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October began the same way September ended.
Satoru Gojo was stuck in a monotonous cycle of class, missions, and training. Filling in the blanks with hiding away in his room under the covers. The only indicator to him that time was indeed passing was the calendar in Yaga's office, which had flipped to the month of October. Sweltering heat transitioned to crisp coolness, and time moved on, dragging Satoru along no matter how unwilling.
Suguru left a couple of weeks ago, when the leaves were just beginning to color at the edges. Satoru thought that maybe if he could stay in September 2007, he could cling to the last remnants Suguru left behind. A new month arrived, and soon a new year would too. But Satoru felt trapped in September, all thirty days boxed him in. Not wanting to experience his first month without Suguru there.
At the same time, Satoru did his best to avoid anything that would remind him of Suguru. Anything Suguru had given him had been squeezed into a cardboard box and shoved under his bed, out of sight. The topic of Suguru was rarely brought up between him and others. He regularly took longer routes back to Jujutsu Tech from missions so he could avoid one particular street. Omoide Yokocho—Memory Lane. A cruel coincidence since that was where Suguru turned his back on him one final time.
Suguru's dorm remained sealed. The door locked, and all his possessions were inside. Like a mausoleum, the final resting place of the Suguru he once knew. Their dorms were side by side, and Satoru kept his eyes forward as he passed it.
If he didn't acknowledge that Suguru was once a part of him, perhaps it would get easier. Maybe if he let more months pass by, the wound in his chest would gradually begin to close. That was Satoru's plan until Yaga called him into his office on a cool autumn morning.
"Sit," Yaga ordered when Satoru shuffled into his office.
Satoru grabbed the chair in front of Yaga's desk and slouched in it. Stretching his long legs out in front of him. Ready to receive an earful for something he did or another mission assignment. He waited for Yaga to continue speaking. On top of isolating himself, Satoru had found that he didn't have much to say either.
"I need you to wait and listen to everything I say before you react," Yaga continued, and Satoru braced himself. An opener like that could only mean one topic that was about to come up.
"Let's hear it," he said, ready for the unavoidable.
Yaga cleared his throat and paused for a moment, like he didn't want to be having this conversation either. But every second that passed just made Satoru feel more on edge.
"Suguru Geto's dorm room needs to be cleaned out."
Satoru shrugged. "So clean it."
"Satoru," Yaga said sternly. Some kind of reprimand hung in the air between them, but it didn't come. Yaga had been very delicate about the situation since it happened, but Satoru was still a teenager and still had all the attitude that came with it.
"I don't know why you're bothering to tell me this."
Yaga breathed deeply. "Typically, when we lose students, for whatever reason." The unspoken reasons of quitting, defection, and death were heavily implied. "We either contact the family to retrieve their personal items, or we trash everything. Since Suguru doesn't have a family to contact…"
Satoru didn't want to hear anymore. "You called me in here to let me know that you're going to throw all his shit in the garbage. Thanks."
"Language." Yaga pinched the bridge of his nose before muttering an ironic "God damnit" under his breath.
"So we're done here?" Satoru stood up.
Yaga dropped his hand from his face. "I'm offering you the opportunity to go through his belongings and see if there is anything you'd like to keep before I let the school do what it needs to do."
Satoru was still, his brain whirring. The wound in his chest was so open and raw that the mention of Suguru, the thought of opening his dorm room, made it bleed. Any sort of scab that was there was picked clean off.
"No thanks," Satoru said, his voice even. Afraid that if he said anything more that he wouldn't be able to contain the festering of his wound.
"Okay, you don't have to do anything, but you can at least take a look around just to be sure."
"No thanks," Satoru repeated.
Yaga didn't have a whole lot of patience before Satoru, but after three years of dealing with him, he had gotten used to his stubbornness and defiant personality. Something Satoru would be forever grateful for when he was older, but as an eighteen-year-old, all he could think of was that this man was wasting his time.
"I promise if you don't at least look, you're going to wish you did one day," Yaga said in the softest tone he had ever used with Satoru.
Something about it had a disarming effect on Satoru. Or perhaps Satoru was so beaten down by the past month that he didn't have much fight left in him. He nodded, and Yaga opened his drawer and pulled out a key. Placing it on the surface of his desk for Satoru to grab.
"I suggest starting it today," Yaga added when Satoru's fingers touched the key. "This is time sensitive."
"Yeah, yeah." Satoru waved him off. "Are we done here?"
"Thankfully, we are," Yaga said and gestured towards his door.
It felt like a punishment. Each step Satoru took down the hall was another step closer to serving his sentence. The door next to his was no longer something he could ignore. It crossed his mind to retreat into his own room or, better yet, escape the school grounds altogether. But he found himself in front of Suguru's room, the key slotting in easily.
The air inside was a little stale, and a thin layer of dust began to form on a few of the surfaces. As Satoru slid the door open, he half expected a Suguru-like specter to jump out at him for disturbing his mausoleum. The room was still and dark until Satoru flipped on the light switch. An unsettling familiarity sank in as Satoru glanced around the room. A place he spent so much time in at one point, but now he felt like an intruder.
Everything was left as though Suguru was going to return from his mission. His homework on the desk, a textbook still open to the page he was reading from. A laundry basket in the corner with folded clothes, ready to be put away. The clothes he had changed out of before putting on his Jujutsu uniform for the mission still laid out on his neatly made bed. Nothing about the room gave away that the owner had any plans to not come back.
