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Satoru is standing in the tall grass, his smile as bright as the sun.
It's not one of the fake smiles that only Suguru can tell the difference from. It's real and it's beautiful. It isn't a smile meant to go along with his mask of confidence and cockiness, it's one of pure joy. It’s Satoru being his true self, not trying to push everyone away and appease his clan.
The sun is hitting Satoru at just the right angle, he looks heavenly. The light breeze causes his beautiful white hair to sway. Suguru has the sudden urge to bury his hands into the soft hair and pull the other boy closer. He wants Satoru by his side, in his arms. He wants the boy to curl up and tuck him away into his chest to keep him safe. He wants his every breath to be to protect and worship the godlike being in front of him.
The blue eyes draw him closer. He sees the God he has worshiped since the start of time—his reason for living and existing, the recipient of his love.
Suguru has so much love for this man that it overflows. It trickles from his mouth as he speaks the other teen’s name like a prayer. It drips from his fingers that ache with the need to cling the young God closer to himself. It leeks from his ears as he listens to the lovely voice that blesses him by saying his name.
The boy in front of him should be worshiped. Shrines should go up just to honor the thought of him. He's Suguru’s everything. Hearing him speak his name is like being welcomed home and enveloped in a warm hug, promising to fulfill his every need. it's like he's the one being cherished. Like he is some uncorrupted thing worthy of Satoru’s love and attention.
The laugh that comes from those kissable lips makes Suguru want to laugh himself. It's real, making Suguru’s heart flutter like a bird trying to escape its cage. It's so pure and full of unhindered joy that it makes something swell in his chest, along with the desperate need to laugh with the other sorcerer.
He has no idea why Satoru is laughing. But he knows it has no ill intentions, no foul meaning, he can hear it’s honest. It reminds him of bike rides and trips to pastry shops, summer air, and childish fun.
He looks to the sky, soaking in the sun as he joins in, laughing softly with his god. Satoru’s laughing quiets down, and he stops to listen. He simply enjoys the sounds around him. He feels the soft breeze caress his skin, feels at peace and wants to stay like this forever. His love is pure and beautiful, his love is only Satoru’s to have.
Satoru’s soft voice carries in the wind like a bird’s song.
“Suguru, look at me.”
When he looks down at his lover, the sun has cast everything in red.
Suguru meets Satoru’s eyes. The dead stare back. They are glossed over. His beautiful blue eyes are now covered with a glossy white film. The blue is gone, and it won't come back. He’s never coming back.
The red swallows the blue. It surrounds his God until it is only bone, flesh, and more of that dark red. It strips his divinity until only corrupt morality is left. It tears at his soul, his Everything is standing there but he’s gone. He is dead, and it tears at his very being.
Red is everywhere, it's in Satoru’s hair and drips from his face. It pours from his neck and the long gash down his chest, standing out against the white of his shirt. It's staining the right leg of his pants in several patches, all starting to blend in together. It stains the grass around him. Blood, there is so much of it. It can’t all be Satoru’s. His God cannot bleed. He shouldn't bleed, no harm should come to him. Suguru was supposed to protect him. He failed. He failed his God, his purpose. He has no one.
Suguru cannot breathe, his God, the reason for his existence, is dead. Satoru stands before him like a vengeful spirit, seeking retribution for the sins his believer has committed. His glossy eyes stare at him and it feels heavy. Blood still flows from him like a small fountain. Suguru can smell iron and rotting flesh.
Sobs erupt from his chest, his grief is too much, too big. He cannot live, they were supposed to be unstoppable. They were supposed to be together and be there for each other. Satoru was his one and only.
The smell worsens and he tries to cover his face, hide from the sight of his Everything like this. His hands feel wet and hot. He looks down and sees red. So much red. It covers his hands like gloves and he can't stop staring.
“Suguru?”
His head snaps up and meets dead eyes again. They continue to stare at him. Red leaks from his eyes and stains his pale skin. The corpse’s lips move.
“Suguru, please, I don’t want to go. I’m scared.”
Suguru moves forward, stretching his hand out for Satoru to take. He has to touch him, he can’t leave Satoru standing there like this. He deserves better than that. He has to check. Maybe Satoru is still alive, maybe it’s a trick. He cannot lose faith in his God.
Before he can reach Satoru, a bang echoes out, followed by a ringing in his ears.
No, no no no no no no no no no no.
He watches as Satoru falls onto the dirt, his faded blue eyes are staring at him from where he lays. More blood steadily seeps from the hole in his head. It seeps into the ground, which eagerly drinks it up. Like it’s in a drought, and Satoru’s blood is the most nutritious liquid it has ever been blessed with. The ringing in his ears gets louder and more intense.
The red stains everything, overwhelming the thirst of the ground. It soaks up all the sins he has committed, all his mistakes. The grass is soaked in the spray of blood. Satoru stares up at him like he has answers. He can’t look at him like this, it hurts everything in him to see Satoru like this.
Suguru looks down at his hand that is reaching out for Satoru. His hand is still covered in hot and sticky red, but in it, he holds a gun.
Suguru wakes up disoriented, sweaty, and with tears rolling down his face. His hair sticks to his neck, and the blankets over him hold too much heat. His mind can’t focus on anything in his haze of grief and hurt. His chest constricts, and his stomach threatens to empty itself. His skin doesn’t feel right.
