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Geto Suguru, the walking dead man, was allowed to be partially reintegrated into jujutsu society.
Not that he strived to, as he was not going to give up on his idea of an ideal world.
The world where his beloved could be safe from harm and be free to live his precious life as he pleased, without the need to be the strongest, without being in danger all the time at the slightest slip-up of his Infinity.
But it was to stay by his lover's intoxicating side that he decided to dissolve his group and take off the monk robes to permanently guard over the perimeter of Jujutsu High.
And it was exactly his beloved Gojo Satoru who sponsored him in front of the higher-ups.
Such sponsoring came in the form of threat that only the Honoured One could use as leverage.
Satoru loved Suguru deeply, but he was still working on changing his mind about non-sorcerers.
Though he was also too afraid of losing Suguru again, to press him too much with moral arguments.
As long as he left Maki alone, he dissolved his cult and let civilians live, he was content.
But the day came when Satoru had to ask his lover the moral question.
"What are you going to do if you and I have a child, and it turns out to be a... non-sorcerer?"
Suguru had gone quiet for a moment, and sweated under his clothes.
Then, he'd giggled.
"There is no way a child of ours won't inherit some kind of technique, even if it isn't the best one ever. It's such a remote possibility that I won't bother worrying about it."
Turns out, there actually was a way.
But Satoru didn't know how to communicate it.
Too afraid to lose his lover again, too scared of going back to square one, and even fearing for the sketch of a child that he was already carrying in his belly.
"Suguru...", the white-haired man muttered in that signature low voice of his, "Would you still love it if it was not born a jujutsu sorcerer?"
Suguru's arms fell to his sides, as he was unable to even cross them.
"Are you..."
"No. Just, please, answer."
Satoru replied honestly: he had no idea he was carrying a miniscule bean created from the love he had for Suguru, deep and stinging just like a cut that never properly healed.
The raven-haired stayed silent for a moment, then pulled out one of his gentle smiles.
"I'm willing to bet my right hand it won't ever even happen, but if it really must... there are ways we can turn it into one. Like what happened to Yuji-kun, right?"
Satoru's breath itched.
He didn't even know why he felt the urge to ask that question, but now that the matter had come to his lover's attention, he wanted a proper answer.
He understood Suguru and his reasoning, he really did.
But the mere thought of having to feed a child a cursed object just to infuse it with cursed energy made his stomach churn.
He felt bad, not as much as when Suguru walked away from him on that busy shopping street, but close.
"But you would love it before making it a jujutsu sorcerer, right ?"
He made sure to underline the most important words of that sentence, as hard as he could, without sounding harsh beyond repair.
Suguru paused again, then he finally got serious.
"I could never hate something born from the both of us, Satoru."
He was not lying, but the mere idea of fathering a 'monkey' upset him greatly.
Satoru realised he'd been sweating rivers when the conversation died down with that statement.
He took in a short breath.
Well, at least that wasn't an outright rejection or refusal.
He could fix his beloved again, he was sure .
¤¤¤
Satoru's long, pale and slender fingers shook slightly as he picked up the chopsticks: the Strongest did like challenges, but this childbirth thing had strained even him a little too much.
But he was determined to pick up that fresh sashimi and get started with the feast he'd been promised by Shoko, as she tried to keep him calm through contractions before the anesthesia kicked in.
Satoru had needed it: his beloved could not be there for the birth of their child, because as much as both of them wanted Suguru to be able to witness the birth of their firstborn, with the Strongest dealing with the pain of labour, someone else, the second Strongest sorcerer, had to take over the duty of keeping civilians safe for a few hours.
Suguru had realised that he'd become a father the instant he was about to unleash a cursed spirit at a grade-two curse, only to see it retreat the moment it felt Gojo Satoru's energy flowing to every angle of Tokyo again.
Free from the strain of childbearing, Satoru must've instantly taken charge again.
Suguru had smiled, small tears forming at the sides of his eyes, and he began to walk to Shoko's clinic.
In there, Satoru was almost done clearing up a sushi feast meant for a family: he had fussed quite a bit over that one craving that he couldn't satisfy throughout the nine months, in order to keep the baby safe.
That was what Shoko saw entering the room: she was still mildly shocked by the fact that she'd helped her friend of many years give birth, she'd needed a cigarette break.
