Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Chapter 1 Precognition

Monday October 5th

Satoru stood with his face inches away from a case containing an experimental jumping spider that had its genes spliced with a leaf-mimicking spider. He was at the Tokyo Scientific Institute for a field trip for his Integrative Biological Studies class. The tour guide was droning on about the different types of spiders there are to study.

“There are tens of thousands of different spider varieties. Some with the ability to camouflage with their environment, and even some with the ability to sense what is happening in the environment around them.”

Someone shoved him from behind, his face colliding with the glass enclosure. The dormant spider inside leapt forward, sticking to the glass, the only thing separating it from Satoru. 

“You could do with some spidey-senses, Gojo.” Laughter sounded from the group of students. 

Satoru straightened out and turned to see Zenin Naoya standing, shoulders shaking from laughter, at the front of the group. Satoru shook his head, “Lay off, would you?”

Before Naoya could respond, their professor cut in, “Alright, cut it out. I won’t hesitate to fail you both if you can’t act like adults in public.”

Satoru's gaze was downcast as he mumbled an apology. His professor had already turned on her heels to leave. He moved to rejoin the group, but as he passed, Naoya stuck out a foot to trip him. Satoru braced for impact, but he was never met with the harsh bite of the marble floor. Instead, someone caught him by the shoulders and pulled him back up to balance on his own two feet. He heard Naoya snicker, but just barely. Everything else happening around him dulled and faded to the background.

He made eye contact with his savior, and his breath caught in his throat. Synapses fired faster than conscious thought, and he threw his arms around the other person. “Oh my god, dude, when did you get back?” 

Suguru’s chuckle lit a match in Satoru’s chest. “I just got back in this morning. I wanted to surprise you, got your schedule from Shoko.” He earnestly returned the hug. Suguru smelled like hardy green tea with a whisper of incense. Satoru greedily breathed it in. 

His best friend was here, his closest friend. After almost four years apart. Satoru could hardly believe it. His mind spun, already picturing everything they would do together to make up for lost time. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you for almost four years. God dude, why did you have to pick a school in America for university?”

Suguru laughed again, pulled away just enough to look Satoru in the eye, and gave him a soft smile, “It’s good to see you, Satoru.”

Satoru’s face lit up, “Not as good as it is for me to see you. Seriously, dude, would it have killed you to call once or twice? Four years is a long time!”

Suguru’s smile doesn’t leave his face, “I am here now, we should go out after this. Maybe go to the old ramen shop by the high school?”

Satoru nodded, “Yeah, yeah, after this. I’ll skip my afternoon classes. You should stay for the tour. There’s some real exciting stuff they’re studying here.”

Suguru’s nose scrunched, “You know I don’t care for bugs, especially spiders.” He shivered, shaking his head. 

“Oh come on-”

“Gojo san, we are on a schedule, please try to keep up.” At the sound of his professor’s voice, a reminder that they were surrounded by people, Satoru broke away from Suguru. 

“Right, sorry, sensei!” He turned to look at Suguru again, “Meet me at the cafe toward the front? This should only be like an hour and a half.”

Suguru nodded at him to signal his agreement. Satoru grinned and lifted his arm to wave goodbye. He felt a sharp prick and swiftly moved his hand to the back of his neck to swat at whatever it was. 

“Are you okay?” Suguru looked at him with concern and moved closer to him. “Let me see.”

“Gojo san!” It was his professor again. 

Satoru waved Suguru off, “It’s nothing, I’ll see you soon.” Suguru gave him a small smile. Satoru turned and ran to catch up with the rest of the group. 

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By the end of the tour, Satoru was feeling like shit. He felt feverish and his head hurt. The light was suddenly too harsh, and there was too much noise crowded around him. His vision swam, and he felt too lightheaded. He spotted an empty corridor and escaped down it. Satoru pressed his back firmly against one of the walls. He slowly slid down the wall to the floor. He needed to get it together. His eyes were closed tight. He could feel the way his left sock clung closer to his toes than his right. The texture of his dress shirt was suddenly too stiff and itchy. 

He took in a deep breath and held it for four beats, then released it for another four. Maybe it was just the leftover anxiety. It had been a while since he had an attack of this veracity, but it was possible. Maybe seeing Suguru again triggered something. Perhaps it reopened insecurities Satoru had long considered scabbed over and healed. He pushed his palms into his eyes, trying to ground himself in the moment, but it only made it worse. He felt too grounded. As if the ground beneath him was slowly devouring him. He was feeling too much. 

He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his dress shirt. His breathing came a little easier then. He ran his hands through his hair and tried to think of something else. He thought about all of the different spiders he saw during the tour. His mind caught on one in particular that was missing from its enclosure. It was cross-bred between a goldenrod spider, which was known for its advanced camouflage skills, and a trap-door spider, which was known for its impressive strength. The tour guide had told them that one of the arachnologists must’ve taken it back for further testing. It bummed him out a bit since it was one of their bigger showcases. He would have liked to see it. 

After his breathing returned to normal, Satoru stood up and dusted off his pants. Whatever this was, he didn’t want it to deter him from spending time with Suguru. He couldn’t believe it. His best friend had finally returned. He wondered for how long, if he would still have to return to America to finish his degree. Satoru still didn’t fully understand why Suguru chose to go to an American university. Even more so, the fact that they hadn’t really spoken during those four years he was away. 

Suguru hadn’t returned once to visit, and he never seemed to want Satoru to come visit him. Satoru had tried multiple times to visit. Especially that first year apart. He wanted to visit him for Christmas break, but something always seemed to happen to make it impossible. Suguru was always busy with something. Probably due to his father. He was a top engineer at Ryomen Tech, and Satoru knew that he wanted Suguru to follow in his footsteps. There was something to do with military weapons contracts in the States that had Suguru’s father tied up over there. Suguru never wanted to talk about it, though. 

Satoru quickly made his way to the cafe at the front of the institute. He spotted Suguru first; the man was sitting in the back corner. Arms crossed over his chest, head back against the wall. He looked like he was sleeping. Satoru thought he looked really cute in that moment. He walked forward and slipped into the chair in front of Suguru. He leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table, with his head in his hand. He couldn’t help but smile to himself. He hoped that Suguru was here to stay. He ardently hoped they wouldn’t have to say goodbye again. 

With a teasing lilt in his voice, he softly called, “Suguru, it’s time to open your eyes, sleepy head.”

The other man smiled and, without opening his eyes, said, “I don’t need to open my eyes to see you. I would know you while blind or deaf, with all my other senses dulled. I would still know it's you.”

Satoru didn’t know how to respond. There was a creeping heat inching up his neck. He was glad Suguru’s eyes remained closed, for he was certain his face was flushed. He cleared his throat, “But you need to open your eyes so we can go get ramen like you promised,” Satoru nearly whined.

Suguru’s grin widened. His eyes opened, and his gaze immediately found Satoru’s. He did his best not to fidget under the weight of it. Suguru’s eyebrows drew together. “Are you okay?” 

He wasn’t. But he didn’t want Suguru to know. He just wanted to spend time with him. He still felt the echoes of the panic attack, or he was coming down with something. His skin was too tight, and it felt clammy. His muscles were wound too tightly and were starting to ache. He gave Suguru a carefree smile and shrugged, “I’m great. Just hungry.” He stood from his seat and made a show of stretching. He tried to convey that he was fine, maybe just a little worn down, but more than well enough to go get ramen, and maybe walk around a nearby park so they could chat and catch up. 

Suguru returned his smile, “Alright, let’s get some food for you then. Are you sure it’s okay to miss your afternoon classes?”

Satoru waved off the question, “Totally, dude. I’d miss my own graduation to spend time with you.” Something in the air shifted. It was a minute change; if Satoru had blinked, he would have missed it entirely. A pause in Suguru’s demeanor, his shoulders went rigid, and he looked lost for just a second. 

He recovered, “You shouldn’t say things so carelessly,” Suguru chastised. 

Satoru only shrugged and hurried Suguru along with a wave of his hand. Suguru sighed, stood up in one elegant motion, and followed Suguru out of the cafe. 

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“Are you sure you’re okay?” Suguru asked for the fifth time during their walk. 

“I’m fine, stop fussing.” In truth, he felt feverish. On the brink of passing out. All of the noise around him ricocheted in his skull, but he smiled through it. They were almost at the ramen house now. 

“Come here.” Suguru was a few steps behind him. He turned to look at his friend. His eyebrows were knitted in concern. He’d stopped walking, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“What? I said I’m fine.” Satoru stopped walking, too. Suguru shook his head and closed the distance. Before he could process what was happening, Satoru had caught Suguru’s wrist in his hand. 

“You just look feverish. Here, let me check.” Suguru tried to wrestle his hand back, but Satoru held firm. A little too firm. 

“Suguru, I’m fine.” They were mere steps away from the ramen house. He wasn’t going home just because he felt a little under the weather; he’d get through it. 

“Yo!” The two men turned their attention to the newcomer. It was Shoko, she had a cigarette held in one hand in the other held up half in greeting. 

Satoru took this as the out he needed, “Shoko! What are you doing here?” 

“I let her know we’d be here after your tour,” Suguru answered. His smile was like a beacon in a storm. 

Shoko walked up to the two of them and punched Suguru in the shoulder. “Imagine my surprise to hear that my childhood friend who disappeared and didn’t bother to call or text for four years was in town.” 

“Hey! You knew before I did!” Satoru interjected. He looked back at Suguru, who was rubbing his shoulder. “Thanks for pointing him in the right direction, though.” Satoru smiled to himself. It was a nice surprise. Up to that point, he had been having an awful day. 

His alarm hadn’t gone off, so he had to rush to get ready. His annoying cousin had been hogging the bathroom, doing her hair and makeup. That caused him to leave his apartment that morning 45 minutes late, making him miss his train. The one running after broke down, and he had to run the rest of the way to the science institute when they finally got to the next station. 

Then he had to deal with all of the subtle taunting from Naoya. Luckily, Suguru showed up at the perfect moment. 

That was Suguru, though. Aside from these past four years, he has always had perfect timing. Always saving Satoru from himself. Saving him from his family. He was always the lighthouse signaling on the safe and distant shore. A constant Satoru could rely on. Until he wasn’t. 

“Well, I couldn’t say no, could I?” Shoko said, discarding her cigarette. She turned to face Satoru, “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled. “I feel great, though. Did you get a table?”

“He keeps denying it, but I don’t think he’s feeling alright,” Suguru adds. 

Shoko doesn’t answer Satoru’s question; instead, she responds to Suguru, “Has he looked like this all day?”

Suguru shakes his head, “No, when I first saw him, he looked okay. I think something happened right before the tour.” 

He turned to face Satoru, “Come here.” 

Satoru rolled his eyes, but moved closer to Suguru. “I’m fine,” he said emphatically. 

Suguru moves behind Suguru. His hands came up to prod his neck. “Here, there’s a bump. Maybe a bite?”

Shoko crowds beside Suguru, “Lean down, I can’t see.” She ordered. Satoru huffed out an annoyed breath, but complied. “Oh, dude! This looks awful.”

Satoru stood up straight again, “Guys, it’s nothing. Can we just go in and get a table?”

Shoko moved around to face him again, “That’s not nothing. You should go to a clinic and get it looked at.”

“Guys, really, I’m fine. I’m just a little run down from midterms, and I’m starving. I ran out of the house without breakfast.” Satoru pulled away from his two friends. Their poking and prodding were unsettling. He felt it everywhere. The street seemed noisier than usual, too, which was a testament to anywhere in Tokyo, considering it was never quiet. The sun seemed brighter, too. He felt a headache forming behind his eyes. He’d forgotten his sunglasses in his rush to leave the apartment that morning. 

“Yeah, okay,” Shoko shrugged and walked off toward the entrance of the ramen house. 

Satoru’s gaze turned towards Suguru. The other man still looked over concerned and completely unconvinced. “Suguru, let’s just go eat. If I’m still looking like shit afterwards, I’ll go to a clinic. I think all I need is some good food and maybe a nap.”

Suguru’s jaw was tight. He was still unconvinced, Satoru could tell by the tiredness of his posture. Still, despite the evident apprehension, Suguru gave him a small nod. “Okay, Satoru, if you say so.”

The next moment unfolded in slow motion. Satoru's fingers curled around Suguru’s wrist. Then he was pulling Suguru towards him. Turning so Satoru’s back was on the outside, his chest pressed fast against Suguru’s back. A biker wiped past them, nearly grazing Satoru. Had it not been for his quick reflexes, the biker would’ve run right into Suguru. Satoru’s chest heaved as he drew in quick breaths. Over the sound of his own pounding heart, Satoru could hear Suguru’s. The erratic, uneven rhythm of it trapped itself in Satoru’s mind. It was a drumbeat inside his skull.

Suguru stammered something, but all the other noises drowned it out. Satoru felt like he was underwater while simultaneously stuck in an engine that broke the sound barrier. Suguru looked over his shoulder then, catching Satoru’s gaze. He still couldn’t hear what the other man was saying, but he saw the words form on Suguru’s lips, “Thank you.”

It took a moment for Satoru’s brain to catch up with everything. He watched the biker disappear in the crowd. “Just returning the favor.” The two stood there. A moment frozen in time. Satoru’s ragged breathing caused his chest to press against Suguru’s in uneven intervals. His focus zeroed in on their proximity. His hands were clammier than before. Sweat seeping into Suguru’s shirt. If he had been more present in the moment, Satoru might’ve cringed. Neither moved away from the other. 

“Are you two coming, or do you need a moment?” Shoko’s voice cut through the dense fog of Satoru’s mind. 

“We’ll be right there,” he called back. He saw her roll her eyes and enter the ramen house. 

Suguru was the first to move away, but Satoru’s hand was stuck to his shirt. Suguru turned to face him, “Are you okay?” 

Satoru tried to pull his hand away, but it stuck to Suguru. “I… I don’t know. Suguru, I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Just breathe, it’ll be fine. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together. You just need to let go.”

Satoru realized at that moment that he was gripping Suguru’s shoulder. His hand wasn’t stuck at all; he just needed to let go. He huffed a breath out through his nose. “Right, yeah.” He let go of Suguru’s shoulder. 

Suguru gave him a tight smile, “Okay, let’s go get some ramen.”

Suguru nodded, “Right, yeah. Ramen.”

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After ramen, after catching up, after he had returned home, promising he’d go to the clinic in the morning, Satoru sat on his bed. By the time he made it home, his cousin Riko was already asleep. His Aunt Misato wouldn’t be home for the next few weeks either. The apartment was silent. The only noise should’ve been his breathing. But Satoru could hear everything. The fridge in the kitchen, the water drip, drip, dripping in the bathroom adjacent to his bedroom. 

He could hear Riko in her room on the other side of the apartment. Every time she turned over. He heard the fabric rustle and the old metal bed frame creak. The sounds outside were also amplified. He felt like his skull was going to crack. His pajamas were uncomfortable, and the blackout curtains in his bedroom couldn’t filter enough light. Everything felt too much. He could even hear the neighbors' soft conversations held within the sanctity of their individual units. 

His mind kept reeling; it wouldn’t let him rest. It replayed the events of the day, again and again. His panic attack at the institute. The missing spider. The bite on his neck. The incident with the biker. The way everything was louder and brighter than usual. It felt like the whole world was pushing in on him. His phone buzzed, and it was enough to break his usual keen concentration. He grabbed it from its place on his bedside table. The light was too bright, even on the lowest setting. He squinted his eyes and saw Suguru’s name. His heart stuttered for a moment. He still couldn’t believe this wasn’t a dream. Suguru had finally come home. He was staying in Tokyo, a mere six blocks away from Satoru.

Suguru: Hope you feel better tomorrow, Satoru! I want a tour of the Tokyo campus :)

Satoru smiled at his phone. He’d do anything to make up for lost time. He meant what he said earlier to Suguru at the cafe. He’d miss his own graduation. He’d do the same for Shoko, of course. He would go to the ends of the earth for his friends. 

Satoru: wouldnt miss it for the world dude!

  When the three dots appeared, indicating that Suguru was on the other side typing, Satoru turned and clicked the power button, and let the phone fall from his hand. Or at least he tried. It stuck to his fingers. The phone screen lit up again, hurting his eyes. Suguru’s name stared back at him, along with whatever horror waited inside him.

“What is happening to me?” He whispered into the dark. His words echoed back to him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 A Sticky Situation

Tuesday October 6th

Satoru jolted awake. His alarm blared loudly in his ear, and sweat clung to his entire body like a sheet. He turned over to silence the insistent buzzing, fully prepared to flip back over and close his eyes again. What was intended to be a light tap of the button turned out to be more of a body slam. A cracking sound cut through the room. The cheap plastic of the clock crumbled beneath his hand. He sat up and stared at the clock in disbelief. Satoru was horrified. Better this than my phone, I suppose. He’d never had so much strength. He would have brushed it off as a freak accident if it weren’t for everything else. Satoru could still hear the alarm. He realized then that it also sounded different than his own. He must’ve been hearing the neighbors the whole time. 

He flipped to his stomach and yanked his pillow over his head. He muffled a scream into his mattress. His eyelids drooped closed, and the rest of his body was still heavy with sleep. The alarm sound finally ended, and Satoru reached too quickly for his phone. He ended up knocking over everything on his nightstand, including his phone. Still groggy, despite the loud noises, Satoru blinked his eyes, trying to bring the scene into focus. He reached down to grab his phone. He realized then that his pillow was stuck to his hand. 

“What the hell is happening?” He echoed his question from the previous night back to himself. A knock from the door rang through the room. Satoru tried to shake the pillow from his hand, but it was of no use. With mounting frustration, he yelled, “What could you possibly want from me right now, Riko?”

Satoru heard his cousin snort through the door. “I just wanted to make sure you woke up on time, you dick! Sorry for trying to look out for you. Won’t happen again!” She shouted back to him and stomped off down the hallway. 

Satoru rolled his eyes, “Yeah, whatever…” he mumbled to himself. His attention turned back to his pillow stuck to his hand. He again tried to shake it off, to no avail. His nerves pricked, bright red anger sparked inside him. Sweat started to make rivulets down his forehead. God, he could smell the salt in it; it was awful. The sound of his blood rushing through his veins and heart played on surround sound, washing every other noise out. Satoru dropped his head against his headboard and took in a deep breath. He grabbed the pillow with his other hand and pulled. 

