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Satoru tenses up as soon as Shoko’s eyes fall on the closed door in his apartment.
“Don’t,” he warningly says, because he can guess what’s going to come but of course Shoko is not deterred.
“Satoru, is it still—”
“You know it is,” he harshly cuts her off, defensively crossing his arms in front of his chest.
Shoko gives him a look and Satoru refuses to acknowledge how pitying it is.
“Don’t you think—“
“Shut up,” he interrupts her yet again and she’s not even mad because they have been doing this for so long. Too long.
“It’s been ten years, Satoru,” Shoko reminds him.
“Almost,” he corrects her, because it hasn’t been.
Not yet. Even though it’s really not far off anymore and Satoru does very empathetically not want to think about this.
“He’s not coming back,” Shoko cruelly says and just hearing it makes Satoru’s eyes burn.
“You don’t know that,” he whispers, unable to hold her gaze for any longer but he does hear the incredulous huff she lets out.
“Have you heard from him?” she asks but Satoru stays quiet because she knows the answer to that. “Has he reached out? Contacted you in any way?” Shoko gives him a moment to refuse to answer before she mercilessly goes on. “If he hasn’t reached out to you in ten years, don’t you think it’s safe to assume that he’s gone? That he won’t be coming back?”
Satoru grinds his teeth together, clenching his jaws hard and preferring that pain over the one in his chest.
“I think you should move,” Shoko softly finishes and Satoru knows that she’s saying this because she’s worried for him, but he doesn’t want to hear it.
“And I think you should leave,” he bites out, getting up and vanishing into his own room, leaving Shoko behind in the living-room.
It’s not the first time he leaves her there for saying something like that and it most likely won’t be the last, because Satoru refuses to move or even get rid of Suguru’s room.
It will stay there until Satoru dies or Suguru comes back, whichever comes first.
Satoru refuses to admit that at this point it seems to be more likely that he dies first, because for all the time that has passed since Suguru left without a word, he’s still not able to accept the kind of pain it would cause him to get rid of Suguru’s room.
He’s sure he never will be.
Satoru presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, enjoying the sparks that go off behind his eyelids because it’s something to concentrate on besides the hollow feeling in his chest.
He got pretty good at ignoring it over the past ten years, but it’s always there, it always hurts and sometimes Satoru hates Suguru for doing this to him. Hates himself for letting Suguru do this in the first place, for being unable to let go of him.
Satoru hears Shoko leave and that means he’s alone again, in this apartment that is haunted by Suguru.
The door to Suguru’s room barely gets opened; once a month to dust it off, but that’s it. Satoru doesn’t dare to go in there, doesn’t dare to see everything Suguru left behind, deemed unimportant enough by him in his haste to get away from Satoru.
Satoru presses his lips together. He’s not going to cry. He already cried enough in the past and he’s not going to.
The burning of his eyes mockingly calls him a liar and it’s not even as if he can refute that.
As much as he loves seeing Shoko, he also hates it. If they meet here, they usually end up like this because Shoko can’t keep her mouth shut and Satoru can’t accept that Suguru might be gone forever.
It’s not something that can be compromised on.
“Fuck,” Satoru mutters and sits up in his bed.
His vision is blurry from the tears he’s not crying and now that he’s alone again, he’s restless. He doesn’t know what to do with himself in this apartment that was meant for two, that was meant to house another body and soul besides his.
Shoko would hate to see him like that, Satoru thinks with a bitter twist of his mouth and he cuts his thoughts off there because thinking about what Suguru would think about all of this only leads down a spiral Satoru no longer has the strength to come back from.
He gets off his bed and his feet carry him to Suguru’s door. It’s tightly locked, liked it always is and Satoru rests his forehead against the door.
“Fuck,” he says again and this time, there’s no way to hide how wet his voice sounds.
It’ll be ten years soon. Ten years since Suguru simply up and left without a single word to Satoru or Shoko or any of their other friends. Ten years since Satoru has been on his own and it still hurts as if it were the first year.
Satoru wonders if this will ever end.
~*~*~
Tomorrow marks the ten year anniversary of Suguru’s disappearance. Satoru has a reminder set on his phone for masochistic purposes, but it’s not as if he can ever forget that date, even if he tried.
It wasn’t so remarkable at first; Suguru tended to come home, always, reliably, but Satoru didn’t worry much on that very first day. It was on the second day, that he started to think something was wrong and by the fifth he was a full-blown mess, convinced that Suguru laid dead in a ditch somewhere.