But now that she was done, it was time for: "A few check-ups. No, not for you! Close your legs. I meant for the baby."
She barked that last part, a bit annoyed as she wore a new pair of gloves.
She got closer to the crib by Satoru's side, the man's hand immediately going to rest on its side, his long pinkie brushing the baby's tiny fist.
Shoko took a moment to admire the little human born from her childhood best friends, and sighed silently.
She tried to be professional, but a little smile escaped her control.
"Let's see...", she mumbled, and brought her stethoscope to the baby's chest.
The newborn whimpered, letting out a wail in discomfort for how cold the metal was.
Shoko was pretty used to that happening, but she nevertheless felt worse than any other time.
She sighed silently, again, and took a step back, suggesting that they took a break so she could warm up the stethoscope and Satoru could comfort the baby.
She watched as the white-haired man pushed the sushi to the side, and moved his large hands to the crib on his right side, picking up the bundle to hold to his chest.
"Shh, Akihiko...", Satoru whispered, gently brushing the baby's black hair, deciding against kissing his son's head so he wouldn't start smelling like sushi.
The newborn stopped crying the moment he was laying on Satoru's chest, comforted by the familiar scent.
The man kept cuddling the baby, marvelling at how small he felt in his hands: he hadn't fully realised that his baby was finally there, after so much waiting, so much worrying, and so much pain.
He admired every little finger, every toe, the baby's rosy lips and chubby cheeks, his black hair and the structure of his small face.
"He looks so much like Suguru", Shoko commented, crossing her arms as her little smile never faltered.
"Yeah", Satoru replied, his voice breaking with emotion, and with the implications of that fact.
He was about to witness his lover's heart melt for their child, he was sure of it.
Or that's what he told himself, so he could keep calm.
He kept patting Akihiko's back while Shoko prepared a syringe: he himself was not a fan of what was about to happen, but he steeled himself to keep his son still while Shoko did what she had to do.
Inevitably, a wail pierced through the walls of the room, and the entire clinic.
And the wave of sound hit Suguru's ears as he hurried down the corridor to meet his beloved, to make sure everything was actually okay.
With both Satoru, and their baby.
Speaking of the latter, a particular matter had to be settled.
Suguru hurried, the sound that proved his child's life and wellbeing sounding almost like music.
But as he got five, four, three steps away from the door, he froze.
The cry kept resonating, the baby being in clear distress and pain.
But Suguru could not detect an ounce of cursed energy coming from behind that door, as much as he strived to feel even a little bit.
It's such a remote possibility that I won't bother worrying about it.
Suguru could hear his own voice in his ears over his hammering heartbeat, Satoru and Shoko's voices, and the baby's cries too being easily overpowered.
His dark eyes unfocused, as he could not move one more muscle.
He hadn't felt this scared in a good ten years, ever since he'd first come across a monkey with no cursed energy at all, on the occasion that had altered the course of his life and Satoru's forever.
If this was a dream, he wanted to wake up instantly.
He was drenched in sweat by the time he clocked in again, looking up to see Shoko's face.
"Finally, you're here...", she mumbled, her smile falling as she studied her friend's expression.
Suguru seemed... troubled, too invested and distant at the same time.
But she reckoned it was nothing Satoru couldn't fix: those two completed each other in every way, they were each other's drug, in the good and the bad sense of the term.
"Come on in", she whisperer, and Suguru's autopilot pushed his feet one in front of the other until he crossed the white door of the hospital room.
It was bright, no matter the cold December day outside, and it smelled like antiseptic, as any hospital does.
There, in the corner of the room, Satoru glowed, nestled in shiny white bedding.
"Suguru!", he called, and the raven-haired man could've sworn he'd just heard Satoru's teenage voice: that's how happy he was.
Suguru couldn't wrap his head around it: Satoru must've felt it before him, how the child didn't seem to he able to produce half an ounce of cursed energy.
Why was he so relaxed then?!
He had been the first to ever bring up the possibility of their child being born unable to ever grasp jujutsu.
That should've meant he was also concerned, right?!
"Suguru...", another voice resonated, Satoru's proper adult one.
I could never hate something born from the both of us, Satoru .
Suguru heard his own voice again, his palms sweating: he'd said it, and he couldn't back down now.
He meant it, and he still did.
The shock was great, but he could not hate a child born from his Satoru.