Feathers exploded everywhere. Covering both him and his bed in an uneven layer of feathers. His eye twitched, “Great, now I look like a sticky, feathered freak.” He shook his head and looked down at his hands. They were both covered in remnants of the pillow case. This morning can't possibly get any worse. Satoru climbed out of bed, forgetting entirely about his phone on the floor. He wrenched open his bedroom door and stormed off to the bathroom. 

He slammed the door with more force than necessary. He heard the photo frames shake on the other side of the wall, and he heard a shattering sound. Satoru winced and slowly turned towards the mirror. It had hairline cracks running through it. Okay. It can get worse. Seven years of bad luck worse. He carefully turned the tap to the sink on, paying close attention to the amount of force used, and working hard to avoid as much surface area as possible. 

He didn’t know what else to do. Satoru scrubbed at his hands until they were raw and bleeding. He flipped the shower on and quickly stepped in after stripping off his clothes. Satoru stood beneath the cascading water, trying to collect his thoughts. It was hard to focus on any one thing, though. He felt the water too keenly. It sprayed on his skin too lightly. The pressure was too light, but the sound was too loud. He could hear it traverse through the pipes. 

His entire environment was getting to be too loud. He heard people shuffling in the corridor outside their apartment. Others are going through their morning routine. Alarms going off, water being turned on, speaking with their roommates, cooking, and even keys jangling. Satoru could hear Riko in their kitchen. Pots and pans clanging together, the clicking sound the stove made when it was switched on, and the beeping of the rice cooker. Satoru could hear it all. 

A knock on the door cut through his thoughts. “What?” Satoru called out. He was met with no response. He shook his head. He had to be hearing things. There was no way he was hearing that much detail outside of his apartment. His hyperactive imagination was running wild due to a lack of sleep. He’d already been running on fumes since midterms were right around the corner. Crazy shit aside -Satoru couldn’t remember the last time he got a full night’s rest. Too much to think about, too many things stuck in his mind like gum in a cog. Too many responsibilities weighing him down. 

He shut the shower off, breathing in the leftover steam. Satoru’s breathing eventually evened out, and his head felt relatively clear. He stepped out of the shower and toweled off with no problems. He tried looking in the mirror, but it was too fogged up. He cringed again at the cracks running through it. I probably don’t look like an oversized chicken anymore . He looked down at himself and couldn’t see any noticeable feathers.

Back in his room, Satoru closed the door and leaned his forehead against it. His senses were still overwhelmed, but he felt slightly more grounded after the shower. One hand was on the doorknob, while the other rested on his hip over his towel. He glanced down at the doorknob to find that it was dented with the shape of his hand. Satoru sighed and rolled his eyes, “Shit.” Satoru heard fabric rustling behind him. He looked over his shoulder and froze. 

There in his bed, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, sat Suguru. He wore his black hair down today. It cascaded down his back in soft waves. He was fidgeting in his seat and looked completely out of his comfort zone. His hand kept coming up to tuck a piece of stray hair behind his ear. Satoru stood there watching him, completely forgetting where he was. His heart rate picked up again. Satoru could hear Suguru’s heartbeat, too, from where the other man sat on his bed. His cheeks were tinged red. Satoru thought it was cute how flustered he was. 

Suguru’s voice crashed into him like an ice-cold wave, “Sorry, your cousin said I could wait here.” He stood quickly, causing a flurry of feathers to rise. Satoru saw that a few had managed to catch in Suguru's hair. They stood out stark against the onyx black of it. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. I’m being absurd. This should not make me smile. 

Satoru held out his hands in apology. He noticed immediately that Suguru’s spine went rigid. He feels a draft that wasn’t there before. Red crept over the other man’s features, and he avoided all eye contact with Satoru. 

That’s when he looked down and realized he’d pulled the towel away from his waist. Exposing himself completely to Suguru. “Oh sh-shit!” He stammered out. He immediately recovered and rescued the towel around his waist. He was sweating again. So much for the shower . Satoru sent up a silent thank you that the towel didn’t stick to him at all. At least something can go right . Satoru could’ve cried from the relief.

 “Satoru…” Suguru’s voice cracked on his name. His eyes were upturned. He seemed extremely invested in the state of the popcorn ceiling. One hand ran nervously through his hair again. Suguru would not make eye contact with Satoru. 

“Sorry!” Satoru blurted out. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, while the other remained clamped around his towel. It was clear to him that Suguru was embarrassed. I should be the embarrassed one here, I flashed him after all.” 

Suguru’s eyes closed. Satoru watched Suguru’s throat work as he swallowed slowly and licked his lips. Once, twice… Suguru nodded his head, breaking Satoru’s concentration. When Suguru opened his eyes again, the found Satoru’s immediately across the room. “I’ll…let you finish getting ready.” Suguru rushed toward the door, nearly bumping into Satoru. 

Before Suguru could reach for the dented knob, Satoru was already twisting it, and letting his friend pass. “K, Dude! See you in a minute.” The door closed with a soft click. Satoru clicked his tongue, “Suguru is going to think I’ve become some kind of perv…” he shook his head and ran his hands down his face. 

Satoru turned to his bedside table. The mess had been cleared from the floor and his phone sat face up on the table. Suguru must’ve done it. He smiled at the gesture. That was just like Suguru, always thoughtful like that. Satoru walked over to his phone and picked it up. He overturned his hand and let go. His phone was stuck fast to his palm. Satoru frowned at it. 

This could be really cool , Satoru thought. If I learn to control it. He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of the phone, how it pulled at his hand with its gravity. He managed to relax and slow his breathing. It was still difficult to zero in on just one thing. Eventually though, Satoru heard a soft thud when his phone hit the mattress. He opened his eyes, and he couldn’t help the childlike smile that consumed his face. There’s potential here, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It all seemed pretty cool once he got past all the weird shit. He absently wondered what other changes he had yet to uncover. 

He had way more strength now, that was evident from the broken alarm clock and dented door knob. His senses were heightened too, especially his hearing. Satoru looked at his hands, he wasn’t sure if sticky was the right word. But they certainly stuck to things now. He wondered if he could use the superior strength and his sticky hands to traverse walls and stuff. Now, that could be cool.

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When Satoru emerged from his room, he found Riko serving Suguru breakfast. The sight of it made his heart lurch. He took his place at the small circular table. His knee bumped Suguru’s, but the other man didn’t meet Satoru’s eye. Instead, he and Riko chatted on about different ways to make eggs. Satoru rolled his eyes and grabbed a pair of disposable chopsticks from the center dish on the table. 

He tore the paper away and pulled the two chopsticks apart, snapping one clean in half. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, but they snapped way easier than usual. He pursed his lips and pushed away from the table, quickly disposing of the broken utensils before either Riko or Suguru noticed. He focused on maintaining calm and even breathing, and just staying relaxed. He figured that helped not stick to things. Satoru strided over to the utensil drawer and grabbed a sturdier reusable pair of chopsticks. 

Back at the table, he started to chow down on his morning rice. The conversation had fizzled out at that point. He looked up mid-bite to see both his cousin and his friend staring at him. Satoru shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the chopsticks sticking weirdly to his fingers. Still, through it, he managed another scoop of rice. “What?” He asked with his mouth full. 

“Are you following through on your promise to go to the clinic?” Suguru asked. His thin, dark eyebrows were drawn together in concern. Satoru’s eyes flick away to glance at his cousin, who looked more confused than worried. One eyebrow was hitched up, and her eyes narrowed in concentration. As if she could study the answer right out of him. 

Satoru smiled and waved off the question, “I’m actually feeling a lot better this morning. Guess I was right. All I really needed was some food and some rest.”

Suguru only sighed, his eyes returning to his meal. “Why would you go to the clinic?” Riko asked, also around a mouthful of rice. 

Suguru was quick to answer in his place, “He got bitten at the science institute yesterday.” He frowned and turned his attention fully to Satoru, “I still think you should g-“

Riko nearly choked, her coughing cut Suguru off, “You got bit by one of their experiments?” Her eyes were as wide as saucers and her voice had gone shrill. “What the hell, Satoru? Did you tell anyone?”

Satoru sighed through his nose and turned a pointed glare at Suguru. “No. It’s not that big a deal.” He took another bite of his rice, “Besides, I don’t think it was anything dangerous. There’s no proof that it was one of their experiments.” That was the first time Satoru had even considered that possibility. A major oversight, but what difference did it really make? What was done, was done.

“Do you have any weird side effects?” Riko asked, almost eagerly. She seemed excited at the prospect, it kinda creeped him out. Suguru, between them, dropped his chopsticks and looked over at Satoru, waiting for his answer. 

Sweat was beading on his brow again; the scent of salt invaded his nose. Seriously, what a waste of a shower. Satoru made sure to give none of his worries away. His expression remained neutral, and he said with an even voice, “I think I just had a fever; I feel much better now.”  

Riko pouted and picked at her rice, “That’s too bad. I was kinda hoping webs would start shooting out of your butt, or something crazy like that!”

Suguru choked on air and reached for a glass of orange juice. He had it halfway drained when Satoru responded through his laughter, “I think that would be kinda cool, especially if it came with cooler abilities like wall climbing and invisibility! I would be some kind of…” he trailed off, thinking of a phrase. Riko leaned in, her excitement clear and contagious. Satoru couldn’t help the growing grin on his face.

“Spider-Man.” Suguru offered, with silent certainty.

Riko and Satoru’s faces lit up, “Yeah! Exactly that, Suguru!” Satoru turned to his friend and, without thinking much of it, asked, “Would you still love me if I turned into a spider?” The “L” word hung between them. Riko perked up in curiosity. A devious smile bloomed across her face, but she remained silent. Eyes roaming back and forth between Satoru and Suguru. A warm feeling spread through Satoru as his stomach did somersaults. Why would I ask that, first, I basically corner him in my room and flash him? Now this stupid question about love? What’s next? A proposal over our shared bento box?  

After an awkward pause, it became obvious that Suguru didn’t know how to respond. Satoru could hear the thunderous beating of his heart. Suguru fiddled with his chopsticks, which was uncharacteristic of him. He was always proper, always yelling at Satoru when he played with his food. Or used his chopsticks for things other than eating. Riko eventually broke the silence and offered, “I’d still love you. Even if you turned into a creepy crawly, you’d still be my same idiot cousin you’ve always been.”

Suguru nodded and quickly added, his face flushed, “You’d still be our Satoru.”

Our Satoru . The phrase bloomed all sorts of feelings within Satoru. He smiled down at his rice and said, “Aw, thanks, guys.” They finished their breakfast with comfortable teasing banter. All sharing hypotheticals on what it would be like to have their very own Spider-Man amongst them. Yet through all the teasing, Satoru’s mind kept returning to our Satoru .

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

The three of them walked to the train station together. Suguru waved to Riko as she ran off to catch her train. Then he turned his attention to Satoru. The look he gave him made his stomach flip. Suguru waved his fingers in a “come here” motion. Satoru complied before he even made a conscious decision. Suguru placed a hand on his shoulder. His eyebrows knitted together, “You’re burning up.” His hand moved up to feel Satoru’s forehead. 

Satoru decided to allow him this. He leaned into Suguru’s hand and closed his eyes. “I’m perfectly fine. I feel a lot better than I did yesterday.”

Suguru laughed, “So now you admit you weren’t feeling your best,” he teasingly accused. 

Satoru sighed. He momentarily considered telling Suguru everything. He didn’t want to burden his friend, though. He’d just come back, and Satoru just wanted things to be normal. He just wanted to have fun with Suguru and Shoko without worrying about whatever was changing inside him. He knew Suguru would support him, but he didn’t want to be supported. He didn’t want to be just another burden.

Suguru lightly ran his thumb over Satoru’s cheekbone. He hadn’t even realized the other man had cupped his face so tenderly. He was too caught up in the commotion of the station and his own too-loud thoughts. It felt like lightning had whipped through him. Satoru quickly pulled away from Suguru’s touch. The softness of it caused a weird sort of dissonance within him. It was too light in contrast to everything else. It reminded him of the water pressure from earlier. Too light, too much like a whisper. It wasn’t enough to keep him anchored in reality when everything else was demanding his attention. It made his skin crawl.

Suguru’s gesture was meant to quell the rising flames, but instead, they only managed to feed them more oxygen. Satoru looked for any subtle sign of disappointment or discomfort from Suguru, but the other man recovered quickly. Putting his hand in his pocket, and giving Satoru a soft smile that caused creases to appear at the corners of Suguru’s eyes. It meant nothing. He’s just worried because he’s my friend. But… Did I want it to mean something? When did this start being a thing I was concerned about?  

Satoru shrugged in answer, and gave Suguru a lazy smile. “Come on, we’re already late for meeting Shoko at the Library.”

Suguru scoffed and pointed his nose in the air, “And whose fault is that, Satoru? I see nothing has changed, you’re still running late, as usual.”

Satoru’s grin widened, “It’s part of my charm. I thought you liked me unpredictable.”

Satoru stepped in front of Suguru faster than his vision could properly process. He moved on instinct as Suguru’s foot caught on the platform. Satoru was there, catching him. Instead of Suguru’s face meeting concrete, it met Satoru’s chest. The movement was sharp and far too quick to be normal. Satoru helped the other man find his balance, and when it seemed that Suguru had recovered enough to stand on his own, Satoru stepped away. “Still repaying you for yesterday, it seems,” he said flippantly before Suguru even had a chance to thank him. Satoru looked up and down the platform to see if anyone had noticed, but it must’ve just been him.

Suguru looked stunned. His hair was in a bit of disarray, probably because he’d been nervously running his hands through it all morning. His breathing was hitched. Satoru could hear it over all the other noise in the station. Suguru blinked a few times and then turned to look at Satoru. Something was there in the look he gave him. Something that made Satoru feel seen in a way he hadn’t for a while. Like Suguru knew more about Satoru from that one glance than Satoru could ever hope to understand about himself, Suguru opened his mouth, but Satoru was already turning on his heels, “Let’s go, campus awaits! Shoko is probably bored out of her mind without me there to entertain.” He walked down the platform, ignoring the way Suguru looked at him. Like he was the missing word in his morning puzzle.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Satoru had reluctantly left his friends in the library so he could attend class. Shoko promised to take good care of Suguru, but Satoru honestly didn’t know what she meant by that. He only had to get through two classes. One that started at 9 am, and another at 12:30. He planned to show Suguru around the small art museum on campus during his break. The building is usually void of people, which would be a nice break from how the morning had gone so far. 

People were everywhere. They always were in Tokyo; the population was so dense here. Nothing in particular had changed, but Satoru felt more acutely aware of the fact that he was surrounded by thousands of people. At the station, there was a mass sea of people; they were all packed onto the train like sardines, and walking to class, he felt the weight of every subtle brush and every wandering eye. 

Sitting in class, Satoru could not sit still. He kept weaving his pen through his fingers. He had lost count of how many times he readjusted in his seat. He could hear the scratching of the other students’ pens on paper and tablets. The clock at the back of the lecture hall was a constant ticking against his temple. It was driving him insane. His eyes were already pretty sensitive, but he noticed a difference there, too. The lights seemed brighter. He noticed details around him that he’d never seen before. Different textures in the landscape. The individual groves on the surface of his desk.

There was a brief pause to all of the clatter in his head -just a millisecond where he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Again, like back at the train station, Satoru was moving faster than his brain could keep up. He turned in his seat and caught a damp wad of paper in his hand. There was snickering from the students sitting around him. But it ended almost as soon as it had started; they stopped as soon as they realized what had happened; he caught the projectile before it had the chance to hit him.

Before he even turned his attention toward them, he caught two more. He recognized them for what they were: Spit wads. His eyes roved over the other students until he found Naoya. Of course, it would be that Zenin bastard. He gave Satoru a tight, mocking smile before he brought the straw to his mouth again. 

Naoya never got the chance to hurl another one, though. Satoru was already in front of him. Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, Satoru yanked the other kid out of his seat.

“Do you mind?” Satoru asked. Gasps rang out around the auditorium. The professor stopped lecturing. Satoru could feel everyone’s eyes on him. His senses were catching up with him. He realized that Naoya felt much lighter than he should. There was little to no strain in Satoru’s muscles. Satoru glanced down. He hadn’t just pulled Naoya out of his seat -no, Satoru currently held him suspended. Shocked by his brute strength, Satoru let go of Naoya’s shirt. The other man fell on his ass, hard. 

Without looking back, Satoru snatched his bag off the floor and leapt over the last row of seats. He stormed out of the lecture hall, feeling every individual eye like needle pricks to his skin. His stomach flipped, knowing and understanding the reality of what he had just done. Knowing with absolute certainty that Naoya would not let this go. 

What the hell was that about, Satoru? Way to draw attention to myself. I might as well write “I’m a walking, talking, sticky science experiment gone wrong.” On my forehead. He would never live that down. Whatever that was. It was a tipping point. He rubbed his hand down the leg of his jeans; there was lint and fuzz on them from Naoya’s collar. He examined his hands again. This time, he noticed that the raw skin from earlier had already healed again. He tried to think back to when it had happened. He couldn’t remember. He hadn’t noticed it at all. Regardless of when, though, it happened impossibly fast.

Satoru burst into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Too much force . The doorjam was crushed into the wall. Satoru couldn’t bring himself to care. I just need a moment… Shit! Is every super-human origin story this fucking weird, or is it just mine? Satoru harshly exhaled and sank to the cool tiled floor. He roughly rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hands. He pressed until color burst behind his eyelids. The lights were getting to him. Too bright and too loud. He leaned over to try to reach the light switch, hoping he’d be able to think better in the dark. 

Satoru’s jaw fell open. Quick as a whip, something flew out of his wrist. It didn’t hit anywhere near the lightswitch, but it clung to the tiled wall. Satoru’s first instinct was to be horrified, but after a moment, laughter bubbled up inside his chest. Did I just shoot a web? Maybe Riko was onto something. Oh God, what if it really does come out-

There was banging on the door. Satoru scrambled to his feet, “One second!” He called. The knocking grew more urgent, which succeeded in fraying the last of Satoru’s nerves, splintering the last of his composure. Without a second thought, he unlatched the door and flung it open, “Asshole, I’m bu-”

A hand encircled his throat. Satoru was being pushed back into the bathroom. “Did you think you could embarrass me and get away with it, Gojo?”

