Chapter Text
For as long as Suguru Getou can remember he’s had a voice in his head.
And no, he doesn’t mean this in the way that some people experience their thoughts as an inner dialogue—he means it literally, like he has an actual, old guy’s voice jabbering on and on all day, every day, in his head.
And the worst part is, the guy's an absolute psycho.
Suguru isn’t exaggerating, honest! Because seriously, if the voice isn’t muttering about 'these disgusting monkeys’ or suggesting creative ways to cut down the surrounding population, it’s whining about some dude named Satoru.
Suguru talks to the guy for the first time when he’s four.
He regrets it, immediately.
After this guy knows that Suguru can hear him, he never stops talking. Ever. Just has to chime in his two yen on every little thing like Suguru is hanging on his every word. Seriously he acts like he’s some sort of prophet or some shit.
Oh wait, sorry, how could Suguru forget! This guy wasn’t a prophet, he’s a shamen or at least he was during his life, because that’s the icing on this shit cake of a situation, this guy—this fucking voice in his head—claims to be the adult version of himself.
Honestly, I don’t remember being such a brat. You have no respect.
Suguru just rolls his eyes and sighs in response. At twelve, he’s grown pretty accustomed to Getou, and yes that was the only name the voice wouldn’t complain about so Suguru compromised for the sake of his own sanity.
It’s difficult living with Getou in his head. Suguru honestly doesn’t know if he’s schizophrenic or not. He’s researched schizophrenia since the moment he learned what it was, he doesn’t think he has it but he can’t say for sure. All he is certain of is that he definitely sees and hears things that no one else can.
And for being the so-called, ‘future version’ of himself, Getou surely doesn’t have all the answers. One hulking case in point is the fact that Getou has no knowledge of the secondary genders present among the human race.
Just because these dynamics don’t exist in my reality doesn’t make me a figment of your imagination.
He grips his backpack straps, squeezing tightly instead of answering as he continues his boring trek home after mixed martial arts practice, unwilling to have this argument for the thousandth time.
There’s a group of boys in front of him, laughing and shoving each other cheerfully, and Suguru watches enviously.
They’re older than Suguru, all alphas of sixteen or seventeen, but Suguru recognizes them since they’re all in the same MMA class. Suguru’s been placed with the older kids because he’s something of a prodigy among kids in his own age group.
You’d think, since he’s so talented, he’d be more popular among the other brown belts, but you would be very wrong—this is just one more thing that makes him ‘other’ among his peers.
He doesn’t have any friends. He used to try to make them back in elementary school but between Getou hissing horrible things distractingly in his ear and the weird claims he used to make about all the monsters lurking around, no one ever wants to talk to him.
He knows better now than to A) Repeat any of the awful shit Getou says, or B) Mention the curses roaming about, but it's too late for his reputation, the title of ‘the weird kid’ has stuck to him like glue ever since his first months of school.
There, there, I keep telling you, your true friends are waiting for you. Only three more years until you meet them. That’s nothing compared to the time you’ve already waited.
Suguru curses the tiny ball of hope in his chest that Getou’s words create. He wants to be normal so badly. He wants friends to laugh and mess around with. He wants his classmates to like him and to not give him weird looks.
He wants to not be crazy and for everything Getou has told him to be real.
His parents definitely think he’s disturbed, they don’t say anything anymore but the looks they give him are obvious. He still slips sometimes, most frequently around them in the comfort of his own home, and he can see the unease in their faces when he accidentally talks out loud to Getou or stares at a curse in the corner for too long.
Worthless monkeys. You should just kill them already. Seriously.
And you should just shut up! They’re our parents, what’s wrong with you!?
He tunes out Getou’s angry grumbling, taking one last look at the guys in front of him as they kick a can back and forth—how can something so stupid look so fun?— before he turns into his apartment complex. He hears the boys shout and growl at each other as a scuffle breaks out between them for some small reason, normal alpha bullshit.
He starts the long climb up his apartment stairs, he lives on the fourth floor and the elevator’s been out since Suguru and his parents moved in two years ago.
He hears one of the boys yip, the others immediately ragging on him for making such an ‘omegan’ noise.
He winces as he stumbles over a stair, catching himself before he face-plants, but damnit he really hopes he isn’t an omega—that would be the final piece of proof that the universe hates him, that if on top of all the abnormal shit in his life he turns out to be a fucking omega too.