He made a step closer, and started out with a basic: "How are you holding up? Everything went smoothly I assume?", while placing a hand on the older man's forehead.
He saw the baby's head resting against his lover's chest at the corner of his eyes, but he avoided looking directly at it.
Satoru smiled a little bit, still confident that he could fix Suguru's attitude to non-sorcerers enough to keep together the life he'd so hardly worked for: the safety of his students, his relationship and, now, family with his one and only.
A little bit of delusion and arrogance in his own abilities to keep it together made it so that he could ignore the red flags of the situation.
Plus, Suguru had promised.
The word 'promise' had not escaped his mouth, but he'd memorised that conversation they'd had shortly before he'd noticed he was expecting, playing it over and over in his head, and accepted it as a promise by Suguru.
"Yeah, I took the stitches like a champ. Right, Shoko?"
He replied tiredly, leaning against the pillows of his propped-up hospital bed: he stared at Suguru's arms as if he could will them to wrap around him in that time of need.
"Sure you did", she said not so confidently, as she could not decide where to set her eyes: she felt not only out of place, but as if she needed to exit immediately or the next scene of the movie that was the couple's life could not go on.
"You did wonderful for a first timer, especially with your kid taking after you with that big head."
She looked as Satoru cupped Akihiko's full head of black hair with his hand, looking down adoringly at his baby son.
While Suguru... he looked at Satoru with so much worry in his eyes.
She needed to go.
"I'll be back later to check on your vitals. Try to get some rest, no stressing."
The door closed with a soft click, and Satoru began his 'fixing' attempts right away.
"So... do you think he has the face of an Akihiko or someone else's? I'm starting to think you were right, and it would sound cute if his name ended with an U, just like ours."
He gently brushed the baby's cheek with his thumb as he spoke, trying to get Suguru engaged.
The latter, however, stayed on edge on top of his toes.
"Akihiko sounds good", he replied, not quite muttering but not daring to sound cheerful, or he would've sounded too fake, he knew that.
"Well, we have some more days to properly ponder over it", Satoru said, pulling one of his magnetic smiles that he knew his boyfriend could not resist.
"If you want to name him Akimitsu, it's more than fine by me."
Suguru spoke the truth, but his voice was a little too confident, as if he did not care in that sense.
"You hold him and tell me if he has the personality of someone bearing those kanjis in their name", the older man's voice echoed through the small room over the deafening, uncomfortable silence that was so foreign to their relationship.
Suguru hadn't asked to hold the baby first thing as he'd entered the room, and that hurt Satoru already.
So, he was going to coax the famously magical moment of bonding to happen.
Suguru did not protest, and did his best to hold the baby on his chest, skin to skin.
He felt a crushing wave of love the moment the newborn wrapped his wrinkly fingers around his own, but, as any wave, it threatened to drown him.
He didn't breathe for the longest time, as a certain thought monopolised his brain activity: the baby looked just like him.
And yet, it was exactly what Suguru hated.
He felt as if the gods had struck him with a bad one, to force him to look right in the eyes at something he wanted to turn his back at, to see himself in the category he hated the most.
"Nine months in my belly... and you dare to look just like and only like your papa, kiddo", Satoru finally spoke, his voice threatening to break when he saw small tears at the corner of Suguru's dark eyes.
"He'll have your... character", Suguru replied, his voice definitely reflecting the feeling of the water of affection threatening to flood his lungs until they collapsed.
He would've liked to replace that 'character' with 'technique', so much.
But he forced himself to speak straight.
And, inevitably, his thoughts went to the arsenal of cursed objects he could use to infuse his child with jujutsu as if it could be a shock therapy.
He didn't bother considering whether it would work, if Akihiko truly possessed no cursed energy at all, or just a speck.
Because he loved that child, now.
And he was going to go through all the mental and physical gymnastics it took, for Akihiko to fit into his world.
Where Satoru could be safe.
Where Akihiko could be safe.
Where their family would thrive.
¤¤¤
"Thanks for the party, Akihiko-chan!", Yuji cooed, playfully shaking the toddler's hand as he was among the last ones saying his goodbye after the one-year-old's birthday party.
The little boy's contented laughs filled the air as he ran after Yuji to the door, with a confidence beyond his age.
Akihiko had learned to walk rather early, so by age twelve months, he was already unstoppable, challenging his parents daily.