But no body had been found, no hospital housed a patient fitting Suguru’s description. He was simply gone; vanished, as if he’d never been there in the first place except for all the little traces he left behind.
Except for all the things Satoru remembers.
Satoru is sitting at the kitchen table, in Suguru’s usual spot—because for this he always does, even though the rest of the year that chair goes unused—his phone in front of him.
Suguru’s number has been deleted in a fit of anger by Shoko a few years back; completely useless because of course Satoru knows his number by heart. He called it a lot in the first year, wrote even more, always without a reply.
But so far the number hasn’t gone out of service, he hasn’t been blocked and Satoru is always able to leave a voice message so someone must regularly listen to it. Or delete them.
Either way it allows Satoru to call that number, now only once a year. Always right before the anniversary of Suguru’s disappearance.
But this year, this year Satoru thinks that maybe Shoko is right. Maybe it’s time for him to move on, to let it go, to accept that Suguru wants nothing to do with him, walked out of his life without a second thought because he couldn’t bear to be around him anymore, because it meant nothing.
These thoughts make him so sick that Satoru feels like throwing up and he knows that it’s not good or healthy or even normal to be this affected—to be this stuck—after ten years.
It’s time.
He puts in Suguru’s number and patiently waits for the call to go to voice-mail, just like it always does. Satoru starts the timer as soon as the beep goes off, because he was cut off enough times in the past to know better now.
“Hello, Suguru,” he starts, his voice just as shaky as it always is. “I don’t know if you know, or if you even care, but tomorrow marks the ten year mark. Ten years. I’ve been missing you for ten years now and I think—maybe it’s enough.” He takes a deep breath. “You’re not going to come back, I have to accept that at one point. Shoko yelled at me again, you know, because I still keep your—she’s worried,” he rushes out, unwilling to reveal that all of Suguru’s things are still here. He doesn’t want Suguru to know just how pathetic he really is. “I’ve been missing you for longer than I ever knew you, isn’t that kind of fucked up? Ten years to—what? Two, three? Time with you flew and it still never felt like enough. It never will.”
The timer runs away, reminding Satoru that he needs to wrap this up if he doesn’t want to be cut off mid-message.
But he doesn’t have much more to say, anyway.
“I miss you,” Satoru chokes out, and he hates the fact that he can never say this without crying. “I hope you’re safe and happy and that you don’t think about me as much as I think about you. Shoko would slap me over the head for this, but you deserve better than that.” Suguru has always deserved better in Satoru’s eyes, no matter in what regard. He just hopes Suguru can live a good and happy life, without regrets. “Goodbye, Suguru.”
Satoru hangs up right before the machine would have cut him off and it’s just as well because he feels as if he’s choking on his sobs.
He really doesn’t know how he’ll get through the day tomorrow and he’s not sure he even wants to.
~*~*~
Satoru wakes up late, his eyes swollen because he cried himself to sleep. He tries not to think about it.
For a moment he doesn’t know why he woke up at all, but then there’s a knock on his door and Satoru buries his face in his pillow.
“Fucking go away, Shoko,” he mutters, because who else would it be.
She knows of the significance of this day and it wouldn’t be the first she spends together with him. Usually she shows up later, though.
The knocking doesn’t stop, the unwanted visitor unwilling to go and leave Satoru to wallow in his misery in peace and so he eventually drags himself out of bed, not bothering to make himself any more presentable than he is.
May the person always know that he’s miserable and they were interrupting his pity-party.
The knocking continues; it’s not overbearing but it comes in steady intervals and that almost makes Satoru more mad.
“The fuck can be so important today?” he mutters, dragging the sleeves of his—Suguru’s, once upon a time—sweater down over his hands, before he reaches out to yank the door open.
Only for time to come to a complete standstill.
“Yo, Satoru,” Suguru says, with a little wave of his hand. “Long time no see.”
Satoru doesn’t dare to blink. The man in front of him looks like Suguru but it can’t be.
Suguru left.
“Who are you?” Satoru hears himself ask and Suguru’s face falls.
“Satoru, it’s me,” he gives back. “Suguru.”
“No.” Satoru shakes his head. “You left.”
“I’m home now,” Suguru replies and just like that Satoru’s hand snaps out.
He slaps Suguru, hard, his face turning with the force of it but Suguru doesn’t step back, doesn’t move except for his head.
“I guess I deserve that,” he mutters, massaging his cheek.
“You left,” Satoru stresses again and he hates that there are tears forming in his eyes.
