Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Undisclosed Location, 2 kilometers from nearest village, July 2000

“You can see them, too, can’t you?” He knew he sounded far too eager for what was considered appropriate to the situation. It was improper and impolite to speak without first introducing himself.

His elders reminded him constantly that he would be clan head one day, and that this title came with a slew of expectations, like maintaining a sense of propriety and speaking with tact, both of which were skills Satoru lacked. Even so, he had no interest in holding himself to standards of blatantly false decorum.

He did not make any effort to conceal his excitement, as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, a wide grin painted across his face as he impatiently awaited the other boy’s response. He scanned the black haired boy’s features as he did, which only added to his mounting delight.

Satoru was momentarily taken aback by the purple color of the boy’s eyes. He’d never met anyone else whose eyes weren’t brown or a muted blue. He wondered what other colors existed beyond the Gojo compound. Did people have yellow eyes? Green? Was purple rare like Satoru's blue? Or was it common? He suspected that this boy was special too.

He so very rarely met children his own age, and even when he did, it often led to disappointment. He had never met another kid sorcerer with cursed energy comparable to Satoru’s own. But his six eyes told him this kid had innate power; one that was quite peculiar and rare at that.

“See them…?” The boy trailed off, his eyebrows scrunching as he considered Satoru’s words, then a look of comprehension crossed his face. Satoru watched as his purple eyes widened. The boy leaned toward Satoru, sounding hopeful, as he asked, “You can see that?” The boy nodded toward the largest tree on the outskirts of the playground.

“Yes, it’s on the left side of the big tree. It’s got 12 eyes and one tooth, if you could even call that a tooth,” Satoru pointed to the spot where a rotund curse was murmuring to itself and rocking back and forth. It had not registered their presence yet. By Satoru’s estimation, it had to be a grade 4, possibly even weaker. Way too easy for him.

A small yet genuine smile crossed the other boy’s face. Satoru thought it suited him much better than the concern he had observed earlier. The boy took another step toward Satoru, his smile widening as he spoke, “Yeah, it keeps saying eat daikon.”

Satoru grinned back, “Well, it’s a good thing we don’t have to listen to curses, cause daikon is gross. So, do you wanna exorcize it together?”

“Exorcize?”

“It means get rid of it.”

“I know that. But… I’ve never exorcized one before. I… do you know other people like us?”

“Yeah, most of my family are jujutsu sorcerers, though they’re all pretty weak. None of them are as strong as me.”

“What’s a jujutsu sorcerer?”

“That’s what you are, too. You’ve got a cool technique and loads of cursed energy! Your technique is centered in your stomach.”

“I don’t understand,” The boy’s eyebrows furrowed.

“How do you not know any of this stuff? I’ve known this since I was 5,” Satoru crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly feeling annoyed. He didn’t like to have to repeat himself or teach. Being naturally gifted made it hard to explain things to others.

“I know things!” The black haired boy exclaimed, though he still looked more confused than truly upset. Satoru could see that his cursed energy had spiked in response to Satoru’s words. He felt a slight twinge of guilt, though not enough to stop himself from continuing.

“You’re like a Digimon trainer or Pokémon master except you store them in your tummy,” Satoru poked the other boy’s stomach to emphasize his point, accidentally poking harder than he meant to, “You do know what Digimon or Pokemon are?” Satoru asked condescendingly. He watched as unbridled anger flashed across the other boy’s face, darkening his purple eyes.

He was starting to wonder if this kid was even more sheltered than he was. He had not thought it possible. Maybe his six eyes had gotten it all wrong; a feeling of disappointment started to creep up his spine. Perhaps, it was his fate to remain alone at the top after all.

The black haired boy tried to push Satoru in response, though immediately fell back onto his butt as Satoru’s limitless subconsciously expanded to protect him.

“What…? What happened just now? Do you have some kind of force field?”

“Kind of- it’s more like I control space.”

“Space? Like outer space?” The black haired boy looked worried, as he stood back up, then looking slightly frightened asked, “Are you… one of them? You look so human, but how you talk and what you say is… weird. No human I know talks like you.”

Satoru laughed loudly, “I’m not a curse, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Whatever! You keep saying confusing things. My parents and the people at school… no one else in my village is like me,” The black haired boy said softly.

“Oh!” Satoru gasped, “So… no one you know is a sorcerer or even a window? A healer? What about a clan member?”

