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When the warmer mornings of spring start breaking the frost and ice, Suguru takes to read in the sun. He’s not a religious person by any means but he finds there’s something so indescribably sacred about turning pages, a piece of the earth baring knowledge that thousands can read and love and learn. Like having an unknown affiliation with people throughout time, to all be affected by the same object of literature. Suguru would really love to be reading in the sun, but his historically obnoxious fuckwit friend is snapping his book shut and tossing it in a vague direction behind him. He deserves a demotion to ‘unfriendly acquaintance’ for this.
“What the hell was that for, you’re ego running low on attention?” He scowls, plucking the borrowed book from the warmed stone.
“You know me so well, Sugu-boo!” Satoru hollers.
“I’ll throw you down the stairs if you’re not careful.”
“Vouch!” Shoko calls, trailing smoke behind her as she walks. Finally, a voice of reason.
“And what do I owe this displeasure.” He sinks back onto his designated step.
“I had one of those brilliant ideas-”
“Terrible ideas.” Shoko corrects him.
“You said you liked it!” He accuses, shoving her down next to Suguru.
“Doesn’t mean it’s not stupid.” She shuffles against Suguru’s side, claiming the book to herself.
“What are you getting me into.” He groans at his ‘friends.’
“Well, I'm so glad you asked!” Satoru claps his hands together with far too much glee to be a good sign, “There’s a festival in Tokyo today, and I can’t drive.”
“You’re not flying to Tokyo on Rainbow Dragon.” He deadpans, and Shoko whistles beside him.
“That’s a way better idea actually, why didn’t you think of that.” She throws Suguru’s precious book at Satoru.
“You can drive us to Tokyo.” He ignores her and states it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“I’m seventeen.”
“Yeah but aren’t you from like.. farmland or something? It’s basically a motorbike.” He tilts his head.
“Not quite.” He sighs, raising an eyebrow at Shoko. She shrugs, how helpful. “I don’t even have a car.”
“Yes, but-“ Shoko straightens up, “The school has heaps of them.” She throws a set of familiar keys into his lap.
“You’re insane.”
“Thank you.” She sound almost sincere.
“I’m not stealing a car.” He chucks the keys back to Satoru, they bounce off artificial gravity and spin through the air.
“Think of it as secret borrowing.” He spins the keyring around his finger.
Shoko elbows him in the side, “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”
“This is literally peer pressure.” Suguru hip-checks her as he stands, snatching the keys from Satoru, “I am not doing this because you asked.” He flicks an accusing finger between them and mumbles, “It just does sound kinda fun.” He rolls his eyes as they high-five, making way for his room. God, what the hell has he agreed to?
Suguru doesn’t know how to drive a car, but he knows damn well it’s not a motorbike. He scowls at the cold metal door, leading to the tech school's garage. Shoko shakes the handle a few times and makes grabby hands at Satoru.
“Gimme your card.”
“How’d you learn to jimmy a lock?” He throws it to her anyway.
“I didn’t.” She shoves it into her pocket. “Suguru, kick down the door.” He laughs in the face of Satoru’s obvious betrayal.
With the door flying open on its hinges, they starts manically pressing the button in search of a car with flashing lights to boot. Before Suguru knows it he’s shoved into the driver's seat of a black Camry.
“Fuck me, I have no idea how to do this.” He fumbles with the keys, turning them until the engine starts popping. Nothing. Satoru leans over his shoulder, having lost the wrestling match for the front seat. Suguru would probably feel better if the menace was beside him instead of Shoko, seeing how he is far more resistant to the side effects of being launched into oncoming traffic. I mean.. if he’s going to sacrifice someone, it might as well be the bulletproof one, right?
“Is it dead?” Fingertips brush Suguru’s elbow as the taller turns the key for himself. It pops a few times before he lets go.
“No, it’s a manual, morons.” Shoko flicks her lighter open, rolling down the window.
“We’ll if you’re the genius, why don’t you drive?” He would very much like to not be in this seat right now, and he trusts Shoko a hell of a lot more than Satoru.
“Nice try, too busy doing hot girl shit.” She takes a drag, Suguru sighs.