Suguru was a neat person and it heavily contrasted with how Satoru kept his room. Which Satoru would tease him for, but now he saw how helpful it could be when he needed to look through things. Satoru briefly glanced around the room, taking stock of what was already visible. Not quite sure what he would even bother taking. Would one of Suguru's shirts be too intimate, or would only taking his video game system seem too shallow?
Satoru sat on the bed, the covers stiff from not being used. He resisted the urge to lie down in it, bury his face in Suguru's pillow, and try to see if he could smell any lingering scent of Suguru's soap. Being in his room was just as heavy as Satoru thought it would be.
There was a bulletin board above Suguru's desk where he pinned various things on it. A calendar that was still open to September hung from a red thumbtack. Suguru crossed out the days that had passed with a red marker. Every day leading up to September 12th had a giant X. He had pictures up there too. Photos with curled edges and were faded a little from the sun. Candid shots of Shoko, Nanami, Haibara, himself, and Suguru. Photo booth pictures of Satoru and Suguru squished together. There were more pictures of Satoru on the board than of anyone else.
Also tacked up were a variety of movie and concert tickets. Satoru usually crumpled his up once he no longer needed it, but Suguru always placed his carefully in his wallet. Looking at the collection now, Satoru could remember each one that he went to with Suguru. Suguru had always been the more sentimental of the two of them.
Displayed on the nightstand were Suguru's arcade prizes. He had a natural affinity for crane games, and even though he didn't particularly care for plushies, they always stopped at least one crane game to try it out. Little keychains and figures he won from gacha games were lined up neatly. They hadn't been to one in forever. Not since Haibara passed.
Satoru opened drawers and sifted through Suguru's closet. He looked under the bed and turned things over. The middle drawer of Suguru's desk had a bunch of folded papers inside, the ones towards the bottom were stiff and crinkled with age already. His and Satoru's handwriting scrawled all over them. Suguru's neat, orderly handwriting and Satoru's crooked chicken scratch. Inside jokes, inappropriate comments, and random questions were strewn all over the pages. Passed back and forth underneath Yaga's nose.
He took the stack out and flipped through it. These were the hardest items to look at. Most of the stuff in Suguru's room was just stuff at the end of the day. But his actual handwriting and his pictures on the wall, those were evidence that he was there.
This lesson is boring!!!
What's the answer to number 3?
Where's Shoko?
*crude drawing of a penis*
Wanna meet on the roof tonight?
Satoru was going to need a couple of boxes.
2006
Satoru was an imposter.
He had never been to a concert before, and this wasn't the type of music he usually liked to listen to in the first place. But it was Suguru's favorite band, and they happened to be playing in Tokyo on a night when neither of them had missions or schoolwork to do. Suguru was going to go with or without Satoru, and Satoru didn't want to be left behind at the dorms. So there he was, standing on the sidewalk outside the venue, looking like he didn't belong there.
He was wearing one of Suguru's shirts after attempting to go out wearing one of his button-downs. Suguru told him that he needed to wear something else for a heavy metal concert and handed him a shirt with a band he had never heard of on it. Even though Satoru was dressed similarly to Suguru, he felt like people could tell anyway that he didn't belong.
But he was with Suguru, and Satoru never really cared about what other people thought of him anyway.
The concert itself was overstimulating. Completely dark except for the flashing show lights above the stage. The music was so loud he could feel it deep within his skull. The stench of cigarettes filled his lungs. Sweaty bodies pushed and shoved around him, and he clung to Suguru so he wouldn't lose him. His shoulders, his arms, any part of him that he could fumble for in the dark.
Not really Satoru's first choice for a fun activity. But Suguru looked like he was having fun. His head bobbed to the music, cheering whenever the singer screamed something into the mic. Sweat had his bangs sticking to his forehead, a shine on his skin every time the spotlight swept over them. He was fixated on the stage while Satoru was focused on him.
They found a reprieve of the deafening music for a moment when they went to the bathroom together. Graffiti on the stalls, a dim light overhead, and a foggy mirror.
"We should've taken a picture earlier," Suguru said, taking out his phone and holding it up in the mirror. Satoru was just as sweaty as he was, his hair sticking up at odd angles. His sunglasses were pushed up into his hair and not doing him any favors either.
Satoru threw his arm around Suguru's shoulders and threw up a peace sign. "Eh, not like you were any better looking an hour ago."
"Fuck off," Suguru replied, but there was no malice in his tone. He had long since gotten used to Satoru's jabbing.
Suguru snapped a picture and then held up close to his face to examine it in the low light. Satoru still had his arm wrapped around Suguru's shoulder, resting his head against him so he could get a good look at it too. The picture was terrible. Blurry, out of focus, and they both looked like shit.
"See, I'm still better looking than you," Satoru teased, which earned him a light shove in the ribs.
They returned to the crowd, the band playing their last few songs. One of them must have been a fan favorite since the audience erupted in more cheers when the beginning notes were played. Satoru's entire body ached from standing on the concrete floor, from his feet to his neck. His ears were ringing from the volume of the music. But a surge of elation flowed through him, and his heart felt as though it was beating in his chest like the drums on the stage. He liked being there with Suguru.
When it was over, Satoru's head felt empty as they stepped out of the venue. His ears were finally getting a break after hours of abuse. He blinked a few times, getting used to the change in scenery. The beginning of a headache was forming in his temples, his sensitive eyes overstrained from all the overwhelming lights in there.
He was about to walk ahead towards the train when Suguru pulled off to the side. Pulling out a cigarette, he placed it between his lips and took out an orange lighter.
"Where did you get that?" Satoru asked.