Satoru blinked. He felt like he had been pushed out of his body. A cold chill traveled up his spine. His skin prickled like it had been met with a blast of cold air. He stood on the opposite side of the bathroom now. Naoya was holding nothing but air, blinking at the open space that Satoru had occupied only moments before. He looked utterly stupid, standing and blinking at nothing. Naoya turned in a tight circle, “Where the hell are you?”

Satoru put a hand over his mouth to suppress a chuckle. He couldn’t believe it. He looked down at himself and only felt a little disoriented. If it weren't for the adrenaline, he would probably have thrown up. He was completely invisible. An idea bloomed in his mind, and he grinned at himself. While Naoya searched the stalls for him, he flexed his wrist again. He wasn’t sure if this would work, but it would be an interesting experiment. This time, he flexed his wrist back, and webbing shot out again. It wasn’t a lot, and it didn’t stay anchored to him like it had the first time. 

His grin stretched wider across his face. He turned toward his backpack and focused on the trajectory. It was just trigonometry after all, nothing he couldn’t handle. He flexed his wrist. The web shot out in an arc, but it wasn’t like a rope. It was more mist-like. Satoru chewed on his bottom lip. Naoya banged open a stall door right beside him, causing him to flinch. Okay, he just needed time to figure this out, but here wasn’t the place.

On silent feet, he slunk over to his backpack. The moment he picked it up, it too disappeared. Oh, this will come in handy, he smothered another chuckle. Naoya could look all day; for once, Satoru was truly untouchable. At that thought, Satoru let his head fall back as he laughed and ran out of the bathroom. 

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Satoru decided that the rest of the day didn’t matter as much as spending time with his friends. He looked at the map on his phone one last time before pocketing it. Shoko and Suguru were both still in the library. He ran up the front steps, taking some stairs three at a time. Even my coordination is better , he thought absentmindedly. 

He weaved his way through the stacks until he found the subsection of private study rooms. He walked up to the one Shoko and he typically reserved, and peeked inside. Shoko was forehead down on the table, probably taking a nap. Suguru sat across from her. Half his hair had been pulled up in a bun, and Satoru could see a pen and a highlighter sticking out of the little bun. His face felt flushed all of a sudden, and he smiled at the sight of his friends. Suguru had one knee pulled up to his chest. Both arms balanced on the knee, he was holding a book. Satoru couldn’t see the title because Suguru was blocking his view. 

I don’t know whether to be grateful or bummed that I didn’t get X-ray vision, too . Satoru shrugged. Maybe it’s something that would develop. It thrilled him a little to think about all of the potential. There was so much to explore and figure out as it was, but he wondered if any other powers would manifest. Satoru could already imagine all of the pranks he’d pull with the invisibility. 

He looked down at himself to make sure he was completely corporeal. Satisfied, he turned the knob to the private study room. Shoko lifted her head and gave him a rueful smile. “What do we owe for the pleasure of your company?” She asked and stretched her arms up and behind her head. 

“Shouldn’t you still be in class, Satoru?” Suguru asked without looking away from his book.

“Nah, class was boring -besides, had to see what you two love birds were up to.” Satoru wasn’t sure why he said the last part. He was testing the waters for something… anything to point him in the right direction. Satoru wasn’t going to examine it much further. Suguru stiffened. He dropped his leg to the ground and leaned over the table. 

Shoko made a face, sticking out her tongue and scrunching her nose, “Ew, no! No love birds here. Besides, Sugu-”

Suguru slammed his book shut, effectively cutting off Shoko’s words. “Shoko was hard at work slaking off,” Suguru offered, still avoiding direct eye contact. Suguru only seemed to allow himself glances from his peripheral. “I’m catching up on some light reading.” He supplied for himself. 

“Ah, light reading. I thought you were cradling a paperweight over there, Suguru.” Satoru tilted his chin in the direction of the giant tome that now sat closed on the table. 

Suguru’s lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. Shoko was looking at Satoru now. “Hey, dumbass, didn’t we tell you yesterday to go to the clinic?”

Satoru draped himself over the couch that sat along the wall. “I don’t remember. I’ve been having trouble retaining verbal instructions recently. I should probably go get that checked out.”

Suguru sighed and crossed his arms. “Still the same Satoru, I see. Even after all this time.” Satoru did not miss the fond expression that ghosted over Suguru’s features. The way his eyes softened and his small smile transformed him. When Suguru caught Satoru’s eye, he quickly looked away. Satoru tried to ignore how that made him feel. 

“Dude, you look as white as a ghost! Which is hard to accomplish considering you already blend in with the snow.”

Suguru didn’t add to Shoko’s teasing. He just sat back in his seat. Satoru closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing. All he could hear was the three of their heartbeats. One erratic, another frantic, and the third a constant, even thrum. Is this what vampires feel like? Always forced to focus on other people’s pulses?

Shoko stood and walked over to Satoru. Her open palm flew at him, but he easily caught it without even opening his eyes. Satoru could feel her once steady pulse flutter under his grip. Shoko’s hissed breath cut through the room. “Hey! Ow!” Shoko snatched her arm back. “I wasn’t going to hit you that hard,” she shook out her hand, “Did you have to grab me with a death grip? Where’d you get that kind of strength from anyway?” 

Satoru stiffened and sat up, “Sorry, Shoko, here lemme see,” he waved her over. Shoko reluctantly stepped forward and offered him her wrist. It was red and angry. Satoru could make out the marks of his fingers. Suguru didn’t say anything, but Satoru felt the other man’s eyes on him. He could imagine the look of concern. For both Shoko and him. 

“Shit, sorry. I don’t know what happened. I moved before I could process anything. Here, I’ll go get some ice.” Satoru moved to stand up, but Shoko shook her head. Satoru was hyper-aware of the fact that Suguru was watching him. He wanted to leave and catch his breath for just a moment. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. You stay, I need a smoke break anyway.” Shoko glanced down at her wrist. She flexed her hand. “I think it looks worse than it actually is. You didn’t break anything, Satoru.” Her voice softened at his name, conveying that she didn’t blame him. 

Satoru nodded and fell lamely back on the couch. “Alright, I’ll trust the med student.” Shoko nodded in agreement and grabbed her purse. Without as much as a goodbye, she left the private study room. The room fell silent, but Satoru could practically hear Suguru thinking. There was an energy in the room that Satoru didn’t know how to dispel. His mind kept circling back to: Suguru knows. And how could he not?

Satoru had been tweaking out all day, and Suguru had been there to witness just about every instance. Even if he hadn’t, Suguru was his best friend. What had he said the day before, “Even deaf or blind…” Did Suguru mean that? Did he have some unnatural sense that kept him attuned to Satoru? Even after four years, could they really have a bond that strong? The thought pleased him as much as it scared him. And to think Suguru told him not to say anything careless. Satoru exhaled and opened his eyes. Suguru hadn’t moved from his spot, but now he was openly looking at Satoru, now that Shoko had left. Concern and curiosity danced behind his warm brown eyes. 

“Satoru,” Suguru said his name in such a way that made Satoru’s heart ache and his ears ring. “What happened this morning?”

Satoru blinked, “I don’t know what you mean?” A pause, and then embarrassment crept in, “Oh shit. I said I was sorry. I mean, about the towel. I didn’t- I wouldn-”

“I’m not talking about that.” Satoru’s mouth snapped shut. He cringed inwardly at himself. “I mean, before then. Before I even got there.”

“Like… what do you mean?” There was a lump forming in his throat. He knew what Suguru meant, but he wasn’t going to openly admit to there being a problem. He still needed to figure out what these new abilities meant. How they would reshape his life. It could all be temporary. He was already freaked out; he didn’t need to freak Suguru out, too. 

Suguru sighed, “Satoru, why were there feathers all over your room this morning, and why was your alarm clock smashed?”

Satoru’s mouth went dry. His eyes darted around the room. “Oh! That!” Satoru nodded. “Yeah, there’s a really funny explanation for that…” Satoru trailed off. Unsure of what combination of words would make it all go away. Suguru sat across from him, unflinching. Suguru studied him. Satoru could feel his eyes roving over him meticulously.

“Go on,” Suguru said. He wasn’t giving Satoru an out.  

“Well, you see… I was helping Riko with a science experiment.”

Suguru’s eyebrow arched, “A science experiment?”

Satoru nodded. “Yeah, she’s on a Da Vinci kick. You know how she gets.” Satoru looked at the planes of Suguru’s face. He could see Suguru's jaw working. As if he were chewing on the words Satoru said. His fingers were tapping a repeated pattern on the table. Satoru continued, this time he sounded more confident, “She has a talent for engineering. This one got away from her, but you should see what she can do with a bit of string and a pebble.” 

Suguru sighed and stopped tapping and folded his hands in front of him. Satoru could tell from the tension in Suguru’s shoulders that he had not convinced him. Dread and guilt coiled in Satoru’s gut. Still, he didn’t let his composure crack. 

Even when Suguru smiled at him and said, “Okay, Satoru, try to be more careful in the future.” Suguru paused, taking a breath. Then, as soft as a whisper, he said, “I would hate to see you get hurt.”

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Satoru knew he fucked up. But he didn’t see what other choice he had. How would Suguru react to the truth? He didn’t need to complicate Suguru’s life with his bullshit. Satoru mindlessly stepped out of the way of a biker going too fast on the sidewalk. To think just two days ago, he would’ve been hit in the same situation. Now he avoided things before they even happened. Precognition. Spider-senses. 

He shook his head. The street was too loud, still too bright. He would really need to start bringing his sunglasses with him everywhere he went. He hoped that, eventually, he would get used to the overload of senses soon. It would be a lot easier to cope if he didn’t feel like a nuclear power station on the verge of meltdown all the time. 

When he got to his building, he stopped before entering the lobby. An idea had wormed its way into his head on the walk home. He went to the side of the building, where the fire escape was mounted. His bedroom window opened out to the fire escape. He should be able to enter the apartment through the open window. Thankfully, the weather was still nice enough that he was pretty sure he’d left the window cracked. 

Satoru craned his neck to look up at his building. They lived on the eighth floor, three units in. He walked up to the wall and put his hand on it. He thought sticky thoughts, and then immediately felt stupid and stopped. Sticky thoughts? Am I dead ass right now? He went to put his hand in his pocket, ready to abandon this stupid plan. Instead, his hand remained flush to the brick. 

He smiled and pressed his other hand to the wall. Slowly, he peeled it back, then immediately restuck it. After finding a decent pace, he took it a step further. He ran up to the wall and threw himself at it, hands out. He dangled precariously a few feet off the ground. He tested sticking and unsticking his hands again. Carefully, then, he started scaling the side of the building. Working overtime to keep his breathing leveled and his head cleared. He felt the sun-warmed brick under his palms. It was almost a comfort. He leaned into it, using the sensation to keep him anchored in the moment as he continued his climb.

He’d made it to the halfway point when he started to gain more confidence. Alright, so I’m a natural spidermonkey . He held tight with his left hand and reached up with his right. Faster than he could move, even with his new preternatural reflexes, his left hand started to slip out from under him. He grasped for leverage with his right hand, but caught nothing. The ground came up fast to meet him. Satoru fell hard in a pile of limbs. Okay, so not a natural. He rubbed his forehead with the back of his wrist. Something warm spilled over his skin. His body felt heavy and foreign. His vision blurred. His pulse thrummed loudly in his skull like a cicada in summer. His eyes rolled in the back of his head. Satoru’s last thought was, Suguru is going to kill me if I die like this.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: It's Fine

Tuesday October 6th

Something buzzed against his leg. Satoru cracked open an eye. Bright neon lights flooded his vision. He blinked a few times, trying and failing to dispel the spots dancing in front of his eyes. The buzzing started up again. He patted down his front pocket, looking for the source. His head ached, and his body was sore. God, what did I do?

Satoru finally located his phone. Suguru’s name flashed on the screen. The call timed out immediately. His lock screen stared back at him; a web of cracks that hadn’t been there before. The clock indicated 11:47 pm. He had a dozen missed calls, all from Riko, Shoko, and Suguru. Satoru groaned and tried to sit up. His pulse throbbed against his temple. He folded over his knees and dialed Riko, cutting his thumb in the process. He pressed the cut against his tongue, staunching the welling blood. 

The call rang only once, “Satoru? Oh my God, where have you been? We’ve been trying to find you for hours.” Riko’s voice went shrill at the end; he could tell that she had been crying. A bubble of guilt blossomed in his gut. 

“I’m…” Satoru took in his surroundings. It all trickled back to him. The scratchy warmth of the brick beneath his palm. The thrill of climbing the wall. The fear that clanged through him when he lost his grip. The sharp explosion of pain that followed. Satoru was still in the alleyway. “I’m almost home, I’ll be up in a few minutes.” Not waiting for Riko’s response, Satoru pressed the end call button.

This is going to hurt like a bitch . Satoru gritted his teeth. Using the wall for leverage, he managed to pull himself to his feet. If he thought his head hurt before, it was worse now. His vision slanted, and he slumped face-first against the brick wall. He could smell the iron before he tasted it. Satoru rolled his eyes. He scanned the alleyway for his backpack, but he gave up and headed toward the lobby door. He’d look for it again in the morning when he wasn’t a walking disaster. 

The elevator was out. Satoru cursed under his breath and pivoted towards the stairs. Eight flights should be nothing, now. And he might’ve been right, had he not just splat himself on the sidewalk mere hours ago. His phone started to buzz again, but he ignored it. Satoru needed all of his strength and concentration to climb the stairs. Something hot and wet ran over his eye. He swiped it away on reflex; his hand came away red and sticky.

Satoru groaned. He knew he looked like shit. He was going to be swamped with questions the moment he stepped into the apartment, and that was just Riko. He also had Shoko and Suguru to answer to later. He had flaked on their dinner plans. When Satoru made it to the fourth-floor landing, he stopped to lean against the wall. He stood slightly hunched forward with his hands resting on his bent knees. Ragged breathing tore through him. The left side of his body felt like it was burning. 

An older neighbor passed him by on the landing. Satoru smiled at her as she passed by. She’d lived in the building forever, even before he moved in with his aunt. He remembered seeing her tend the community garden on the rooftop when he’d come to visit Riko when they were younger. His neighbor didn’t return his smile. Instead, she held her purse closer and quickened her steps up the stairs. I must look like the next news headline: Watch out, Granny Napper at large . Satoru sighed and waited until she exited the stairwell. It was only when he heard the soft click of the door that Satoru continued his trek up the stairs. 

Depth perception was not on his side. A stark contrast to how it had been earlier in the day. Everything had appeared to him much sharper. He stumbled up the steps and soon found himself taking another break. With a heavy sigh, Satoru sat on a step halfway up to the sixth-floor platform. His eyes grew heavy, and he tried to blink away the mounting exhaustion. Satoru had never felt this level of bone-deep weariness in his life. He’d overdone it when he tried to scale the wall. 

Up to that point, his day had already been jam-packed with vigorous feats. His body was still adjusting to its new powers. He shouldn’t have pushed himself so far; it was reckless. Satoru leaned his forehead against the railing. Maybe if I just close my eyes for five minutes… He vaguely sensed his phone buzzing against his thigh again, but he was too out of it to care. He just needed a nap, that would set him right. 

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Wednesday October 7th

When Satoru woke up again, a bolt of panic flashed through him. He sat up quickly, far too quickly, his vision swam before him. He blinked slowly, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Satoru was sitting in his bed. He looked down to his left; the mess from before had been fully swept away, feathers and all. Little streams of light filtered through his closed curtains. Heavy breathing filled the open space. It took him several more minutes to realize it was his own; his chest heaving like he had just run a marathon. His heart was trying to flutter out of its cage. 

He flipped back the covers and planted both of his feet on the floor. Someone had swapped his jeans for a pair of joggers. They’d stripped him of his shirt, too. His bare chest reflected in the dim light of the room. I really do have a ghost’s complexion. Satoru ran his hands through his hair, smoothing it back from his forehead. He cringed at the feeling of grime that had built up. He got up and strode across to his mirror. He took a long moment to evaluate himself. Even worn down and beat up, Satoru could see a definitive change in how he looked now versus how he’d looked just the day before.

Blue eyes shone back at him, brighter than they ever had. Almost like a blue flame had been lit behind them. They gleamed back at him, like a cat… or a predator. He could tell there was a difference in his physique as well. He appeared lean, not just skinny. There were muscles corded beneath his skin that hadn’t been there before. Puberty was a joke compared to this; this must be the real deal. Well… minus the super-human abilities.

He flashed his teeth, pulling back his cheeks with his index fingers on either side, and leaned closer to the mirror. They looked straighter, whiter, even. It unnerved him a little. He felt like he was looking at a caricature of himself. One where all of the flaws had been ironed away, all of his quirkiness carved out. Satoru admired himself for a beat longer before turning his attention to the cuts and bruises peppering his body. There was a bruise on the left side of his ribcage, where he suspected he had taken the brunt of his brilliantly stupid fall. Poking it, he winced from the immediate pain that bloomed there, fire bright. His hands were scratched up, too. Most likely from scraping down the brick wall. He noticed several busted nails, also courtesy of the bricks. 

There was a plaster across his temple that Satoru didn’t dare peek under. He could tell that it needed to be changed soon, and that told him all he cared to know. There were dark circles under his eyes; he’d never seen them so pronounced before. It was alarming; it made him feel like he was looking at someone else. Around his nose, he noticed there was dry, crusted blood. It looked like someone had tried to wipe it away, but didn’t want to scrub too hard. Probably in an effort not to wake him. His attention turned toward his door. Who had brought him upstairs? Surely Riko couldn’t have done it herself. Maybe Aunt Misato returned earlier and was able to help. Or maybe -Satoru’s heartbeat picked up. His brain leaped to Suguru. His eyes drew over to his side table. Someone had left his phone there, even plugged it in for him. Suguru…

He walked over to it. With shaky hands, Satoru picked it up. A handful more missed calls glared up at him from his shattered screen. He scrolled through all the texts, his eye catching on one in particular.

Suguru: at least give me a sign that you’re okay.

His heart lurched. Suguru had been worried about him. Well, Shoko and Riko had too. Of course, they were all worried. He’d be worried too if he couldn’t find his friends. He was jumping to conclusions. This one text didn’t mean anything. Suguru just wanted to make sure his friend was okay. Satoru unlocked his phone screen and opened the text chain with Suguru.

6:07 pm

Suguru: did you still want to get soba?

Suguru: if not, just let me know when you get home so I know youre okay. 

