitive to sunlight that way. Satoru used to think it was the cutest thing ever.
He ran a hand through his hair, waiting for a response that wouldn’t come. Was it a bad time? They didn’t talk during the day, it felt too risky. But this was something Satoru had felt couldn’t wait. He had known how Suguru would react and yet he needed to tell him. Some sick part of him couldn’t give up hope, wanted him to be happy for him, proud of him.
“Yeah, program’s gonna be a bitch though, since they’ll still need me to be a full-time sorcerer, plus all the classes and stuff, but hey, all for the next generation, right?” Suguru hummed at that, the type of hum that meant Satoru was being mocked. Annoyed, he went on, now only because he needed to crack Suguru.
“I mean the kids deserve a cool teacher like me, y’know? Someone young and new, who will make their lives so much better, someone who can change some-“
“Change? What the fuck do you want to change?”
Crack.
“What can you change by being a teacher and just being a part of the system?”
There it was.
“Everything. Bit by bit, Suguru, I’m not trying to burn it all to the ground and then build it back up by myself!”
“Why not? If anyone could, that’s you.” He sounded almost jealous about it. Satoru filed away that information for later.
“Because that’s how real life works, you idealistic prick! You want change, you start from within and you start with the young ones-“
“Miss me with that bullshit,” Suguru interrupted him. “There’s too much, too many things to work on, it would never work. If anyone’s idealistic, it’s you. And don’t call me a prick, bitch.”
“Yes, it will. At the very least, it will help the handful of kids who won’t grow up with those geezers teaching them!” Satoru was shouting. He didn’t dwell much on how or why it felt so good. Why he was angry in the first place.
“Help them how? Tell me, will they be sent on less missions? Will they die less on missions because you’ll be teaching them so good?”
“Maybe! I- I don’t.” Satoru felt out of breath, as if he’d run up a hill. “I don’t know. But if there’s anyone who could protect them from the higher-ups’ arbitrary fucking rules, if there’s anyone who can take their side and win, it’s me, alright?”
“So what, you’re just going off on a ‘maybe’,” Suguru asked, derisively.
“Oh, because you’re one hundred percent sure your little cult is going to achieve world peace?”
“I’m a hundred percent sure I’m not living a pretty lie I tell myself to sleep at night.”
Satoru snorted. “Who says I sleep at night, huh?”
Suguru had fallen quiet and Satoru could feel the beginnings of a headache forming at his temples. The only thing coming from the other end was the harsh wind hitting his phone.
“Satoru… Be honest with me- no. Be honest with yourself for a moment, please,” Suguru finally said. “What do you really think you’re going to achieve?”
Satoru gnawed at his lip and looked out the window, watching orange leaves dance through the air. “I’m going to fight to let kids keep their youth.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Well, it’s the only answer you’re getting, so deal with it.”
Suguru started laughing. At first, it was a small, quiet thing, but it eventually sounded like he genuinely couldn’t contain himself anymore, which made Satoru start laughing too. His laughter had always been contagious like that.
“Wh- What? What the fuck, are you ok over there,” Satoru asked finally.
“I’m fine,” he replied, still giggling. Satoru swallowed hard. God, how he’d missed laughing together over stupid shit . “It’s just- you sounded so much like you used to back in the day, like you’d reverted back to an arrogant, skinny teenager for a moment there.” There was a warmth in his voice that made Satoru’s eyes sting and his chest hurt.
“I’m still the same person, you know?” Still the one you used to love. The same who would have done anything and everything for you.
“God. I should hope not, otherwise you’ll end up traumatising those kids even more!”
The playful lilt to his tone meant the argument was over. They hadn’t gotten to a consensus, but that was ok. Satoru had known they wouldn’t. Couldn’t.
“You think?” Do you think I’ll be a bad teacher? Do you think I’ll grow to be just like the rest of them? Do you think they’ll hate me and hate coming to school every day, loathe every second they have to spend with me? Do you think-
“You’re gonna do great, Satoru. I don’t think you can change anything, I think you’re wasting your energy there, but that’s besides the point.” Suguru sighed, them after a moment of silence, added, “You’ve made your decision, chosen your path. And I’m sure you’ll make the best of it. You’re hot and smart, there’s no reason they shouldn’t love you.”
“You think I’m hot?”