“What’s a window?”

“That’s not important right now,” Satoru waved his hand dismissively, “What is important is your technique. My ability lets me read people’s cursed energy, and yours is strongest in your stomach,” Satoru pointed, then asked, “Have you ever tried eating curses?”

“What? No! That’s disgusting. Are you crazy? I’m not eating that thing.”

“You’re supposed to.”

“Do you eat them?!” The boy looked appalled and disgusted, as he took a step away from Satoru.

“No, cause that’s not my power!” Satoru huffed, and placed his hands on his hips. He did not understand how this kid did not get it. It was simple.

“Mine sounds like a gross power,” The boy sounded irritated.

“Maybe, but you’ve got more cursed energy than most adults I’ve met. You’re gonna be powerful, maybe even as strong as me if you work hard at it,” Satoru taunted, sticking his tongue out.

“You’re pretty full of yourself,” The black haired boy looked unimpressed, crossing his arms over his chest. Hi eyes scanned over Satoru, and he forced himself to stay still under the other boys watchful gaze.

Satoru was delighted. No one had ever spoken like this to him before. He wondered if this is how all kids were with each other. He liked that this kid was not afraid to speak back to him. For once, he wasn't a Gojo or the six eyes. To this boy, Satoru was just another kid.

“Satoru! Satoru!” Satoru was immediately disappointed. His handler, Botan, was approaching the playground from the left-hand side. Satoru estimated that he had less than 2 minutes before he would be found.

“Damn… they found me,” Satoru sighed, he turned toward the black haired boy, “You should go to Jujutsu High in Tokyo. I’m gonna go there when I’m 15. We can train and fight together.”

“I don’t know if my parents would ever agree to that. They don’t understand my abilities. And I don’t know about fighting with you- you seem kind of crazy,” The black haired boy looked skeptical.

“Whatever- if you’re fine with staying weak then suit yourself,” Satoru shrugged, thrilled as he watched irritation return to the other boy’s face.

“I’m not weak!” He crossed his arms, “It’s rude to say such things to people you’ve only just met.”

“Prove it. Exorcize that curse and eat it!”

“Fine! But if I die cause it poisons me, it’s your fault. And you have to tell my family.”

“It’s not gonna poison you. I’m sure of it,” Satoru smirked.

Satoru watched as the black haired boy approached the curse without fear. He kicked it hard and then punched it. Satoru was impressed. The boy reached down and picked it up. He held it in his palms and then stared at it, a look of determination on his face as he did. Satoru was entranced as the other boy’s face filled with wonder as the curse warped into a purplish black ball in his hands.The boy held it in front of his mouth, before swallowing it whole. He looked disgusted as he did, and then bent over, holding his stomach as he coughed.

Satoru watched as cursed energy flowed through the other boy; satisfied when he witnessed the boy’s energy completely absorb the curse.

“You did it!” Satoru jumped excitedly as he ran toward the other boy, pulling him into a hug.

The other boy stared at him, this time without confusion or derision, though Satoru could not place the emotion.

“Thank you,” The black haired boy said as a genuine smile took over his face. Satoru had never seen someone look as lovely. He immediately banished that thought. Boys weren’t supposed to think that about other boys like that. He rationalized that he was just excited to meet someone like himself.

“Oh… you’re welcome,” Satoru’s face felt hot. He touched it and wondered what was happening to him.

“You’re all red! You’re blushing,” The boy pointed at him, then mimicking Satoru’s condescension from earlier, asked, “Did I embarrass you? Not so tough anymore,” The black haired boy was smirking now.

“No!” Satoru protested, “I’m not!”

“Liar.”

“You’re the one who's lying!”

“No I’m not,” The other boy’s smirk widened as he walked toward Satoru. Satoru immediately regretted helping this boy. He was clearly a menace.

“SATORU!”

Satoru watched as his handler rushed toward him, “We were so worried. You know you’re not allowed to go anywhere without one of us with you at all times,” Botan admonished, as he looked over Satoru, looking pleased when he noticed that Satoru was not physically harmed.

Satoru rolled his eyes, “I’m stronger than all of you combined, so if something did happen, I’d be the one saving you all and myself anyway.”

“That may be true young master, but your safety and survival is of the utmost importance, which is why we have these rules in place,” Botan said, sounding equal parts fond and exacerbated. Satoru was used to eliciting that combination often.