7:30 pm

Suguru: satoru, did you make it home yet? let me know when you can. 

7:45 pm

Suguru: pick up your phone, satoru. riko has been trying to call you. 

Suguru: i can’t see your location. did you go to the soba restaurant? im heading there now, wait for me there!

8:52 pm

Suguru: satoru, where are yo?

Suguru: none of us can get a hold of you. your phone just keeps ringing. did you fall aslee on campus? shoko mentioned you fall asleep at the library sometimes. 

Suguru: if youre at the library, stay there. im coming to meet you. 

9:23 pm

Suguru: shoko said youre not at the library or the biology lab. satoru, please pick up the phone. 

9:44 pm

Suguru: have ou always been this inconsiderate? your cousin is fratic. shes at home fearing the worst

Suguru: satoru, please. nswer your god dammed phone

9:52 pm

Suguru: when i find you im beating you ass 

Suguru: i mean it. yo re never hearing the end of it. 

Suguru: satoru, pick up the fuckig phone!

10:37 pm

Suguru: shoko ouldnt find you on cams. shes looking a t the soba restaurant again. 

Suguru: as youll hear in my voicemails, ive been consoling your ousin.

Suguru: shes cried through my shirt. you owe me a ne w one. 

11:15 pm

Suguru: at least give me a sign that youre okay. 

12:15 am

Suguru: what the hell happened to be ing up here in a few minute

Suguru: im leaving again to look for you. 

Suguru: this is unforgivable, you have us all worried sick, Gojo

Suguru: if your dead, im goign to fucking kill you

Shit. Satoru dropped his phone on the mattress. In one quick stride, he had crossed the room. He wrenched open his door and ran down the hallways to the living room. He stopped in his tracks, momentum nearly sending him sprawling. On the couch, curled around a pillow, was Suguru. He was on his shoulder, his long hair obscuring his face. He watched Suguru’s chest rise in an even rhythm. Satoru let out a long sigh through his nose and leaned against the wall. He’s here. He searched for me. He nearly lost his mind over not being able to find me . Satoru knew he should feel guilty, but the unnamed feeling building in his chest drowned it all out. Almost. A sticky thought clung to the inside of his mind. If he’s this worried about me now, how will it be when he realizes I’ll never be able to outrun the danger? He’ll never be able to shield me from it. What happens when Suguru realizes I’ve become something dangerous? 

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Satoru returned to his room to collect his thoughts. It had still been pretty early when he found Suguru sleeping on the couch. Satoru didn’t want to disturb him or Riko, since he’d already caused them enough grief last night. He didn’t want to make their morning difficult, too. He needed to work through whatever tangled mess of feelings he was experiencing. Satoru threw open his curtains and collapsed at his desk. The light didn’t hurt his eyes as much today, he noticed. He could also see way farther than before. 

He could make out individual details of the people meandering on the sidewalk. He could see cute little keychains hanging from the various backpacks of the schoolkids passing by. Satoru could even make out sentences and graphics on the shirts of those passing by. With this much detailed input, I could become Japan’s best I-Spy player. It was a goofy thought that made him smile. Not everything that happened had to feel like it was the end of the world. He was relieved to know he could have fun with it, too. 

His mind kept finding its way back to Suguru. How he’d stayed out all night looking for Satoru. The way he had consoled Riko and made sure she was okay while Satoru was missing. Suguru sent him a chain of texts, threatening messages, but they oozed affection and conveyed how much Suguru cared about him. Smiling, Satoru stretched back in his seat, winding his arms over his head. His smile grew wider the more he thought about it, though the pang of guilt could still be felt. He didn’t want to make Suguru worry. It tore him up that his friend had been so frantic, trying to find him -friend. That’s all they were, just friends. 

Suguru was his friend. His best friend, yes, but still. That was all, all they could be. Plus, Shoko had put in just as much effort to find him. She had searched all over campus and left him plenty of threatening voicemails. Jeez, why are they always threatening me? I could’ve been dead for real! And that was the issue. The realization struck him like a whip. He could’ve died. These abilities -whatever they were, they were really dangerous. Not something to be treated lightly or taken as a game. 

Satoru was caught between the curiosity of wanting to learn more about them and the reality of the danger behind them. He needed to just forget about it all. His powers, his stupid feelings; they’d only complicate his already complex life. Satoru just needed to learn enough to cope and then bury them. If not because of the inherent danger to himself, because of what could happen to someone else, someone he cares about. He’d already hurt Shoko. He’d almost hurt his classmate, too. He didn’t even like him, but that didn’t mean he wanted to hurt him. If he started to blur that line, where would that leave him? Satoru turned away from the thought. 

Clanging pots and pans pulled him out of his head. Suguru and Riko must finally be up. Satoru stood from his chair, and in the blink of an eye, he had already crossed the room. Shit, I need to stop doing that. A creeping dread passed over him, and his stomach dropped as the pendulum of his mind swung back to Suguru. What if he’s still mad at me? Satoru knew Suguru had every right to be upset, but he couldn’t bear the look of disappointment on his friend’s face. 

A light wrapping on his door pulled Satoru away from his thoughts. He reached out for the knob, but the door was already opening. He moved out of its path, but stopped when he saw who now stood in the doorway. Suguru. His breath caught at the sight of him with sleep-tousled hair and drowsy eyes. Suguru was wearing Satoru’s clothes. The sweats were a little too long, and the plain white shirt appeared snug in all the right places. It strained over Suguru’s chest and shoulders.  The door caught Satoru on his left side, and he hissed sharply in pain.

“Satoru?” Suguru asked softly, voice full of concern and thick with sleep, and something else Satoru couldn’t name. The sound made his heart stop. He’s going to make good on his promise to kill me if he keeps talking to me like that.

“Satoru?” Suguru said again, “Are you okay?” His voice was louder this time. 

Satoru blinked, his face flushed fire hot. “I- sorry, what did you say?” His pain was already forgotten, Suguru sticking to his thoughts like gum in long, onyx hair. Was I just ogling my best friend? He really will start to think I’m some kind of creep. Satoru tried to keep his breathing even; he did his best not to give anything else away. 

Suguru cleared his throat and licked his lips. His mind seemed to be somewhere else before he turned his attention back on Satoru. Suguru held his gaze for a second longer than was comfortable. Satoru managed not to squirm; he noticed that Suguru’s cheeks were dusted red. The other man finally looked away, blowing a part of his bangs out of his face. “Riko said that breakfast was almost ready.” Without any other fanfare. Suguru turned heel and walked out of the room. 

Satoru stood there for a moment, smiling stupidly to himself, and feeling absolutely dumbstruck. Was he blushing because he’s nervous, or because he feels the same way? Or was he blushing because he was uncomfortable, because he didn’t feel the same? How the hell do I feel about it? Satoru shook his head. It was too much to consider. He didn’t know what he was feeling. He closed his eyes and thought back to before Suguru left for the States. Is this how he felt back then? Maybe. But back then, it had been so uncomplicated. Suguru had just fit into his life perfectly, like a circle in a children’s puzzle. Now? Satoru didn’t know if what he felt was l- A growling sound cut through the room. His face heated again, despite there being no one else in the room. Well, I can’t expect myself to go through this tangled web of feelings on an empty stomach. 

“Satoru, the eggs will go cold if you don’t get your lazy ass out here! Riko yelled from the kitchen. 

Satoru smiled, at least she’s not crying over him . He walked out of his room and called from the hallway, “I’m trying to be fashionably late, Riko. You wouldn’t understand my artistic vision.” He smoothly slid into his seat at the table, making a conscious effort not to bump into Suguru this time. 

“Is that what you call the stunt you pulled last night? Were you being fashionably late when you didn’t answer any calls or texts, and turned your location off?”

Okay, that was the wrong thing to say . Satoru looked to Suguru for help, but the other man didn’t meet his eye, offering him nothing. “Look! I’m sorry! It won’t ever happen again! I didn’t mean to scare you… I would never make you worry like that. Not after… not after that.” Satoru couldn't bring himself to elaborate more. He didn’t need to. Riko understood, and that was all that mattered anyway. 

“You’re right, you won’t do it again. I’ll never forgive you otherwise.”

If Satoru looked up, he knew what he’d find; tracks of tears running down his cousin’s face. So he didn’t look. Remembering what happened he’d down to the disposable chopsticks yesterday, Satoru pushed away from the table and grabbed a pair of bamboo chopsticks from the drawer. Putting the physical distance between him and the charged conversation also helped clear his mind. By the time he slid back into his seat, Satoru had crafted the perfect mask. 

He wasted no time inhaling his plate. Satoru performed two passes between the table and the stove for additional servings. Even went as far as trying to pick pieces off Suguru and Riko’s plate. Suguru playfully swatted him away, his laugh filling the small space. The sound nestled somewhere behind Satoru’s ribcage, spreading a light, warm feeling through his whole body. 

“Oh my God, Satoru, you have no manners!” Riko snapped at his hands with her chopsticks, in an effort to stop him from stealing scrambled egg. “How are you even eating so much? Are you preparing for some weird nerd hibernation?”

Suguru joined in on her teasing, “Maybe he’s preparing to molt soon, look, he’s alr-”

Satoru choked on the rice he was scarfing down. “Excuse me, I-” he broke off to cough again, “What am I doing?”

Suguru shrugged, “You know, molting. That’s what it’s called when a reptile or bug sheds its skin, they’ve grown too big for it, right?”

Satoru looked at him in horror, “I don’t know whether to be more weirded out that you know what that means, or that you’re picturing it happening to me.”

“I- I am not! I’m not picturing it happening to you!” Suguru defended. Red creeping back over his features. 

Riko laughed so loudly it bounced off the walls. Echoing back to Satoru over and over. It filled him with a different kind of warm feeling than before. He wished he could give her more moments like this. “What’s so bad about Suguru picturing you, Satoru? I thought you’d like it if your high school cru-”

The sound of chair legs scrapped against the floor. Suguru stood abruptly from the table. “My father is calling me. I have to take this.” He quickly strode to the front door and stepped out into the corridor. 

Satoru threw a vicious glare toward his cousin. “What the hell?”

Riko’s lips curled up into a smile, “I didn’t realize it was still a secret.” She said with mock innocence. “I mean, from the way he ran around Tokyo last night trying to find you, -OH! Satoru, you should’ve seen him when he found you in the stairwell.” Riko shook her head, “I thought I’d never get him to calm down. You looked worse than dead, and he had one foot in the grave, ready to follow.”

Satoru scoffed, “Yeah, because he’s my friend !” He put heavy emphasis on the term. 

“I didn’t see Shoko look half as frantic. That’s not how a friend ,” Riko used the same inflection, “acts.”

Satoru didn’t let her words get to him. He just crossed his arms and slouched down in his chair, “Yeah, whatever, Riko. Just drop it.”

Neither said anything for a long while after that. Suguru didn’t return either. He’d sent Satoru a text saying they’d meet up later. Satoru picked at the remaining rice in his bowl, before sighing, and standing from the table. He ran frantic hands through his hair. He needed to get out of this apartment. He needed to get ready for the day. 

“Would it be so bad?”

Satoru turned back to Riko; raising his eyebrows at her question, “What?”

“If you told him how you feel. Suguru isn’t stupid -He knows. He’s just waiting on you to figure it out.”

Satoru shook his head and turned toward the hall again. 

“You still owe me an explanation for last night.” She said to his back. Satoru heard the chair scrape against the floor as Riko stood from the table. “That wasn’t funny. You can’t just-“

Satoru sighed again, “I’m not laughing.” He didn’t wait for her to respond. He returned to his bedroom and collapsed in his desk chair. More confused about his feelings than before; caught in a web of feelings he couldn’t crawl out of. 

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

The lab was hot and stuffy today. Satoru had no interest in the beakers sitting in front of him. He couldn’t focus on anything else besides the sweat running down his back. He sat with his head resting against his hands as he gazed out the window. Shoko and Suguru were probably walking towards the chemistry building. They’d agreed to reschedule their soba dinner for tonight, which he was looking forward to. Although he already knew they were going to try to corner him to get answers out of him. Still, Satoru would rather be with them than cooped up here all day. 

Satoru caught a book that his lab partner knocked off the table. The other student stared at him in stunned silence, but Satoru paid him no mind. His reflexes had been surpassing his conscious thought all day. People had been taking notice. Satoru could feel the stares of the other students prickling the back of his neck; could hear each whispered shred of gossip. Satoru was painfully aware of each one of their movements. It took more energy not to notice; he couldn’t figure out how to tune it all out. So Satoru made no effort to curb his instincts. He shrugged off the thanks from his gawking classmate and stood from his stool. He stretched his back; he was a little stiff from his injuries still, but he was better off than he ought to be. The only one giving him any real trouble was the bruise over his ribs. 

He walked over to the sink to wash his hands. All of the scabs from his fall were gone; most of the busted fingernails healed, too. He fought against rising nausea anytime he thought too much about it. He pushed the thought away and scrubbed at his hands until they turned bright red. Even the gnarly gash on his forehead looked fine. The skin was knitting back together exponentially faster than it should have. Shoko took a look at it earlier; she was astonished by the rapid improvement. Originally, she had argued it needed stitches, but he waved her off. Shoko kept insisting that he still go to get it looked at by an actual physician. 

“I could see your skull,” she had said.

“Nah, I’m way too thick-headed for that, right Suguru?”

Suguru had given him an appraising look. “Far too thick-headed,” he softly laughed and shook his head, “But I agree, you should go get it looked at, your ribs, too.”

  Satoru had crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, “Whatever, I’m fine now.”

It was only the second full day with these abilities, and the secret already had him ensnared in a web of lies. He was a fly waiting for the spider to feast. Satoru hated the bitter taste the lies left behind. 

The hairs on his neck stood on end, and a cold chill ran down his spine. Before he even knew why, Satoru was sidestepping the sink. The emergency shower dumped water over the empty space he left behind. His head snapped up in time to see Naoya slinking away from the wall. Satoru ground his teeth together, trying and failing to quell his rising anger. 

In a flash, Satoru was already behind Naoya, yanking the other guy back by his backpack. No critical thought was necessary for what followed. Satoru simply whirled, positioning Naoya in front of him, the other’s back now facing the still running shower. With a firm shove, Naoya stumbled backwards, arms outstretched, likely so he could drag Satoru down with him. Satoru easily stepped out of reach. Naoya fell on his ass. For a second time, Gojo wasn’t the one being pushed around. He saw the appeal then, the appeal to being a bully. Making someone feel the way you do. He smirked down at Naoya, “You’re looking a little washed there, Zenin.”

The other students in the lab laughed. The water shut off, and Naoya tried to get to his feet, but he couldn’t find any purchase. He slipped and landed on his ass again. Make that three times. Satoru bit his lip to suppress his laugh. He feigned disinterest, which was like pouring gasoline on flames. Naoya’s anger was palpable. “I’d offer you a towel,” Satoru drawled, “But you’re such a hot head, you’ll dry yourself in no time.” With a sickeningly sweet smile and a mocking wave, Satoru grabbed his bag and strode towards the exit. He shoulder checked someone on his way out.

“Satoru?” His head snapped to the side, and he froze, nearly crashing into another person.

“Yo! Satoru, watch where you’re going!” Shoko shouted. 

“Yeah, yeah. Great, let’s get out of he-”

“Gojo! Get your freak ass back here!” Naoya yelled from the lab.

Satoru was halfway down the hallway, “Catch up later, yeah? Gotta blast!”

“Saroru, wait!” Suguru called after him. He didn’t wait; Satoru took off at a sprint. Commotion broke out behind him, but he didn’t dare look. Not until a loud crack rang out, it sounded like bone hitting bone. Like something visceral, cleaving apart. Satoru instinctively knew that he had to turn back. Suguru. Whatever happened, Satoru knew Suguru was at the center of it. Worst-case scenarios rose inside his mind like a tidal wave. All of them involved Naoya hurting Suguru because of him, because Satoru couldn’t keep his anger in check. His body felt dissonant and it moved on its own accord. Not Suguru, please not him. He turned tail and, faster than humanly possible, was back at the doorway of the lab.  

The scene unfolding in front of him didn’t make sense. Shoko was holding Suguru… That wasn’t quite right. He blinked, vision going slanted, eyes focusing on all of the wrong details. Drops of blood smeared on the floor. Someone's ragged breathing, his own? No… Naoya, it sounded wet and painful, like he was droning. Satoru looked at Shoko again. She was holding Suguru back by the arm, using all of her strength to hold him back, but was clearly failing. Her feet kept sliding on the tiles. Naoya was sprawled out on the tiled floor; blood gushed from his nose. It sat at a vomit-inducing angle. Instantly, Satoru felt queasy. His hand moved to his mouth. To hold in a scream or sickness, he didn’t know. 

“Suguru?” Satoru’s voice barely registered in his own ears. He wasn’t even sure he said the name out loud.

“What’d you do to him?” It was Suguru yelling. Satoru looked at him, then down at Naoya. A roaring sound built in his ears. 

Blood trickled down Naoya’s chin, a sadistic smile pulled at his lips. “I didn’t do anything to that freak.” He spit blood right below Suguru’s eye. 

Suguru didn’t wipe it away, he pulled his first back again, preparing to punch Naoya, “What the fuck did yo-” 

“Yo, Suguru, stop it! Whatever he did, you’ll only make things worse!” Satoru watched the scene play out like he was looking in from a window. A whole plane of existence between him and his friends.

“I’ll stop when he tells me what the hell he did!” Suguru pulled from Shoko’s grasp. He was on his knees then, pulling Naoya up by the collar. Suguru moved in close to his face, nearly spitting back at Naoya. “Where the hell were you last night? Did you lay your hands on him? Did you hurt him?” Only the taught tension in his shoulders betrayed his anger. His voice was eerily even, tone low and serious. A contrast to how he’d appeared mere seconds ago. 

Naoya looked barely conscious. He still managed to sneer at Suguru, while lamely trying to pry Suguru’s hands off his collar. Satoru was rooted to the spot; maybe even rooted in another reality entirely. Suguru was defending him? Suguru didn’t even know the context of the situation, yet he jumped to Satoru’s defense. He was defenitely dreaming -surely. In just a few moments his alarm clock would go off. It would be the Monday morning again. Before his field trip. Before the spider bite. Before Suguru. Satoru stepped back until his back hit a wall. 