Suguru ignored him. “You can teach them things from a new perspective, I’m sure. You’ll push them beyond their limits and make great sorcerers out of them. I know it.”
“I wish we could have done it together.” Satoru’s voice was small, afraid, almost.
“I- I’ve got to go. You shouldn’t call me anymore.”
Satoru knew. He was probably going to anyway.
“Alright.” Hold it together, he told himself. At least until you hang up.
“Bye, Satoru. Good luck with your new job,” he said and hung up.
Satoru wiped off the tear rolling down his cheek.
“Yeah. Thanks,” he said to the empty space around him. His chest hurt in a way he hadn’t felt since they’d first broken up, almost four years ago. It hurt like the world was ending all around him, yet he was forced to pretend it wasn’t. Had it ever felt the same way for Suguru?
He liked to pretend it did. He needed to think it had.
“I thought I told you not to call anymore.” He didn’t sound mad though, not that Satoru would have cared.
“I know, I just- Can we talk, please?”
“Something in particular or just in general?”
“Just talk…”
Satoru had been away all day long on a mission. It hadn’t been physically straining perse, but it had been complicated and time consuming, and he had gotten an embarrassing amount of injuries.
“Distracted,” he’d told Shoko later, but she’d looked at him weird, as if that was a lot, even if he had been distracted.
When he’d trudged back into his apartment, muscles sore, every cell in his body urged him to go straight to bed. He’d toed out of his shoes and thrown his jacket on the couch on his way to the bathroom. He’d looked in the mirror at his sorry state and only after seeing the dried blood on his face did he realise how itchy and dirty he was all over. He was dead tired, and really hadn’t wanted to deal with it, but after eyeing the bathtub for ten long seconds, contemplating how likely he was to fall asleep in it and die, he’d decided he liked his chances and turned on the water. While the steam soothed him and the hot water finally warmed up his feet, he still didn’t feel better.
He felt empty. He felt awful. He didn’t know why, but he did. Had been, since that morning, probably the reason why he’d been so… distracted during the mission. So he’d decided to try and call Suguru (even though part of him told him that would really only make it worse).
“Hm. Ok, alright.” Suguru thought for a moment, then, suddenly sounding more awake, said, “I went to that bakery you’d told me about, to get the twins their cake?” After Satoru hummed in acknowledgement, he continued, “They loved it. Mimiko said it was the prettiest cake she’d ever seen in her life and Nanako said it was the tastiest… So… Thanks for the recommendation.”
“You should get the pistachio cupcakes next time,” he said, sliding down until his mouth was barely above the water.
“Mnahh, they’re not fans of pistachio-“
“No, for yourself. They’re not as sweet as the rest and the cream is super light.”
“-oh. Ok, I will… Thanks.”
Satoru couldn’t stand the silence that fell between them again. “Hey,” he started, even though he was too tired to, “how come you get to tell me to stop calling, when you started this whole thing?”
“Yeah, well. You’re supposed to be the better one between us.”
“Oh, what a lazy excuse.”
Suguru snorted. Suddenly the water became too hot and he slid back up until he could rest his head against the wall.
“Your voice sounds weird.”
Yeah, I wanna kill myself, Satoru wanted to say, but before he could, Suguru added,
“Are you in the bathroom?”
Right. “Yeah, that’s uh- that’d probably why.”
“Oh my god, are you calling me while you’re taking a shit?”
“Ew, don’t be gross!” Satoru sighed and closed his eyes, banging his head against the wall as he spoke. “I’m taking a bath.”
“At three in the morning,” Suguru asked, incredulously.
“Yeah, I just got home like half an hour ago.”
“Oh. Hard mission?”
Satoru stopped banging his head against the wall. “Nah. Annoying mission.” It felt as if his brains had been turned to mush, and he couldn’t tell if that was the banging, or the overall mood.
Suguru hummed, then asked, “Are you ok?” His voice was soft, like he was genuinely worried, like he genuinely cared. Satoru desperately hoped he did.
“Pfff, I’m Satoru Gojo, of course I’m ok!”
“Satoru. Are you ok.”
Satoru didn’t even know why he’d tried to deflect.
“I’m tired.” Of everything and everyone. I’m tired of myself. “I’m tired of being me. Which, I know! I’m so entitled to even say that, I know, I’m so-“
“No. No, I get it. I do, you have every right to be, with how they’re treating you.”