There are ways to tell, for boys at least. Just a simple ultrasound to see if he has a uterus lurking benignly under the surface. There’s also a physical exam that can be performed by a pediatrician, to see if he has a second, deeper opening down there.
In your asshole. Don’t be a child, Suguru. Say it, say ‘asshole~’
Suguru chokes on his own spit, face turning beet red as Getou cackles evilly in his ear.
His parents are traditionalist though, they believe that your presentation should be a surprise. Presentations can happen anywhere between eleven and sixteen, sometimes as late as eighteen if you’re a real late bloomer. Suguru might be waiting awhile and the anxiety-inducing suspense is slowly killing him.
You are so dramatic.
Suguru blows a raspberry but still doesn’t actually respond because fuck you Getou, seriously. He finally makes it to his apartment but fumbles with his front door knob, the damn door getting stuck sometimes due to the sweltering heat.
After he forces the door open, he yells out a quick ‘I’m home!’ to his parents as he kicks off his shoes in the front hall. Lining them up beside his parents’ and putting on his house slippers.
When he doesn’t get a greeting from either parent he walks into the kitchen, “Mom? Dad?” He calls as loudly as he dares since old man Hiroshi next door can be a real ass about noisiness.
“In the den, honey! Come in here real quick, your father and I want to talk to you,” Comes his mother’s nervous voice from the living room. He takes a quick look in the fridge, deciding to grab a granola bar from the pantry instead before he heads into the living room.
He immediately freezes once he passes the threshold. There are about fifty fly heads buzzing around his parents, he tries to relax and play it off but he knows they noticed his reaction. He sits opposite them on the other couch and tries not to look at any of the curses.
“What’s up?” He fidgets nervously.
“Honey,” His mom gives him a watery smile, clutching a white pharmacy bag to her chest, “You know we love you very much, right?”
Oh no.
Suguru ignores Getou but has to look away from his mom as a fly head walks right across her freaking eye, he stares down at the granola bar he is slowly crushing between his fists, “Y-yeah of course, mom.”
“A-and you know we only want what’s best for you, right?”
He starts to respond but his father’s impatient voice cuts him off, “Honestly Himiko, you coddle the boy. Suguru,” His father waits until Suguru looks up at him before he takes the bag out of his mother’s hands and tosses it at him, Suguru just barely catches it, “You are to start taking those. Immediately.”
Suguru unrolls the bag, peering into it and seeing two orange bottles, “Pills?” Suguru asks, confused. “Why—”
“Antipsychotics,” His father says simply, like he hasn’t just shaken Suguru’s very foundation with just one word.
“B-but,” Suguru stutters and Getou swears up a storm in his ear, “I’m not crazy!” He’s like seventy-five percent sure he’s not.
Neither of his parents answers him. His mother refuses to even look at him and his father just stares at him blankly, Suguru continues desperately, “I haven’t even been to the doctor! How can I be prescribed medication?!”
His father waves his statement away with an uninterested flap of his wrist, “We’ve talked to doctors for years about your concerning behaviors, twelve is the earliest we could get anyone to prescribe something for you.”
“B-but…” He trails off, glancing between his parents and not finding an ally in either of them.
“You will take this medication, Suguru.” His father says, imperiously.
“I…” the humming buzz of the fly heads is loud in his ears, “just…just let me have the night to think about it, please?”
His father’s face turns purple, opening his mouth to shout but he’s stopped by Suguru’s mother’s hand on his arm. His mother is finally looking at him and says gently, “Alright, Suguru. Just one night, we know you’ll make the right decision. Dinner will be ready in an hour, why don’t you go wash up?”
Clearly dismissed, he gets up from the couch, leaving the pills on the coffee table. “No thank you,” He says as he leaves the room, “I’m not hungry.”
He leans against his bedroom door once he shuts it and finally lets his tears fall. He slides down into a heap on the floor, burying his face in his knees to muffle his sobs.
They don’t know what they’re talking about. What filthy, worthless creatures. I can’t believe they’re trying this shit so early with you, I was sixteen before they suggested any of this nonsense.
Suguru smothers his face into his knees so he doesn’t scream.
This is all your fault! He thinks miserably at Getou, All those times I talked to you out loud are what really freaked them out! They were fine when I was just staring at stuff they couldn’t see, they thought I was just zoning out.
They are fools. They can’t fathom for even one second that there might be things much greater than the two of them out there. You are meant for those things, Suguru.