“Suguru,” Shoko’s wobbly voice cut in, “Let’s just go find Satoru. This isn’t cool, we need to split.”

Suguru violently shook Naoya. He paused for just a moment. He looked right at Satoru. His breathing stopped, Satoru felt like he was experiencing a million tiny deaths in the span of a second. Suguru squinted his eyes, studying the spot where Satoru stood. Suguru shook his head and threw Naoya back, the other guy’s head colliding hard with the ground. “You’re not worth the effort anyways.” Shoko helped Suguru to his feet, then as a pair, they turned to leave. 

Satoru couldn’t breathe. He looked right at me… and then just walked away? Did he realize that I wasn’t worth it? Was he speaking to me and not Naoya? 

Satoru balled up his fists and scrubbed his burning eyes- only to see nothing but open air. He looked down at himself and his heart stuttered again. Satoru had turned invisible again - But Suguru looked right at me… he’d know me blind… surely he knew me now.  

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

The first thing Satoru does is text his friends and Riko that he’s safe, but needs some space. The second thing he does is run across campus. Satoru had his sights set on the communications and journalism building. The tallest building on campus. He found a side entrance and then burst into the first stairwell he laid eyes on.

He leaped up the stairs, taking two, three, sometimes four at a time. When he made it to the top, he burst through the door to the roof. Well, tried to; instead, he smacked face-first into it. He rubbed his forehead and clutched his left side. Damn, this won’t heal. He tried the handle, but it was locked. Satoru rested his head against the cool metal, catching his breath. 

Satoru still felt Suguru’s cool eyes on him. He felt a twisting in his gut. His hand flew to his mouth. I am going to throw up. Bile rose in his throat, and Satoru doubled over. Sweat formed in thick beads across his body. His mouth filled with saliva, and his jaw ached from the force needed to keep it shut. The peaceful quiet of the stairwell was at odds with the ragged sound of his breathing. It pushed in on him, too quiet. Nothing readily available to drown out the noise in his head. 

Losing the battle of wills to his stomach, Satoru stuck his head in the trash can adjacent to him. Not a lot came up. Though he’d had a big breakfast, it had been hours ago by this point. Satoru realized he hadn’t stopped for lunch. Finished, he sank beside the trash can. He scrubbed his eyes. The scathing pressure of tears burned behind his lids, but he refused to let them fall. He’d already lost enough of his dignity today.

He was wound tighter than a spring. At first, Satoru had thought that the encounter with Naoya would help blow off some steam. In the momen,t he felt lighter, but then Suguru… The intricate, confusing web of his emotions thickened. He felt cocooned by them; they pressed in from all angles. He was the prey stuck fast to the soft silk, and Suguru was the spider climbing after him. He had left these feelings behind years ago. He didn’t understand why they had to surface now, after all this time. For just a moment, Satoru wished Suguru had never returned. It was easier to admit this when Suguru wasn’t here, smiling at Satoru and laughing the way he does.

Satoru’s mind flashed back to the way Suguru looked this morning, wearing his borrowed clothes. Heat rose to Satoru’s face when he recalled the way Suguru had said his name, his voice still coated in the dredges of sleep. His fist shot out and struck the brick wall behind him. It didn’t hurt, but he heard the cinderblocks protest. Satoru looked over at the impact spot, his breath hitched. There was a tiny fissure where his fist had met the wall. Not enough to cause any real structural damage, but it was significant enough that the average person would notice. 

Groaning, he climbed to his feet. He paced back and forth, trying to decide how he was going to mend the wall. His shoulders drooped, and he hung his head in defeat. He didn’t know what to do. His phone started to buzz against his thigh, breaking his train of thought. 

He fished around in his pocket and extracted the phone. Sugaru’s name greeted him on the bright phone screen. Dread coiled in his stomach. 

“Hey, Suguru!” Satoru answered, adopting a faux cheery disposition. “I’m still good for Soba if you and Shoko wa-“

“What are you doing at the comms building?” Suuguru asked, effectively silencing Satoru and skipping over any sort of pleasantries. 

With one hand on the back of his neck, Satoru pulled at his hair, “Oh, you know…” He groped around his mind for something to say; anything at all, “I needed to print something?” His voice rose at the end of the sentence, making it more of a question than a statement. 

After a long pause, Satoru heard Suguru adjusting the phone on the other end. He could imagine him tucking it between his shoulder and ear; one hand absently twirling a piece of his hair around a finger. “Satoru, what’s going on?” Suguru’s voice was soft, in his mind’s eye, he saw Suguru's face clear as day. Eyebrows drawn in with concern; lips parted by unsaid words. 

Satoru looked up at the ceiling, then at the metal door leading to the roof. “Nothing, I just needed some space.” It wasn’t a lie. Satoru needed space. He needed time to untangle himself from this web. Needed to caulk the cracks forming in him like hairline fissures. Satoru needed to put himself back on track.

Suguru sighed into the receiver. “Why do I feel like there’s still an ocean between us?”

Satoru’s heart stuttered. White hot anger coursed through him. Irrational. He knew it, yet he couldn’t help but ride the wave of it, “I don’t know, Suguru. Maybe after four years of ignoring me, I’ve forgotten how to talk to you.” Silence settled between them. The phone line crackled with more static. Dread fell on him like a lead weight. Regret filled him up from the soles of his feet to the tips of his ears. Stupid. It’s not his fault you feel like a hormonal, love-sick teenager. God, I really am going through second puberty. 

“I know I owe you an explanation," Suguru said. The oppressive silence swallowed the words whole. 

Satoru felt lightheaded. He could taste bile rising again -no, this felt more like venom. It burned his esophagus raw, fried his tongue; he felt his teeth eroding in a span of a second. He imagined his jaw falling away. Hitting his clavicle on the way down as the skin covering his body fell away to make room for something bigger than himself. I’m molting. “We don't owe each other anything. We’re basically strangers. Four years of silence don’t just disappear because you showed up and caught me before I could eat shit. It doesn’t evaporate like vapor because you try to vanquish my bullies. I can handle myself, so just stay out of it.” Before Suguru could respond, and before Satoru even knew what he was doing, he hurled his phone at the wall. 

For a long time, he just stared at the broken pieces of it. In the disquiet, hysterical laughter bubbled up from his chest. He ran his hands through his hair, his back bent backwards so he was staring at the ceiling. The laughter dissolved into crying. He backed up to the door and slid down to the ground. He looked over at his shattered phone again. There must be a metaphor here somewhere. Something disdainfully poetic like… like there goes what fragile connection I had with Suguru. Shattered. Splintered. Ground into dust that’s begging to be swept away. 

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Satoru headed straight home. Since he broke his phone, he figured the best place to be was his aunt’s apartment. That way Riko knew where he was and didn’t panic over not being able to reach him again. He wanted to avoid that at all costs. He still felt like the world’s biggest dick for putting her through that last night. 

After arriving home and announcing his entrance, Satoru kicked off his shoes. Placing them, for once, on the little stand near the door. Riko peeked her head out of her room and smiled at him, “How was your day? You’re looking a lot better than earlier.” Satoru managed a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. Do I look better than earlier? All I know is I feel worse. Much Worse.

“It was uneventful. Lost my phone though. I’ll need to get a new one when the next check comes in.”

Riko had fully stepped out of her bedroom and was making her way towards the couch. She stopped halfway and glanced back at Satoru, brows drawn together, “What does that mean?”

“What?” Satoru was standing in front of the open fridge now, deciding what leftovers he wanted. There was still leftover ramen from the weekend. It needed to be eaten soon or it would go bad… but there was also tonkatsu that he wanted to have before Riko had the chance to eat it.

“How did you lose your phone?” Riko crossed her arms over her chest. “Satoru, the next check won’t be here for another month, and we’re already in the red.”

Satoru lost his appetite. He shut the fridge, wincing when the jars atop it rattled from the force.  “Already?” He turned to face her, but Riko didn’t meet his eye. “How’d we already spend it all?” Her eyes darted towards a drawer in the kitchen and then finally, up to meet Satoru. Riko didn’t say anything, she didn’t have to. Satoru turned and yanked on the drawer, nearly pulling it off its track. 

“Satoru don’t!” Riko closed the distance and put her arms around his to stop him. “I have already spoken with Auntie . She’s going to figure it out.”

Satoru had already found it though. He shook off Riko, trying and failing to be gentle. She stepped back as he roughly pulled away and grabbed the envelope marked “ATTENTION RESIDENT” in big red letters. He wasted no time pulling the letter out. The words swam before his eyes, he couldn’t make any sense of them. Riko was beside him again, hand reaching out tentatively toward him. “Satoru, it’s alright.” She tried to coax the letter away from him, but his grip tightened, nearly tearing it. 

“How can you say that?” He turned on Riko, still moving far too quickly, too haphazardly. Too choppy not to be noticeable. It was like he was being animated out of sync with the rest of the frame. He was moving on twos, while the rest of the world glided smoothly past on ones.

Riko’s eyes were glassy and too full of raw emotion for Satoru to bear. “Have you been having panic attacks again?” She asked, her voice was too quiet. The feather-lite touch of her fingers around his arm made him cringe. Too soft, too quiet. There was nothing to anchor him here beyond the frantic fluttering of his heart. 

If only the last 48 hours could be explained away with a panic attack. “No… It’s nothing. Riko, when were you going to tell me?”

Riko shook her head. “I didn’t want to bother you; you need to stay focused on school.” She whispered. 

Satoru turned on her, “I need to know this stuff, Riko! I am the one charged with taking care of you. I need to know what’s coming!” He ran his hands through his already disheveled hair. “I can’t protect you if I don’t know you’re in danger.” Riko dropped her gaze and nodded. Satoru sighed, “But you’re right. We’ll figure this out; we’ll do it together.” 

He gave a false smile. Riko didn’t smile back. Her eyes were still too wide and full of concern. The bile was back, rising like a tidal wave at the back of his throat. He swallowed around it and smiled wider, projecting cheery, happy thoughts. “Really, Riko. It’s okay. It will all work itself out.”

I’ve been sulking about like a confused love-sick fool while Riko has been shouldering this alone. It’s inexcusable. I was out playing at stupid children’s games. Thinking I was what? Some kind of super-hero? All the while she was here, fearing the worst for me and carrying this burden alone. Unforgivable. 

Riko still seemed reluctant to believe him, but she gave him a watery smile. “Okay,” she nodded. 

  He wrapped his arm around her in a tight embrace. He grinned down at her, “What, you cryin?” He asked and laughed. Tendrils of dread loosening just a little. 

She shoved him away and stuck her nose up in the air, “No! There’s just a little dirt in my eye!”

Satoru ruffled her hair and Riko tried to swat him away, “Yeah, whatever you say.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Can’t ever have a heartfelt moment with you, can I?”

He shook his head, “That would require me to have a heart.”

Riko rolled her eyes, “You’re the biggest bleeding heart I know, Satoru.” 

He didn’t reply. Satoru left her comment hanging in the air between him. It subterfuged all of the already chaotic feelings inside them. “I’m going out for a bit, don’t wait up. You look tired.”

Riko reached out for his hand and gave it an affirming squeeze. “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know? We’re supposed to do this all together, you literally just promised we would!” 

Satoru was already at the door; the words clung to him like thorns. “I mean it, get some sleep.”

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Satoru walked the streets with no real destination in mind. The weight of the conversation with his cousin still sat heavily on his shoulders. He didn’t know what to do. He needed to find a job that he’d be able to balance with his school work. His Aunt had worked too hard to ensure he’d be able to pursue his dreams; he couldn’t just drop out. It’d kill her spirits. 

The bright sign of the 7/11 convenience store illuminated Satoru’s path. There was a wooden lamp post that was plastered with various ads and help-wanted signs. His eye instantly caught on one. Satoru stepped up to get a better look. “GACHINKO FIGHT CLUB” read an exuberant font. He read on: “Win big prize money! Fights held weekly on Saturday nights!”

Satoru tore the poster down and held it out in his hands. “This is so stupid…” He muttered. Stupid -yes, but yet it has potential to solve all of my problems.

Chapter Text

Saturday October 10th

It’d been three days since Satoru had spoken to Suguru. Three days since he went to class. Three days since he found out that Riko and he could be evicted. Three days since he’d spotted the fight club poster. And five days since he was bitten by a radioactive spider that upended his entire life. 

Currently, Satoru was pacing the floor of his bedroom. He was going to wear down a groove in it if he didn’t switch up his path. I’ll just dig myself another hole. He didn’t have a phone, so it made it easier to dodge Shoko. She rarely left campus these days, always having a lab to attend, a study session, or other commitments. Suguru was harder to avoid. He’d been by the apartment several times. Riko did her best to fend him off, but she was growing tired of it.

“Just talk to him. You can’t leave him in the dark forever.” Was her new catchphrase. 

“It’s not that simple.” He tried to defend. 

“No, Satoru, it is that simple, you’re just too dense to realize.” She had shouted, completely over his melodrama. 

Yesterday, Suguru had stood at their door for 30 minutes. Riko wasn’t home to feed him any excuses. Satoru ignored him; he’d put noise-canceling headphones on and sat in his dark closet. Unfortunately for Satoru, his hearing was immaculate now. He could still hear the knocking over the 2000s garage band music he played. He simply did his best to ignore it, and eventually Suguru gave up.

Maybe Satoru was being dense, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Part of him knew he was being irrational. He wasn’t even sure what he was upset about. Was he really this worked up about four years of silence? It’s not like they had made any promises. None they both formally acknowledged, at least. Shoko didn’t seem upset about it, and she and Suguru had been just as close, right? Those two had known each other first; had met long before Satoru transferred to their high school. 

Maybe it was what Suguru said at the science institute that stuck with him. You don’t just show up after four years of nothing and say things like that. Satoru could be angry over that. Or perhaps, it was the way Suguru said his name. Like it was a beginning and an end, soft and endearing. 

If I really meant that much… then he would’ve made me a priority. He would’ve found a way to reach out. He wouldn’t have left me behind like unwanted leftovers forgotten to rot in the fridge. Satoru felt he at least had the right to be upset over Suguru beating the shit out of the Zenin guy. How could he act so recklessly? Right after, he asked me not to be careless. How the hell am I supposed to feel when he acts like that? 

The four years of silence were the common denominator. It sat completely at odds with all of the numerators. None of the quotients were whole numbers. It made no sense to him. Everything Suguru had done since he returned opened an untapped well of emotions that Satoru didn’t even know he had. It pissed him off. He decided it was simply better to ignore it.

So Satoru continued to pace. 

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

It was well into the evening now, and the sun had fully set by the time Satoru arrived in Tochigi, where the fight club was located. He’d told Riko that he was meeting up with some classmates for a final study session before midterms. That’s what I should be doing tonight. Instead, I’m out here being reckless and stupid… but even so… if I can make some good money tonight, it would buy Auntie just a little more time to figure everything out.

Satoru stood outside a chain-linked fence, watching people enter and exit. The fight club was housed in an abandoned multi-story parking garage. A bouncer stood at the door and was… dressed like a panda? Satoru tilted his head, trying to figure out why the hell someone would be dressed like a panda. He laughed to himself, shaking his head. Okay, I’m just stalling. I’m not going to make any money standing out here.

He leaned over to look at himself in a car’s side mirror. His features were fairly unique, and he didn’t want to stand out. He wore a frumpy blue and grey tracksuit and a black sock hat to cover his white hair. He wore an old pair of ski goggles to cover his eyes. Thank God for the enhanced sight, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to see shit. Satisfied with his reflection, he headed towards the entrance.

He looked at the crudely drawn map on the back of the flyer. He supposed he was headed in the right direction. The entrance for fighters was on the other side. He spotted a warm lamp illuminating the silhouette of a door. Another bouncer, also dressed as a panda, stood in front of it. The bouncer immediately held out a paw… a hand? Seriously, what is with these guys? The panda bouncer looked Satoru up and down, “And what are you supposed to be?”

Satoru’s lip twitched, but he smoothed out his expression, "Tonight's winner.” Satoru flashed an award-winning smile.

The panda bouncer guy burst out laughing. Satoru didn’t let it get to him. “I’m serious. Where is the sign-up sheet?” He asked, trying his best to look around the panda mascot to get a glimpse inside. All Satoru could see, though, was the glow of neon lights. The panda kept laughing; he was hunched over at this point. His hands were on his knees, supporting him through his laughter. Satoru’s eye twitched, and his patience snapped. “And just what the hell are you supposed to be, then?”

The panda immediately stopped laughing, “What’s that supposed to mean?” Even through the costume, Satoru could tell the bouncer was angry.

Yeah, Gojo, piss off the mystery guy who’s probably ripped and could tear you apart on a whim. Great idea. He’ll rock my shit before I even know what’s happened to me. Satoru waved apologetically between them. “I didn’t mean anything by it!” He rushed out. Although he couldn’t see the bouncer’s face, Satoru was keenly aware of this dude’s gaze burning into him. “I w-I was just admiring your… attire? What I mean is-”

“Stop messing with him, Panda.” Someone else cut into the conversation. 

“Kirara! You’re always ruining my fun. You gotta let me poke fun at the fresh meat! I should vouch that they can handle a battle of wills before they enter the ring.”

Satoru couldn’t see Kirara from where he stood, but he could hear her well enough. “You’re so silly, you know that?”

The bouncer stepped out of the way. In the doorway stood the person he presumed to be Kirara. She had quite a few facial piercings; she had a really cool punk rock aesthetic going on. She smiled and waved Satoru forward, “What’s your name?”

Satoru moved forward and bowed, “Hey, I’m Go-”

Kirara laughed, “Jeez, you really are new to this. I don’t mean your full government name, grandpa, I mean your stage name.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, I knew that.”

Kirara rolled her eyes, “Sure you did, well- let’s hear it then.”

Satoru glanced down at himself. He didn’t even have an idea. I guess it makes sense to want to fight under an alias… I’m not even sure if this club is legal. Gotta think of something cool like… Satoru turned to Kirara, inspiration lit like a match inside him, “Ghost.”

She gave him a small smile, “Because of your complexion?”

“Yeah, kinda. It’s just a name my friends tease me with.”

Kirara nodded in understanding. “Okay, and what’s your story?”

“My story?” Satoru asked.

“Yeah, like, your background.”

“Like, for real?” 

 Kirara’s nose scrunched when she smiled at him again, “You’re really funny, you know that?”

“Thanks?” Satoru wasn’t sure if it was meant as a compliment or not.

