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It’s a chilly October night. The breeze from Shoko’s open window makes her shiver. She’s been so detached these past few months that the coldness brings a sort of change to the nonchalance; makes her feel something other than the emotions she’s trying to bury deep inside her.
Suguru’s leaving still so fresh she’s doing her best not to think about it every waking moment.
Satoru’s worse, she thinks. He’s putting up a façade of indifference, but she’s known him for three years now and can see through it so clearly. He’s in the same as boat as her – trying to live a life where a large chunk is missing. Like a severed limb.
They haven’t seen each other in a while, actually. Satoru dispatched on missions so frequently it’s honestly a surprise he can be at the school for a whole day. With Suguru leaving, Satoru’s missions have tripled.
Shoko is not different, holed up at the infirmary and morgue all the time now, studying for the medical school entrance exam and trying to stay on top of the homework Yaga’s forced to give them, it’s a miracle she has a moment for herself.
Opening the window so she can smoke in the room without the smoke alarm going off, she sits on the ledge of the window and inhales the smoke, savoring the burning feeling in her throat and lungs. The wind that’s been getting colder as the seasons change makes bumps rise on her skin, so she smokes faster.
The sudden knock on her door leaves her surprised – no one usually knocks on her bedroom door at two in the morning, unless it’s Yaga to inform her that there’s a patient waiting for her in the infirmary, or sometimes Kento asking her to share a blunt together on the nights that Haibara’s death hits him harder.
It’s surprising that it’s Satoru standing on the threshold, more surprising that he’s waiting for a cue to come in after he’s opened the door. A year ago, he would have barged right in without asking, making himself at home on her bed or desk or the floor, taking up space in her room like it’s his right. A lot has changed since then. A lot between the two of them. These days it feels more like first year, when they were strangers who were still getting to know each other’s boundaries.
“Come in,” Shoko says and finally Satoru moves from his spot on the threshold. Shoko puts out her cigarette on an ashtray she has laying around and closes the window. Satoru looks out of place in her room, like a marble statue thrust in her small cramped room filled with clothes thrown around the floor and food wrappers and anatomy textbooks open on her desk. He takes small steps to the bed and sits on the edge. Shoko joins him, sitting a few spots away from him.
“Can’t sleep?” she asks him.
“No,” Satoru responds, “I just came back from a mission.”
“I see. Do you want to sleep here?”
Sleeping in the same bed is not weird for the three of them; how many times have they stayed up way too long playing on Suguru’s DS, or making their way into each other’s bedrooms after long missions, or simply being too tired to bother going to their own rooms after a day of training.
But, now that it’s just the two of them, it’s a little awkward. There’s a weird silence after Shoko’s question.
“Okay,” Satoru says after a while, in a softer tone than usual, “if you don’t mind.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I minded, you know,” Shoko quips.
Satoru snorts out a laugh, “Just making sure, okay?”
Shoko makes her way to her side of the wall next to the window. Satoru stands and slowly lays down, picking up the blankets and carefully throwing them over the two of them. Shoko’s always cold, being in the morgue leaves her with a chill she can never get rid of, and Satoru knows this, so he makes sure that the blanket covers her whole.
He finally lies down after tucking her in.
He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Shoko throws a leg on top on his and burrows her cold nose in his neck.
They stay like that for a while, just enjoying each other’s presence after not having it for a time.
Soon sleep catches up to them, Shoko falling asleep first, with Satoru falling closely. But not before he leaves a small peck on her forehead when he’s positive she’s asleep.
It’s the first time in a while they sleep without Suguru haunting them in their dreams.
***
Following the end of their schooling, as well as Shoko’s departure to medical school and Satoru’s full schedule as a special grade sorcerers, Shoko’s and Satoru’s relationship is almost nonexistent. They see each other every now and then for a quick coffee or sometimes Yaga invites them out for dinner because he misses them, even though he would never say it out right, using excuses such as checking up on their progress in medical school in Shoko’s case and work in Satoru’s.
The last time they talked was over two months ago, so it’s very unusual when Shoko receives a text from Satoru at one in the morning on a random Tuesday.