Suguru laughs wetly before quickly cutting off the sound, scared his parents might hear him. Yeah right, I’m meant for greatness? What a load of bullshit. He sighs and sits up, scrubbing his face with the back of his hand. Fuck, maybe my parents are right and I am crazy. Maybe if I start taking those pills you’ll finally leave me alone.
Don’t be a fool. Taking that medication when you don’t need it could kill you. You are not insane. I’ll prove it to you.
Suguru frowns, How?
There is a tournament happening in a few weeks. It happens every year in Hiraizumi. The place will be riddled with Jujutsu sorcerers. We’ll go and I’ll prove you aren't crazy.
Wouldn’t it be easier just to take me to this school your always yammering on about? A long pause occurs before Getou answers.
I don’t want you on their radar quite yet.
When Getou doesn’t say anything else on the subject, Suguru raises an eyebrow, “Well that doesn’t sound ominous at all—“ He quickly claps a hand over his own mouth, glancing fearfully at the door. He lets out a breath when neither of his parents bursts into the room brandishing pill bottles.
He gets up and makes his way over to his bed, collapsing back onto it. He stares up at the ceiling and weighs the pros and cons in his head.
On the one hand, if he does this, runs away to some random place, his parents will be pissed. They’ll probably lock him up in some psych ward and throw away the key.
On the other hand, this will finally prove once and for all if he’s insane. If there are other people like him—hope blooms bright in his chest—that can confirm that the things he sees are real, well then…
…You won’t be alone anymore, Suguru. Never again.
Tears well in his eyes, Okay Getou, what do I have to do?
——————
It’s actually laughably easy to steal off into the night. Turns out Getou has had an escape plan for them for years.
I didn’t think we’d need it quite this soon but its not like we’re going back, so I won’t need to think up a new one.
Nausea overtakes him and he bends over his knees to stop himself from throwing up right there on the train. Fuck, is he really never going back home? He guesses that if Getou is right and he’s this great sorcerer, or whatever, he can’t go back to a place where his parents would try to force feed him wrongfully prescribed medication.
But say Getou is wrong and he gets to this town in the middle of nowhere and, and—
Breathe Suguru, you must keep it together. We don’t want some concerned citizen calling the cops for a crying kid.
He wipes his face hastily and sits up. Glancing around nervously but the only other occupant in his train car is a drunk, passed-out salary man.
It’s alright, all your fears will be a distant memory in a few short hours. How about you try to get some sleep? I’ll wake you when we get there.
For once Suguru is too tired to argue, he shuts his eyes and lets the gentle swaying of the train lull him to sleep.
_______________
While this town is in the middle of nowhere, it is definitely not your typical small town. It’s obnoxiously beautiful and unnecessarily opulent. Suguru feels out of place the second he steps off the train.
First things first, we’ll need to find a place to stay. The money we took from your parents won’t last forever. We’ll need to steal a few things to make our way.
Our parents, Suguru corrects on reflex before catching up with the rest of what Getou has just said, Wait steal? I’ve never stolen a thing in my life! I’m..I’m a good kid! I don’t do stuff like that, it’s wrong!!
Getou chuckles.
You weren’t complaining when we stole that money from your parents safe.
That was a one time thing, I’ll get a job, Suguru thinks loudly, You know, that thing that contributing members of society have?
What a mundane and monkey-ish way of thinking.
Suguru fumes silently and responds, Well too bad, I’m in charge so we’re going to do things my way.
We’ll see.
Yes, we will see, well no wait, you will see—you’ll see me not doing what you think you’ll see but you won’t see!
Eloquent.
Fuck you!
Finding a place to stay is harder than he expected. The hotels are far too expensive for Suguru’s meager funds and any place that short term rents laughs his twelve year-old ass out the door.
He sighs from his place on the curb, just sent packing by a little old lady who was renting out the basically unlivable, crawl space above her cafe. If he couldn’t even get a place like that, what the hell is he supposed to do.
:W ah, wa h , m omm y I don t w ant t hat one . W hy don ’t you l ove me:
Suguru glares at the minor curse. Extending his arm, like Getou taught him, and concentrating on crushing the thing into a little ball. He smirks as it condenses easily enough and he rolls the orb between his fingers before swallowing it whole.
“Huh, that’s a pretty useful innate ability.”
Suguru snaps his neck around, nearly choking, and stares at the same little, old lady who just refused him room and board not two minutes ago. “You…” He coughs a few times and beats his fist against his chest until the curse settles, “You saw that?”