“I think I’m going to like you. We can work on the story later, think DnD, okay?” Kirara led Satoru farther into the parking structure. “I think I have the perfect fight for you tonight,” she said, turning to grin at him.

“Oh great, yeah? I’m excited!” he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet behind her.

“Yeah! We just have to go over some rules.”

“Right like, no killing, I hope. No gravely injuring another fighter, stuff like that, yeah?”

They walked through the old parking garage. Bright, buzzing neon lights hung everywhere. Their lights left Satoru blinking away spots from his eyes. Smoke clung coily in the air. He could taste it in his mouth, but he tried not to make his discomfort obvious. Kirara led him back to a make-shift office full of security cameras. “Stuff like that, exactly!” She sat down in a big spinning chair at the desk and gestured towards a seat across from her for Satoru to take.

He sat down, “I’m grateful for this opportunity.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Kirara smiled again while she shuffled through the contents of the desk. “Unfortunately, you missed the big boss; he had business to deal with elsewhere.”

“Oh, that’s okay, there’s always next time, I suppose.” Satoru’s hair on his neck stood on end. He ignored it, bringing a hand up to clasp his neck instead. It’s just nerves.

 Kirara pulled something out from the desk, a photo. A really tall guy with messy black hair stood in it. A cigarette was hanging out of his mouth, and his lips had a scar running down them. This dude is huge… like beefy and buff. Kirara slid the photo towards him, “This will be your opponent, he’s our reigning champ at the moment.”

Satoru shook his head, “You can’t be serious.”

Kirara smiled again, fishing out a carton of cigarettes. She offered one out to him. Satoru shook his head. Kirara shrugged, pulling a stick, she stuck it between her lips and lit it. “Oh, I am serious, but don’t worry. I don’t expect you to win against him or anything.”

Satoru stood from his chair. “This guy could kill me! Look at him: He’s huge! He could pop my head off using only his pectoral muscles.”

Kirara laughed, “He really could, too!” She wiped her eye and said, “You misunderstand me. It wouldn’t be a real fight.”

“What?” Satoru stood there, gaping at her. “What do you mean, not a real fight?”

“It would only be a show.” She waved her hand in the air, “You’ll walk away with a few bruises, certainly. But only enough to be convincing. Then you’ll pocket 12% of the prize pool.”

“You mean I just need to stand there and let this guy wallop me? Satoru asked, tilting his head to the side to look at the photo of his opponent. I’ve seen this guy somewhere before…

“No, you’ll need to put on a convincing show. There wouldn’t be much entertainment behind just watching some kid get the shit beat out of them. Make the audience root for the underdog, then tap out.”

 A show, that’s all it needed to be. He might get a little hurt, but he had superhuman healing now; what were a few black eyes and a split lip once in a while? And the money. 12% of the money pool, that’s better than a guaranteed zero.

“Why me? This seems like your prime time show of the night. Why give this slot to some random kid off the street?” The whole situation was too good to be true. Satoru had to make sure he wasn’t getting involved in something he couldn’t get out of later. He couldn’t put himself in jeopardy like that. If he got hurt, who would be there for Riko? He couldn’t just accept this at face value.

“I like you. I see something great in you that others in your shoes just lack.” Kirara gave him a warm, genuine smile. 

Satoru felt a breath loosen in his chest that he didn’t even realize he was holding. Satoru thought it over. This is so reckless, so fucking stupid. I should go home. Satoru shook his head and then stuck out his hand. “20%.” 

Kirara had a glint in her eye; he’d been wrong earlier. Her eyes looked like a predator… his looked like the eyes of a bunny in comparison. “17%, because I like your spunk.” She said, clasping his hand tightly. The strength behind it shocked him. Satoru wasn’t prepared, and a gasp escaped his lips.

“My what?” Satoru blinked at her.

She didn’t answer his question, just laughed and said again, “You’re so funny.” She jumped up from her seat and clapped her hands. “Okay, let’s get you down to the ring?”

Satoru took an uncertain step back, “Like, you mean right now?”

Kirara smiled and stepped out from behind the desk. She closed the distance between them, throwing an arm around his shoulders, “Ghost, we are going to have so much fun together. Just trust me to take care of you, yeah?”

A lump had formed in his throat, but Satoru nodded and allowed Kirara to escort him out of the room.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Satoru wasn’t given anything beyond the instructions to stay in a small, cramped room until summoned. The crowd waiting on the other side of the partition was loud and restless. Satoru’s hair stood on end again; he did his best to ignore it. He was just nervous, which was more than valid. 

Before she left him alone, Kirara had told Satoru the name of his opponent. Fushiguro… He felt like he had heard the name before, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember. He shook out his limbs. He needed to be limber and literally roll with the punches, or he could actually get hurt. He pushed the thought away.

Satoru just needed to ground himself in the moment. He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly released it through his mouth. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and pushed back his shoulders. No spider business, Gojo. Can’t afford a slip-up here.

He heard the announcer on the rigged-up sound system. He was droning on about the previous fights held that night. Satoru tuned out until his ear caught on to the name Butcher… Fushiguro. Wait, isn’t that the guy wh-

The partition fell away, and suddenly, Satoru was surrounded by a screaming crowd. Even through the tempered goggles, the ring was too bright. Floodlights surrounded the fighting area. He stood there, with his mouth open, staring at the crowd. There were far more people than he had anticipated. 17% of the money pool… He couldn’t even comprehend it. That could set us up for a year. Maybe longer, I can’t afford to screw this up.

Ushers wearing unique kitsune masks approached him. They waved Satoru forward and up to the rickety steps of the ring. His body moved on autopilot; he ducked under the thick, worn rope. Before he knew it, he was staring down a wanted criminal. Fushiguro stood in the opposite corner from him. He was even bigger in person. Satoru couldn’t fully grasp the disparities between them. The crowd roared in the background, obviously enticed by the prospect of violence. Satoru’s hands were slick with sweat, and he covertly wiped them off on his track pants. 

Satoru planted his feet shoulder-width apart. How did it only occur to me now that I haven’t got a clue how to fight? I’ve only ever been on the receiving end of this shit. His heart thumped erratically as the rowdiness of the crowd increased. Fushiguro, across from him, cracked his neck, rolling it left to right. He smirked at Satoru, and realization finally set in. I do know this guy… it was him-

An airhorn went off, and his opponent charged him. On instinct, Satoru flipped backwards onto one of the ring’s posts. The crowd cheered for him. He smirked to himself. Did I just- He didn’t have time to think. For as quick as his reflexes were, Fushiguro easily matched pace. Satoru’s mind went fuzzy, adrenaline and the pure animalistic instinct screaming at him to get the fuck out of there were clouding every cognitive thought.

He leapt from one post to the next, but Fushiguro was faster than Satoru had anticipated. The other man grabbed him by the ankle. Thump! Satoru’s head collided with the ground. His air supply abandoned him, and the sound of the crowd grew muffled from the loud ringing in his ear. Satoru didn’t get a second to recover; instantly, Fushiguro was there, yanking him up by the collar of his tracksuit. 

Satoru closed his eyes. Shit. Shit. Shit. OK. Breathe. I can do this, just- He reared his head back and threw it forward again. A cracking sound split through him. Fushiguro dropped him instantly, hands coming up to cup his nose instead. Satoru wasted no time putting distance between them. Fushiguro dropped his hands and smirked. He barely looked stunned. Satoru stared at him with wide eyes. The crowd was eating it up, their volume vying for attention over the ringing still peeling in his ears. This isn’t real, this fucking guy… I just need to last a little longer. Just need to put on a good show is all. Fushiguro’s grin stretched wide, showing all of his teeth, and stretching out his scar. I headbutt him, and this maniac is really standing there grinning like a fucking schoolgirl. 

Fushiguro’s lips moved, but Satoru couldn’t make out what he was saying over the frenzy of the crowd. Satoru shook his head, “Huh?”

His opponent was still smiling. Fushiguro stepped closer. "You’re strong for a shrimp.”

Satoru blinked at him, “I’m actually a ghost.”

Fushiguro scratched his head and fixed Satoru with a blank stare, “Well, that makes this easier.”

“What?”

Fushiguro didn’t respond. He lunged forward for his next attack. Satoru dropped low to avoid him, then swept out his leg to try to trip him. Fushiguro moved back immediately, dodging his offensive tactic. He laughed, it was loud and carefree, and the crowd joined him. The sound crashed over Satoru, and he retreated to one of the posts. What is with this guy, seriously?

Satoru shook his head again, I’m just going to move in. He’s fast, but so am I. He jumped from the poster, leg out, aimed for Fushiguro’s stomach. For a moment, Satoru thought he actually managed it. He was in the air, but the next moment Fushiguro grabbed his ankle and flipped him on his back. Bang! Satoru hit hard again, this time stars burst behind his eyes.

Fushiguro was on top of him then. Straddling Satoru’s hips, hands wrapped around the porcelain smooth skin of Satoru’s neck. Satoru managed a smile and croaked, “How’d you know I like it rough?” Fushiguro smirked and applied more pressure. This is getting uncomfortably close to actually killing me. Satoru clawed at Fushiguro’s arms, but the other man wouldn’t let go. Satoru then remembered a video he’d seen on self-defence. He reached forward and sank his thumbs into Fushiguro’s eyes. Satroru couldn't even hear the crowd over the pounding of his own heart. Fushiguro let go for a split second, but that was all he needed to rock forward and tackle him.

Fushiguro, beneath him now, laughed. “They really outdid themselves this time.” 

Satoru looked down at him, “What?” 

Fushiguro smirked again and, in one swift motion, threw Satoru off of him. He hit one of the pillars with his back. He slumped over, tasting iron on his tongue. This fucking guy…

“You’ve been fun, but I have a job to do,” Fushiguro said, approaching Satoru slowly. The crowd still cheered on around them. He wrapped his hand around Satoru’s ankle and pulled him forward so he was lying flat on his back.

Fushiguro’s foot was on his sternum, grinding in his heel. Satoru couldn’t breathe. He lost focus. “Looks like you're just a bug now. Been a while since I had the chance to squish someone. Do you think you still bleed red?” He leaned in closer to Satoru. The scent of stale beer made his head spin more. 

“Dunno, let’s find out,” Saotru wheezed. He spat at Fushiguro. Red-stained saliva landed on Fushiguro’s hands. 

He laughed again. “You’re going to regret that, bug.” Fushiguro applied more force to Satoru’s sternum.

Satoru weakly clawed at Fushiguro’s calf, trying to imbalance him. Am I going to die here? Is he really going to squish me like a common house spider? Unconsciousness floated at the edges of his mind. I could just close my eyes. Maybe I’d finally get some much-needed rest.

The crowd fell away, replaced by an unprovoked memory of Riko and him from years ago. He’d only been living with her and Auntie for a few months at that point. He hadn’t been able to sleep; too many memories were waiting to drag him beneath their current. He’d been sitting on their balcony, and Riko had heard him crying. She’d come out to check on him. 

“Does it get easier?” He’d asked.

“What?” She was leaning on the railing, looking down below them.

“The missing them, the guilt of being left behind?” 

She turned and studied him. He knew she was weighing her words carefully. Looking back now, it was an unfair question. Though they shared similar experiences, he was the older cousin. He shouldn’t have leaned on her for support; he had a hard time regretting it, though. “The weight never gets any lighter, but you get stronger. You learn to bear it.”

You grow stronger. You learn to bear it. Satoru had grown stronger, but it still wasn’t enough to carry the weight of his past and his present at the same time. But I could be. I could be the strongest, someone who brings smiles to the faces of the people I love. 

All at once, the fight came back into focus, and the roaring of the crowd returned. His body moved too quickly; Satoru couldn’t comprehend it. A second ago, his sternum was caving in from the weight of Fushiguro’s foot. Now he stood on one of the posters situated behind Fushiguro. Satoru had no idea what it looked like to the people watching, but their cheers grew louder. Fushiguro turned around in a slow circle. “How did you do that?”

“Trust me, big guy, I’m wondering the same thing myself.”

Fushiguro lunged for Satoru, but missed. Satoru smoothly leapt to the next poster. “Dude, chill, I’m just here for rent money.” His opponent leapt again, managing to ensnare Satoru’s ankle. Jesus, this guy and ankles. You’d think it’s the 16th cent- Satoru fell flat on his back. Shit. He recovered quickly, rolling forward and away from Fushiguro.

When Satoru looked back at the Butcher again, he was laughing. “They’ve finally managed it.” He ran his hands down his face, and Satoru took another step back. “This changes nothing.”

Satoru ignored him and dashed forward. Fushiguro planted his feet firmly on the ground, prepared to combat whatever Satoru had planned. He couldn’t prepare for this, though. On demand, Satoru turned invisible, ducking as Fushiguro’s arms came down to grab him. He slid on his side, using his leg to sweep Fushiguro off his feet. Corporeal again, Satoru lunged at Fushiguro. He used his legs, and he put the bigger guy in a headlock. 

The audience ate it up. They cheered and whooped. A smile pulled at Satoru’s lips. It took only a few seconds for Fushiguro to recover and successfully buck Satoru off. Effortlessly, Satoru jumped back up on one of the posters. Fushiguro zeroed in on him and scratched the back of his head. “Thought you’d be another simpering brat, but it looks like Ryomen Tech really did it.”

Satoru’s spine went rigid. “What?”

Fushiguro smiled, “I have orders not to kill you, but I think I’ll do it anyway for the thrill.” Satoru blinked, and then Fushiguro had a hold of him, a small blade drawn and pressed against Satoru’s neck. Fushiguro leaned in close to Satoru; he could feel the man’s breath tickle his neck. Fushiguro smelled like stale beer and sweat. The stench was all-encompassing, filling all the space between them. His whispers sent chills running through Satoru’s body. “The longest race in the world, finally at an end. The perfect soldier. The perfect weapon.” Hysterical laughter bubbled up from Fushiguro. The crowd sat still, everyone collectively holding their breath. What the fuck is this guy talking about?

Satoru used Fushiguro’s self-distraction to his advantage. He shoved hard with his shoulder, catching him off balance. The older man let go of him, and Satoru used the opening to push him off the poster. Fushiguro crashed to the ground. He thrashed around before clambering to his feet again. The crowd cheered. I need to get out of here. I knew this was a bad idea from the beginning. This was so stupid; so fucking stupidly reckless.

Satoru stared down at the Butcher, who glared at him in turn. Move idiot. He’s going to climb back up here. He’s going to fucking kill you. Suddenly, as if on cue, the floodlights cut out, plunging the arena into darkness. Screams ripped from the crowd, but all Satoru could really focus on was the pounding of his own heart. He could still see exceptionally well, even with the power cut. Fushiguro now stood with his back facing him, looking up towards the top of the stands. Satoru could also see members of the audience climbing over each other in a panic to get out of the arena. 

Shouting bounced around him. People worried that the power outage was caused by the police; others claimed that it must’ve been caused by the yakuza. Satoru turned his attention to where Fushiguro was staring off in the distance. There, he could make out Kirara standing with her arms crossed over her chest. She looked pretty pissed. She was flanked by two bouncers who were also dressed as pandas. Another person stood beside her, but Satoru didn’t recognize him.

  His breathing was ragged and echoing in his ears. Sweat lay thick on him like a heavy comforter. Satoru prayed that he had a grasp on his invisibility and hopped down from the pillar. I need to get the fuck out of here… He ran for his life. 

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Satoru ran all the way to the train station, and then cursed under his breath when he realized the time. Still, he had to retrieve his backpack that he had left in one of the bathroom air ducts. 

He ordered a taxi at the payphone and waited outside the station. He’d ditched the sockcap and the jacket for his tracksuit, but he was still sweating bullets. His chest still heaved as his lungs pulled in oxygen greedily. He ripped off the goggles from his face and shoved them in his bag. Immediately, the world became too bright. He tried to gulp down air again, but it was no use. He felt far too overwhelmed. He used his hands to shield his closed eyes from the world around him.

I almost died, and I don’t even have anything to show for it. Satoru hugged his knees tightly to his chest. He’d collapsed against a nearby lamp post. He felt the weight of the world crashing down on him. His heart strained under it. The only person he wanted to talk to now was Suguru. After giving Satoru an earful on how stupid and dangerously reckless this all was, Suguru would be able to look at it with a calm, level head; an objective eye. Suguru would reassure Satoru that there wasn’t anything to worry about; that they would be able to figure this out together. Satoru shook his head, dispelling the thought. It was stupid; the imaginings of a child. 

His taxi pulled up, and Satoru got to his feet. Something about the cab made him nervous, but he wasn’t sure why. He was half convinced it’d be better just to wave the driver off and order another, but he was too bone-tired to wait any longer. If it turned out to be a murderer, Satoru was pretty sure he was still wired enough to take on whatever danger was waiting for him.

Satoru slid into the back of the cab. He sat right behind the driver. There was someone else sitting up front. They took a drag of their cigarette and tapped it out the window. Satoru didn’t tell the cab driver anything, but he pulled off the curb and eased into the nighttime traffic. Satoru studied the door, but there were no visible locks. I could always kick it if I really gotta bail. He leaned forward, “Hey, so I live pretty far, actually-”

“That was quite the show,” the woman with the cigarette cut in.

Satoru’s spine went rigid. His heart beat picked up again, and he struggled to keep his breathing even. He managed an uninterested tone and responded, “I don’t know what you mean.”

The woman turned back to look at him. She had pale skin and a chin-length bob cut. It appeared to be mostly white, but there was a bit in the back that seemed darker. Satoru couldn’t really tell what the color was from the lack of light in the cabin. She smiled at him, flashing all of her perfectly straight white teeth that almost seemed to give off their own glow. “There’s no sense in lying when both of us know the truth, Gojo.”

“How do you know my name?” Satoru demanded. The car hit a bump, and his head hit the low ceiling. 

“Belt up. I’m not in the mood for pushing your regenerative abilities tonight.”

Satoru scoffed and didn’t put his seatbelt on. “What the hell are you yapping about, lady? It’s been a long night. I just want to go home.”

“Ah, yes. You have to get back to the apartment you share with your younger cousin.” Satoru tried not to react to her words. The woman faced forward again. A snap of her fingers had Satoru’s belt fastening itself. Fuck. Not good. 

“She has a good head on her shoulders, your cousin. Good grades, active in school, and the community. She’s got the potential for a bright future.” He froze again. How did they know so much about Riko? 

