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Months. It’d been months since Shibuya. Since Satoru had been home, since he’d almost lost so much, since he did lose enough, since he almost lost himself.
They’d won but not come out unscathed. Everyone bore the marks of the battle. Him most of all. And now, he couldn’t stand it. Them, himself, the mirrors, any of it.
Outside everyone saw him as he’d always been. Bright smile, careless attitude and confident. Inside, however, he was hollow. Broken man with a broken body, and no matter how desperately you wanted to make him feel loved, he always pulled away.
Even now, in the silent darkness of the room. He lied curled up on his side of the bed. When you’d reached out, as you did every night since he’d been back, he would always pull away.
“Not tonight.” He whispered with rehearsed ease.
You stayed on the edge of your side. It was heartbreaking to see your husband fall into the abyss and you had no idea how to help him out of it.
It had been months since he’d even let you hold his hand.
The man used to wear boxers to bed before. Now, he would only wear full sleeves pyjama sets.
The mirrors in the house had all been either overturned or removed entirely. The only ones that remained were in the bathroom and even those he avoided with never turning on the light. Whether to go to the toilet or to shower. It would stay dark.
You leaned back against the bedhead, wondering how to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. Someone who only showed his reality to you. The rest were healing for themselves, and just simply assumed that he was fine. Doing better than everyone else. Even when he wasn’t.
Your arms help your knees to your chest, watching the slow rise and fall of his back.
Satoru wasn’t asleep. He knew you were watching him so he stayed still. Pretending to be asleep. Soon enough, he heard you sigh a little and sink down into bed. He knew you were facing him, your hands itching to give him comfort but how could he take it?
He felt like he was a shell of the man that had married you. He didn’t feel deserving of everything you were wanting to give him. A part of him was just waiting for you to say that you’re done, that you don’t love him anymore, that you’re leaving.
Every night, as you’d subconsciously gravitate towards him in your sleep, trying to grab him closer, he felt like it was a cruel prank. That as soon as he’d give in, you’d wake up and laugh at him. Ask him how could you want him when he was like this anymore. When he wasn’t him anymore-
“Satoru?” You whispered, making him shiver. He didn’t respond, hoping that same as every night, you’d wait and then sleep again.
He wondered how long he could do this. Keep you at arm’s length until he was healed. But a part of him knew that this was it. He was stuck like this. Shoko had explained that his injuries would heal, and he’d be good as new but the scars? The scars weren’t going anywhere.
He knew he shouldn’t be this ungrateful. Yuuji still loved Megumi and Megumi loved Yuuji. Regardless of the scars. Nobara was now blind in one eye- He got off easy, didn’t he? Didn’t he?
The days were moving like molasses in winter. Weeks of bare minimum communication. Silent dinners and not looking at you. He went to school, attended clan meetings, did his part. God, that was his thing, wasn’t it? Just doing his part. With no concern of what would happen to him, with turning a blind eye to what was happening to them .
When the days started to get colder, he once again started to realize how fragile he’d become. He was still the strongest but god, the pain- this was something he hadn’t felt since he was a child.
The wind settled deep into his bones. Every joint, every scar, everything ached so much and he sat in the dark bathroom, soaking in the warm water that was rapidly cooling down.
Shoko had called to tell you that she’d seen Satoru walk a little stiffly. Given the level of his injuries, she explained to you that he’d need help because his skin was sensitive to the weather now.
So, here you were. About to knock on the bathroom door, praying he let you in.
“Satoru?” You knocked lightly. “You okay? You’ve been in there for a while-”
“I’m fine.” He didn’t mean to say it so harshly but that’s how it came out. He waited to hear the words he dreaded. That you were done and over his moodiness but it didn’t come.
“Toru- Please-” You leaned against the door, trying to swallow back your own emotions that were threatening to spill over. “I- Shoko told me you nee-”
“Nothing.” He didn’t know how to stop being mean. “I d-”
“ Please- ” You said again, “You need help. I know the scars are hurting. Please- Please let me help-”
“I’m fine.” He whispered, trying to convince himself mostly. “Really- I don’t-” The words lodged in his throat when he saw the doorknob twisting.
