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It was quiet. So, so quiet, as Suguru laid facedown in his bed, motionless, still mostly asleep.
… mm.
The bed was so nice. Soft, comfortable. Smooth against his skin. He was a bit too hot, though. So Suguru carefully shifted, trying not to disturb his cat.
Wait, where was Mochi…?
… groggily, he reached out a hand, trying to find his asshole of a fat cat’s body heat.
“... where are you, boy…” Suguru grumbled sleepily, then paused, slowly lifting his head.
That wasn’t his voice. That was his voice if he inhaled helium. Totally different tone. Was he sick or something?
… he brought up a hand, slowly touching his throat, eyes still closed.
He wasn’t… sore. But something felt off.
What was covering his eyes? Something silky soft and tight. Suguru reached up, clumsily ripping off the black material.
…!
“What the fuck?!” he screeched, pressing his hands against his eyes.
Everything was bright. He didn’t know how the hell to describe it, how could he describe something like this? He could see EVERYTHING. Everything in a level of detail he hadn’t known was possible. Hell, his head felt like it split from just a second of trying to look.
This wasn’t just a migraine. Was something wrong?
Suguru’s hand flew out, blindly gripping the bedframe. Something was wrong. Wrong, wrong wrong. Blindly, he stumbled out of bed, bumping into a bedside table he knew hadn’t been there before, grabbing it for support as his free hand closed around… glasses?
… dread prickled at the back of his neck as he fumbled with them, opening the arms and jamming them onto his face.
The colours dulled slightly, to a more manageable level. Thank god.
Suguru cautiously opened his eyes, ignoring the throbbing headache.
“... what the fuck,” he repeated, voice softer now, as his gaze ripped around.
This wasn’t his damn room. Not the twin XL bed he knew, his cat was nowhere to be seen, nor his bookshelf or his desk, cluttered with his homework.
No. This was a completely new room altogether. Traditional Japanese, with clothes tossed carelessly in the corner, but massive. High ceilings, bare floor made out of some kind of dark wood, maybe cedar or oak. Bright, spacious windows lining the walls, with a stunning view. Hell, it looked like he was in the country, not the city. But he could see the buildings in the distance. And the bed... king sized, with what looked like high quality sheets, and a carved bed frame.
"Where the hell am I?" Geto murmured to himself, hearing how strange his voice sounded.
He turned, sensing a mirror behind him. He didn't know *how* he knew that. He had no way of knowing in the first place. He sort of... saw it? But...
When he met his own eyes in the mirror, they weren't their usual black shade.
They were a vibrant, stunning blue, with white hair falling in them.
"... this has got to be a joke."
He was in the body of Satoru Gojo.