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Suguru doesn’t remember what they were talking about before. It’s all a wash of aimless banter under a golden sky as another day, another forgettable mission, comes to an end. Forgettable because the job was easy— and for the two of them together, doubly so— but not unpleasant either, passing hours with Satoru by his side.
They take the long way back to the train, letting their feet carry them through a quaint neighborhood on the far side of Tokyo. They crest a hill and the sky opens up before them in a truly spectacular sunset. It’s enough to catch Suguru’s breath.
He can’t recall what started it, what thread of conversation they were following the moment before— only how Satoru brings it all to a sudden halt.
“There’s so much to see while I still can.”
Suguru trips over his own two feet.
“Hey, careful Sugu—”
“What did you say?”
“Huh?” He knows it’s a trick of the light, but Satoru’s features look almost flushed from the way the setting sun bathes his usually stark-white hair and fair skin in soft pinks and golds. The blue of Satoru’s eyes remains vivid as always, unchanging, as though those eyes are lit with their own peculiar light.
Peculiar like the perplexed look on Satoru’s face. “Zoning out on me, Suguru?” he accuses with a teasing smirk. “Just thinking how the colors are great tonight, you know? There’s so much to see. Hey, you know the planetarium reopens this weekend, yeah? We gotta check it out, there’s a new exhibit—”
“No, no,” Suguru stops him before he can get too far ahead. “Not that. What you said about… ‘While I still can’?”
Satoru nods, like, Oh, that little old thing. Like it’s nothing. It’s not nothing. Suguru feels a hot bolt of irritation, maybe panic. He’s unsure exactly which but it’s a heady cocktail either way.
“What are you saying?”
“Eh.” Satoru has the audacity to shrug. He keeps walking, a couple steps ahead, but Suguru isn’t willing to take one more step until he gets an actual explanation.
“Satoru.” He digs in his heels. “What does that mean?”
“I forget you didn’t grow up with this stuff.” Satoru sighs. He’s looking at the horizon now, not a Suguru at all, but there’s no tightness in his jaw when he explains, “It’s a well-known side-effect. Six Eyes will burn out my optic nerve. Takes years, a couple decades give-or-take, but I’ll go blind eventually.”
“Blind.”
“Yep.”
“It’s certain? You- you’re just okay with that?”
“I mean, I have to be.” Satoru doesn’t look upset. Why is he not upset? “I’ll still have the technique, all of the extra-sensory vision. I’ll still be able to see, just not…. not how other people do.”
Not how you do, he doesn’t say. Suguru hears it anyway.
He can’t help his staring. This future Satoru describes, he can’t imagine it, can’t believe it. He can’t just accept it. Clearly Satoru has accepted this eventuality, and maybe if Suguru had ever lived a day with his gifts he would understand Satoru’s strange calm.
His technique will fill in the gaps. Maybe that makes up for the loss, or maybe it doesn’t, but Satoru has apparently made his peace with it either way.
“How long have you known? How old were you when you learned… what you would lose?” Because Suguru can’t even say it. How cowardly, that he can’t even say the words?
Satoru hums. He twirls a bottle of sweetened tea idly in his hands, tossing it. Suguru feels like that— all shaken up.
“Not sure. I guess I was probably six or seven.”
“Christ.”
“What?”
“That’s…” Too much, he wants to say. Too much for a boy of six or seven. But who is he to talk? They both know what it is to be burdened with things that no child ever should.
That doesn’t make it right. That doesn’t make it fair, but this is what it means to be a jujutsu sorcerer. That is what Suguru tells himself as his stomach roils within him: as the strongers, their sacrifices to protect the most vulnerable in society. It isn’t right but it is necessary.
Until their own bodies break under the strain.
Until Satoru— Satoru— must live out his days remembering what a sunset looks like. A sunrise, in full, vivid color. He tastes bile on his tongue.
“Don’t look at me like that, Suguruuu.” Satoru drawls his name with a sugary smile. “I can see blind better than most do with two working eyes.”
That isn’t the whole truth, he knows, but Suguru says nothing. He’s quiet as Satoru looks back at the painted sky and hums softly, mostly to himself.
“It does make you look at things differently, though. Makes you appreciate the little things. I want to soak it all up, you know? See as much as I can.”
Suguru isn’t looking at the sky. He’s looking at Satoru— at all the colors reflected in him. How he shines back with his own brilliant light.
This evening’s view will fade. The memory, too, will tatter and fade with the passage of time, but not without Suguru clinging to it with every breath. Not without him painting back over the edges every once in a while, filling it back in as close as he can remember, just to keep it alive for a little longer.
Maybe it’s a bit like that for Satoru, too. Suguru watches as the light slides over his cheek, skin dusted pink. The angled light brings out the sharpness of his jawline. The soft fall of his hair waves in the breeze, and all the while his eyes are fixed onto the horizon— as if memorizing it, one jewel-tinged brushstroke at a time.
I will never be enough, Suguru thinks. But it will have to be.
And they’re here now, aren’t they? For just a moment in time, practically a blink. They’re young and alive and the sky is on fire and none of this was ever guaranteed. Suguru looks back at the horizon, at the spot where distant mountains have now swallowed the sun like the curtain at the end of a ballet.
It’s a miracle that it happened at all. Any of it, all of it. For right now, the air is thick with potential— and Suguru will not squander it.
“What is it that you want to see?”
Satoru looks back at Suguru then. “Hm?”
He licks his lips. The words feel weightier, repeating them. “What do you want to see?”
Satoru stares back. That look is enough to stop the breath in his throat— how Satoru’s eyes soften, head cocked to peer over his shoulder. The slight curve of his lips like he’s trying not to smile. The way his eyes track over Suguru’s face leaves searing lines of heat. Suguru almost wants to hide from that gaze, how naked it is, how knowing… but he’ll do no such thing.
He lets Satoru look his fill.
“Oh, I’ve got a few ideas.” Finally, Satoru smirks, even wags his eyebrows a little. It gives Suguru such whiplash that his ears start ringing from the force of it. He realizes his mistake now, if too late.
“You know, you could be serious,” Suguru huffs, “for a whole minute, even?”
“Impossible!”
Suguru tsks under his breath. “Why do I bother? I’ll never know.”
“Now, now, Sugu, don’t do me like that.” Satoru slings an arm around the breadth of his shoulders, dragging him in close to his chest. Closer than he’d like. The light is soft. His lips look soft. Suguru tenses at the impulsive thought, but Satoru doesn’t push it. He shakes Suguru in reproof. “You worry too much.”
Suguru thinks he worries just the right amount, thank you very much.
“I’ll make it up to you. Come to the planetarium with me.”
Suguru frowns. “Explain to me how that is you making it up to me?”
“I’m letting you keep me company.”
“So gracious.”
“What can I say?” Satoru shrugs, though his inhale shudders and he fails to fully hide it. Suguru feels it in his chest. “I’ve got all I need right here.”