The lady raises an eyebrow, “Sure kid, this town is full of low level sorcerers. You’re not low level, though, are ya?…not with a gift like that.”
Suguru feels his cheeks warm as an unknown feeling (pride?) swells in his chest at the compliment. The old woman taps her chin and she looks at him thoughtfully, “Tell you what kid, I’ll let you stay upstairs and in exchange you keep these pests out of my shop. We’ve got a big festival coming up in a few weeks and my shop will be very popular if you can keep those curses out. Think you can do that?”
Suguru jumps to his feet, happy beyond belief, “Yes, yes I can definitely do that!”
The old lady smirks at him, wrinkles creasing her entire face, “Alright, follow me, let’s get you settled.”
There’s no furniture, no bed, in the small attic space, but the old woman—Ms. Yuki—is kind enough to provide Suguru with an old futon and some blankets. Later that night he reclines back on the lumpy mattress, smiling up at the ceiling, vindication coursing through him.
I can’t believe it, this entire time…It’s real, it’s all real.
Marvelous, isn’t it?
Suguru’s smile broadens, I figured you’d be more gloaty, no ‘I-told-you-so’s?
I’m happy for you. I remember this feeling, it’s one of my happiest memories; the realization that I’m not alone in this world.
Suguru’s smile softens, Yeah its pretty amazing. And it really is. Suguru doesn’t think he’s ever felt this secure and confident of his place in the world. He sniffles and Getou is kind enough not to mention the tears running down his cheeks.
—————-
The weeks pass. He eats up all the minor and more moderate curses that dare come near the shop and for his efforts business is booming. All the non-sorcerers flock to the shop, loving the ‘vibe’ of the place. The little cafe also gets rave reviews, people swearing by the stress relieving qualities of the tea, none of them the wiser that Suguru swallows down any curses clinging to their backs.
Zen Cafe quickly becomes a tourist hot spot in the month that Suguru’s been there and Ms. Yuki is so pleased with Suguru’s work she lets him eat whatever he wants for free. He takes care not to abuse this gift but he can’t help but rejoice when he doesn’t have to resort to any of Getou’s underhanded suggestions just to eat.
You’re going to get fat if all you eat is scones and cake. There’s no nutrients in this stuff either, you’ll never grow even a single inch on this type of diet.
Suguru rolls his eyes, biting more aggressively into the eclair he’s eating, and ignores Getou’s patronizing remarks. He watches the people walking by outside the cafe, trying to tell the sorcerers from the non-sorcerers. With the festival and tournament happening this weekend there are a lot more sorcerers in town than usual.
By his request, Ms. Yuki has introduced him to some of the other sorcerers that live in town. While he was happy to meet them, none of them are quite like him. They can all see and hear curses but none of them have innate abilities.
That’s why Suguru is excitedly watching the tourists like a hawk, the sorcerers coming for the tournament are all people with innate abilities. Suguru’s still trying to figure out how he can attend, as a spectator of course, but there’s no way he’ll be able to afford a ticket without—
An arrogant voice cuts through his thoughts, “I said, get me a fresh one you withering old hag.” Suguru turns, immediately spotting the owner of this voice. He’s a tall man, broadly built with an obnoxious sneer on his face. “I was told this place was the best, but I have been sorely disappointed from the moment I stepped in here.”
Ms. Yuki fumbles with the pastry she was wrapping up, “I-I’m so sorry, sir, the freshest batch will be finished in just a few minutes if you wouldn’t mind waiting—”
“Waiting?” The toad laughs callously, “Do you know who I am? Saruhiko Naruhara.” Ms. Yuki stiffens, “Ah so you do know me. So you must also know which clan I hail from and will be representing in this year’s tournament?”
Ms. Yuki stutters a response that Suguru can't hear but has the awful man laughing and snatching the bagged pastry out of her hand, “Exactly and you want me to wait?”
He turns and starts to make his way towards the exit. Suguru stands up and quickly steps in front of him to cut him off. “You need to pay for that.”
“Suguru.” Ms. Yuki says fearfully from behind the counter, “It’s alright. We are happy to accommodate any request Mr. Naruhara makes.”
Naruhara scoffs down at Suguru before shoving him out of the way, “That’s right Suguru, know your place.”