“Suguru, is everything okay?”
The sorcerer turned to his side so fast that his neck popped. He doesn't know what happened, what was a dream, and what wasn’t. He can’t even remember it all, but he knows it was bad. Satoru was gone. His Blue Rose was taken from him. He couldn't save him.
He killed him.
He sees those beautiful blue eyes peek up at him. They seem to glow in the dark of the room. All the uneasiness and hurt he felt melted away, like his sins had been cleansed just by looking into the eyes of his one and only. More tears seemed to erupt from him at that moment. He couldn't help but choke on the cry that pushed past his chapped lips.
Satoru is immediately alert, pushing himself up in their shared bed and wrapping his arms around Suguru. He pulls Suguru close and settles into his lap until nothing can separate their chests. Not until Suguru could feel the other’s cool skin touch his.
“Suguru, what happened? Is something wrong? What is it?”
Suguru can't speak right now, not with the waves of relief washing over him. Satoru is alive, he's breathing and he's here with him. He isn't hurt and bleeding, he's safe.
Satoru pulls his head back from where he rests it on the dark-haired boy’s shoulder. Suguru can feel Satoru’s cool hands in his hair and shoulder. He's letting him know he isn't going anywhere. It makes more tears fall from his eyes. He meets Satoru’s gaze and takes in the beauty of his Blue Rose.
“I love you.”
His voice is hoarse and shaky but he knows Satoru gets it. He knows that Satoru understands that whatever happened scared him, that it had something to do with him. Satoru takes his hand, one that he unconsciously rests on the small of the other teen’s back when hugging him closer. Satoru puts his hand on his chest, right over his heart.
“It’s okay, Suguru. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I love you too, so much. I’m right here.” Satoru’s soft voice comforts him better than his mother ever could. His gentle purrs of reassurance eventually calm him down enough that tears stop falling from his eyes.
He manages to pull himself together enough to pull away from Satoru. He looks him in the eyes and brings his hands up to caress his face. He takes in how the skin is blood-free, with no gaping wounds or bloodstained hair.
Satoru is looking at him like he’s the most important thing in his life. Like he’s Satoru’s everything. Suguru kisses him, his love for this man overwhelming him to the point that he has to physically express it.
He kisses and kisses Satoru and knows that he would be happy to die with this boy. He wants to spend the rest of his life with him. However short it may be.
When they break apart Satoru’s glossy lips are red and puffy, he looks beautiful. His lover smiles at him, soft and full of warmth. Suguru can't help but pull him closer to him, smother him with his own skin. Impossibly long limbs and pale skin contrast beautifully against his own. Suguru sets his head against the other’s nape to breathe in sugary soap and the natural smell that is just Satoru.
He feels safe now, steady and at ease now that his arms are full of Satoru. Whatever that horrible nightmare was, it’s at the back of his mind. His boyfriend is safe and protected in his arms.
Time feels slow in those moments, with limbs curled around each other. Satoru’s head rests on his shoulder, tickling his neck with each breath. He twitches now and then, struggling to stay awake. Suguru smiles softly, letting his hands smooth over Satoru’s skin and tracing out random patterns.
He loves that Satoru lets him touch him. His skin is soft and smooth. No one else has that privilege. Only he gets to hold Satoru like those, love Satoru like this.
“Is… Is there anything I can do? You scared me, I thought you were hurt.” Satoru’s soft lips mumble against his skin.
His hand stops as his fingertips graze the knotted skin on Satoru’s neck. It trails down from his collarbone. He follows it, adjusting so that Satoru is still comfortable. The harsh jagged line trails down the other’s chest. It is almost gone, just a little razed line but it feels huge under his fingertips. He can’t imagine what pain the other must have felt, how alone he must have felt.
But he does know, because when Satoru has nightmares just like his he can’t keep it inside. The memory of Satoru’s flushed face as tears roll down his eyes, his ragged breath as he tries to talk. Satoru shared what it was like with him. Told him how painful it was to be sewn back together with RCT, how it took hours of just lying there in the setting sun as he fought to save his body.
“It’s almost gone, if the elders let us have another few days I should have enough energy to heal the rest of it.” Pale fingers trail at where the ‘X’ across his chest would be, Satoru must see the residuals of the cursed blade. “I’m glad Shoko was able to heal it so there wouldn’t be a scar.”
Satoru yawns and Suguru realizes that he must still be exhausted if he thinks the elders would give them any more than two days. He lays them down back in bed, only using a few of the blankets that Satoru piles onto the bed. Satoru could cling to him for warmth rather than twenty blankets.
“I am too.” Suguru smiles softly at Satoru. The taller teen kisses the top of his head as he adjusts so the other sorcerer can snuggle closer.
Only when Satoru is completely comfortable does he continue to talk. “It scared me too. I haven’t had one in a while, though the shrink says I will probably get them a lot until I completely realize that he can’t hurt you anymore. And that I will be able to stop anyone before they can hurt you.”
“I can’t believe we're in therapy,” Satoru continues after a moment. “Look at us, being grown-ups and getting help instead of burying it deep down and hating ourselves for the rest of our lives. I’m proud of us.” Satoru chuckles, hugging Suguru closer to his chest.
Satoru never fails to make him smile, even after a nightmare as horrible as that one.
“I’m proud of us too, my Blue Rose.”