He has driven a motorbike before. But a motorbike is no car, and there aren’t any road rules in a field. He assumes it has the same theory and guesses the clutch. The engine roars into life this time. Okay. Okay, he’s got this. The car rocks as it stalls.
“Fuck sake.” He curses, as Satoru laughs over his shoulder, Shoko giggling into her cigarette isn’t helping either. He tries again, and with a few rough jerks, they move slowly to the exit.
“What happens if you push all of them at once?” Satoru’s still leaning over his seat. He shrugs, knocking the back of his head into bony knuckles in a futile attempt to get him to sit down.
“Maybe it’ll do a flip.”
“My life is in the hands of an idiot.” Shoko shakes her head as they make it onto the rural highway. Satoru’s hand flies to grip her seat.
“Hey! Nah uh, two idiots.”
“Oh, well that makes me feel so much better.”
“You’re so very welcome, m’lady.” He grins at her eye roll.
Sixty miles per hour feels so much faster in the drivers seat. By some miracle, and actively avoiding crossing traffic, Suguru doesn’t completely lose his mind and they make it to the edge of Tokyo City. He parks them on a residential street, Shoko yanks the hand brake as they start rolling forwards.
“The next train station is only ten minutes away.” Suguru shoves the door open, tossing the keys to Shoko.
She uses Satoru’s card to pay for the train, dodging his futile attempts at snatching it back. They bicker over the intricacies of what defines theft as Suguru drags them onto a Minato-bound train.
The ride is smooth, but Suguru knows better than to expect this to be long-lasting peace. He’s proven right the moment they get out of the station in Minato. Satoru groans about the vending machine ripping him off, his prized wafers getting stuck behind the spring. It doesn’t take him long to kick the glass in and Shoko drags him in exactly the opposite direction of the security guards.
“Jesus, Satoru. It’s like you’re trying to get us caught.” She lets his collar go, in favour of pulling out a pack of cheap cigarettes.
“What do you think happen if Yaga gets a call from the cops?” Suguru agrees.
“We’ll have a mad funny story to tell Nanamin.” He flashes one of his signature smiles.
“You’re impossible.” He sighs, joining Shoko against one of the pillars beneath the station bridge.
“Hey!” Satoru’s incoming temper tantrum flies in on queue, “You idiot’s can’t just stop and smoke wherever you want!”
“Says who, The Chosen One?” He bats away the hand trying to snag the cigarette Shoko hands him.
“Says the sign you’re leaning on.”
“What sign?” He rips it clean off the wall. In Suguru’s defence, he was not actually expecting the sign to just peal off. He throws it at him anyway, Shoko cackles beside him.
As the street starts filling up with people, they follow the crowd closer to the port, Satoru saltily stalks ahead of them, not that he’ll be hard to find again, between the hair and the height.
When they do catch up he’s standing by a cotton candy stall like a lost puppy.
“Took your sweet time.”
“Sorry, was busy waiting for you to stop being a pissbaby.” Shoko’s words drip with mirth. Satoru shoves a hand out in front of her, waving his fingers in a ‘gimme’ gesture. Shoko’s smirk only grows as she pointedly shuffles around his card in her jacket and throws a few coins at him.
“You’re scamming me out of my own money.” He scoffs.
She hums, “I think this is more like flat-out stealing.”
“Y’know you can order a new card when you lose one, right?” Suguru drapes himself over her shoulders.
“It’s not even lost!”
“Looks pretty lost to me.” He rests his chin on her head, matching her smirk. Satoru throws a pout at him, really pulling out all the stops for this one, huh?
“Stop corrupting him, Shoko. Suguru is perfectly capable of making his own decisions.”
“I wanna steal.” His grin reaches his eyes, and Satoru is not having it.
“You were against it, like- an hour ago!”
“That,” Suguru flicks him finger guns, “Was before I committed grand theft auto.”
“Fine, but I’m not buying you food.” He whips around, favouring the treat instead of his menace friends.
“You make it sound like you even have a choice,” Shoko’s artificial innocence matches the packaged pastries she reveals to him. “Really generous of you.” Suguru finds it far funnier than he should that Satoru’s having a hard time being on the other end of their bullshit for once. He eyes them, and then the pastries.
