Chapter Text
Eight months. It took them eight months to see each other again.
Months of looking for him in every wisp of black hair and seeing him in every smile, too loud laugh, and curse. Thinking about him every second of every day, going over everything he did wrong, everything he could have prevented if his eyes had been working.
He thinks about what Suguru said to him on the day he made Satoru choose between taking his life or turning his back on the world. It was never a choice.
Are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru or are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest?
What the fuck did Suguru mean when he said that. At this point, Satoru must have replayed that moment hundreds of thousands of times. How could he do that to him; let him flounder around trying to understand how momentous and life altering that sentence was for Satoru. Suguru knows how useless he is at words, he must have known Satoru would spend the rest of his life trying to decipher his incomprehensible poetry.
It wasn’t even noon yet and Satoru could already tell he would waste away another day thinking about him. How could he not, the sky was clear and blue, the wind was twisting the strands of his hair, and Suguru should be here.
Sometimes, when he's sent out on a mission he catches himself having fun and turning to Suguru to joke around or tease him. But he's never there. Not anymore. Never again. And every time his heart breaks into a million more pieces. How did it come to this?
Satoru kept having to adjust his sunglasses to make way for the tears, but ultimately it wouldn't matter, no one was there to look at him. Instead, he focused on kicking a can he had found on the street. It was a quiet town and he was tired after exorcising a curse. It would've been a good curse for Suguru. Powerful enough to warrant ingesting but cute enough for him to play with. He would have laughed at that. Maybe. Probably.
Maybe this time he could convince Shoko to go out drinking with him. She kept smoking through more and more packs every day and the tobacco smell would never fully wash out of his clothes. Maybe Suguru-
Suguru.
But it couldn't be. Satoru hadn't felt his cursed technique since the day he left him behind.
It couldn't be.
He stopped in his tracks, too cowardly to look up and come undone again. It wasn't fair, did Suguru feel the same way? Does he agonize over him too? No he probably doesn’t because he’s the one who left. This time, Satoru would make the right choice, no more obsessing over the boy who never loved him as much as he did.
Satoru could not look up, but his desperation won out.
It had been 243 days since Suguru left him in the middle of that busy street. And there he was again. Satoru froze and stared. He was standing right there in front of him. Alive and beautiful. Better than any picture he'd hoarded even though Shoko has told him to throw them away, burn them, anything. Tears pricked his eyes, his throat closed up. He stood there, smiling. His hair was longer and his eyes looked heavier. But it was him, his six eyes knew. Satoru knew.
“Oh come on Satoru, it's like you've seen a ghost. Has it been that long already?” Suguru said in the same teasing tone he always used with him. As if everything were normal.
He couldn't think, how could he be standing there after so much deafening silence? After 350,400 minutes of agonizing over the weight of his absence, how the smell of his cologne had disappeared from their dorms.
“I-” there's so much to be said but Satoru didn't know what to start with. I miss you? I need you? How could you leave me? I love you?
After too much hesitation on his part, Suguru began, “Look I'm not here to fight, I came to ask for a favor.”
A favor? Anything. But he couldn't say that, Suguru was a wanted criminal, a murderer, a friend. And it hurt just to look at him. Suguru must have seen the puzzled look on his face because he continued on.
“I wouldnt be here if it wasn't-” he paused as a look crossed over his face that Satoru had never seen before, “it's the girls.” Sudden desperation overtook Suguru, the kind only a loving parent could conjure, “I- I don't know where they are. I woke up today and they'd just,” a deep breath “disappeared.” He was agitated and couldn’t stop pulling at the ends of his hair. Satoru couldn’t remember the last time he'd seen him this nervous. Was it the first time they met? No, Satoru had been the nervous wreck, not him.
He was interrupted by Suguru coming closer to him, looking directly into his eyes with that piercing purple gaze of his that always made him melt. “Please, Satoru, are you with me?”
Satoru stared at him, soaking up the creases between his eyebrows, the way the sun shone on his hair, the way his hair moved in the spring wind. Huh, it was spring already, he hadn't noticed.
“Hey, I need you here with me right now.” A hand lifted to rest against Satoru’s cheek. It was warm and soft and everything he remembered and so, so gentle. He felt like crying. Instead, he leaned in a little, just a little.
“I’m here” he let himself sigh, “what do you need.”
Suguru smiled and Satoru almost burst into tears. He was so beautiful.