“And now I’m back. I’m back, Satoru,” Suguru whispers, dropping the bag he’s carrying and stepping forward, pulling Satoru in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”
Satoru is stock-still in Suguru’s arms, even though he’s warm and solid and real and there right until Suguru’s smell hits him.
He still smells the same like ten years ago and it’s all Satoru needs to start sobbing for real, to bury his face in Suguru’s shoulder and cling to him as if he could slip through his fingers at any moment now.
“I know,” Suguru quietly says and he sounds suspiciously choked up as well. “I’m sorry, Satoru, I’m so sorry.”
Satoru doesn’t know how long they stay like that but eventually they part, though Satoru can’t quite bring himself to completely let go of Suguru. He needs to keep a hand on him at all times, in case Suguru wants to disappear again.
“Can I come in?” Suguru asks, as if he isn’t already standing mostly in the hallway, but Satoru still nods, still tugs on his arm, thinking that if he can just get him inside, if he can just close the door behind him, maybe Suguru won’t leave again.
There are a million questions Satoru wants to ask him; where he’s been, how he’s been, if he’s alright, if he’s good, if he was happy but the only thing that leaves Satoru’s mouth is a whispy soft “Why?”
Satoru knows Suguru understands when his face twists with sadness.
“Lets sit down, okay?” he asks, and Satoru can’t take his eyes off him, so of course he notices when Suguru’s eyes fall on his old room.
“Finally got the office you always wanted, huh?” Suguru tries to joke, but his voice cracks over the words and Satoru has to blink new tears away.
“I kept it like it was,” he admits, wonders why it’s so easy to say now when he couldn’t yesterday on the phone and Suguru’s eyes go big.
“You kept it?” he asks and immediately goes over, though he freezes when he looks inside and all of his things accusingly stare back at him.
“I—cleared all the food out but otherwise—” Satoru trails off and this time when Suguru whirls around and pulls him into a hug, he immediately melts into it.
Satoru isn’t sure how many of these he’ll get before Suguru will leave again.
“It’s been ten years,” Suguru says as if that should mean anything, as if that alone should have made Satoru move on, and maybe it should have.
“So you do know,” Satoru mutters.
“You’re not the only one keeping track,” Suguru gives back, pressing a lingering kiss to Satoru’s forehead. “I have missed you so much,” he breathes out and Satoru lets out a bitter laugh.
“Is that why you wouldn’t come home for ten goddamn years?” he bites out and Suguru looks as if he wants to cry.
Good, a vicious, mean little part of Satoru thinks. Let him suffer like I did.
“I couldn’t, Satoru. I wanted to, gods, did I want to, but I couldn’t.”
“Why not, Suguru? Why the hell not? Give me one good reason why,” Satoru almost yells at him and he had envisioned this a lot but never did he imagine himself to be so goddamn angry with Suguru.
“Your family,” is all Suguru says before he heavily sits down on the couch and just that image is enough to drown out all the anger Satoru feels.
Suguru is home.
“What do they have to do with anything?” Satoru asks, sitting down next to Suguru and scooting close, carefully, in case Suguru minds.
Instead of looking at him funny or even moving further away, Suguru slings his arm around his shoulder and pulls him right into his side.
“Come here, Satoru,” he whispers, his voice shaking as if the memory of the past ten years they spent apart hurts him just as much as they do Satoru.
“Answer me, Suguru,” Satoru pleads with him, even as he snuggles into his side. “What do they have to do with this? Why did you leave me like that?”
“I hated every second of it, I just want to start with that,” Suguru gives back, turning his face to bury it in Satoru’s hair. “I have missed you so much.”
It sounds sincere, just like the way Suguru shakes seems real, but as long as Satoru doesn’t know what made Suguru leave, he can’t trust it.
He needs to know why he left, to be able to belief that he’s back now.
“Suguru,” he reminds him and Suguru lets out a deep sigh.
“Your family approached me,” Suguru starts, not taking his face away from Satoru’s head and his breath tickles Satoru’s scalp. “You know they hate that you left the family, the business. They wanted you back.”
“Why go to you for that?” Satoru asks with a frown, because he always expected his family to make a move directly.
“They blamed me,” Suguru admits with a shrug, resting his cheek on Satoru’s head now to be able to speak more freely. “They thought it was my fault you left everything behind. And of course they didn’t listen when I told them that I had nothing to do with that. They gave me an ultimatum.”
“An ultimatum,” Satoru repeats and slings his arms around Suguru’s middle. “Did they threaten you?”