“If you didn’t get me one I will personally Hollow Purple your ass into the aether.” Suguru snorts and throws him his before sliding off his friend in search for a bar that probably won’t recognise him. Shoko hip-checks Satoru when they start following, though it doesn’t entirely work with their height differences. Satoru gives up his pissy front, a hand in her hair.
“So, like-“ Satoru saunters, ripping open the plastic with his teeth, “If someone offered you.. twenty million yen, would you stab me.”
“Yes.”
“Absolutely.”
“Huah?!” He shoves Shoko down as she giggles at him.
“What? You’re like.. indestructible.” Suguru flaps a hand over his shoulder with a side-eye.
“Hey, how about,” Shoko smacks the hand holding her away, “you stab me as well we’ll have forty million, then we get a big ass apartment for the three of us.”
“Only if I stab you first.” She squawks when he tickles the back of her neck, “and what about Suguru? What's he doing to gain tenancy in our house!”
“I’m not immune to knife-ly physics, unlike you freaks I don’t have some ass-pull technique like regrowing my fucking limbs or something.” He laughs over his shoulder, “I get to freeload on the grounds of being the sexiest one here.”
“Vouch!” Shoko shouts with a wave, “I speak from the high court of all living and dead bisexuals, vouch!” She takes a few fast steps to catch him by the arm. Suguru stops the three of them on the side of the walkway.
“Fancy some crime?” She nods to the small bar that looks like it’s being fairly lax with their carding.
“You need to ask?” In tandem, they start a round of janken. With scissors and rock, Suguru smugly pushing her towards the bar when she eats defeat.
He tries to casually lean on the river's wall, attempting to not look like a stalker. He catches her eye after he hears a distant yell ‘Leave the bottle, babes.’ Her pinky flicking as she tucks her hair, a familiar silent call for a distraction.
“Satoru, go be obnoxious.”
“Why? To who?” He’s shoved after Shoko before he gets an answer. Thankfully Satoru actually puts his ridiculously incredible, stupid brain to some use. He doesn’t even need Six Eyes to see how completely shit his faux flirting is, he’s pretty sure Shoko’s expression is entirely genuine, hell his would be. She makes a gag face at him, and probably hurls some insult far too personal, taking her queue to snatch her unpaid bottle and split.
“Haha, fuck yeah! I didn’t think that would work.” She shoves the bottle into Suguru’s jacket as they make haste down the busy walkway. He sends one of his more complex curse’s to get Satoru, whom is spit out of the ground in front of them, shivers rack his shoulders.
“Never mother-fucking send your bullshit ground-swallowing fuckery after me again, dude.” Discomfort even crawled under Suguru’s own skin at the mere memory of the sensation himself.
“Bet.” He doesn’t even stop Satoru from snatching the bottle and taking a swig, through he keels slightly and hands it off immediately.
“That shit wasn’t even worth a detour through metaphorical hell.”
“Woah, that’s a big word for you ‘Toru.” She teases, “me-ta-pho-ric-al. Lotta’ syllables in that shit.”
“Laugh in my face again, and I’ll hand you to the cops on a silver platter.”
“No shot, you’re my accomplice dumbass.” She pokes him in the shoulder with every word.
“No one’s gonna put The Gojo Satoru in a cell!” He drags his name like the self-righteous prick he is. Suguru lets himself laugh alongside Shoko.
“New goal for the night?” He leans forward to eye her.
“Fuck yeah, baby.” The challenge is bright behind her eye-bags.
Just for shits and giggles (and spite), Suguru considers using the curse again to get them onto a roof, but his skin crawls at even the thought of falling through what is essentially its entrails. Instead, they climb like a bunch of normies. While walking overtop the crowd they reach the beach in only twenty minutes, it’s fairly empty considering the time. Which actually means they can walk about four or five meters before tripping on someone. There’s supposed to be some kind of small festival concert by the coast in an hour or so, and Suguru is quickly figuring out his friend's plan to get a front-row seat is using their scary dog privileges (Getou Suguru privileges) to push past people.
They find a semi-secluded spot to sit before the streets really start to kick off, Satoru falls flat like a starfish on the ground.
“Dude you’re gonna get sand, like, fucking everywhere. ” Suguru lightly kicks his side.