The woman faced him again. “I read her file,” she shrugged, answering his unvoiced question. What else do they know… better question, who the hell is this person? 

“Who are you?”

“Not important right now.” The bob-woman rummaged through a bag and handed back an envelope to Satoru. He numbly took it; the envelope was yellow and stuffed to bursting. “For tonight, you ran out before collecting your prize. Oh, and take this,” she rummaged around some more before producing a brand new phone. “You’ll need it if we are to keep in touch.”

Satoru knocked the phone from her hand and tossed the envelope back at her. “I don’t need anything from you, thanks. You can drop me off here.” He jutted his chin out to indicate a random street corner. Satoru didn’t even know where they were, but he knew he couldn’t spend a moment longer in this car with this ominous stranger. God only knew where she planned to take him.

The driver ignored him. The woman continued, “Gojo, you’re going to make this far more difficult than it needs to be.” 

Suguru gritted his teeth. “Do you work for that tech company the Butcher mentioned?” The woman didn’t respond. Satoru continued, voice shaky, “Are you the reason I’m…” He shook his head. Saying it out loud just makes it feel real. This isn’t real. It can’t be. “Look, I didn’t want this. It was a freak accident. I shouldn’t-”

“Everything is by design.” The woman was still looking forward. She pointed to the sidewalk. “Drop him off there.” The car stopped, and the door opened on its own.

Satoru paused. She’s just letting me go? The lady turned to face him again. Her face was void of expression. All of her features in that moment looked painted on. She appeared as still as a porcelain doll.

“Take the money, or don’t.” She held out another phone to him. “Rent will be the least of your concerns if you don’t comply.” 

Is she threatening me right now? Like for real? Satoru scrambled to collect his things, fully prepared to leap out of the car and put this bizarre encounter behind him. He paused on the threshold. Riko once again appeared to him in his mind’s eye. I need the money; I need it to keep a roof over our head. I can’t risk Riko like this. Satoru understood something fundamental in that moment. Whoever these people were, they were extremely dangerous. They knew far too much about his private life. If he wanted to keep Riko safe, he would have to cooperate with them. 

Satrou sighed and glanced up at the perpetually starless sky. He snatched the phone out of the mystery woman’s hand and shuffled out of the car. The door immediately slammed shut, nearly catching his backpack. The driver’s window rolled down, and out came sailing the envelope of money. It landed at Satoru’s feet, tauntingly. “Good choice. We’ll be in touch.” The window sealed shut then, and the driver merged effortlessly back into the nighttime traffic. 

There was a numb sensation spreading through his body. He dumbly stared after the car until it was well past his LOS. What the actual fuck is happening right now? Is this my fucking life now? Like for real? His hand was over his chest, fist balling up the fabric of his shirt. His other hand hung uselessly at his side, clutching the new phone close to shattering. His chest ached, and his lungs suddenly couldn’t draw in enough oxygen. How do I come back from this? What kind of sick fucked up plot am I caught up in? How did I go from being an honors student to a pawn in some shadow conspiracy in less than a week? 

Cold, damp concrete bit into his knees; his legs had finally given out. The last of the adrenaline slipped away from his body. There was a loud noise Satoru couldn’t place. The few pedestrians walking past quickly moved to avoid him. It took Satoru a few more rapid beats of his heart to realize the noise was coming from him. He was gasping for air like a fish out of water. The phone fell to the ground next to the envelope as he hunched over, fists digging into his eyes as he tried to find any sensation to ground him in the moment. Suguru. 

The other man’s steady hands on Satoru. The way his voice never failed to lighten his spirits. His laugh, the way it rings so pretty in Satoru’s ears. Suguru’s hair, the way it falls from his half-bun and tickles Satoru’s skin when their close to each other. Satoru shook his head. No. No, not Suguru. Because for every good thing there is about Suguru, there’s also the four years of silence standing there casting it in an ugly darkness. Satoru spiraled from there. Hands moving up to scrape at the skin on his neck, higher to tug at his hair.

Satoru found himself back in the ring. The Butcher loomed over him. He felt the Butcher’s hands on his throat, crushing his windpipe; Fushiguro’s heel digging into his sternum. His words bounced around Satoru’s skull, the perfect weapon; they echoed painfully over and over. Satoru was panting, hands moving to shield his ears pathetically. Satoru couldn’t think, couldn’t- he braced his hands on the sidewalk as he emptied the meager contents of his stomach. 

His eyes screwed shut, and sweat covered his whole body in a thin sheen. Tears managed to escape down his cheeks, and his body was racked with shivers. I don’t- I can’t. I can’t do this. Oh my god. A sob escaped his mouth. I need to go home, but- God, I- I can’t. He tried to recall any of the breathing exercises his old therapist had taught him back when he had awful panic attacks. Satoru took a deep breath and held it, then slowly released it. It helped a little bit, but he had dissolved into a fit of hiccups. 

His throat burned from the bile he had spit up. His hands pressed into the concrete, trying to ground himself. He wiggled his toes in his shoes, concentrating on how they felt. His mind cleared a little more; enough that he was able to wobbly get to his feet. He collected his scattered items from the ground and shoved them in his bag. Satoru turned the phone over in his hand; he was fairly certain that it was the latest model. Unsurprising, but still extremely alarming, the phone unlocked automatically with his face ID. 

He caught his reflection in the phone screen. It shouldn’t have, but it shocked him just how disheveled he truly looked. It was no wonder pedestrians were still giving him sideway glances and avoiding stepping anywhere near him. Satoru wiped off a bit of spit and bile from the corner of his mouth. He took another deep breath and then navigated to the phone app so he could order a new cab.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

The elevator was still out. Satoru groaned and glanced at his lockscreen. 11:50 glared back at him. He wasn’t sure if Riko would’ve gone to bed without him returning home first. He did make a detour to campus to call her from one of the payphones there to let her know he’d be on his way soon. That was about an hour ago. It took a while for another cab to show up.

He entered the stairwell and dragged himself up to the eighth floor. He was exhausted and thoroughly wrung out. All of the adrenaline had evaporated, and it left him feeling like a hollow husk. His muscles were sore, and there was still a bit of ringing in his ear. Satoru craved a hot bath. He wanted to curl up in his bed and not emerge again for the next decade. The next 24 hours would be used exclusively for sleeping. The outside world could wait for him until Monday. Midterms, ugh. 

Satoru truly needed to study. The thought almost causes hysterical laughter to bubble out from his lips again. Such a mundane thought; all things considered. Still, just thinking about midterms starting next week added to his weariness. Satoru stopped in front of the door exiting to the eighth-floor hallway. He leans his forehead against it, soaking up whatever soothing the cold metal had to offer. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and passed through. 

Exhaustion weighed on him so heavily that he couldn’t even be bothered with picking his gaze up off the floor. His hands were shoved in the pockets of his track pants. He could feel the drag of his body, moving noticeably slower than even his old-normal pace. Satoru felt as if he’d been dipped in honey or molasses. It took far more effort than was typical just to lift his foot off the ground, one after the other. By the time Satoru made it to his front door, he’d begun dragging his feet instead of truly walking. 

The top of his head gently bumped against his apartment door. Finally. Bath, bed, maybe some food. Just a little further, Gojo, just gotta grab your keys-

“Satoru?” A cold chill runs down his spine, and his head snapped to the side, immediately detecting the owner of the voice. Satoru had whiplash; he was motion sick. If he thought he was on the tipping point of a well and full mental breakdown, he was wrong. Suguru. Here. Now. After the shittiest night ever. After wanting him all night and hating myself for it. Suguru here. I could reach out- I could- I could- “Satoru? Are you okay?” He was sitting on the ground beside the door. 

Suguru looked up at Satoru in such a way that made his stomach do somersaults and his toes slightly curl in his shoes. A gaze meant only for me. Suguru’s eyes were soft and full of concern, and they looked so damned endearing. Satoru wanted to let out a frustrated shriek. Suguru’s lips were slightly parted, as if hesitant on the next thing he wanted to say. As if the other guy was some shy schoolgirl. The sight of it made Satoru’s blood boil, and his chest swelled with obnoxiously confused feelings. Satoru kicked his front door hard. 

Suguru got to his feet in one smooth motion, his hair fanning out briefly. Satoru started to dig through his backpack for his keys, trying to ignore the other man entirely. Which ,of course, Suguru was going to make impossible. Suguru crammed himself into the space between Satoru and the door. Which was completely out of character, but so was ignoring Satoru for four years, and beating up random strangers for no fucking reason. So maybe invading personal space is just another new quirk of his. 

Looking directly in Suguru’s eyes, Satoru sighed. And then immediately regretted it when his stomach swooped again at the sight of Suguru’s face. He’d always been beautiful to Satoru, but fuck. With his hair slightly in disarray and all of the intense emotions crossing Suguru’s face, he looked ethereal. Like he’d been hewn from marble or some shit. Satoru looked away. “Suguru, I really don’t have time for this-”

“Satoru, listen.” Suguru reached for his hand, but he recoiled from his touch. He was going to be sick again; bile was already rising. His eyes squinted shut. Today had already just been too much. He couldn’t deal with this now. When Suguru spoke again, his tone sounded slightly wounded. “Look, Toru, I think we just need to sit down and talk.”

He shook his head rapidly. Fuck no. Talking will literally only make this worse. Satoru slipped his backpack off his shoulders so he could have an easier time looking for his keys. His hands grasped the caribeaner, and he pulled his keys out. “Don’t fucking call me that.” Satoru wanted to curl into himself. It’s not Suguru’s fault I’m all fucked up in the head. Satoru shakes his head again. It didn’t matter who was at fault. Satoru felt that if he had to endure a second longer of this encounter that he would explode for real. 

When he caught a glance at Suguru’s expression, hurt replaced concern. He no longer seemed timid, but somehow, for the first time, Suguru looked small to Satoru. Which was crazy to think since Suguru had always been a little taller and way broader than Satoru. He shook his head once again, dispelling the thoughts. He tried to gulp in a deep breath. He was so tired, and at this point, he was ready to skip food and shower if that meant he’d get to his bed sooner. He sighed, “Look, I have had a shit day. I can’t deal with whatever this is between us right now. I have other things I need to focus on.”

Satoru could see Suguru nod slowly in his peripheral. An eternity of silence stretched out between them. An infinite amount of time that then seemed to snap and narrow down to four years. Suguru showed no sign that he would move out of the way. Satoru was prepared to shoulder his way past the man when he cleared his throat. Against his will and better judgment, Satoru looked over at Suguru; he caught his eye for just a second. Too much. His hand rose to fist at his chest again. 

His eyesight narrowed; his lungs tried to drag in oxygen but couldn’t. Thick tears rolled down his cheeks. He could feel them so acutely, smell the salt in them so vividly, he felt as if he were drowning in them. Suguru’s hands were reaching for him. A firm hand wrapped around Satoru’s bicep and squeezed it gently. In any other moment, the gesture might’ve calmed Satoru; might’ve soothed him to his core. Now, however, it did not. His anger clawed up his throat. He did his best to stamp it down.

He stepped back, and Suguru’s hands fell to his sides. “How about we just go inside and have some tea? You can tell me about your day. I want to hear about it. I want to be here for you in whatever capacity you want me.” Suguru was staring at him. Satoru didn’t need to look up to know this. He could feel the other’s eyes on him; he knew he’d likely have a heart attack if he met Suguru’s gaze again. In a small, broken voice, Suguru says, “Just don’t push me away… Please, Satoru…”

It would be preferable to do what Suguru has suggested. Satoru closed his eyes, let his mind explore the what-if. Satoru would just nod his head, Suguru would softly smile to himself, maybe tuck a stray strand of hair sheepishly behind his ear. Satoru would invite him in, and Suguru would go straight to the cupboard to pull down the kettle and two matching mugs for them. Satoru would sit and watch while lounging on one of the barstools. He’d then tell Suguru everything: The bite, the webs, the crazy super strength he had now. 

He’d tell him about the looming threat of losing the apartment. How he’s sorry for making him worry about him the other night. Satoru would tell him how much he’d missed this, and how much he missed Suguru. He’d maybe mention the fight club, and if he spiraled into another panic attack at the thought of the butcher, Suguru would close the distance between them to cup Satoru’s face in his hands. He’d wipe away the tears that escaped and then pull Satoru flush against him. 

Satoru let himself imagine that he even had a chance of saying yes to the request. The issue was, Satoru didn’t know how. How could he possibly say yes? He couldn’t tell Suguru anything. It could put him in danger; him being here now was putting Suguru at risk. Anger, white-hot and pulsing, tore through him, but he cowed it again. Finally, he answered. “No. I’m tired. I smell like a homeless person. I want to shower and then go to bed.”

Suguru was still blocking Satoru’s path to the door. He felt the other’s eyes travel over him again. “I thought you were supposed to be studying… You look like you’ve been dragged through the mud.” He reached out to brush away a stray white hair from Satoru’s face. Satoru stopped it mid-motion; it remained suspended in the air a beat too long. Suguru just stared at him. His eyes were begging for some kind of explanation. Suguru studied him like he could pry all the secrets out of him with a few serene flutters of his onyx eyelashes. 

Satoru's voice broke, “You can’t-” He heaved down a gulp of air. “Suguru, you can’t do that!” His broken words were at odds with the anger simmering in the pit of his stomach. He was on the verge of tears again, and that only served to piss him off more. 

“What? I- I mean, I didn’t mean to-” Suguru broke off stammering. His cheeks heated, and Satoru stared absently past him at the doorknob. He tried to think of anything else. Willed his mind to take him somewhere that wasn’t here. I just can’t do this. I can’t. I want him to leave. I need him to leave. Even trapped inside his head, the words rang false. Suguru collected himself. His shoulders were back, and he stood up straighter. Satoru couldn’t decipher the emotion in the other man’s eyes. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Didn’t mean anything by it. Satoru clamped his hand harshly around his keys. He felt blood well up immediately from the bite of the metal. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying and failing to keep the coursing anger rising inside him at bay. “I think maybe that’s the point, yeah?” Satoru shoved Suguru aside and jammed his key into the lock. “You mean nothing by it, so it’s just me with the seismic aftermath of how your actions make me feel!” The lock clicked, and Satoru shoved open the door. 

“Wait! Toru- I mean. Fuck. Satoru, that wasn’t what I meant.” Suguru called after him as he rushed to shove the door shut. Sugru tried to push his way in, causing Satoru’s final restraint on his emotions to snap. Suguru managed to wedge his shoulder into the doorway just as Satoru slammed it. The other hissed in pain. Satoru didn’t care. He put his full weight against the door. “Satoru! Stop! Please, we need to talk about this!”

“We just did. You didn’t mean anything by it.” Satoru said flatly and shoved against the door. 

“What’s going on?” Asked a tired voice again behind him. He turned to see his cousin standing outside her bedroom door. The distraction was exactly what Suguru needed to finally slip inside. He stood close to Satoru, too close. They stood in the small square of the entryway reserved for taking off shoes. 

“Nothing, he was just leaving,” Satoru explained curtly.

Suguru sent a pleading look toward Riko, who chewed on the inside of her cheek. She was nervous, Satoru could tell by the way she shifted her weight between her feet. She seemed torn between doing what she assumed was best for him or simply siding with him. “Satoru, I think…” She paused, looking uncomfortable to be caught between whatever this was. A lovers' spat? An ending? Satoru didn’t know either. She took great care with what she said next, taking a deep breath before saying: "I think it’s time you two sat down and really talked.”

Satoru was shocked. He stared at his cousin. He heard something wet dripping on the floor and looked down. Blood was falling from his clenched fist. He looked back up at Riko, still recoiling from the betrayal. Surely, he’d misheard his cousin. Hurt and anger warred inside him. Time slowed down as reality shattered through his paper-thin defenses. The anger finally spilled over the sides of him. He couldn’t put the stopper back on. “Fine!” He shouted. He immediately moved toward the door, and Suguru stumbled past him, tripping on the step up. “If you guys want to talk so bad, then talk!” Satoru pulled the door open again and ran out into the hallway. 

Suguru was right behind him, hand landing on his shoulder. “Toru, wait! Come back inside, you’re exhausted and bleeding, please stop!” 

Satoru shook him off and sprinted straight to the stairwell. He moved much faster than Suguru. He was already on the fourth-floor landing when he heard the stairwell door close again. Suguru wouldn’t find him, though; Satoru had already turned invisible. He didn’t look back, just kept running until he burst through the lobby door and into the brisk night air. He’d run himself into the ground before returning. If they know what’s best for me, they can talk amongst themselves about it. They clearly don’t think I’m capable of making decisions on my own.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Satoru didn’t know where to go. He considered going to Shoko’s, but decided against it quickly. She’d just side with the rest of them. Satoru knew that he was being petulant and that neither Riko nor Suguru deserved this, but he couldn’t stop himself. Once the anger was out, there was no shoving it back inside. There just wasn’t enough space.

He roamed around a park for a few hours. He looked at the time on his phone, 4:27 am. Satoru slumped over on a bench. So much for a warm bath. As if to add insult to injury, his stomach growled. Satoru pulled out the new phone and navigated to the maps app. He looked for the closest 24/7 internet cafe.

Luckily, there was one nearby. Satoru walked there quickly. A bell rang above the door when he entered, and a middle-aged man appeared from behind a curtain in the back. He paid for a cup of instant ramen and an hour of computer time. 

After collecting his noodles, he sat down at his designated computer. There was only one other person in the internet cafe. She sat several computers away from Satoru and seemed to be completely engrossed in whatever she was doing. Probably a cram-school student. God, I don’t miss that shit. While his cup of ramen cooled, he clicked on the search engine and typed in Ryomen Tech. He’d heard of it before, of course. It was the biggest tech company in Japan, and of course, he’d heard a little bit about it from Suguru since his dad worked for them. 

Ryomen Tech was known globally and had a lot of military weapon programs running in the States. The reason Suguru moved in the first place. He clicked through a few sites detailing fiscal year breakdowns and other boring information. Nothing useful came up at all. What the fuck does any of this have to do with me? Absolutely nothing. It’s nothing, just a dead end.

Frustrated, Satoru closed the current article he was reading about green energy initiatives in Kyoto and Tokyo. He navigated to the search engine and typed Ryomen Tech + Biological Engineering. He browsed through quite a few articles. His eyes started to droop closed, adrenaline truly leaving his system for real this time. He clicked page 8 of the search site and clicked on the third article down. They always say you gotta dig deep when researching. 

