Chapter Text
Suguru stared down into his bowl of noodles, trying to at least half pay attention to whatever Satoru was saying. His chopsticks lay unused next to his bowl, since one of his hands was clenched into a fist under the table and the other was busy holding his head up. Normally, ramen was his favorite meals that the school kitchens prepared, but after spending most of his day fighting a curse that was covered in dozens of fleshy tendrils that, unfortunately, had a striking resemblance to his dinner, he couldn’t bring himself to try taking a bite.
He had only been exorcising curses in the city for a couple of months, and he already found himself missing the curses of the country, as surprised as he was to feel that way. He knew that the dense population of the city would mean stronger curses, but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer difference between the few he dealt with back home and the ones he fought on missions now. Back in his village, a nasty curse might taste like spoiled milk, or meat that had been left in the sun for too long by mistake. At worst, he would be left with a stomach ache that a nice cup of tea could help. Now, the curses tasted of vomit and other flavors so putrid that he didn’t have anything to compare it to. His stomach could be in pain for days, killing his appetite and leading him to throw up whatever he managed to get down. He’d never felt so physically weak from the weight loss and lack of food, or so mentally exhausted from having to deal with the side effects, and he hasn’t even been assigned any high grade curses yet.
The sudden absence of Satoru’s voice suddenly caught Suguru’s attention, causing the latter to look up from his bowl. Satoru was staring at him, looking as if he was waiting for some kind of response.
“…what?” Suguru asked after a pause, hoping that his voice didn’t sound as strained and forced as it felt. He trusted Satoru at this point, they were partners after all, but for some reason, he didn’t want him to catch on about the toll exorcising curses was taking on his body.
“I said, if you had to pick any animal to transform into during the full moon werewolf style, what animal would you pick?” Satoru asked, still his usual animated self even after being on a mission all day.
Suguru blinked at him, trying to get his sluggish brain to remember how words worked.
“A bird? I guess?” He answered, doing his best to keep his head from drooping back down.
Satoru’s gaze was fixed on him, the ever present, cocky, shit eating smile on his face like usual. However, his eyebrows twitched slightly as his eyes flickered over Sugru, down to his untouched dinner, and back up to his face. He said nothing momentarily, before piping up with all of his usual energy.
“A bird huh? I think I’d want to be one of those fish that lives suuuper deep in the ocean.” He said, answering his own question.
Suguru found this choice of animal slightly interesting, but the sharp ache and cramping in his stomach prevented him from inquiring further. All he could focus on was putting all his effort into not throwing up right there in the cafeteria.
“Don’t throw up. Do not throw up. Don’t in front of Satoru; don’t do it” His brain chanted at him from inside his skull.
“Don’t throw up, please don’t throw up, wait for him to leave first at least, don’t-god my stomach hurts so much-throw up. Don’t throw up. Just don’t. I’m gonna throw up. I’m gonna throw up.”
Suguru inhaled deeply through his nose, clenching his fist harder under the table so his nails dug into his palm. He forced his face to relax as much as he could, straightening up out of the position where he was leaning on his hand.
“I think I’m gonna head up for the night” he said, hoping his voice was clear enough despite how little he was willing to open his mouth.
A crease appeared on Satoru’s forehead for a moment as Suguru stood. “Sure go ahead…mind if I finish your leftovers?” He asked. Thankfully not commenting on the fact that Suguru’s “leftovers” were basically a full meal.
Suguru glanced down at his untouched plate, before he pushed it forward towards Satoru. “Yeah sure.” He mumbled, not caring how obvious it was that he didn’t eat, before turning and making his way towards the dorms as steadily but quickly as he could.
—-
By the time Suguru made it up the stairs, his legs were shaking and he could feel fresh sweat dripping down his arms and face. He stumbled into his room, gasping, as he crawled into his bed, curling up tightly and holding his stomach. He moaned involuntarily as a particularly bad cramp accosted him, grateful that Satoru had stayed in the café, lest he hear Suguru through the thin walls. He thought briefly about going to Shoko or Yaga and begging them for help, but the mere idea of standing again was enough to make him dizzy. He rolled over in bed, squeezing his eyes shut, willing the pain to go away. Sometimes, being trapped in his body felt like the worst curse of all.