‘what are you doing rn,’ it reads.
Shoko stares at her phone from her spot on the bed, the bright screen illuminating her face.
‘trying to sleep,’ she texts him back, ‘why, did smth happen,’ she adds.
‘what, i cant text my fav doc without smth happening,’ he responds immediately.
‘not at 1am when the doc is trying to get her beauty sleep’
‘oh shit. didnt see the time. sorry’
‘its fine,’ ‘whats up,’ Shoko sits up, rubbing her eyes from the soreness of looking at the overly bright screen.
‘its suguru’, that definitely wakes her up from whatever sleepiness she had still left from before Satoru texted her.
‘can i come over,’ Satoru texts again before Shoko can even process the information he just texted her.
‘yeah sure,’ she responds and gets up to unlock the front door of her apartment.
When she moved to downtown Tokyo for university, Yaga rented out a one-bedroom apartment close to the college for her. She’s very grateful that she can get some privacy, not having to interact with her classmates, lowering the risk of one of them figuring out her cheating schemes.
It’s a small condo with a small living room, kitchen, a tiny bathroom that Satoru definitely would not fit in, and one bedroom, enough for her everyday tasks. It’s not like she stays in the apartment long enough for her to need more, only coming home for dinner and to sleep.
Shoko feels Satoru’s energy, even before she hears the familiar sound from his teleportation, the cursed energy rising in front of her apartment door. She opens the door before he can ring her doorbell, not wanting to bother with the million questions the old woman living across from her will surely ask her tomorrow about the disturbance in the middle of the night.
“Oh,” Satoru exclaims, “Hi.”
“Hey. Come in,” Shoko moves aside to let him in, “Let’s go to my bedroom. It’s warmer in there.”
They walk together to the bedroom, Satoru trailing after Shoko carefully. When they reach her bedroom, Shoko sits on her bed, turning on the bedside lamp she has on the small nightstand.
She pats the space next to her on the bed.
“Sit,” she says in a more inviting tone than demanding.
Satoru sits a little unsure, leaving a distance between them. He takes off his glasses, exchanging them for his hands. He rubs his eyes in a way that Shoko knows a headache is forming.
“Have you been sleeping lately?” she asks him.
“Well, it’s not like I need sleep,” his answer is muffled by his freakishly big hands, “Reverse is doing its job.”
“Don’t do that,” Shoko scolds him, “replacing sleep with Reverse. You’re just frying your brain more.”
“As long I’m standing, it’s fine.”
“Still,” Shoko says, moving closer to him, raising her hand to try to soothe his oncoming headache. Her hand floats a centimeter above his forehead.
“Let me in, Satoru,” she says, forgetting that nowadays his Infinity is always up, hell, the idiot probably has it up even when he sleeps.
“Sorry,” he mutters.
“You’ve been doing a hell lot of apologizing tonight,” Shoko tells him, “What’s going on?”
“I saw Suguru like four hours ago.” Satoru admits, leaning in Shoko’s hand that’s on his forehead. He exhales deeply, the cold feeling of Shoko’s Reverse always more refreshing than his own.
“Where?” Shoko asks him, her hand brushing away his bangs from his forehead. She makes a mental note to remind him to cut his hair.
“In a store near my place. He was with the girls, so it’s not like I could even do anything.”
Shoko removes her hand and drops it next to Satoru’s thigh.
“Oh. I see.”
“Yeah.” Satoru says mindlessly. Both of them know what he’s thinking, words not needed to explain the hundreds of thoughts going through Satoru’s head right now. Both of them understanding what the other is thinking without having to say it out loud.
“Do you want to stay here tonight?” Shoko offers, “My bed is probably not as comfortable as the one you have in your big ass apartment, but it’s all I have to offer.”
“I’ll take it. I’m sure it’s not as bad as the dorm ones were.”
They both stand up from the bed, Satoru placing his glasses on the nightstand and Shoko turning off the lamp. The few streetlights that are outside her apartment are illuminating the room.
