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The luminous stage lights beamed across Satoru’s glowing, white hair as he stepped foot onto the stage as the crowd rampaged into cheers, piercing through his ears. His delicate outfit wasn’t skin tight, but it felt like it was choking him, especially around his neck. He’d done this a round before, but this one was different.
He was against his one and only.
ᯓ✧
He roughly remembers the first day he saw Suguru. It was shortly after an immense storm of training, and they were resting nearby some trees in ANAKT garden. Both were so young, that when the two first noticed each other, only a few details were revealed about themselves.
Bangs, was Satoru’s immediate thought when he first glanced towards the resting Suguru. His hair was tightly in a bun, with a small strand of black hair on the side. Looks kinda stupid.
Eyes, was what Suguru spotted. Such bright, beautiful eyes, brighter than the sky he’d looked at for years.
It was from then that they began getting closer to each other, relaxing together or training extensively. Calling out each other's names from afar. Noticing how they were practically the same, but with differences.
Once, a fight was brought out against some children. The two watched in horror, blood splattered across the grass. Beaten and bruised.
Another instance was a few years later, preparing for the real thing, the real life or death scenario. Only a few words were muttered between the two when they were talking.
“Satoru,” Suguru muttered, the ringing of his name felt so good and warming, but he knew something wrong was coming after that by the tone of Suguru’s voice and the way he slumped over.
“Hm?”
“If we ever had to sing—wish I hope we don’t— I wi-“
Satoru abruptly changed the tone, “I’d do anything to get us out of there,” he unknowingly pressed their hands together, his glasses tilted slightly against the bridge of his nose.
Suguru tugged to let go, “What the hell does that imply, Satoru?”
“I dunno, we could rig the system or something, do anything to get out of here, both of us, alive.”
Suguru’s eyebrows grew with worry, “You know that isn’t possible,” his voice slurred to almost a whisper, his eyes glancing away. But Satoru still stared, hands tightly gripped against Suguru’s.
“You don’t know that, there could-“ he tried to argue, but Suguru just sighed, adjusting himself and slowly moving back, releasing their hands.
“I wish there was another way,” He muttered softly to himself, looking at his empty hands, twiddling his fingers like some sort of entertainment. The two sat in silence for a while, a breeze catching their hair.
If somehow there was a way, I’d let you win, Satoru thought. He’d never mentioned it clearly, but he adored Suguru. Yearned. Admired the way he could defy his cockiness and antics, but also have fun with him as well. But he couldn’t quote what word he was looking for.
He was almost like his own god, his own worship. The way he beams makes Satoru feel weak. It’s almost like he was destined to be his. His own god, and nobody else’s. A simple god and a simple worshipper. That’s what life should consist of, that’s what he’d been taught. A greater being. He could pray for endlessly. He’d sacrifice himself for Suguru.
His god, his universe,
His one and only.
ᯓ✧
Then the time came. His hands slowly turned towards the mic, as the crowd began to rumble again once he came out. He seemed so calm, but Satoru knew something was off.
His outfit was similar to Satoru’s, only a few touch-ups and color differences. Damn, they really want to rub it in.
Satoru took one quick glance at his outfit, how it warped around his body and his waist. Before reconnecting, he examined Suguru’s face, the two simultaneously looking at each other. Suguru then nodded, almost as a sign of reassurance, a you’ve got this kind of look.
And then it began.
The singing.
The music blasting across the room.
The visuals flushed his eyesight.
He looked over again, at him.
He knew what he wanted to do.
He wandered over, still singing, and did something so quickly he didn’t have time to back out.
He grabbed Suguru’s waist and began dancing. Not too difficult or fast. A slow waltz, matching with the tempo. For a few brief seconds, it felt as if they were both flying. Suguru didn’t seem keen at first, but slowly led into it, spinning himself, and catching Satoru grin, his teeth peeking through his glossy lips.
A brief instrumental part played and they both stopped. Suguru smiled so brightly that Satoru felt as if the aliens watching on the top row could see him blush. Their feet stood still, as they faced together, and in a heartbeat, they smashed their faces together.
A simple kiss. One that felt like the whole universe had stopped moving. Suguru initiated the kiss as well, caressing his hands against Satoru’s cheek and jawline, the two savoring every moment of it. Suguru had been waiting for this, because once Satoru slowly pulled away, Suguru pulled him back, more delicate and tenderly. The weight on their shoulders was gone.
Once the two finally met again after slowly drifting their mouths apart, Suguru still had his hands on his face, cupping them. The two laughed, closing the space between them, acting as if they’d live forever. Like they weren’t meant for this world, but a simpler, better world. One they could only have imagined.
And then a shot rang out. Their smiles and voices of laughter were silenced immediately, as Satoru noticed blood on Suguru’s neck.
No. No, he wasn’t supposed to be the one.
No.
Suguru has been eliminated.
Another shot rang out, this time making him collapse to the ground, surrounding him in his own pool of dark, maroon blood, leaking from the side of his neck. The lights dimmed, and Satoru could hardly see anything besides him. His lover. The one he was supposed to die for.
He dropped to his knees, blood staining his clothes. He slowly picked up his body, shuddering in fear, whispering curses under his breath.
“Satoru,” his name now sounded bitter. He glanced down towards his face, cowardly smiling.
Satoru held back tears, holding back his emotions from pooling out into his performance. His mind seemed lost. Who was he to worship if he had no god?
He could only think of one thing to do. He leaned closer to Suguru, almost hearing his slow breath and the decrease of heart beats, and whispered.
“————“.
A small message only Suguru heard, and he made sure of that. Suguru’s eyes meet his, once sky blue now darkened, like the sky had fallen. In shock, his final moments were filled with a light smile that spread across his face.
And then he fell against Satoru’s arms, lifeless. His hair, now messy, unkempt, sprawled across Satoru’s fingers, intertwined, knotted together, almost like a sign he didn’t want to let go.
And Satoru didn’t want to either.
He had won.
And now he carried the guilt of losing his best friend.
His god, his universe.
Incurable from death.