“Have you literally never been to a beach before.” Shoko flips her lighter open. He flips them a signature grin as he tosses white hair around, flicking sand everywhere and remaining unfairly snowy.
“I’m immune to nature bitches!” He hooks a hand behind Suguru’s knee.
“Oh fuck off.” He hits the ground anyway. “I hate your ass so much.” Suguru shoves him away by the face, essentially covering himself more with the hellish grit.
“You are a terrible liar, Sugu-boo.” He of course has to sit up and mockingly strike a pose, “like anyone could ever hate all this.”
“I hate your face as much as I hate your ass.”
He deadpans. Shoko snorts and Satoru pouts. He’s tackled by his ‘beloved’ fuckwit friend. Suguru sighs deeply as he accepts his hair to be sacrificed to the sand, silently vowing he will absolutely kill the shit out of this asshole someday, his conviction shall be ‘The becoming revenge against the atrocity of a gritty scalp.’
“So mean!” He kicks Satoru off him entirely and pulls Shoko’s laces undone.
“Jeez, you pretend to be all sophisticated and shit Suguru, but you're just as bad.” She kicks his knuckles and sits anyway. “We really should have brought a blanket.”
“And some wine glasses.” Suguru picks up their prized bottle, inspecting the label.
“It literally tastes like rotten seafood.” Satoru wrinkles his nose and Shoko flicks him.
“You ungrateful fuck, I just nabbed us the finest bottle they had.”
“Is it expensive?” He leans over Suguru’s shoulder.
“Woulda’ been a whole two thousand yen.” She crosses her arms in pride.
“Wow,” he drags out, “no need to go above and beyond for us.” He drawls with sarcasm and a smirk to boot. She shoves him, and Suguru shoves him right back at her. “That’s barely my grocery fund.”
“What hell are you eating to spend only two thousand on groceries every week.” She gives the bottle a swish before sipping and handing it along.
“I dunno, ramen, soda, a shit ton of wafers.”
“Dear god, the strongest sorcerer is like a twelve year old who thinks he’s better off without parents.”
“Nah uh, Suguru makes me food sometimes”
The Suguru in question pauses mid-sip when she fixes him with a look.
“Enabler. As for you,” her glare moves left, “calling a sugar addiction groceries is mad cursed.”
“I think it's high time we accept the closest Satoru’s gonna get to a vegetable is a red bean pudding.” He leans back on his hands, handing the bottle back.
“Well, with all due respect Suguru.” Satoru starts as he knocks one of his arms out from under him, “which is none-” Suguru slams back into the sand.
“Imagine how many crises could have been avoided if your parents bothered to use a condom.” He deadpans, shoving Satoru into the sand beside him, cutting him off. Shoko spits wine through the air, choking more than laughing.
“ Goddamn Suguru.” She thumps a fist into her chest. Satoru is seemingly stunned to silence as they laugh above him, eventually joining in.
“You're not wrong,” He manages between laughs. “But, I'm rich and pretty so it doesn’t really matter.”
“Do you have no dignity?” Shoko wheezes.
“What kinda dumbass question is that?” Suguru takes the bottle in his lips again, “of course he doesn’t.” They fall back into fits of laughter, soaking in the evening air until the distant music finally starts. They toss their empty bottle and plastic wrappers from earlier into one of the big skips the city posts around when big events or festivals happen, usually so the drunk masses don’t make a mess of the streets.
“Start looking scary Suguru, the masses aren’t going to part without fear.” They both start shoving him ahead.
“Crowds literally suck, can’t we watch from back here.” He feebly argues back.
“Suguru. Babes. Have we ever put you in an unsafe situation?” Shoko starts.
“Yes, several times today alone.”
“Then you should be used to it by now.” Satoru pushes the (slightly) shorter forwards. He sighs, at times like these it really doesn’t pay to to be strapping.