Years together, locking things had become a thing of the past. A habit he’d completely let go of at home. The light from the bedroom slowly flooded the bathroom and he sat there in shame, his head hung low, his bright eyes casting a halo across his face.
You held the large towel up for him. A sheet of sweat across your skin that confused him when he met your eyes, still trying to somehow shrink away. To hide himself, his ugly body that he hadn’t allowed you to see, to touch, to be near since- since-
“Come on-” You said softly, the towel opened as in invite.
“Why are you sweating?” He stared at you.
“Shoko said that cold is bad for you. I warmed the house.” You told him like it was as simple as reciting the alphabet.
But he could see how bad it’s affecting you. He could see the laboured breaths, the sweat dripping across your brow. You always hated the warm. Always told him that you’d live in the snow if you could because you can always layer up but never layer down. And here you were, in a tank top and shorts, sweating because he needed warmth.
“You d-” He began but you cut him off with a glare.
“No. Enough.” You frowned, shaking the towel at him again. “Out of the water. Now. ”
That voice. God, he’d only heard that tone when he was in trouble. And he hadn’t heard it in years.
He nodded, grabbing the towel to cover himself as much as possible and leaned over to put on his glasses.
“Now what?” His words bit out aggressively and you tried not to flinch.
He’s not angry at me- He’s upset with himself - You reminded yourself again, trying to keep calm because if you broke, you knew he’d break too and that wouldn’t be good for anyone.
“Wear something comfortable. I got oils to massa-” You began and he quickly shook his head, taking a step back, you grabbed his wrist before he almost tumbled back into the tub.
The silence was heavy. Your hand wrapped at his wrist, him shocked that you were touching him and not disgusted.
“You’re-” He stared at his hand and where you were still holding him. “H-How-” His voice was barely even a whisper.
“What?” Your brows knitted together with confusion, letting go of him once you were sure he was steady on his feet again.
“You touched me-” He was still staring his wrist.
“I- Oh- Sorry- I didn’t want you to fall-” You took a step back, worried you’d crossed a very obvious boundary. He’d kept you away for months now and you’d just touched him with no regard of his own personal space and-
“You didn’t- You’re not- not disgusted?” He looked up, his glasses neatly perched at his nose.
The question confused you further. Disgusted? How could you possibly-
“I’m- I’m barely-” The words choked out in his throat and tears were starting to well up.
“How about I get you your PJs, hm? The purple ones you like?” You smiled at him.
Satoru nodded numbly, following you out of the dark bathroom. He walked behind you, watching your soaked-through tank. God, you are really uncomfortable. Why aren’t you saying anything? He stayed quite as you handed him his clothes. You gave him another smile and walked out of the closet to give him privacy.
He pulled on his clothes and the warmth of the house was already starting to make his skin feel better. It didn’t feel as stretched out or painful. It felt almost okay.
When he walked out, tugging down the sleeves to cover himself more, he saw you sitting on the bed, lips parted as you took heavy breaths.
“Y- You can lower the temperature…” He said slowly, sitting on the opposite side to lie down.
“No. No! I’m okay.” You smiled, god, that smile - but he saw the obvious lie. You had your thermos of ice water next to you and you sipped it to keep yourself from overheating.
“Please- I’m-” He began again but you just shook your head.
“Shoko said you need a certain temperature.” You put your thermos on the nightstand again. “I’m fine- Really- I’ll take a cold shower in a while and then I’ll be good as new.”
I don’t deserve you- Please- Please do better for yourself. Leave this hell and make a better life again.
“Anyway-” You continued on. You realized that the only thing Satoru reacted well to was you pretending everything was fine and that every day behind an invisible wall wasn’t killing you. “I was thinking we can order-”
“Starshine?” He whispered, his back towards you, looking up from his glasses. You froze, you hadn’t heard that name in ages .