"Stole it from Shoko," he said, his words a little muffled around the cigarette.
"I didn't know you smoked." Satoru didn't like not knowing something about Suguru.
"It's my first one," he said. The end glowed cherry red, and he sucked in the smoke, almost immediately coughing it back up.
Suguru sputtered, holding the cigarette off to the side as bits of ash flaked off of it. Behind them, there were a lot of people standing around smoking and after Suguru was able to get his coughing fit under control, Satoru noticed him glance over his shoulder back at them before putting the cigarette back into his mouth. Inhaling slower this time, holding the smoke in his lungs for a second, before blowing it out in a steady stream.
Satoru wrinkled his nose.
"You want to try it?" Suguru asked, holding it out to him.
"No way, that stinks," Satoru said, and pulled the collar of his shirt up over his nose to make a point.
Suguru rolled his eyes. "You're ridiculous."
Satoru shrugged. "I don't care."
Suguru brought the cigarette back up to his lips, and Satoru thought he gave the impression of someone trying to be included where they didn't belong. Like Satoru wearing Suguru's shirt to a concert he didn't know anything about. Suguru was smoking his first cigarette alongside all the other fans of his favorite band. They were two boys trying to fit in somewhere.
But that's why Satoru liked Suguru so much, because no matter where they went or what they were doing or how out of place Satoru looked, he fit in with Suguru.
Suguru let the cigarette hang from his mouth this time, and Satoru couldn't help but watch his lips wrap around the end of it. The slight flash of tongue when he inhaled a bit more smoke. Pulling it away and holding it between two fingers while he pursed his lips to blow the smoke out.
"Actually, let me try it," Satoru said, holding his hand out and letting his shirt slip back into place.
Suguru raised an eyebrow but held the cigarette for him. "If you say so."
He brought the end up to his lips. The spot that had been touching Suguru's lips. Satoru made the same mistake Suguru did and sucked in the smoke too fast. It burned his throat and made his chest feel tight. The bitter, earthy taste of tobacco lingered on his tongue. He coughed so hard he nearly dropped the cigarette.
"That sucks," he managed to say between coughs.
"I knew you weren't going to like it," Suguru said, snatching the cigarette back. There was barely anything left to it now.
"Then why did you offer it?"
Suguru shrugged, a slight, amused smile on his lips as he smoked the last bit of the cigarette. Holding it for a second longer than before, savoring the taste and the feel of it, and then letting it escape from his mouth. "I wanted to see if you'd do it."
"Funny," Satoru said, digging his hands into his pockets. The longer they stood out there, the more the night chill began to settle in.
His fingers brushed against the sharp edge of his concert ticket. He pulled it out and gave it a quick once over before crumpling it and tossing it in the nearby trash while Suguru put the cigarette out in the ashtray.
"You don't want to keep the ticket to your first concert?" Suguru asked.
"Nah, it's just trash."
Suguru pulled out his wallet and showed Satoru his own ticket, neatly tucked inside. "I always keep mine."
"You keep trash in your room?"
"You're so obtuse," Suguru said, snapping his wallet shut. "It's not trash, it's a memento. So you can remember the event."
Satoru playfully knocked on the side of his head. "My memory is like a steel trap."
Satoru's time with Suguru felt infinite. He saw him every day, and they did nearly everything together. It was unthinkable to him that it would be any different one day. What was the worth of a memory keepsake of one concert when Satoru expected to attend several more with him? Satoru never lingered on the day before, always looking forward to the next one.
Suguru was the opposite. Everything meant a little more to him, worth saving. Satoru noticed him keeping their movie and event tickets from other times. Saved letters his mother wrote him and probably had a stack of notes he passed to their peers. Took pictures any time he remembered, which made Satoru groan and moan at first, but now he was so used to it, he even suggested it sometimes.
The next time Satoru was in Suguru's room, lounging on his bed while Suguru worked on his homework at his desk, he noticed the concert ticket pinned to the bulletin board. The black ink smeared in one spot where the heat of Suguru's hand rubbed it off. And the memory of bitter tobacco on his tongue and Suguru's mouth came flooding back.
October
Satoru could sense Shoko's cursed energy behind him before she even spoke.
She was leaning in the doorway, his back to her as he piled books into a box. There was a strained tension between the two of them. He saw her in class, but they rarely spoke about anything beyond basic pleasantries. A massive Suguru-sized hole was left between them, and Satoru realized how much Suguru filled in the gap when it came to him and Shoko.
It did occur to him that out of everyone at school, the one who could relate to him the most now was her. Shoko loved Suguru too. Even though she put on a front for others, Satoru noticed that when she didn't think anyone was paying attention that her gaze seemed far away. Unfortunately, he and Shoko both had about the same level of emotional availability. None.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" Satoru asked, turning his head slightly so he could look at Shoko from the corner of his eye.
"Can't complain," she said, and took his acknowledgment as an invitation. Stepping inside the room and looking around.
It was a mess now, and Satoru tore apart Suguru's neat order of everything. What started as something Satoru did to appease Yaga and he'd only planned to spend an afternoon on, turned into a multiple-day affair when he decided he wanted to clean the whole room. It was taking longer than it would've taken whoever Yaga would've hired to throw everything out because Satoru kept getting distracted. Meticulously going through every item he came across.
Shoko wandered near Suguru's closet, running a finger through the clothes hanging there.
"Do you want help?" she asked, not looking at him.
Satoru paused, resting a book on his lap. "Not really."