Suguru watches him leave with a glare. “Suguru,” Ms. Yuki calls, he turns and she gestures for him to come over. Once he’s behind the counter, Ms. Yuki puts both of her hands on his shoulders and looks him dead in the eye, “Don’t do anything stupid, boy, men like that are out of your league. Maybe in a few years you’ll be on his level but without proper training he’d obliterate you in a second.”
Suguru winces, his pride stinging, “Now, now don’t make that face,” She says, patting his cheek, “The clan he’s from is just awful. Full of power-hungry, rich old bastards that you shouldn’t concern yourself with, alright?”
He nods, and says, "Yes mam," dutifully.
“There’s a good lad, how about you take the rest of the day off? They’ll be lighting the lanterns soon, it’s going to be stunning!”
Suguru nods again, a plan forming in his head. He’s quick to grab his empty backpack and slip out the back door.
I like where this is headed.
Not going to talk me out of it?
Definitely not. You’re finally doing something interesting.
Suguru grins, those tournament tickets are pretty expensive. If these bastards are as rich as Ms. Yuki says, they won’t miss anything. His face splits into a grin as Getou laughs.
They find their target easily enough, the jackass swaggering down the street like he owns the entire block.
I wonder which clan he belongs to, my money’s on Zen’in.
I don’t know who that is.
Jokes on them, since they’re not in clan territory there won’t be any barriers to get in our way. Plus with all the sorcerers in town no ones going to notice your cursed energy, underdeveloped as it is.
Hey! You said I was improving!
And you are, just compared to the beasts birthed in the clans, you don’t exactly stand out, energy-wise at least.
Gee thanks.
It’s a good thing! Believe me, you’ll ache for these days once you’re a special grade.
I’ll take your word for it—Look! He’s turning up a drive!
Naruhara turns up one of the winding dirt roads that leads to one of the few estates that are present around the town.
Go around the back, these places always have expansive properties.
He does has Getou instructs, picking his way through the woods until he can circle around the five-story mansion and sneak into the backyard. There are flags hanging everywhere, probably clan symbols, he gets a good look at one as he gets closer to the house—looks like, some clouds or something, he tilts his head to the left, oh wait! maybe a tree—
Stop.
Suguru blinks and freezes on instinct at Getou’s harsh tone. He sounds almost…scared? What is it? What’s wrong?
We need to go back. Right now Suguru, I’m not joking.
Ok…but why?
Do as I say. We aren’t—I’m not—Just get out of here, Suguru!
But we’ve already come this far!
This clan is incredibly powerful, we shouldn’t mess with them.
Uh-huh, why do I smell bullshit? The entire time we were tailing Naruhara you were talking some serious shit and now you just want to leave?
Suguru.
Don’t ‘Suguru’ me! We’re doing this! So either help or don’t distract me!
There’s an open window on the top floor, he eyes the drain pipe dubiously, he’s a pretty good climber and he’s not that big. The thing could probably hold his weight.
No, that is a terrible idea.
He hears Getou sigh and he rolls his eyes, Well I’m open to suggestions…
Fine. But be silent and be quick and for the love of god Do. Not. Be. Seen.
Alright, alright, so what’s the plan.
See that pergola over there? That’s how we’re getting in. Your fat ass would have ripped the drain pipe clear off the house.
Suguru’s eye twitches, shut the hell up. Nevertheless, he follows Getou’s instructions. The pergola is effortless to climb, and he easily makes his way up to the open window. He peeks through and, when he sees nothing but an empty study, he slips inside.
Suguru whistles quietly, impressed by all the valuable shit in this room. Rich people are so stupid. He unzips his bag and quickly starts to throw stuff in; a jade elephant, a very shiny and expensive looking dish, and there’s this gold dagger with a jewel encrusted handle that looks sweet as hell so that also gets put in his backpack.
Okay that’s more than enough, let’s go.
What seriously? Will you lighten up? This is just the first room and I have so much more space in my bag!
Suguru it is time to leave. Now. You've picked a really shitty time to start being a klepto.
Geez what crawled up your ass? He makes his way over to the door and cracks it open, he peeks out and sees an empty hallway lined with doors. He smirks and slips through the door.
Suguru, please. We should go.
In a minute!
One of the doors is cracked, when he looks in he sees an empty bedroom and he quietly sneaks inside. Things are thrown haphazardly around the room, like someone packed up in a hurry and left half their stuff behind.
He pokes through the clothes on the ground with the tip of his shoe, raising his eyebrows when he sees bloodstains on them.