“Yeah?” You swallowed. “Do you nee-”
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, curling into himself, “I’m so sorry-”
“W-What for-” You wanted so badly to reach out to him and hold him but he’d been so distant and-
“Everything.” He sighed, sniffing softly, making you keenly aware that he was probably crying or close to it. You said his name softly, urging him to turn around but he shook his head again. His whole body shuddered as he tried to not show how close he was to falling apart after keeping it together for months.
You moved the sheets away and lied down behind him. Not touching but close enough that he felt the dip of the bed behind himself.
“Please-” You hand hovered over his shoulder, desperate to comfort him. “Let me be here.”
There were a few beats of silence and suddenly, he was in your arms. The dam finally broke. The sobs were loud and the tears streamed down, mixed with your sweat. His arms wrapped around you so tightly that it was close to pain but you didn’t care. You were holding your husband. He was here. He was allowing this. You held him to your chest as he cried, words that were too incoherent to understand, rubbing his back, letting him be this . Letting him let it all out.
All you could catch were broken sorries and promises of how he’d be better. God , you wanted him to just shut up and let you help. You did what you could do, what he was letting you do. You held him as tightly as possible, and kiss his hair and temple repeatedly, saying the same thing over and over
I love you. You’re okay. We’ll be okay. I love you. I love you .
Satoru choked out more sobs, unable to understand why you still loved him. He was barely what you’d married. He was hardly the man you’d fallen for. He was- undeserving and yet you were holding him, loving him, overheating yourself for him. He cried until he had no more tears left, until his voice was hoarse and until he forgot how long it had been.
It didn’t matter. You were here. You were holding him and not repulsed by him. Not cringing away, not disgusted by him.
He stayed in your arms until the crying subsided and his body stopped shaking. He looked up at you, his eyes seeming more blue, his white lashes all clumped together.
“Hey, you-” Your knuckles caressed his cheek. It felt so good to be near him again. A comfort you both needed.
“I’m sorry.” He croaked and you shook your head. “But-”
“No-” You cradled his face, “Stop- Just-”
“I pushed- I pushed so far- Why are you still-” Tears started to well up again.
“Because I promised you forever and a day more.” You smiled softly, he tried to protest again but you shook your head, “No buts. I picked you, I will keep picking you.”
“But I’m-” He looked down at himself. He didn’t know how to say it. That he was what he had become now and you deserved more than someone broken.
“Satoru… You’ve done enough-” You said gently, sliding down the bed to be face level with him. “For the elders, for the society, for everyone. You’ve done enough . Pause. Just… breathe. Focus on yourself-”
“But I have to- I’m head of my clan and the students-” His voice quivered.
“They’ll survive. The clan isn’t going anywhere. Please -” You begged, “ Please just give yourself a moment. Process what happened. Take time off. No one will hold it against you if you just-”
“I can’t…” He whispered. “I can’t- If I leave- The higher-ups- They’d- The students- I can’t-”
You knew full well that if Satoru stepped back even a little, the elders, the higher-ups, they’d all push to start playing pawns with whatever students and sorcerers that were left after Shibuya.
The silence hung heavy between you both. He was holding tightly at your tanktop, worried that you might simply cease to exist if he let go now.
After a while, he spoke. “Do you-”
“Yes.” You said, without even needing to hear the question. “Always-”
“But I- I’m not who you chose to be with.” He said softly. “Broken.”
You forced his face up again, making him meet your eyes and glared at him. He visibly swallowed at the anger in your eyes.
“Don’t you dare-” You were trying hard to control your own emotions, “I’m here because you’re my Satoru. Not because you’re the head of your clan, the strongest ever- No. I’m here because you’re the foolish boy I fell for. With all his quirks, insecurities and idiocies of jumping first and asking second. I love you . Not your power, not your clan- You . Always you. Just you.”
“You make it sound so simple.” He melted in your arms again, his face pressed against your chest. “ Just me? Don’t think anyone’s asked for just me. ”
“Then let me be the first.” You kissed his hair, running your fingers through it, undoing the knots from the bath.
“The only.” He whispered again, holding you, his dearest wife, as close as possible and for the first time in months- finding a morsel of peace to lul him to sleep.