He almost liked the task. A couple of hours each day spent organizing. Alone time where he could turn his brain off for a period of time. Something different than his usual cycle of missions, class, and training. If he had help, the task would go by quicker. He wouldn't have this semblance of a routine to cling to that was getting him through October.
But as he watched Shoko pull hangers out of the closet to examine the clothes hanging from them, he realized Shoko wasn't offering because she had a newfound passion for cleaning or out of the goodness of her heart. She was lonely. And Satoru didn't know how to help her.
She held up a Gap sweatshirt, gray with red lettering and much too large for her. "Can I have this?"
"You can have pretty much whatever you want in here," Satoru said.
Shoko pulled the sweatshirt off the hanger, holding it in her hands. It was a sweatshirt that Suguru let her borrow all the time. Satoru wanted to say something. I miss him too. I love him too. But instead, he sat there in silence while Shoko looked around the room. Like she was trying to wait him out as long as she could, but eventually it got to the point where there wasn't anything left for her to look at, and she was just stalling.
"There's a new restaurant opening on Omoide Yokocho this Friday. They have sweets," she said. One last attempt at reaching out to him.
It pained Satoru to shoot her down. "I don't really want to go anywhere near that street for a while."
"Right." Shoko stood in the doorway, the sweatshirt hanging off her arm. He could see the exact moment a bit of pain got a hold of her heart and squeezed before Shoko put her indifferent mask back on. "See you around then."
"See you," Satoru said, and he felt terrible watching her leave.
2006
Suguru was unfairly good at crane games.
Satoru thought he might have been cheating. A little bit of projection on his part since there was more than one occasion where he used Blue to pull a prize into the drop chute. It wouldn't be hard for Suguru to summon small curses to do the same thing. These games were always rigged, but Suguru just so happened to always be playing when the game decided it was time to allow someone to win. Suspicious, but Satoru had watched him do it so many times, he had to eventually concede that Suguru was just naturally talented at crane games.
They were at an arcade in Shinjuku, a detour back to the school. Bright white fluorescent lights above, with the constant sound of game machines beeping and whirring, sucked the time away from them. Suguru kept glancing down at his watch.
"This is the last one," he said, dropping coins into the slot.
Satoru nearly had his nose pressed up against the glass. "Second to last one," he argued.
Suguru didn't take his eyes off the crane. "No, last one."
With the school in the outskirts of Tokyo, the two of them still had to catch a long train ride back. And if they missed the next one, they'd be back after dark. Satoru's theory of warp travel was still just a theory to him. The vague threat of Yaga scolding them was in the back of his mind as the lights inside the crane flashed between pink and blue, putting him in almost a trance-like state.
The crane dropped off to the side of the prize. Angled in a way that pushed down on it rather than trying to grasp it between the claws. Suguru mentioned that the cranes in these types of games were too weak to actually grab a hold of something, and it was better to use it to nudge or push the prize into the chute instead. The claw clipped the side of the box, where it teetered for a moment on the edge before falling over. Colored bulbs on the top of the machine lit up rapidly.
Suguru bent over and fished the box out of the machine. Some kind of anime figure. Satoru made a move to snatch it from him, but Suguru was too quick and held it out of his reach.
"Come on, I want to see," he protested.
"Win your own," Suguru said with a slight smile and tucked the figure under his arm.
"Okay, so one more?" Satoru grinned and hip checked Suguru out of the way.
The coins clanked together as Satoru shoved them into the slot, and the game came to life. He nudged the crane, trying to copy exactly what Suguru did. Slapping the button, the crane dropped, missing the prize by millimeters.
"Rigged," Satoru muttered on his breath.
"I think you're just bad," Suguru mused, admiring his winnings and not even watching Satoru's attempt.
Satoru glared at him, and when Suguru looked up, he merely shrugged with a smug smile.
Being bad at something when Satoru was naturally gifted at everything else was a thorn in his side. The upbeat music blaring from the machines felt like a taunt. Loser! Loser! Loser!
His self-pitying was cut short when Satoru's eyes locked on a new machine over Suguru's shoulder. Instead of plushies or anime figures, this was one that had boxes of sweets stacked up in a pyramid. The packaging was light pink and had little strawberries dancing all over it. Strawberry-flavored chocolates.
Satoru pushed past Suguru so he could get a closer look at the machine.
"Play this one next," he said, pointing at the sweets inside.
"You're giving orders now? I already said that was the last one. We have to go," Suguru said, walking up beside Satoru.
"Last one for real this time." Satoru let his sunglasses slip down the bridge of his nose so he could give Suguru what he thought was a convincing, pleading look. Unfortunately for Satoru, his blue eyes often unnerved people rather than endeared them to him.
"Use your own money," Suguru argued.
Satoru let out a frustrated noise. "I'm cut off this month."
"Cut off?"
"Yeah, I spent too much money last month. And I already went through this month's allowance."
Suguru stared at him for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed. "It's still the first week of the month."
"I'm having a hard time budgeting, okay?"
Several months in a row, Satoru spent a ludicrous amount of money since coming to Jujutsu Tech. Before, he had full access to the accounts and could spend whatever he wanted. But after last month, and one too many hot pot dinners, his family cracked down on him and only gave him an allowance paired with a lecture about fiscal responsibility and how he needed to learn some before he was clan head. Perhaps he had gone overboard, but there was also a part of him that knew deep down that it was really about control. Putting him in his place while they still could.
Either way, his wallet was hopelessly bare all the same.
"It's just chocolate, get it from the store. The machines with snacks are always a waste of time," Suguru said, not budging.