He leaves the clothes behind after he notices a small cupboard near the head of the bed and when he opens it an unfilled crawl space is revealed.
We really need to leave.
Would you relax already, no one’s— Of course that’s the moment he hears foot steps and voices coming down the hall.
Into the cupboard!
He’s quick to comply. He barely just closes the small door when two maids enter the room, talking quietly. “—will not be pleased that his last sparring partner has quit already. That must be a new record for him, not even two hours!”
He hears the sound of the maids stripping the bed, “That boy is a monster. Carved from ice, not a single drop of blood running through his veins, I swear. When he looks at me, I feel like my heart may actually stop! How can someone so young already be so terrifying? Oh god, and the scent of him!” The first maid retches theatrically. “It’s just not natural!”
Suguru hears the second maid shushing the first but she’s ignored as the first maid keeps barreling on, “His father doesn’t even know what to do with him—just keeps throwing these instructors at him likes lambs to the slaughter!”
Suguru. We really need to go now, this is not a game.
Fine, fine, I’m going! He turns and begins to crawl through the narrow space, being sure to stay on the wood beams so he doesn’t fall through the fiberglass insulation.
He crawls for a solid five minutes, the maids’ conversation fading away as he gets out of earshot. His knees begin to smart before he thinks to ask, What exactly is the plan here, do I just keep crawling until I reach the other side? What if there’s no door or anything to get out thro—
Suguru is pulled through the ceiling. There is no other way to describe it, one moment he is crawling across a skinny wooden beam, and the next, something’s got ahold of him and he’s falling through layers of pink insulation. He shuts his eyes, waiting for the inevitable crash and pain of hitting the ground…but it never comes.
He opens his eyes, “Woah…!” He whispers, awestruck, as he (and a fuckton of ceiling material) floats several inches from the ground.
“Uh oh, looks like this house has a rat problem.” Suguru snaps his head up from where he had been staring at the ground and meets the bluest, coldest eyes he’s ever seen. His nose twitches, it smells like lightening in this room.
Satoru…
Suguru's eyes widen at Getou’s whispered remark, Holy shit, this is Satoru? THE Satoru?? He laughs awkwardly and tries not to panic, “Uhhh, hey man, w-what’s up?”
He's suddenly rising quickly through the air, the swooping feeling of butterflies tickling his stomach, and he laughs again but this time its genuine.
He stops directly below the hole he dropped out of, floating weightlessly.
“Hmm, that would be you.” The kid says, voice flat, frigid, and far too serious for someone who just cracked a joke.
Suguru laughs anyway, grinning down at the bored looking preteen. “Good one. Mind letting me down?”
Suguru slowly descends through the air, as he goes down he spreads out his arms and runs his fingers through the floating plaster, completely in awe. He’s set gently on his feet and he feels this boy’s power leave him, the rest of the ceiling bits falling quietly to the floor around him.
“That is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!” Suguru gushes and quickly approaches the other boy, “Can you fly?”
Satoru’s eyes narrow thoughtfully, but at least the bored look from earlier is gone. He circles Suguru, eying his ripped clothes and bedraggled appearance. “Are you one of those homeless, street kids I’ve heard about? Judging by the contents of your bag, you’re definitely some sort of thief.”
Suguru’s spine stiffens, hand going belatedly to his shoulder and finding his bag gone. He looks around but doesn’t see it anywhere on the floor but when he turns back to Satoru he finds it dangling from the preteen’s pointer finger, a knowing smirk on his face.
Suguru awkwardly scratches the back of his head, “Err, yeah…sorry about that. Us homeless kids gotta eat, ya know?” He shrugs, helplessly.
Satoru’s smirk widens until he's baring his teeth in a full blown grin. It’s a very feral expression. The hair on the back of Suguru’s neck stands on end as the smell of ozone thickens in the air.
“It’s no big deal~” He replies, disconcertingly careless. He tosses the bag back to Suguru, the added weight making it thump painfully against the brunette’s chest. Satoru’s weird grin doesn’t so much as twitch as he leans right into Suguru’s face, “I don’t care about any of this stuff, but you should still make it up to me~”
What ever he’s about to ask you to do, refuse.
Suguru jumps, Getou’s voice scaring the shit out of him. Where the fuck have you been!?
Suguru, I’m serious. That look on his face is not a good one. And he doesn’t care about you yet, whatever he’s going to have you do will probably get you killed.
S-seriously? This is your best friend?? What kind of person—
“Oi,” fingers snap in front of his eyes, “Don’t ignore me, kid.” Satoru pouts.