As Suguru wiped the table off of cake icing, confetti and cookie crumbs, Satoru watched his student interact with his son: he tried not to smile too wide, and fixed his sunglasses just for fidgeting purposes.
Soon enough, Shoko quietly walked over to him, to lean against the same wall.
"He is quite the quick learner", she mumbled, looking at Akihiko as he moved to climb the couch and pull the cushions out as if they weighed nothing.
"Yeah", Satoru chuckled, setting his eyes on his little son.
"His growth has been remarkable", Shoko commented, not mentioning out loud the 'but' that should've followed: sure, Akihiko was developing fast, racing through the world around him and babbling non stop, but there was one area where he'd just... halted completely, and he stood in complete darkness.
Satoru was puzzled, too.
He was glad he didn't have to already start worrying about taking measures to protect his house from his child's cursed technique, but it definitely felt off, to have a child that defied the odds and was born a non-sorcerer from two strongest.
"Do you think it could be...?"
"Heavenly Restriction, yeah. We've thought about it. He just throws toys across the room as if they are feathers. He held his head at two weeks old, sat up by himself at four months... he's strong. And yet at the same time, he has not produced any cursed energy when in pain or distress. All signs point there..."
Satoru paused, clenching his dry lips together.
He didn't like to speak about it, but his son truly seemed to have been born in the same condition as the man that had once killed him.
Like Maki, too: at least, he knew what the future could look like.
Shoko tilted her head to the side a little and, listening carefully to the tone of her friend's voice while watching the toddler play, she felt the overwhelming urge to smoke to relieve the stress.
But she couldn't, of course.
"You know where to find me if you want to look into it with more checkups", she said, resorting to playing with her hair instead.
She thanked her friends for the good time she had and she went straight for the door, as she didn't have any purse to collect.
"Goodbye, Akihiko-kun", she waved at the toddler, whom squeaked and waved enthusiastically.
The door closed, leaving only the three boys of the Gojo-Geto household in Satoru's apartment.
It had been elegant and expensive prior to his pregnancy, though with the birth of the baby most of the glass tables and sharp-edged furniture had had to go.
Satoru sighed and ran his hands through his white hair as he looked at just how much there was to clean up, still. He was not cooking that evening.
And he could tell his lover wasn't in the mood to stand in front of the stoves either.
"Suguru..! Where do you wanna order from?", he called out, loud enough to be heard from the toddler's nursery, in which the floor was covered with, again, cake, confetti, and wrapping paper.
"Mmh, maybe sushi. Akihiko hasn't gotten any fish in yet this week."
Suguru mumbled, as he hurried into the kitchen to the trash bin to fill yet another bag.
Satoru smiled softly, and walked over to the shorter man, to have his waist hugged, to get that love, and his wish was granted.
There was barely time for one, two, three kisses by the kitchen island, that Akihiko made his presence loud and clear again, tossing a pillow to the other side of the couch and, standing up, calling his dada.
“Coming, sweetie pie…”
Satoru mumbled, quickly moving to pick up his baby and hold him on his lap after crashing onto the couch, tired from a long day of preparing a birthday party and running after a toddler.
“You place the order, Suguru?”
“Yeah”, the raven-haired replied, grabbing his phone and starting to scroll while he disappeared in the dark corridor.
Satoru sat contentedly in the mess their living room had become, holding Akihiko on his lap and gently kissing his head.
He loved where his life was, at the moment.
“Dada's gotta finish cleaning up, or your little chubby fingers will start picking up confetti and leftover cake to eat instead of nigiri.”
With that, Satoru laid Akihiko down on a pillow: the toddler didn't protest, the tiredness from an hours-long party of attention finally getting to him.
The white-haired man was barely able to keep his eyes off of his son, his mini Suguru, while he cleaned up, tossing the paper, plastic and general waste in different bins without even looking.
Though when his long, pale fingers unexpectedly touched leather, as he was setting up a picture frame gifted by Shoko on a shelf in their kitchen, he froze.
It was a cube-shaped shelf, perfect to stuff things into without the risking of them dropping to the floor.
Satoru had perhaps never put his hands in there, all the years he'd been living there.
But between the few books he recognised, there was one he didn't: it stood there, blending in the furniture, hiding in plain sight.
It was more like a… manuscript. It looked and smelled old. He had no idea how it could've ended up in his kitchen.