"These aren't in store, I already looked for them," Satoru argued, sounding a little too much like a spoiled prince to his own ears. He shut himself down. "Whatever, we have to leave."
Walking out of the arcade and into the open air was disorienting after being in there for hours. Satoru squeezed his eyes shut when he was met with the natural light. These places were always designed to feel like purgatory and to keep people inside for as long as possible.
They weren't late, but they did have to hurry some to the train station. Satoru had already bought a round-trip pass, so he didn't have to go through the awkwardness of asking Suguru to spot him. He came from one of the oldest and wealthiest families in Japan, but the allowance imposed upon him felt like his silver spoon was ripped from his hand.
"Your family is giving you an allowance now?" Suguru asked.
The two of them were both facing the tracks, more and more people lining up around them to wait for the train.
Satoru didn't look at him. "Yeah, it's stupid."
"Is it because of all those dinners?"
Satoru nodded. "Sure was."
There was a pause, like Suguru was thinking carefully about what he was going to say next. And it gave Satoru a sinking feeling because he's known Suguru long enough to be able to sense the guilt right away.
"If I knew that was going to be a problem, I wouldn't have let you pay for all those."
"Suguru," Satoru said, waving him off. "It's not a big deal. I wanted to pay for them."
"It sounds like you're in trouble now."
Satoru let out a light laugh and glanced at Suguru sideways. "I'm always in trouble with my family."
Suguru returned a smile, but it was half-hearted. It didn't reach his eyes, and it quickly dropped when the moment was over. An extended bit of silence stretched between them, and suddenly Satoru went from not wanting their time in Shinjuku to end to internally praying that the train arrive early.
Suguru shoved the figure box into Satoru's hands. "I forgot something."
"Huh?"
But Suguru didn't elaborate. He dropped his hands away, leaving Satoru standing there with his figure, and turned back towards the way they came.
"I'm getting on the train without you if you're late!" Satoru called. A lie. Satoru would be more than elated to purposefully miss the train and spend more time downtown, even if it meant an earful from Yaga.
"I'll make it!" Suguru called back over his shoulder.
He walked briskly, but then when he rounded the corner, Satoru could tell with his Six Eyes through the brick that Suguru had broken out into a run.
What was his deal?
Seconds ticked by. And then seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to Satoru impatiently tapping his foot against the concrete. More and more people gathered around, all waiting for the same train they were supposed to get on. The train wasn't in view yet, but Satoru could hear it thundering down the tracks, which meant Suguru's time was nearly up.
It sped past him as it came to a screeching stop. The calm, feminine voice that played over the loudspeaker announced the train's arrival and its next destination would be. People clambered onto the train while others pushed their way off. Satoru looked back where Suguru had disappeared and still didn't see him.
Seemed as though both of them were going to be getting back to school late.
Satoru was about to sit down on one of the benches to wait for him when he saw Suguru round the corner. Sprinting towards him, and then not even slowing down to jump onto the train.
"You coming?" he shouted.
Satoru grinned and hopped onto the train after him. The doors slid shut behind him, and with a jerk, the train began to move. Not a second to spare.
Suguru was breathing heavily. Hunched over to catch his breath for a moment. When he straightened up to grab a hold of one of the hanging handles, Satoru could see that his face was flushed from exertion and his hair was coming loose from its hair tie.
"Close one," Satoru said.
"Yeah," Suguru replied, gasping for air. He held up a light pink box with strawberries all over it. "Here."
Satoru excitedly grabbed the box from him, handing Suguru his figure back. "You went back for it?"
"You wanted it, didn't you?"
"Not enough to make you run for it." Satoru couldn't help but look down at the box of sweets in his hands, a swelling sensation filling his chest.
"Well, I felt bad. Just say thank you."
"Aw, you like me or something?" Satoru teased, enjoying the way Suguru's ears heated.
Suguru rolled his eyes. "I just didn't want to hear you complain about this the whole way home."
Satoru gave him a wicked look before throwing his arms around Suguru in a dramatic show. It pushed Suguru off-center, forcing him to hug Satoru back for stability.
"Oh, thank you, my hero," Satoru cooed. A few people around them gave them displeased looks. They were being extremely disruptive now.
Suguru shoved him. "Get off."
Satoru backed off from him. He shook the box in Suguru's face, making the chocolates inside rattle together. "I'll share with you."
"No, thanks," Suguru said, eyeing the box. "They look disgustingly sweet."
"I hope they are!"
Someone shushed them, and Satoru finally shut his mouth, the two of them falling into the polite silence that was expected on the train. Suguru wasn't looking at him, pretending to be interested in everything else around him. His cheeks were even redder than before.
But Satoru was merciless and didn't bother to tease him about it.
October
He was nearly finished.
The room looked unrecognizable now. Almost everything had been packed up and cleared out, save for the papers Suguru left in his desk and a few other miscellaneous items that had been strewn on the floor. Satoru had grabbed what he wanted to keep and stowed it away with the items he already had that reminded him of Suguru. The rest were either donated, thrown out, or Satoru asked other students if they wanted anything.
There weren't many other students left besides him and Shoko. Satoru always pictured himself being a senpai to a crowd of younger students. All of them would be brave, powerful, and just as fun to be around as Suguru and Shoko were. Nanami and Haibara were in line with what he expected, but after Haibara's death, Nanami had become more reserved. The core five of them used to go to dinner, go to the arcades, and explore the city.
It all came to an end after that one mission. The snowballing effect of one unfortunate event after another, all piling on top of each other until the foundation of their friendships crumbled under its weight.
