Chapter Text
October 31, 2018
Shibuya
The last thing Satoru sees is his best friend’s face.
The stitches on his forehead don’t make him any less beautiful, but they do make Satoru feel sick to his stomach. They are like a flashing neon sign, telling that even though his best friend’s body is standing right in front of him – it’s not him.
Then it’s just darkness.
Satoru feels like he’s drowning, but there’s nothing to drown in.
All his life he has sensed things brighter and louder than anyone else: he could see, hear, smell, taste, feel everything stronger. So strongly that it exhausted him until he learned how to use reversed cursed technique. And even with it, he still feels the exhaustion sometimes.
But now he senses nothing. It’s like all his senses have been removed. It feels hard to even think.
He has no idea how much time passes. The only thing he can get a grip on, the only thing, the only face he can see even in the darkness is –
Suddenly he feels a pull. So lightly that he almost misses it.
But he feels it nevertheless, and clutches to it.
When he opens his eyes – had he closed them? – his senses explode. Suddenly he can sense everything again.
Everything. Including very familiar feeling. Like –
No. It can’t be. It’s impossible.
As the explosion calms down, he realizes he’s standing in a room. In a kitchen.
And in the end of the string which pulls him closer to something or someone, stronger and stronger, is –
Satoru’s senses are full of him at the same second his eyes lay on the man. All his six eyes are staring at him. He can hear his breathing. Smell him and feel him. His soul immediately recognizes him.
He’s not a fake.
He doesn’t look even a little fazed when he turns around and his purple eyes meet Satoru’s own. He’s holding a bowl full of whipped cream in his one arm, his other hand wrapped around a whisk.
“You’re late.” Suguru smiles softly at him. “Satoru.”