Everyone playing is from at least one of the Tokyo art districts. The first band is a local pop band that a few people in the front seem to recognise well. The second, or maybe third, is an indie rock band. Suguru likes their sound, it’s slightly heavier with their double kick bass drum, a little out of the ordinary with indie music. He likes it. Shoko does too apparently, letting her hair flying around her as she dances with some other girl she just met. Somewhere in the growing chaos, she’d flung her jacket to him, Satoru took it when he decided that he hated concerts upon consideration. Suguru can see him sitting on the edge of the shelter above the stage drawing on his arm with her lipstick. Suguru laughs and points for Shoko when he draws a middle finger on the sole of his shoe. She shouts that he should send the ‘bullshit ground-swallowing’ curse after him again. They both know if he does Satoru will make sure neither of them get a drop of hot water for weeks.
In the end, Shoko texts herself from Sugurus phone, and they meet Satoru at the edge of the promenade. Running off adrenaline and fervour, Shoko drags them to get another drink. They run through the living streets, picking from stands of food and jewellery and small instruments.
Satoru hands him a set of deep purple gauges, the craftsmanship of them is gorgeous. Little spirals and crevices carve themselves into claws and whiskers. A rainbow dragon, of course. One a head, the other a tail. He turns them over in his fingers, admiring the way the light reflects on them. Satoru beams when he pops his current plain black pugs out in exchange for them. Thankfully they fit only a little tighter than his usual ones, he’d much rather they weren’t loose and risk losing one. He takes Satoru’s hand in his right, and Shoko grabs his left dragging them both along. She ends up getting an impulsive septum piercing on her journey for alcohol.
“How long have you wanted one?” Suguru asks as she activates her reversed curse technique.
“Since I met that hot girl at the beach.” She wiggles it around a little, testing how it healed. Nothing like a well-thought-out body modification. “Oh, check that out.” She points towards a window bar and declares that she’ll be right back. But she’s too hasty this time, the energy of the night too bright, which probably fuels her incredibly stupid decision to just snatch the vodka when it’s obvious the counter girl isn’t going to give it to her.
“Fuck sake.” Suguru hisses, but he’s laughing and running with her. He never let go of Satoru’s hand, so now the three are weaving through the busy streets. Suguru didn’t realise how long they’d been walking earlier until he rounded the corner and saw the Meguro River. They run along the fenced riverside, getting harder and harder to avoid people as the crowd gets steadily thicker. He spots two unassuming cops ahead to match the two chasing them and has a terrible idea. A truly moronic witless idea.
“Shoko! Jump the river!” He points at the police ahead when she looks at him like he's lost his mind. He lets go of Satoru’s hand and makes the jump look far easier than he has any right to, though he doesn’t at all stick the landing. He holds a hand over the water, encouraging her forwards.
“Usually I’m the one who comes up with the bad ideas!” She jumps onto the guard rail and swears to herself. Satoru stand behind her and uses a small implication of Red to push her forward, accommodating for her shorter height. “Fucking hell!” She only just clasps Sugurus's hand. He sucks his teeth as her knees click painfully against the concrete side. He pulls her over the guard as they turn to Satoru.
Shoko notices his mistake first.
“Infinity! Satoru, turn it off!” Suguru doesn’t even understand at first.
“Huh?” The moments distraction stumps him, but Suguru can see him realise the moment he kicks off. He hurls his hand out again when he sees Satoru falling short, but their hands never met. Repelled by his own personal gravity, Satoru misses. “Oh fuck m-“ He dully slams into the water.
They clasp the wooden rail, watching Satoru re-emerge Infinity-free and completely soaking. Shoko’s laughter is so violent she’s using Suguru to keep herself upright. Though he’s having trouble holding himself together. He takes a chance at looking Satoru in the eye, keeling over entirely from his pissy expression.
The police even let them watch him be fished out of the river after they cuffed them.
The cell isn’t really all that cold, even so, Satoru is shivering under the change of clothes and blanket they gave him. Shoko and Suguru sandwich him on either side, though Shoko ends up laying her head in Satoru’s lap after he pushed her off (she outed him as the little spoon.)
“So.” She rolls her head back to catch Suguru’s eye as well. “Should we call Yaga?” A knowing smirk on her face. God, they’re never going to see the light of day again. He thinks of all the extra training that Satoru and himself will have to do and winces.
“I’d rather stay in jail.” He runs a hand through dripping white hair, flicking the water down at her. She just giggles and flips him off.
All things considered, they really do have a mad funny story to tell now.