Ijichi Kiyotaka wasn't the type of sorcerer Satoru had in mind when he envisioned his future kohais.
He was a first-year student and not impressive at all. More of a hazard than a sorcerer with any real potential. When Satoru watched the awkward boy try to summon any amount of control over cursed energy, all he saw was half of Haibara's body lying cold and still on a gurney. A dead boy walking.
Satoru told Ijichi as much. He didn't seem to take it very well—flinching and cowering any time Satoru walked his way. Suguru's voice in Satoru's head told him that he was too harsh and he needed to be more mindful of how he worded things. But the truth was the truth. Ijichi was more useless than shit.
Ijichi didn't even have time to run from him by the time Satoru snuck up behind him and dropped a box full of manga on the table he was eating lunch at. He jumped, nearly dropping his food in his lap. Almost knocked over the can of soda on the table. Clumsy and scared, but there was something about Ijichi that Satoru found amusing.
"You like manga, Ijichi?" Satoru asked, leaning on the box.
Ijichi looked at him uncertainly, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Sometimes."
"Here, look through these and see if you want any before I donate them. They used to belong to Suguru," Satoru said, shoving the box closer to Ijichi and sitting down in the seat across from him.
He was hesitant, maybe thinking Satoru was making a joke towards him at first. But then he stood up and rifled through the box, even picking some volumes out. Satoru reached for the soda can that Ijichi almost toppled over and stole a sip from it.
Melon flavored.
The sweet, fruity taste dispersed over his tongue. Ijichi eyed him for a moment but decided not to stop Satoru from stealing his soda. Ijichi might not be the ideal sorcerer, but he was all right. Smart, good head on his shoulders, responsible. While shut away in Suguru's room cleaning, Satoru came across so many things that reminded him of the fun times he had with his friends before that one mission. It made him ache for a time that he could goof off with a bunch of people, act like an actual teenager.
"Ijichi, you have good taste. I don't care what people say about you," Satoru said suddenly.
"Oh," Ijichi said, putting the volume he was holding down in a small pile. All good choices, in Satoru's opinion. "What are they saying—"
Satoru waved him off. "Doesn't matter. Let's hang out tomorrow. I'll pester Nanami to join us."
Nanami was a tough one to get a hold of. Especially since he had blocked Satoru's number after the first double text. But Satoru eventually cornered him in a classroom, and droned on about how Nanami needed to get out more—hypocritical of him—until Nanami conceded. It helped that Ijichi already agreed, or rather, had no choice but to agree.
October was slipping away, and Satoru needed to make a change.
2006
Wanna meet on the roof tonight?
Satoru folded the piece of paper up and kept his eyes trained on Yaga at the front of the class. Waiting until his teacher turned his back towards them before slipping the paper onto Suguru's desk. Suguru placed his hand over it but waited a beat to make sure Yaga wasn't going to turn around and opened it. He tilted his head towards Satoru and gave him a slight nod before going back to writing down his notes.
Near the dorms, there was an easy access point that let them get up on top of the roof. And that let them get to a flat area where the sides of the building were tall enough, it gave them some amount of coverage. They found it shortly after starting school and didn't tell anyone about it because they didn't want Yaga or anyone to order it to be fixed. A secret place that only Satoru and Suguru hung out at, letting them stay up past curfew
Excitement buzzed under the surface of Satoru's skin, and he could think of nothing else except the end of class. He'd been feeling that way more often at the prospect of being alone with Suguru. Even if it came with the possibility of another morality debate. The thrum of a challenge pulsing between them.
They had to wait until after dark. Close enough to curfew that they could still move around in the halls without getting in trouble and ruining their plan. But also close enough to curfew that most people would be in their own rooms by then, and they wouldn't be followed.
Satoru slid his door open as quietly as he could. Stepping out into the hall and closing it behind him. Suguru was already waiting for him. Leaning up against the wall, a white baggy shirt, and a pair of dark colored sweatpants. His hair was loose around his shoulders. The only time Suguru ever wore his hair down was in the evening before bed, contrasting with how put together he was during the day.
"You're late," Suguru whispered, a little too loud to truly be considered a hushed tone.
Satoru blinked, too busy following the way Suguru's hair framed his face. He couldn't help but notice Suguru more lately. Which felt like an odd realization because how could he not notice someone he spent nearly all his time with?
Suguru's face had become more angular. Shedding away boyish features for more masculine ones. His shoulders were broader than when they first began at Jujutsu Tech. Satoru couldn't let himself linger on the thoughts for too long. It always made his chest feel tight.
He shoved Suguru directly on the shoulder. Playful but still with enough force to knock Suguru off balance. "You're always early. You eager or something?"
Suguru shushed him. "You're so loud."
"It's fine." Satoru waved him off before leading the way. His hands were in his pockets, and his stride was easy. A boy without a care in the world.
They snuck out of the school and made it to the access point. Suguru squatted down and wrapped his arms around Satoru's thighs to boost him up enough that Satoru could grip the side of the ledge to pull himself up. He threw his arm over the edge to hoist Suguru up behind him, hoping that his palm wasn't too sweaty that Suguru wouldn't be able to get a good grip.
There was never a plan when they snuck out on the roof. Just enjoy each other's company until one or both of them were too tired to stay out any longer.
Satoru laid flat on his back, his arms outstretched at his sides like a starfish. He pushed his sunglasses up and stared up at the night sky. Small strokes of lingering orange and red sat on the horizon as the rest of the sky darkened. The school was far enough away from the city that the stars came out. Drips of silver winking at them from above.