Suguru swats the hand out of his face, immediately annoyed, “You’re just a kid! And a pretty rude one at that! Don’t call me a kid, I bet I’m older than you.”
“Oh yeeeah? When’s your birthday?”
Suguru almost drops his bag as he crosses his arms over his chest, “Psh, yeah right, like I’m gonna tell you. If I tell you my birthday first, when you tell me your’s you’ll just tell me a date that’s earlier so you can say that you’re older! You think I’d fall for that lame trick? As if, dumbass.”
Satoru lets out a surprised laugh, harsh expression gentling, “You can’t talk to me like that,” He shakes his head in amusement-tinged disbelief, white hair swishing enchantingly around his head, “No one can talk to me like that. I mean, you must know which clan’s house you’re in, right?”
Suguru’s cheeks turn pink, “Of course I know! And I don’t care what clan you belong to, If you act like a dumbass, I’m going to say you’re a dumbass!”
Satoru’s grin gentles even more, becoming more natural as it turns lopsided, “Oh yeah? What’s my clan’s name then?”
Quick Getou, what the fuck is his clan’s name!? For all the times Getou has whined about his friend its always ‘Satoru this and Satoru that,’ Suguru doesn’t remember him mentioning what his clan name is at all!
When no response is forthcoming and Satoru’s eyebrows start to rise, Suguru yells in his head, completely beseeching, Come on Getou, please! He’s going to think I’m an idiot!
………..no
Asshole!
“Oh my god.” Satoru says, pretty eyes wide in incredulity and a small, reluctantly entertained smile on his face, “You are so stupid. What’s your name?”
Suguru’s arms tighten defensively across his chest and his eyes cut to the side, no longer able to look at the obnoxious expression on this kid’s face. He turns his nose up in the air and responds haughtily, “It’s polite to first offer your name before demanding other’s, you know.”
Satoru’s grin widens, eyes practically dancing with mirth, “Oh?~ but you already know my name, right? That’s what you said~ So, what would be polite is for you to now tell me your name, especially since you are attempting to rob~ me~ ♥” The new teasing lilt of this kid's voice is the most annoying thing Suguru's heard in his short life.
Suguru doesn’t think his face has ever been this red, overcome in a fit of embarrassed rage he hurls his backpack at Satoru’s chest, “Here, take your shit back! I don’t want it anymore!” He points up to his hole in the ceiling, “Just--just give me a lift and I’ll get the fuck out of here.”
Satoru blinks blue, blue eyes at him, clutching Suguru’s backpack to his chest. His eyes glance between Suguru, the hole in the ceiling, and then back to Suguru (who is still pointing straight up). A few moments of dead silence pass before the white-haired preteen bends at the waist and starts laughing uncontrollably.
Suguru stares at him, wide eyed, before clenching his fists at his sides, and yelling, “Shut up! Stop laughing!” When all that does is make Satoru laugh harder, Suguru spins on his heel and stomps his way over to one of the opulent windows.
He throws it open and sticks his head out, its not that far of a drop, he could definitely make it without injuring himself too badly, and he’s about to throw one of his legs over the sill when a body collides with his own, another's arms squeezing tightly around his waist.
“No, don’t go!” The voice behind him is still breathy with laughter, “This is the most fun I’ve had in forever! Please…please don’t go.”
Suguru stiffens, thrown by the sudden sincerity coming from this boy. He turns his neck as far back has he can but can only make out a fluffy white head since Satoru has pressed his face into the back of his shoulder.
Suguru’s mouth opens to refuse when Getou cuts in,
He’s a very lonely boy. And he stays all alone until he meets us at school.
His mouth snaps closed soundlessly, Goddamnit, he thinks before he finally responds with a hesitant, “A-Alright."
The arms around him constrict crushingly one last time before slowly releasing so Suguru can turn around.
Satoru’s cheeks are dusted pink, eyes cut to the side as he says, “Satoru, my name’s Satoru.” The terrifying smell of an inevitable lightening strike fades, mellowing out into the pleasing aroma of petrichor.
A smile slowly creeps onto Suguru’s face, he waits until Satoru finally looks at him before he offers, “I’m Suguru.”
“Suguru.” Satoru repeats his name like a prayer before grabbing his hand, pulling him further back into the room, “Suguru~♥ ” he says again, just to say it, dragging the brunette along, “Wanna see something cool?”