Out of curiosity, he picked it up, and opened the second page.
He skimmed through the pages, trying to convince himself that he wasn't reading what he was actually reading.
“Suguru..? Suguru! SUGURU!”
He called three times, louder and more insistently each time.
On Heavenly Restriction - Guide to cursed spirits, cursed objects and enhancers for cursed energy
“What is the meaning of this?!”
He nearly shouted, as soon as he saw the other man's frame emerging from the corridor.
His question was a rhetorical one: he knew exactly what that book was, which was why he was so mad.
He knew what it was, he knew why Suguru owned it, but he couldn't wrap his head around why he himself hadn't managed to get his boyfriend uninterested in those matters, a full year after the birth of their child.
Suguru's hands slowly fell to his sides as soon as he understood what the other man was talking -or actually, yelling- about.
To Satoru's question inquiring what the book was, Suguru wanted to reply with ‘It's the solution I've long been looking for’, but he knew his partner would have nothing to do with that.
Though now he needed to tread carefully, if he still wanted the privilege of calling Satoru his partner.
The latter, meanwhile, breathed heavily, he too feeling like he was walking on thin ice.
He didn't want to lose Suguru: one time had felt awful enough.
“Satoru… you know I want what's best for him. And I love him, as I said I would back then. But try to think about what would happen if he can't see nor fight curses: he could end up as one of the several thousands ‘mysterious deaths’ this country sees every year.”
He swallowed, then briefly turned around to face the couch: Akihiko had fallen asleep, hugging a pillow with his whole small body.
He was safe for now, but the world out there was cruel.
“I've done my research. I think we ought to try. After that everything will be easier: I don't think we lack the tools to teach him jujutsu, do we?”, he tried to appear more relaxed as he repeated the same explanation he had rehearsed time and time again.
In fact, the book had been hiding in plain sight on purpose.
“Suguru… if you swap a large amount of physical strength for an equal amount of cursed energy, what are you left with on the other plate?”
“Satoru… you do know that no human's physical strength can rival jujutsu, right? That’s why you won, and why Toji Zen’in lost.
The procedure will undoubtedly weaken him, but once he’s gained cursed energy in adequate quantities, the sky’s the limit.
He’s your child, afterall.”
Both clenched their teeth, because as much as it sucked, they both recognised that the other had a point they couldn’t easily disprove.
Though between the two, Satoru was the only one who really thought he had something to lose.
“Why don’t you get it?!”, Satoru almost sobbed.
Inside he was trembling, but on the outside, he stood his ground.
“I want what’s safer for him. I can get him a pair of glasses so he can see curses and train him like I train Maki. It’s that simple.
A-And… what if something happens to him?!”
“Satoru”, the raven-haired man replied quietly, trying to mask how offended he was. He was sure, by that point, that his beloved understood his worldview perfectly. But it turned out he’d been wrong.
“ I will make the binding vow. As if I would put a toddler in danger. Our toddler, nonetheless. I just want him to be able to protect himself from the many cursed spirits he’ll run into throughout his life.”
“I don’t need you in danger either. As long as I breathe no one in my life will be forced to fight for their survival.”
Silence followed, as Satoru tried to collect some strength to continue.
“Suguru… please. You… you love Akihiko, right?”
“Technically only second to you. Practically, it's a love that's one of its kind.”
“See?”, Satoru muttered, as he feared the tears coming, “You already love him now that jujutsu isn't flowing through his veins. You don't need to change him, do you?”
“I love him like humanity has loved to gaze at the stars, at the planets, at the moon. I adore him, and yet I recognise he isn't part of my world, but he sits at the edge of it. That's why I feel like my love for him is so exceptional. I want to bring him to this side, Satoru, to our world. I want him to be one of us.”
Satoru's throat completely closed, which was good, so no chuckle nor sob could get out.
“
Our world
, you say… the same world where we two were targeted and hunted down as literal kids? The same world that was willing to sacrifice Riko? The same world that sentenced Yuji to death?
Of course I do know that the world is dangerous to non-sorcerers because they lack jujutsu techniques.
But I reckon we sorcerers have a much shorter, more precarious life exactly because of jujutsu, even when we don't have to protect civilians. That is part of the reason why you left the first time, right?
A-And also… the higher-ups will want to milk our child of every drop of cursed energy he might gain. And you hate them as much as I do.”