Satoru switched his phone to his left hand and submerged his right under the water to warm it up. “But so many people wish they could be me. I’m so lucky.”
“You are, that’s true. Still. The people who wish they could be you don’t understand what it means to be you. Their opinion is irrelevant. And so is anyone’s opinion who tells you you’re wrong to feel this way.”
Satoru closed his eyes and sighed. His chest was still heavy and his head still hurt, but hearing Suguru helped.
It always did.
He didn’t know how he could have doubted it earlier when it really. Always did.
After a long moment, Suguru asked, “Hey, are you gonna be ok tonight?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah, yeah, I will. I can manage. Just gotta- Just gotta make some courage to get up, ‘s all,” Satoru replied, trying to sound more awake than he actually was.
“Right… So do you still need to talk or do you wanna get up and go to sleep so you can finally feel better?”
Satoru sighed dramatically. “I’m up, don’t worry. You’re right, I guess, sleep would do me good…” Suguru sighed in approval. “Thanks… For picking up. And talking, I guess.”
“Of course.”
Satoru gulped, throat closing up again. Yeah, definitely too tired.
“Right… So uhm. Good night, then,” he said, voice small. He hurried to add, “Don’t stay up too late!”
“I won’t, I promise,” Suguru replied, as if it wasn’t already three a.m.
“I-“ Satoru wanted to say something, anything, to keep him on the line. But for the first time in his life, he couldn’t think of anything. “Good night,” he repeated, finally.
“Good night, Satoru,” said Suguru, but he didn’t hang up, not even almost thirty seconds later. He waited.
Waited until Satoru was ready to do it himself.
He almost wished he hadn’t. It was only another burden put on his shoulders to bear. Why should he have to decide when to end it- when to end him, them? Did Suguru just want to see how far he could bend him, until he broke? Did Suguru even know he close he was to shattering in his hands? The latter had gotten used to him coming back like an elastic, every time he called, forgetting everything he’d ever done to wrong him just for two more minutes of his voice. Lately though, Satoru felt how his molecules were losing memory of their original shape and position.
Was that was Suguru wanted?
Excerpts from a voice message transcript from Dec 25th, 2017, from 02:13 to 02:47, from: Satoru.
“Why. Why did it have to end like this? Why couldn’t we be happy?
[…]
This isn’t fair, I know I’ve said this to you before, but you should hear it again. What you did wasn’t fucking fair. And I mean look where it’s brought us both. You’re dead and I- I had to … [a man is heard crying] What’s the point, hm? What’s the point in any of this? Try as I might to get over you, we both know I won’t be able to. I haven’t managed in the last ten years, why should I now?
[…]
Oh my god. Oh my god, Suguru, what if I forget your smile? What if I forget the sound of your laugh? I can’t remember if I have any videos of you laughing. Damn it, if we’d been born a couple years later, we would have had everything on our phones, I mean look at the kids these days, they film everything! [a shuffling sound, then a nose being blown] What do I do now? I feel like I should know this, I’ve kind of already gone through this, but it feels so far away, I don’t know if I can do it all over again… [the crying erupts again]
[…]
I love you, Suguru, I can’t believe I haven’t told you this before. I love you, I love you, I love you! Please give me another chance…
[…]
I wish we’d had more time. I know it’s useless, especially now, but I can’t help it, not really. Nor can I help wishing I could go back and try again, somehow… Do you think if we went back in time, we’d make the same mistakes? I’d be willing to try. Even if it meant doing it all over again. If even to just see you one more time.
[…]
Is it weird that I already miss you? I feel like it shouldn’t work that quickly… Well, to be fair, I’ve been missing you for like a decade now, so… Do you think I’ll ever stop missing you? I don’t know if I even want to. One day, when all I have left of you is the memory of having loved you, missing you will be a privilege. If I even live that long.
[…]
I uhm… I should go. I need to uhm. Be awake and alive tomorrow. The latter is optional, I think. I’m gonna try to do what I should have done a long time ago and stop calling you. Goodbye, Suguru. I will see you again, whether you are sent to heaven to meet me, or I am sent to hell to meet you, I rest assured we will meet again. And if not now, then in another life. And maybe then I’ll tell you how much I love you before I have to… [a muffled sob is heard] …Wouldn’t that already be an improvement?”