“Fine, whatever. Let’s go then,” Satoru started to walk away with Botan back toward their lodging, before pausing and turning back around. He saw that the black haired boy was standing and staring at Satoru. His arms now at his side; the confidence from earlier was gone, and he looked oddly vulnerable.

Satoru felt a strange compulsion to run back and comfort the boy, but forced himself to ignore it, instead, he cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled, “Don't forget- Jujutsu High in 5 years, ok!?”

Satoru smiled when the black haired boy’s eyes met his. He looked determined, as he nodded back at Satoru.

As the distance between them widened, Satoru could feel his heart racing as excitement coursed through him. He could not wait to see him again.

Chapter Text

Jujutsu High- August 2005

Yaga had informed Satoru that their newest student’s name was Suguru Geto. At first, the name meant nothing to him. He barely acknowledged Yaga’s presence in his dorm. Instead, he waved him off dismissively, and continued to tap away at his DS, focusing on playing the newest Digimon game. He had his priorities, and learning who Suguru Geto was, didn’t even make the list.

Two days ago, Satoru waited all night to get the game upon its release. He had been the first person in a line of more than 200 hundred people. He’d never felt more victorious than he had in that moment. It was probably the top achievement of his life.

“Satoru, did you hear me?” Yaga’s voice sounded irritated. Satoru looked up. Yaga’s eyebrows were scrunched up and his mouth downturned.

It was an expression Satoru was used to eliciting from others, and thus, he smiled at the man in return, completely unfazed, “I honestly don’t care about this kid, Yaga.”

“You know, Satoru, he’s a special grade, like you.”

Now that piqued Satoru’s interest, he saved his game and set his DS down, “A special grade? Seriously? What can he do?” He had never met another special grade sorcerer before.

He had hoped, upon coming to Jujutsu High, that he would find even one sorcerer who would be his equal or who could, at a minimum, pose a challenge for him. He had been severely disappointed when he learned that not only was the only other special grade sorcerer currently off continent, but that it was unclear if and when she would return.

“He’s got an ability that we’ve never seen before. We don’t know all that he’s capable of, and neither does he, so he’s grateful to be here and excited to learn. You’d do well to follow his example,” Yaga said pointedly.

“Why? I’ve known about jujutsu and the secrets of the Gojo clan technique forever. I don’t wanna sit in class. I’m here to fight curses and master my skills so that I can be even stronger than I am now,” Satoru grinned at Yaga, adjusting his glasses as they started to slip down his nose.

“In order to continue to train, you’ll be expected to go to class, Satoru,” Yaga admonished, and when Satoru shrugged, he added, “I’m serious, Satoru.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’ll be there,” Satoru rolled his eyes. Thankfully, Yaga could not see behind the sunglasses and failed to notice. He was sure Yaga would have smacked his head if he had. “I guess, I have to see why this Geto kid is ranked as a special grade.”

“Great, you’ll be able to find out soon, because you’re meeting him in 20 minutes. He’s on his way right now,” Yaga smirked.

“What?!”

“You really think I’d give you a choice in the matter, Satoru?” Yaga looked unimpressed, “Be ready in the main courtyard in 15 minutes. Don't be late.”

Satoru huffed, and picked his DS back up, “Hmph, fine, but I’m playing this until he gets here, so don’t interrupt me again,” Satoru said petulantly.

As he left Satoru’s room, Yaga did not bother deigning him with a response.

The moment Satoru saw Suguru walking across the school grounds, he recognized him.

An overwhelming sensation of butterflies fluttering instantly filled his stomach, as he recalled that brief yet defining moment of his life. He had never forgotten about the boy, and now, here he was, keeping his promise to Satoru, even though he likely he did not remember making it. Satoru doubted that Suguru, who had grown up with many other kids, would recognize him at all. But to Satoru, well, the memory of meeting Suguru had kept him moving forward toward his goal.

“Suguru, welcome, I trust you found your way here, ok?” Yaga’s voice interrupted Satoru’s reverie, and he forced himself to remain calm. He had to be cool and casual. He did not want to scare Suguru off immediately, as he was wont to do with others. Satoru had never wanted someone to like him as badly as he wanted Suguru to.