Suguru was seated next to him, not looking at him or the sky. His arms were around his legs, staring off into the distance.
"You've been quiet," Satoru remarked.
That got Suguru to turn his head towards Satoru. "Yeah, well. Big day tomorrow."
"You nervous?" Satoru grinned.
Suguru pressed his lips together and tilted his head. The kind of skeptical look Satoru was used to receiving from Suguru. "You aren't?"
"Why would I be?"
"The Star Plasma Vessel. It's serious, Satoru."
"Yeah, yeah. You already told me about all that," he said, but Suguru didn't relax. And something about that disarmed Satoru. Nothing bad ever happened when it was the two of them. "What could go wrong?"
Suguru shrugged. "There are a lot of variables."
"Whatever. I'm not worried about it. It'll be like any other mission," Satoru said with finality, hoping Suguru would let it go.
Suguru didn't say anything, just looked at Satoru. And Satoru couldn't stand the silence between them, reaching out and grabbing at Suguru's sweatpants to try and pull him closer. Suguru put his hands flat on the roof and shifted over so he was closer to Satoru. Close enough that his arm brushed against Satoru's side.
He laid down next to Satoru—still too close. Their shoulders brushed, Suguru's hair tickled his bare arm below the sleeve of Satoru's t-shirt. Satoru kept his gaze fixed on the night sky, all too aware of Suguru next to him. Afraid that if he turned his head, put his nose right to Suguru's, that it would be too much. An invisible line in between them that Satoru liked to toe but never crossed.
"You're thinking too loud," Satoru joked, filling in the vast silence like a hole in the dirt.
He chanced turning his head only to find Suguru was already looking at him. Satoru's heart pounded in his ears. Pinned underneath Suguru's gaze, unable to move. While Satoru had been fixated on the stars, Suguru was focused on him.
"Is this some kind of front, or are you actually not nervous?" Suguru asked.
The only thing that Satoru could think of that made him nervous was Suguru's soft amber eyes looking at him like he was a puzzle to solve. Perhaps he should be more anxious about tomorrow. They had never had a mission like it. He still thought of the entire ordeal as one massive pain. Taking care of the weak. Satoru didn't dare bring that conversation up again. Besides…
"You'll be with me," Satoru said. "There's nothing to worry about it."
He could feel the moment the invisible line snapped. Some kind of emotion flickered in Suguru's eyes, something he deeply recognized but didn't want to even voice it inside his mind because it was too intense for him to even consider. Suguru softly brushed Satoru's arm with the tips of his fingers, perhaps testing to see if Satoru would pull away. Shove him, maybe. Make some kind of teasing comment. But Satoru was so rigid, more afraid to move than of any potential mission danger.
Suguru grew more bold, touching Satoru's skin more firmly in a way that couldn't be passed off as an accidental brush. It was still tentative, slow. Like if he made the wrong move, it would end with him getting burned. He brought his hand up to Satoru's face, tracing along his jaw, getting away with touching his skin without getting burned at all.
Satoru had never been touched so softly and with such care before. All his body knew was violence. And to be touched lovingly by hands that were capable of that violence was confusing to him.
Then, before Satoru's brain could even register it happening, Suguru brushed his lips against his. Suguru's breath mixed with his breath. Not quite a kiss, but the suggestion of one. The faintest of touches, but one that made Satoru's stomach flip with excitement. He didn't have time to think about whether he should or shouldn't. Satoru had already surged forward and crashed his lips against Suguru's.
Suguru made a noise deep in the back of his throat. His hands held Satoru's face on either side, keeping his head in place while he kissed him. Satoru felt electric. He felt breathless and nearly trembled with excitement. An overwhelming need to get closer to Suguru, but he couldn't bring himself to put his hands on Suguru. Was this allowed? Did this mean anything? If Satoru touched Suguru back, would this all shatter in his hands instantly?
It was clumsy, uncoordinated, and a little messy. Satoru was merely chasing after whatever felt good instead of trying to kiss with any sort of purpose. Suguru was less frantic, trying to guide Satoru's lips into a more tender rhythm. But Satoru didn't feel like he could calm down, his heart fluttering in his chest like a caged bird desperate to escape. His lungs ached from a lack of air. He wanted more. Suguru's skin against his.
A steady vibration in Suguru's pocket made Satoru snap out of it. The same spell that had taken over Suguru seemed to have been broken when he pulled away and flipped onto his back, digging in his pocket for his phone. His lips were a little flushed and shiny with their shared saliva. Satoru swallowed, turning away from Suguru as he answered the phone.
Satoru heard Shoko's voice coming from the speaker. "You're busted."
"Shit," Suguru said as Shoko continued to speak. Sentences too long for Satoru to clearly make out.
Satoru laid there silently, his hands folded on his stomach, breathing deeply through his nose to calm down. Almost dreading the moment when Shoko would hang up the phone and it would just be him and Suguru again. But at the same time, he was willing the conversation to be over so it would just be him and Suguru again.
"Okay—yeah—we're coming back—okay—bye." Suguru snapped the phone shut and ran a hand over his face.
"Do you think Yaga will go easy on us because we have an important mission tomorrow?" Satoru asked, trying to keep his voice even. Casual and unbothered.
Suguru was already getting up. "Second reprimand in less than a day. We might not even see tomorrow."
Forgetting to put up a barrier and getting caught sneaking out after curfew. They were not on a winning streak, and Satoru thought for a brief moment that maybe Suguru was right to be nervous about tomorrow.
