Chapter Text
Suguru first noticed because Satoru started waking before him.
That, by itself, meant almost nothing.
Satoru was unpredictable about sleep at the best of times. He could sleep through an entire afternoon after a difficult mission, then complain that he’d wasted valuable hours and stay awake until sunrise out of spite. He could fall asleep sitting upright in a chair. He could also insist that he had slept perfectly when Suguru knew for a fact that he’d been wandering the halls at three in the morning.
So when Suguru woke one Tuesday and found Satoru already gone, he didn’t think much of it.
He rolled over.
The other side of the room was empty.
“Satoru?”
No answer.
Suguru checked the clock.
5:17 a.m.
He sighed into his pillow.
“Of course.”
He got dressed.
By the time he reached the kitchen, Satoru was already there.
He was standing barefoot on one of the chairs.
There was a stack of bowls on the counter.
“What are you doing?”
Satoru glanced over his shoulder.
“Reorganizing.”
“Why?”
“They’re in the wrong order.”
Suguru looked at the bowls.
They looked perfectly fine.
“Satoru.”
“What?”
“It’s five in the morning.”
“Yes.”
“Why are you reorganizing bowls?”
“Because I noticed the sizes weren’t arranged correctly.”
“They’re bowls.”
“Exactly.”
Suguru stared at him.
Satoru grinned.
There was something different about that grin.
It was wider than usual.
Too bright.
“You’re weird,” Suguru said.
“You’re just jealous.”
“Of your bowl system?”
“Exactly.”
Satoru hopped down.
He was wearing an oversized shirt and sweatpants, his hair sticking up on one side.
He looked energized.
Not tired.
Not even remotely tired.
Suguru glanced at the clock again.
“When did you get up?”
“Four.”
“You went to bed at midnight.”
“I was awake.”
“For four hours?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re not tired?”
“No.”
Satoru opened a cupboard.
“I made breakfast.”
Suguru stared at him.
“You?”
“Don’t sound so shocked.”
“You once burned instant noodles.”
“That was sabotage.”
“By whom?”
“The noodles.”
Suguru laughed.
Satoru smiled.
It seemed normal.
That was the problem.
At first, everything seemed normal.
Satoru was just energetic.
Satoru was always energetic.
He was just talking more.
Satoru always talked too much.
He was simply excited.
Satoru was often excited.
There was an explanation for everything.
So Suguru let himself accept them.
For another two days.
———
By Thursday, Satoru had reorganized the bookshelves.
Then the weapons cabinet.
Then the mission files.
Then the kitchen.
Then, inexplicably, Suguru’s desk.
Suguru came back from a mission to find every pen arranged by length.
He stopped in the doorway.
“Satoru.”
“You’re welcome.”
“What happened?”
“Your desk was horrifying.”
“It was organized.”
“It was chaos pretending to be organized.”
Suguru looked at the pens.
There were twelve of them.
Perfectly aligned.
“You did all this?”
“Obviously.”
“Why?”
Satoru shrugged.
“I had time.”
Suguru looked at him.
“How much sleep did you get?”
“Enough.”
“How much?”
“Why are you obsessed with that?”
“Because I asked.”
Satoru smiled.
“Three hours.”
Suguru’s expression changed.
“Satoru.”
“I feel great.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It kind of is.”
Satoru leaned back in his chair.
“I’ve gotten more done this week than I usually do in a month.”
“That’s because you haven’t stopped.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not necessarily good.”
Satoru rolled his eyes.
“You’re becoming boring.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
He stood.
“I have an idea.”
“That sentence never ends well.”
Satoru ignored him.
“We should redesign the training room.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s already designed.”
“It’s badly designed.”
“You’re not redesigning it.”
“Fine.”
Satoru paused.
“What if I redesign the hallway?”
“No.”
“The storage room?”
“No.”
“The entire school?”
“Satoru.”
“Fine.”
He dropped back into the chair.
For a few minutes, he was quiet.
Then he said,
“Do you ever feel like everyone else is moving too slowly?”