“I did, thanks to your directions, Yaga-sensei,” Suguru bowed at Yaga, who seemed pleased at the praise, which would normally cause Satoru to roll his eyes, but Satoru was too busy being completely fucked, because Suguru’s voice was soft and assertive. If he was being honest with himself, it was lovely.

Yaga’s phone rang before he could respond, he smiled apologetically, waved, and walked a few feet away to take the call.

“And you must be the infamous Gojo heir, it’s nice to meet you,” Suguru seemed to intentionally raise his voice, so that Yaga could hear. He then stepped closer to Satoru, and smirked, before quietly adding, “I don’t care that you’re from one of the three clans or that you have some rare technique that hasn’t been seen in hundreds of years. I’ll always know you as the boy who blushed just because I thanked him.”

Scratch that, Suguru’s voice was a facade, hiding a vicious demon, beneath sweet words and a gentle smile.

“I don’t remember it that way,” Satoru fibbed, fighting the strong urge to stomp his foot as he did, then added more truthfully, “I remember you telling me I was a curse! Which was pretty rude, by the way.”

“Well, I’d never met or seen anyone quite like you. I just knew you were either some kind of angel or a curse, so I went with my first instinct,” Suguru smirked. He was an arrogant bastard, but he was better at hiding it than Satoru was. It was intoxicating to interact with someone on his own level. He hoped this conversation would never end.

Satoru could feel his face heating, and sputtered, “What does that mean?!”

Suguru leaned even closer. He was so close that Satoru could see the varying shades of purple in his eyes. His heart was beating so loud he was sure Suguru could hear it too.

Suguru grinned, and damn, it was somehow both feral and attractive, “Oh, it appears you’re blushing again. Do you always blush so easily or is that reserved just for me, Satoru?”

Satoru had never loved hearing someone say his name more. Suguru’s voice was careful with each syllable, almost as though he was caressing Satoru’s name with his voice.

“I don’t! I don’t blush just for you!” Satoru vehemently denied, though his face was even redder. Suguru had noticed, if his widening smirk was anything to go by. This bastard was doing it on purpose.

“Seems you do.”

“Well, you’re the one saying I’m angelic!” Satoru attempted to argue. Somehow, he’d lost a battle he had not even realized he’d been fighting.

“That’s because you clearly are,” Suguru shrugged, unbothered.

Satoru snapped his jaw shut. He had never had anyone disarm him quite as easily as Suguru had. They'd spoken for less than five minutes, and already that elation from before had returned tenfold. He was immensely annoyed yet beyond thrilledthat this was still true after 5 years apart.

He had found his equal.

Chapter Text

Jujutsu High - September 2005

After a month of in-depth training, they were finally being sent out on their first mission together. Satoru was brimming with excitement. He could hardly keep his feet on the ground as he rushed toward the torii gate.

He paused just out of sight from the gate. Suguru was already there waiting for him. Damn, he thought he was early. He’d wanted to impress Suguru by beating him there. He should have known that Suguru would arrive earlier than early. The other boy was far too punctual for a teenager. Satoru was going to have to loosen him up a bit. He acted like a real stick in the mud sometimes.

Satoru took another minute to scan the other boy. Something about his cursed energy soothed Satoru. He could never admit that out loud, lest he wish to be mercilessly teased. The other boy had somehow mastered the art of reading Satoru in the span of a few weeks, whereas Satoru was woefully inept at reading Suguru. The other boy embodied an air of faux respectability and his arrogance rivaled Satoru’s own, but unlike Satoru, he knew how to channel his confidence into more socially acceptable behavior.

But surprisingly, Suguru, for all his bitchiness, could actually be quite kind.

Two weeks after they reunited, he brought candy to share after they finished training. In passing, Satoru had told Suguru he loved milk candy, specifically strawberry flavor. Satoru was touched to find them in the mix of sweets. No one had ever done that for him before. The Gojo family had staff who waited on them and attended to their needs, but he’d never had someone pay attention to the small details. It meant everything to be considered.

When it happened again, a week after, Satoru couldn’t help but be suspicious. That time, Suguru had brought him his favorite soda. Satoru hadn’t said a thing about his preference.

Suguru had noticed.

Satoru didn’t know what to do with Suguru’s attention. But he knew he wanted it.

“So, how long are you gonna stand behind that bush and stare at me? We don’t have time to be messing around, Satoru. You’re late,” Suguru’s voice disrupted his preoccupied thoughts.