“They threatened you,” Suguru corrects him. “They had this—elaborate scheme at the ready; it would have destroyed everything you build up for yourself. And I know you want to say that we could have worked through that, but Satoru, remember how they are. It wasn’t just empty threads. They had a meticulously crafted plan, with the single goal to destroy everything you had to make you crawl back to them.”
Satoru wants to scoff, wants to joke about this, but he knows his family. If they thought they could get him back, then they wouldn’t stop for anything.
“What did they plan?” Satoru wants to know, his voice barely audible and Suguru lets out a harsh breath.
“It’s not important anymore,” he tries but Satoru shakes his head, pulls away so he can look Suguru in the face.
“Tell me.”
Suguru hesitates for a moment longer before he deflates. “They would have started small,” he starts, his gaze faraway, clearly recalling the talk he had with them. “Difficulties with your bank account, your health care, rent. Defamation. They were prepared to make sure you lose your job, your apartment, anything to make you come back to them.” Suguru stops there but Satoru can tell that there’s still more.
“Suguru,” he breathes out and Suguru bites his lip before he clicks his tongue.
“They had a fabricated case at the ready. Witness reports, forged police data, everything.”
Satoru is sure he’s not going to like the answer, but he still has to ask. “For what charge?”
“Child molestation,” Suguru whispers and of course, Satoru thinks with a sick sort of satisfaction.
He’s a teacher; of course they would have gone down that road. It would have made him come crawling back home, because with a record like that, there’s no way Satoru would have found work anywhere.
“They would have made sure that you could never teach again.”
“What did they—want from you?” Satoru asks, instead of thinking any more on how fucked his life could have been if his family went through with that.
“Like I said, they thought I was the real reason you wouldn’t come back. They never considered that you simply didn’t want to. They accused me of doing that, of being the driving force behind your back. So they gave me a choice. It was either me leaving or they would go ahead with their plan.”
“It doesn’t make sense, Suguru,” Satoru says with a shake of his head. “I didn’t go back, even when you were gone. They could have still done all of that.”
“It was a deal, Satoru. You forget how incredibly, stupidly honorable your family is. We have it in print and all, and it says that if I leave, with no explanation, no contact at all, for ten years, they wouldn’t hurt you, no matter what. No matter if you went back to them or not.”
“But ten years—”
“I tried for five, but your family wouldn’t budge,” Suguru says with a bitter smile. “I guess they wanted me out of your life very badly and thought ten years would ensure that you’d forget all about me.”
Satoru’s gaze falls back to Suguru’s room.
“I never forgot you,” he gets out and Suguru takes his hand in his.
“I know. I listened to all of your messages. I know that you didn’t and I’m sorry. I also understand—after your message yesterday I wasn’t sure if I should even come back. If you want me gone again, I can do that. I would understand. I just—I guess I just wanted to make sure that you don’t hate me for no reason. I wanted to at least explain.”
“It would have been so much easier if I could hate you,” Satoru admits because then he probably wouldn’t have suffered like this for the last ten years.
Still, there’s a little worry, he can’t shake, not even with Suguru’s explanation.
“So you didn’t leave because of me?” he asks, his voice small and he feels stupid for even having to ask that but Suguru only squeezes his hand.
“I left for you,” he tells him and raises their hands to press a kiss to the back of Satoru’s. “And if you want me to, if you can’t look past this, then I’ll do so again.”
That makes Satoru panic.
“Don’t. Don’t ever leave again, Suguru,” he says and twists around, clinging to Suguru again. “Stay.”
“If you’ll have me,” Suguru whispers, holding Satoru just as tightly as he’s holding him. “I’ll gladly stay.”
There are a lot more things to talk about and Satoru is more than sure that a few fights are in their future as well, because he can still feel the anger boiling inside of him but right now, Satoru is too tired.
“Let’s—can you—” he can’t find the words to ask Suguru if he’ll go to bed with him, just to be close but even after all these years, Suguru understands him perfectly.
“Of course,” Suguru agrees and gets up, pulling Satoru along with him towards Satoru’s room, where he makes a beeline for his bed.
It doesn’t take long for them to get situated, slotting together as if they have always done this and when Satoru hears Suguru’s heart beat under his ear, he has to fight against the tears again.
“I’m here,” Suguru whispers, carding his fingers through Satoru’s hair, because of course he knows and Satoru scoots up until he can hide his face in Suguru’s neck.
“Don’t leave again,” Satoru pleads and Suguru presses a kiss to his head as he reaches out for Satoru’s hand, tangling their fingers together.
“Never again,” Suguru promises and Satoru takes it.
Suguru is back and for the first time in ten years, Satoru falls asleep happy.