Suguru swallowed hard, and the sound he made could be heard across the room: he'd just swallowed a large, bitter pill as, for the first time, he began to see the cracks in that perfect picture of the world he'd carefully constructed and religiously studied.
“We can agree the world sucks on both sides”, he paused, as the heavy pill settled into his stomach.
The enzymes began to do their job, and the drug of realisation began to flow through his veins.
“Satoru, just… let us keep the options open. Please. What… What if something happens, something so bad it requires jujutsu for personal survival?”
Worst-case scenarios plagued Suguru's mind: Akihiko falling victim to a cursed spirit, Satoru attracting a lot of danger to himself as he tries to protect Akihiko, having to try to teach his son to defend himself against something that was always going to be utterly bigger than him.
Meanwhile, Satoru's mind, too, spun at a thousand times per hour.
He saw the worst-case scenarios too.
But he wanted to put his foot down, now that he'd finally opened a small crack into Suguru's shell, to let in what he thought to be the light.
Though before he could articulate a repetitive reply, the doorbell rang. And Akihiko began to whine, likely hungry.
The delivery man was generously tipped and next, the little family sat quietly around the table.
Suguru put on the TV a calming sensory video for Akihiko, in hopes of getting him to fall asleep on a full belly as quickly as possible.
The couple ate in silence, but it wasn't as hostile of a pause as they'd expected it to be.
For around half an hour, they were just Akihiko's parents again: they fed him bits of sushi, held the water glass for him, and kept him occupied with practicing chopsticks he was already working on mastering.
“Pa-pa…”, the little boy mumbled as he sat on Satoru's lap, his body pressed against the white-haired man but his attention monopolised by the raven-haired.
“Yes, buddy?”, Suguru mumbled lovingly, patting the boy's hair the same colour as his own.
He truly wanted the best for his child.
He realised he didn't want to harm him in the process of a binding vow he could only loosely predict the consequences of.
But he was still desperate to give him the best tools to fend for himself.
Lights and phones were turned off as Akihiko was lulled to sleep for a bit, then left to lay in his crib to fall asleep on his own.
And in equal silence, Satoru and Suguru went back to the living room: as if it were a sign, now they had to finish their heated discussion in silence.
“Satoru…”, the raven-haired man began, “let me do more research on this binding vow, if I can find anything. And if I can't”, he let a deep breath out, “I'll promise I'll let it go.”
The taller man's heart ached, seeing the genuine sadness in his boyfriend's eyes: he knew that in his own twisted ways, Suguru just wanted the best for their son.
“Suguru… I understand where you come from, I really do”, and he proceeded to tell him the whole truth.
He would've liked it better if Akihiko had been born with jujutsu powers, somewhere in between a regular citizen and the status of strongest, just so the future could've been a little more predictable, while the boy wouldn't have been weighed down by the burden of being a special-grade sorcerer.
“But I'd still rather have a weakling for a child than one that is compromised beyond repair.”
Suguru was about to answer, irritated and offended to hear his partner merely hint at him wanting to harm their child, but he stayed silent for a moment more.
Satoru cupped the other's hand in his own, with the tenderness of someone that knows what it's like to see your worldwide shatter into a million pieces.
To find yourself in the dark after having lived life down a paved road lit up by the torches of values, whatever the latter are.
It must’ve been twice as awful to the raven-haired man, seeing the cracks in his world for the second time before he could even turn thirty.
“He doesn't have to be a weakling. I won’t let him be one. For his own good. I believe he has some strength in him, I just have to teach him to cultivate it”, he sentenced.
Satoru, though he maintained sympathy and, most of all, love for Suguru, wanted to put his foot down.
“Suguru… please promise you'll love our weakling son even if he doesn't become strong.”
The white-haired man hated pronouncing those words, and the world he'd been born into that deemed ‘weak’ a boy who was so far ahead of his peers in his development.
“I'll help him grow strong exactly because I love him”, Suguru muttered, holding his face in his hands, leaning over his knees.
“Well, that makes two of us. Who knows… maybe he'll surpass his old men one day.”
Suguru smiled the tiniest bit, though he needed to lay down, as his headache was pounding like few other times.
Soon enough, his beloved joined him, and they laid down together on the couch.
“You better not slack off in the meantime, ‘Toru.”
“Look who's talking, Suguru…”