“Huh?! I’m not late! You’re just freakishly early. I’m right on time.” Satoru puffed out his chest, and sauntered over as confidently as possible.

Suguru looked unimpressed, “Doesn’t explain why you were wasting time watching me like some sort of creep.”

Satoru gawked, then quickly regained his composure, firing back, “I was just testing you- gotta make sure your skills are sharp enough for our mission today. Wouldn’t want you dying on the first one, rookie. That would be pretty embarrassing.”

Suguru wrinkled his nose, “It’s unbecoming to speak so lightly of death, Satoru. Jujutsu sorcerers risk their lives every day in the name of protecting the weak. When a sorcerer is killed in action, it isn't an embarrassment, it means that they gave their life so that others may continue to live on.”

Satoru, feeling properly chastized, sighed, “Ugh, I know, ok? It was just a joke, Suguru. You really need to lighten up.”

“You ought to reconsider what you deem a joke or not.”

“What’re you? The morality police?”

Suguru ignored his remark and promptly turned around and walked through the gate. Satoru hated how he looked so cool and nonchalant doing so.

“Hey! Isn’t it rude to leave mid-conversation!?”

Suguru doesn’t turn back, and instead seems to increase his pace. What a bastard.

When Satoru finally catches up, Suguru’s grinning, “You know, you’re too easily riled up, Satoru.”

“Am not,” He knows he’s pouting but he can’t help himself. Suguru’s a bully.

Suguru just laughs.

Satoru tries to stop himself from smiling, but his lips keep twitching, until he’s grinning back at Suguru, whose genuine laughter is infectious.

“So, where’re we going again?”

“Seriously, Satoru?”

Satoru shrugged, “I knew you’d remember the necessary details. Call it an act of faith.”

Suguru glared at him, “Don’t mask your laziness as an act of trust.”

Satoru raised his hands up, “Fine! I didn’t read the whole report. Are you happy now?”

Suguru stops midstep, and faces him. His purple eyes are piercing, “Why would that make me happy? It’s dangerous to go into a mission so unprepared.”

“You seriously need to chill, Suguru. It’s a grade 3 curse. It’ll be easy. I don’t even know why they’re bothering sending us both on this mission. We’re overqualified.”

Suguru’s eyes narrowed, “I thought you didn’t read the whole report.”

“I didn’t! I skimmed over it. And it was so boring.”

“Going on missions isn’t just about fighting, Satoru. We’re going to remove this curse so that elementary students won’t have their learning disrupted. Have you even stopped to consider that this mission might not be testing our jujutsu skills but is instead meant to assess our ability to work together as a team?”

Satoru bit his lip. He hadn’t thought of that possibility, but now that Suguru’s mentioned it, it seems highly plausible. Somehow the stakes suddenly feel much higher. This has to go well. He wants to keep spending time with Suguru. It seems ridiculous, since he hasn’t even completed a single mission with the other boy, but Satoru knows down to his bones that he doesn’t want to work with anyone else. He won’t do it.

“Well, if that’s the case, then we better show ‘em how it’s done, right, Suguru?” Satoru can’t stop himself from grinning. He’s sure he looks slightly deranged, but he can’t find it in himself to care, not when Suguru’s grin is mirroring his own.

“Right.”

It’s been less than a minute since they stepped into the abandoned classroom, and Satoru knows they’re dealing with a sad, miserable excuse for a curse. The air is thick with melancholy.

The teacher who greeted them and walked them through the building claimed that the classroom was haunted, and that every teacher had refused to be placed in the room. They’d had two staff quit on the spot when they were assigned to work in it and one who had locked herself in the bathroom and cried after she stepped foot into the classroom. She was still off on medical leave for ongoing mental distress.

Satoru locates the curse immediately and grins. It’s pathetically weak. He lunges forward and punches the beanbag it’s residing in.

It wails, “Pennnnncil” as it scrambles across the room.

“Suguru, look at this ugly little thing, it’s so pathetic,” He laughs as he starts to chase after it. Suguru looks at Satoru, unimpressed.

The curse screeches and zig zags around the room, searching for its next hiding place. It appears to lock in on a location and moves more frantically.

Just before the curse can reach the classroom’s cubbies, Suguru makes his move.

Satoru watches, stunned, as Suguru pulls off the most graceful spin he’s ever witnessed in his life, before promptly roundhouse kicking the curse. It flies through the air and smashes into the ground, its body crumples as a loud crunching sound reverberates throughout the room.