Suguru looked up.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, you said-”
“I said nothing.”
The answer was sharper.
Suguru stopped.
Satoru smiled again.
“Come on. We have work.”
———
The first time Satoru mentioned being watched, it was almost casual.
They were walking back from a mission.
The afternoon sun had turned the pavement white.
Satoru was carrying a convenience-store bag full of sweets.
Suguru had learned not to ask why he needed that much sugar.
They were halfway across the street when Satoru stopped.
“That guy’s been following us.”
Suguru looked behind them.
A salaryman stood near the corner.
He was looking at his phone.
“Who?”
“That guy.”
“He’s looking at his phone.”
“He looked at me twice.”
Suguru watched him.
The man put his phone away and crossed the street in the opposite direction.
Satoru watched him go.
“See?”
“He left.”
“Because he noticed I saw him.”
Suguru looked at Satoru.
His tone was matter-of-fact.
Completely certain.
“Or he was going somewhere.”
Satoru glanced at him.
“You don’t believe me.”
“I think you might have misread it.”
Satoru smiled.
“Same thing.”
“No.”
“Sure.”
He started walking again.
Suguru followed.
The conversation should have ended there.
Instead, over the next several days, the incidents multiplied.
Someone at the school was watching him.
A staff member had asked an unusual question.
A mission had been assigned too quickly.
A window had been left open.
Someone had moved one of his things.
Someone had stood outside the dormitory.
None of the individual details were particularly strange.
Together, in Satoru’s mind, they became a pattern.
Suguru tried to listen without validating the conclusions.
That distinction became harder every day.
“What happened?”
Satoru was sitting on his bed.
He hadn’t turned the lights on.
“Someone was outside.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you see them?”
“Yes.”
“Did you recognize them?”
“No.”
“What did they do?”
“Nothing.”
Suguru paused.
“Nothing?”
“They stood there.”
“Where?”
“Across the courtyard.”
“How long?”
“Maybe ten minutes.”
“Did they come closer?”
“No.”
“Did they speak to you?”
“No.”
Suguru nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
Satoru looked at him.
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Trying to find reasons.”
“I’m trying to understand.”
“You think I’m imagining things.”
“I think you’re seeing things differently than I am.”
Satoru’s jaw tightened.
“That’s a nice way to say it.”
“I mean it.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Satoru looked away.
His fingers were moving.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Against the edge of the mattress.
“Everyone thinks I’m overreacting.”
“I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I don’t.”
“You keep asking whether I’m sure.”
“Because I want to know what you’re experiencing.”
Satoru was silent.
Then:
“I know what I saw.”
“I believe you saw it.”
Satoru looked at him.
“That’s not enough.”
Suguru didn’t have an answer.
Because he knew what Satoru wanted.
He wanted someone to say Yes. You’re right. They’re following you.
Suguru couldn’t do that.
Not when he couldn’t verify it.
Not when Satoru had barely slept for nearly a week.
Not when the medication he’d been prescribed was still sitting untouched in its container.
Suguru looked toward the bedside table.
Satoru noticed.
His expression immediately hardened.
“Don’t.”
“You haven’t taken them.”
“I don’t need them.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Satoru.”
“About a week.”
Suguru sat down.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you’d do this.”
“Do what?”
“Look at me like I’m sick.”
Suguru’s expression softened.
“You are sick.”
Satoru went very still.
Suguru immediately regretted the bluntness.
“I didn’t mean-”
“I know.”
Satoru stood.
“I’m going out.”
“Where?”
“Outside.”
“Satoru.”
“I need air.”
“Can I come?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to think.”
“You can think here.”
“No.”
He pulled on his shoes.
Suguru watched him.
“How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Take your phone.”
Satoru hesitated.
Then picked it up.
“Fine.”
“And come back.”
Satoru looked at him.
“I will.”
The door closed.
Suguru sat alone.
He stared at the medication container.
Then at the door.
He told himself Satoru would be back in an hour.
He told himself not to panic.
He told himself that this wasn’t yet a crisis.
He was wrong.