They scrambled off the roof and hurried back to the dorms. Yaga wasn't there waiting for them, saving their scolding for the morning, most likely. One last stern lecture to make sure from here on out they took everything seriously. There would be no room for errors. A stretch of silence between them on the way back left Satoru feeling like they might've committed another error.
He thought about leaving it be. Retreating into his room and pretended that nothing had happened. That he and Suguru hadn't just held each other like they were each other's lifeline. But he had to know. Heat had stirred inside him and bubbled over the edge like boiled water, and he couldn't shut it away again.
They made it back to their rooms. Suguru's right next door to Satoru's. Just as it's been since day one.
The moment Satoru's hand came in contact with the doorknob, it was like the truth had been ripped from his throat. "Suguru, what we did—"
"We'll talk about it after the mission," Suguru said abruptly, and Satoru was almost taken aback by how sudden his answer was. Suguru, who was always trying to make Satoru dig a little deeper, had put up a wall, and Satoru collided right into it.
"No, now," Satoru bit back.
"After the mission," Suguru said, and Satoru could tell he wasn't going to budge. Suguru's face softened for a moment before adding, "I promise. We need to focus."
Satoru sniffed. "Fine."
He knew Suguru was right. Suguru was always infuriatingly right about everything. They couldn't be distracted tomorrow or any day afterwards until the mission was completed. Satoru and Suguru entered their respective rooms without saying another word. He tossed and turned in his bed the entire night, nerves eating his insides. Like moths in a dusty closet, chewing through fabric. Satoru didn't sleep at all.
And they never did talk about what happened.
October
Suguru's dorm room was bare.
Satoru stood in the doorway one last time, taking it in. The room looked like any other empty room at Jujutsu Tech. Anyone new wouldn't know it used to belong to Suguru Geto, and after some time, people who did know would forget that it was his room. A new student would move in, make their own friends, and go on their own missions. And the room would be a home to new memories.
He slid the door shut, closing off the room one last time, and locked it.
The wound on his heart was marred by scar tissue. Healed enough that he wasn't afraid of it bleeding at the mention of Suguru, but permanently marked because he could never forget Suguru. He didn't want to forget Suguru. A once-in-a-lifetime special connection that was worth remembering, and it hurt Satoru as much as it did because his love had been metamorphosed into grief. A butterfly crawling out of its cocoon with an already mangled wing.
But that's just how it was sometimes.
Satoru didn't have friends before Jujutsu Tech. He didn't have any relationships to lose before school. And now he had something that hurt to lose, and Satoru knew it was only the beginning in a way. That he would have more relationships, and he would lose some of those too, and it would hurt, but maybe not hurt as much as Suguru hurt him. And he needed to let himself sit with that hurt, accept it, and carry on.
In September, Satoru would've said Suguru was the right person at the wrong time. With some grief-stricken fantasy, he'd imagine a different reality where he met Suguru under different circumstances. In a timeline that didn't put them on the path to take the Star Plasma mission. But there, at the end of October with the leaves fully changed and the cool air whispering the promise of winter on the horizon, Satoru would say that Suguru was the right person at the right time. They just didn't have a lot of that time.
Satoru walked down the hall, past the rows of classrooms, with his hands in his pockets. The key to Suguru's dorm key was tucked in his fist. He'd return it to Yaga, and that really would be it.
A small flicker of cursed energy made him stop.
In one of the empty classrooms, Shoko sat by herself at a desk by the window. Her cheek pressed against the heel of her hand as she stared out the window. Wearing a gray Gap sweatshirt that was much too big for her. Satoru hadn't seen her since she stopped by the room, and perhaps that was because Shoko didn't want to be found in the first place. It was a rare unguarded moment where Satoru could see everything on her face.
"Hey," he said, and it was like a light was switched. Shoko sat up, closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them again, a usual air of nonchalance was there. That was their Shoko— nothing ever bothered her.
"Hey," she said.
"I was thinking about that new restaurant you mentioned on Omoide Yokocho later today. You free?"
"I thought you said you weren't going to go down that street again."
Satoru shrugged. "Changed my mind."
"How come?"
A simple question that came with a complex answer. He thought about answering truthfully. That he didn't want to let go of any memory of Suguru— good or bad. He didn't want to miss out on experiences because he was heartbroken. That he wanted to focus on the people in front of him instead of closing himself off because his favorite person was gone. What would a sentimental conversation between him and Shoko even look like? Were either of them even ready to show the other their scars?
"I like desserts," he said with a smile.
His easy answer made the corner of Shoko's lips tug upwards. "Makes sense."
"I can bully Ijichi and Nanami into going too," he said. "If you wanted. I'll leave it up to you to invite Utahime."
"Yeah, that sounds good. Text me when you're ready," she said, and Shoko already looked lighter. Like a gnawing curse that had been sitting on her shoulder had been exorcised.
Satoru nodded and turned back towards the hallway, his hand on the doorway.
"Hey, Gojo," Shoko called.
He paused and looked back at her over his shoulder. She shifted in her seat, swung her knees around so she was totally facing the doorway. Her smile was gone, replaced with a more earnest expression.
"Not today, but I want to talk about Geto sometime," she said.
A month ago, Satoru would've recoiled at the mention of Suguru's name. Blanched at the thought of talking about him, much less any feelings he had towards him. Would've immediately brushed her off. But he didn't feel any of that now.
Instead, he smiled at her again. "Yeah, sure."
October passed him by, but the memories remained.