Shit, that was hot.

Wait, what?

That was weird. He’s never found another boy hot before.

Suguru’s no Waka Inoue that’s for sure.

Yeah, no, he doesn’t think Suguru’s hot.

He’s physically strong and immensely talented in channeling his cursed energy; Satoru’s just impressed with his classmate. Anyone with eyes would be.

Satoru shakes his head and rushes to check on the curse. He’s about to dole out the finishing blow when Suguru strides up beside him and puts out his hand, “Wait, Satoru. I want this one.”

Satoru nods and steps back, watching as the curse morphs into a dark purple orb. Suguru quickly swallows it whole, and grimaces. Satoru wonders what it tastes like; he can’t imagine it’s very pleasant.

Suguru stares unseeingly at the ground, his voice is soft when he confesses, “It doesn’t get any easier. It’s still just as disgusting as that first time.”

“Wanna get milkshakes and fries?”

Suguru glances over at him and looks genuinely confused, “What?”

“There’s an American cafe nearby! I’ve always wanted to try it! It’s gonna be hard to choose a milkshake flavor… maybe I’ll get two, or three. I could probably drink three and still have room for fries.”

“How do you even know there is one?”

“I looked it up on the way here.”

Suguru shakes his head, “I can’t believe you, Satoru.”

“Do you wanna keep the taste of shitty curse fresh in your mouth or not, Suguru? Let’s go already! You can get whatever you want! I’ll put it on the Gojo clan tab.” Satoru was sure the elders wouldn’t approve, but who cares? They’d complain, but they had never once stopped his cash flow. Spending money on things they would hate made it all the more pleasurable after all.

It’s Suguru’s turn to look surprised. Satoru wants to laugh in his face, but he forces himself to remain neutral. He’s so damn proud of himself for catching Suguru off guard. He can’t ruin this for himself by being an asshole. There will be plenty of time for that later.

“You…”

“Yes?”

Suguru opens his mouth and closes it. His attention shifts to the room around them. Satoru steps back into view and stares at Suguru, but Suguru keeps his eyes downcast. What the actual fuck? Why won’t he meet his gaze?

And that’s when Satoru notices it.

It’s faint, but it’s there.

Suguru’s cheeks appear to have a very faint pink hue.

Holy shit.

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m not.”

“You so totally are!”

Faint pink darkens as Suguru huffs, “Whatever.”

“It’s not so fun when the tables are turned, is it, Suguru?”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re an asshole?”

“Yes,” Satoru forces himself to sound as chipper as possible. It’s never hurt to be called an asshole before, but this time it stings. He can’t let Suguru know. Weakness isn’t attractive, and whether he likes it or not, he does want Suguru to think he’s attractive and strong.

Suguru sighs, “So how do we get there?”

Satoru perks up, “You wanna go?”

“The taste doesn’t always go away after I eat. It’s more like a sense memory that I can’t shake. It can take hours or even days for it to subside. Sometimes eating helps, or at least, it doesn’t make it worse.”

Satoru considers his words. Suguru hasn’t really been vulnerable with him, not since the day they met. Even though Satoru isn’t the most tactful, he does recognize that now is not the time to be insensitive, so he settles for simple, “That sucks.”

Suguru chokes out a loud laugh. He shakes his head, “Yeah, it really fucking does.”

It’s getting a bit too genuine for Satoru’s comfort. So he does what he does best, “Woah, the Suguru Geto, Mr. Polite and Proper, curses?! What will our teachers say? The higher ups?”

Suguru hoists himself up and playfully shoves Satoru’s shoulder, “Fuck off.”

Suguru heads toward the exit, and Satoru cackles as he follows Suguru.

Satoru’s too wrapped up in their banter and the promise of fries to register that he’d allowed Suguru’s touch through infinity for the first time.

That evening, when he’s back in his dorm, lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, he drops his phone as the significance of the moment clicks into place.

Satoru wonders what it means when your body acts on its own accord. He’s so used to having complete control of himself at all times.

Suguru’s messing with his head.

But he can’t bring himself to care too much.

Because he can’t wait for Suguru to touch him again.

Maybe he’ll place a hand on his shoulder in a show of support? Or fondly ruffle Satoru’s hair? Give him a half armed hug in a moment of pride?

Satoru falls asleep smiling.