Shoko moves the three blankets she has pilled on top of one another, never warm enough. She slithers slowly in the bed, trying to leave enough space for Satoru. He lays down carefully, making sure not to accidently elbow Shoko. After he lays down, Shoko throws the blankets on top of them.
“Here,” Satoru tucks them in, making sure Shoko’s back is well covered up. He wraps an arm around her waist and in turn Shoko puts her feet between his knees.
“Ouch,” Satoru yelps, “Why are your feet so cold?”
“It’s winter and I’m cold.”
“Not good. Not good,” Satoru tuts.
Shoko rolls her eyes, “Stop whining like a baby.”
They quiet after that, the only sounds in the room being their breathing. They stay intertwined together, just lying in each other’s presence. They stay like that for a while, until Satoru finally falls asleep. Shoko watches his breathing; listens to the slight sounds he makes when breathing out. It’s a little endearing, she thinks, but immediately erases the thought, not wanting to think about Satoru like that.
Soon she falls asleep as well, Satoru’s hug finally warming her up.
When they wake up in the morning, they’ll talk about Suguru. There’s going to be tears and snot involved, but they’re going to become closer in the process.
For now, they sleep soundly.
***
The warm air from the vent warms up Shoko's feet that are sticking out from underneath the blanket she has wrapped herself in after freezing her ass off coming home from the convenience store down the street. The warmth from the blanket and the dull sound from the random show she has on the tv are doing nothing to stop sleep from reaching her. Her eyes are slowly closing and she has to blink more often than usual to stop herself from falling asleep on the living room couch.
It was close to midnight and she was up waiting for Satoru to come home from a meeting he left for in the morning. One year after Shinjuku, they have fixed most of the damages Sukuna caused and they are continuously working on building a new world in which the new generations would be happier, not having to deal with everything they went through both as teenagers and as adults. Being the founders of a new society meant they had to work overtime, fixing and building stuff, dealing with the administrative side of things, having countless meetings and just overall making a brighter future.
It also meant coming home late, but it was nothing new. It was like a second nature to them at this point. Shoko didn’t mind having to stay up later, either working until the morning hours, or like right now, waiting on Satoru to return home.
It took Satoru dying and coming back to life for the second time for both of them to realize the feelings they had for each other. It was a very emotional moment when they confessed, finally admitting the feelings they harbored for the other for years, never realizing that their feelings were mutual. After finally making the next step in their relationship, they moved in together in Satoru’s apartment.
In the end, sleep wins and Shoko dozes off. She doesn’t hear Satoru coming home, opening the front door carefully as to not let out a sound, taking off his jacket and boots, using Infinity to drop them on the ground soundlessly. She doesn’t feel him standing above her, breathing out a chuckle at the sight of her curled up in a fetus position on the couch, a Christmas blanket that he bought years ago as a gift for Tsumiki pulled tightly around her, her legs sticking out from underneath the blanket, her mouth slightly open and trailing drops of spit on her chin.
Satoru moves to pick her up from the couch and to bring her to their bedroom when Shoko wakes up. The slight movement from Satoru putting one of his hands below her shoulders and the other one below her knees, stirs her up.
“Sorry,” Satoru whispers, “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”
He moves to lift her up when Shoko protest.
“No,” she says in a whiny voice that she only ever dares to use in front of Satoru, “I don’t want to get up, I’m so cozy like this.”
Satoru laughs at her whiny protest, “You want to stay here?”
“Mhm,” Shoko whispers, too tired to continue speaking.
“Alright,” Satoru agrees and lifts her up, lying down instead on the couch and positioning Shoko on top of him. He does this quickly and as carefully as possible as to not wake up Shoko even more.
Shoko lets out a breath and snuggles closer on Satoru’s chest.
“Is this ok?” he asks her.
“Yeah,” Shoko says in a whisper.
Satoru hugs her closer, his hands on her waist. He spread his legs out, making space for Shoko to lay down comfortably.
Shoko raises her head a little, just enough for their lips to meet. The kiss is slow and soft, their lips brushing together like feathers.
“Love you,” Satoru says after their lips part.
“Love you too,” Shoko replies and sleep finally catches up to her.