His eyes scanned over the first few lines, and his spine went rigid. He switched off the screen and scooted away from the desk. No… No this isn’t right. His heart hammered out of his chest. He felt like crying; he felt like laughing. Satoru ran his hands through his hair. NO. He snatched his bag off the ground and ran out of the cafe. Warm ramen untouched and left behind.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Tuesday October 6th

It had been a few hours since his mysterious phone call. He’d made sure to block the number. He had no interest in hearing what Star had to offer. Now, Suguru stood in his own apartment, staring at a potted plant. Am I a plant guy? He sighed and picked up the plant from its spot on his coffee table to move it to a bookshelf near the glass patio door. He’d decided to run errands to keep himself occupied the rest of the day. He wanted to be clear-headed when he saw his friends again.

Suguru looked around his apartment. It was smaller than he was used to, but that was okay. He wanted something smaller; needed the change of pace. He knew that the option to return to their family home was available. He’d considered it for a while. It was already furnished, and in a great location. Not too far from the city, but just far enough that it didn’t feel claustrophobic. His dad had kept it, insisting that they’d go back from time to time. They never had.

Not once in the almost four years spent abroad did his father even bring it up again. He’d always shut Suguru down if he tried to push a visit. Eventually, after the second year of being away, Suguru gave up on the notion. Accepting that he’d be stuck there in an underground lab with his father for the rest of his life.

Now, he was back, though, and it just felt wrong to return there. He didn’t want to go back to his childhood home. It would be too cavernous without his mother’s warm laugh and soft voice to fill it. Now it was just a tomb of what used to be. His own smaller apartment was preferable. A new setting, a fresh start. It was exactly what he wanted, precisely what Suguru needed. 

There were no ghosts here to haunt him beyond the ones waiting for him in the mirror. Those were easily avoidable at least. Just don’t look, he’d remind himself every time he passed a reflective surface. It’s all behind me now. I just need to keep moving forward. Here, he felt like he really could start over on his own, far away from his father’s legacy and the shadow of the company he worked for.

So he spent a while cleaning his new apartment top to bottom. He opened up all the windows, hoping to eliminate the stale new building smell. He scrubbed the windows free of grime, and he swept away the dead leaves from his patio area. The movers had already set up his furniture, so that was one less thing to worry about. He still had a few stacks of packed cardboard boxes to sort through. He decided to leave them for another time. 

He entered the kitchen to get his furniture polish and a microfiber cloth to dust with, when his eye caught the clock on the oven: 6:00 pm. He had texted both Satoru and Shoko asking if they wanted to meet for soba around 7:00 pm at a restaurant near his new apartment. He patted down his pockets for his phone, but didn’t find it. 

He started retracing his steps to look for it. He checked the utility closet where his stacked washer and dryer unit was, but he didn't find it there. Though he did find the canned coffee he had failed to finish earlier. He downed the rest of it on his way to the bathroom. His phone wasn’t there either; he moved on to his bedroom and private bath. Nothing. 

Suguru checked on his patio next. He vaguely remembered pacing it on the iron table, but he must’ve moved it again. All that was there were a few letters Suguru needed to mail. He planned to stop by the post office on his way to the soba restaurant later. He stood staring at his coffee table in the living room, trying to imagine where his phone could’ve gone. Then he remembered the plant he’d just moved. 

Suguru had set it on the shelf below it so he could adjust the pot better. He retrieved it and quickly checked his notification tab.

4:48 pm

Shoko: yeah love to! c u then!

Nothing from Satoru. Which was fine, Suguru suspected the other man had just forgotten to respond. Satoru was prone to getting distracted and was often forgetful. He navigated to their open thread and sent another text.

6:07 pm

ME: did you still want to get soba?

ME: if not, just let me know when you get home safe so i know youre okay.

 Suguru stared at his screen, silently willing it to light up with a notification. It didn’t. After a few minutes had passed without a response, Suguru set his phone down on the coffee table. He was suddenly too anxious to clean anything. Instead, he opted to watch television. Suguru couldn’t settle his mind, though. He surfed through channel after channel, unable to dedicate any of his focus to any one thing longer than a couple of seconds. 

When finally, his phone pinged, Suguru tossed the remote to the side. He reached for the device, his heart pounding right out of his chest. When he saw the notification on the screen, his heart constricted. Disappointment anchored itself in his limbs. It’d been from Shoko.

6:47 pm

Shoko: we still on tonight 

ME: Yeah! Have you heard from Satoru? 

Dots appeared to indicate that Shoko was typing. Suguru watched the screen as they disappeared, then reappeared before the text was received.

Shoko: nope

ME: ah, okay. i’m sure he’ll respond soon.

Shoko: have u tried callin

ME: no, not yet. i’ll call him soon though.

Shoko: ok meet at 7?

ME: that’s the plan! i’ll let you know if it changes

Shoko: ok

Suguru sat back again on his couch, his phone lay face down on the armrest. What could Satoru possibly be doing? Suguru turned his phone over immediately and pulled up Satoru’s location. He waited as the app loaded, but it was unable to find Satoru’s phone. Even after refreshing multiple times, the app gave him the same answer. Suguru frowned down at his phone. Something is wrong. He wouldn’t just turn off his location. Dread pooled in the pit of his gut. Suguru stood to grab something from his coat pocket.

Suguru withdrew an unopened carton of cigarettes and a new lighter. He’d learned from earlier that he couldn’t rely on Shoko for one, so he’d been compelled to purchase his first pack in several years. He pocketed his phone on his way to the balcony. He slid the glass door open and stepped outside. He inhaled the crisp autumn air. Suguru loved the fall. So much change surrounded him at this time of year. So much waiting potential around every corner.

Opening the carton, Suguru plucked out a cigarette and placed it between his lips. It’s been a few years since he last smoked. He and Shoko had developed the bad habit together as second years back in high school. Satoru always wrinkled his nose and told them they were lame. Suguru flicked the lighter on and off again a couple of times. Maybe Satoru was right. How did this benefit him any? He brought the flame up to the cigarette, anyway. It lit immediately, and he took a long drag. Almost immediately, he felt better. Mind now slightly hazy, the weight in his chest dissipated—just something to take the edge off. I won’t make it a habit again.

Suguru took another drag before pulling his phone out to look at the time—7:17 pm. He pulled up his text chain with Shoko.

7:17 pm

ME: let’s do 8

Shoko: 👍

Suguru looked through his contacts. He didn’t have Riko’s number, but he did have their apartment number saved here. He could call and see if she’s home, if she’s heard from her cousin. He deliberated as he stared out at the Tokyo skyline and shook his head. He’s fine. Probably got sidetracked on campus. It’s no big deal, I’ll hear from him soon enough. 

Another quarter hour passed with no response. Suguru was now on his third cigarette. He really wasn’t going to make it a habit again, he was just really stressed.

ME: satoru, did you make it home yet? let me know when you can.

Suguru waited. He took another drag of his fourth cigarette. He was going to have to buy another pack at this point. Not a habit… Just need to wait a little longer. As soon as Satoru responds I’ll quit. His phone rang about 10 minutes later. He grabbed for it, nearly knocking it off the ledge. He didn’t bother to to look at the caller ID before answering, “Satoru?”

“Uh, no. Sorry to bother you, Geto san…” Riko’s voice crackled through the receiver. “I was actually looking for Satoru. He said he’d be home around 6 tonight, and it’s almost 8 now. I was calling to see if he was with you. He hasn’t answered any of my texts or calls.” 

“Uh, no. Sorry Riko, he’s not with me. I’m actually looking for him too. Do you have his location?”

“Oh, I didn’t even think to look hold on!”

While Riko checked on Satoru’s location, Suguru sent him another text. 

7:45 pm

ME: pick up your phone, satoru. riko has been trying to call you.

“No, I can’t see it. It said he was last at the convenience store across from the complex. I’ll go out and check.”

“Okay, call me if you hear from him,” Suguru said and hung up the phone.

ME: i can’t see your location. did you go to the soba restaurant? im heading there now, wait for me there!

Suguru snuffed out the cigarette he was holding and ran back inside. He threw on his coat and grabbed his scarf. He then quickly slid his shoes on and exited the front door. He dialed Shoko’s number. It took a couple of seconds, but she quickly answered.

“Yo! What’s up?” She asked. 

“I can’t find him,” Suguru said through hurried breaths. He was currently running- no leaping down the stairs of his complex. 

“Whoa, slow down. What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Suguru bit out, “that he won’t answer my texts. Riko just called, he won’t answer her either. His location isn’t working.” 

There was a pause, and Suguru heard rustling on the other end. “Weird, it really isn’t. What are you doing?”

Suguru made it to the ground level of his complex and burst out of the front door. “I’m heading to the soba shop to see if that idiot’s there.”

“He might still be on campus. He’s been known to pass out there sometimes when he’s really wan to sleep.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll check there next. I’ll check back in later, rain check on soba.” His thumb hovered over the end call button, but he stopped when he heard Shoko. 

“Suguru!”

“Yeah?”

“Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s fine.”

Suguru swallowed the thick lump in his throat, “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Let me know when you find him,” Shoko called out and hung up the phone.

If I find him. If…

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Suguru sat in the soba shop. He didn’t order anything. The waitress kept approaching him and asking if he was ready. Suguru just waved her away, again and again. He kept nervously glancing down at his phone. His eyes roved the restaurant on their own accord. Every time the bell chimed his gaze magnetized to it. Looking for white hair and brilliant bright blue eyes. Always the same cloistering feeling of disappointment consumed him.

8:52 pm

ME: satoru, where are yo?

ME: none of us can get a hold of you. your phone just keeps ringing. did you fall aslee on campus? shoko mentioned you fall asleep at the library sometimes. 

ME: if youre at the library, stay there. im coming to meet you.

Suguru grabbed his coat from the booth. He was about to call a cab when Riko’s contact flashed on his phone. “Is he home?” Suguru asked in a way of greeting.

“N-no, not yet. I rea-“ a sob cut her words off. “Sorry… I just… with everything, I just can’t handle this w-well.” 

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to find him.” Suguru paused just outside the restaurant. “Riko, you’re okay, just take a deep breath.” Suguru listened as she took in a shaky breath. 

“I just can’t stop thinking about the w-worst.” There was a long pause where Riko sobbed. Suguru looked up and down the street to see if there was a cab he could hail, but there didn’t seem to be an open one in his vicinity. “I just can’t believe he’d do this… He knows he can’t do this.” Her breathing was shaky, then: “He can’t leave me, Suguru. I c-can’t live thro-though,” she dissolved back into crying. 

Suguru felt his heart breaking. He took a deep breath to steel his own nerves. “I’m going to ask Shoko to check on campus for me. I’m going to come over. We can keep each other company until he comes back, just hold on.”

“No! You don’t- you don’t have to do that.”

“You shouldn’t be alone right now. Give me a little while, and I’ll be there.” Suguru shot Shoko a quick text, to which she immediately sent a thumbs up to. “Just hold on, I’ll be right there.”

“Okay,” Riko said. Her voice was small and quiet. The sound of it was like a knife sawing away at his heartstrings. 

Suguru ordered a cab. It took a while for it to arrive. He used the time wisely; he left three angry and explicit voicemails for Satoru to listen to later. Once it pulled up to the curb, he scrambled to get in and gave the driver the address to Satoru’s complex. He looked down at an empty lockscreen. Dammit, Satoru, what the hell are you doing? It was driving him crazy not knowing where he was. 

Suguru needed to know that Satoru was safe and sound; he wouldn’t be able to rest otherwise. Suguru had to find him, but he knew that Riko also needed someone to be with her right now. If something was wrong, he knew Satoru would want Suguru to be with Riko. His heart was torn between the need to be out there searching for him and what he knew Satoru would want. Suguru had to trust that Shoko could find him. His phone buzzed in his lap, and he immediately opened the text from Shoko.

9:20 pm

Shoko: not @ library or bio lab

Shoko: there r a few other places he could b will check there

ME: okay, thanks for the update! in a cab now omw to his apartment

Shoko: 👍

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. Suguru opened the text chain with Satoru again. All messages still sat unread, and his location was still off. 

9:23 pm

ME: shoko said youre not at the library or the biology lab. satoru, please pick up the phone.

The streets were flooded with traffic. Suguru sighed, feeling absolutely irritated after 20 more minutes had passed and he still didn’t have a response from Satoru. 

9:44 pm

ME: have ou always been this inconsiderate? your cousin is fratic. shes at home fearing the worst

ME: satoru, please. nswer your god dammed phone

A few more minutes, and still nothing. His nerves were frayed. His carefully constructed composer slipped from his grasp like slick oil. 

9:52 pm

ME: when i find you im beating you ass 

ME: i mean it. yo re never hearing the end of it. 

ME: satoru, pick up the fuckig phone!

Around 10:10 pm the cab stopped at a light two blocks away from Satoru’s building. “I’ll walk the rest of the way. How much do I owe you?” 

The driver looked back at him skeptically, but nodded, “It’ll be 950 yen.”

Suguru quickly paid the driver and practically jumped out of the car. He shouted a quick thank you before closing the door with an awkward bow. He turned on his heels and started sprinting. He remembered the way well enough. He could probably walk it blindfolded if it weren’t for all of the other foot traffic.

Heaving, Suguru finally made it to the lobby doors. He pushed the call button for Satoru’s unit. “Satoru?” Riko’s frantic voice crackled over the intercom. 

“No, sorry, Riko. It’s me, Suguru.”

“Right, yeah, come on up.”

The door buzzed, and Suguru pulled on the handle. His nose was running a little bit. He tried to wipe it away with his scarf, but realized he must’ve left it at the restaurant. He used his sleeve instead. His lungs slightly ached from the run and the brisk autumn air. He stopped to lean against the wall in the lobby while he waited for the elevator. To his immense disappointment, it was out of service. 

He trudged up the eight flights of stairs and was finally standing in front of their apartment’s door. He tried to catch his breath, but he barely had the chance to knock before Riko was opening the door and throwing her arms around him. She buried her face in his chest and let out a choked sob. He tensed up a little bit, but then wrapped his arms around her in return. He squeezed her tightly, hoping it would help keep her together long enough until they were able to find Satoru.

She broke the hug first and opened the door wider to allow him through. “Sorry, I’ll let you catch your breath.” Suguru slipped off his shoes and shrugged off his jacket. “You don’t have to apologize.” Riko gave him a sad smile and offered to take his coat, then disappeared down the hallway to put it in the closet. Suguru looked at his phone. Still nothing from Satoru, but there was a text from Shoko. 

10:30 pm

Shoko: not on campus ill check the soba resturant again for u

Shoko: hows riko

ME: thank you. she’s okay, i just got here though. keep me updated.

Shoko: will do

Suguru looked through the cabinet until he found the kettle and some tea. He got to work, letting his mind go on autopilot. Usually, it helped calm his nerves to have something mundane to do. Yet Suguru still couldn’t bring himself to focus. His heart beat frantically in his chest. His breaths were too ragged, not allowing his lungs enough oxygen. He couldn’t afford to break down now, though. Not with Riko here, on the verge of her own emotional meltdown. He sent Satoru another string of texts.

10:37 pm

ME: shoko ouldnt find you on cams. shes looking a t the soba restaurant again. 

ME: as youll hear in my voicemails, ive been consoling your ousin.

ME: shes cried through my shirt. you owe me a ne w one.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” Riko’s soft voice sounded from behind him.

Suguru turned around to face her. He slipped his phone in his pocket and feigned a smile. “Nonsense, it’s the least I can do.” She returned his smile, though he could clearly see that her eyes were still rimmed with tears. “How was school?” He asked. He was really grasping at straws here. It’d been a long time since he had to console someone other than his father.

“Oh, it was fine.” She slid into one of the barstools and grabbed an apple from the bowl sitting on the island, but she didn’t take a bite. Instead, she sat there picking at the sticker on its side. 

“Did your review go well?”

Riko perked up a little at that, genuinely excited that he asked. “Yes! I got the highest score in the class on the portrait module.”

Suguru’s smile stretched further. “That’s great, Riko! Do you have a photo of it?”

She nodded and slipped off the barstool. She disappeared into her room. Suguru turned his attention back to the steaming kettle. He took it off the burner and pulled down two mugs from the cabinet. He poured water into both and placed a tea bag in each mug. He scooted one over to her spot and held the other close to his chest. Riko reappeared a few moments later with a tablet. She handed it to him with a shy smile. Suguru accepted it and looked down at the photo. He was stunned; it was so lifelike, he wanted to see it in person.

The painting was of a boy, probably around her age. He had pink and brown hair and warm brown eyes that invited people in. He sported a mischievous smile. It was all captured impressively in oil paint. Suguru felt a slight stirring of recognition. Something pulled at the edges of his mind. His jaw tightened. Something about him was just so familiar, but Suguru could not place it.

Across from him, Riko shifted in her seat. “Do you not like it?”

Suguru shook himself from his stupor, shaking the ghost of memories from his head. “No, not at all. I mean -I love it! Really, it looks great. You deserve the highest marks, without a doubt.” He chewed on his bottom lip. “He just looks familiar, is all. I’m not sure where from, though.”

Riko smiled, “I’m glad you like it! I don’t think you’d know him from anywhere, though." She clicked off the tablet and set it on the stool beside her. “He’s just some boy from my school,” Suguru noted the slight blush that rose to her cheeks. 

“Just some boy?” Suguru questions, wiggling his eyebrows at her. 

Riko laughed and covered her face. “Yes! Just someone I have a few classes with.” She slid off the barstool to grab the honey form the counter. “Do you want any sugar for your tea?” She asked, clearly hoping for a change in subject.

“No, I’m okay, thank you.” His phone buzzed in his pocket and his heart lurched. Disappointment stared him square in the face.

11:03 pm

Shoko: not at the soba place

ME: shit. should i go check capmus?

Shoko: no u wouldnt b able to access most of the buildings w/o id

Shoko: plus i already looked everywhere

Shoko: suguru im sure hes fine well find him

ME: yeah, this is just difficult

Shoko: should i come over

ME: it’d make me feel better if you did. 

Shoko: ok omw

ME: thank you, shoko 🖤

“Nothing?” Riko asked.

Suguru sighed and shook his head. “No, Shoko couldn’t find him anywhere on campus, and he’s not waiting at the restaurant.” He ran his hands through his hair, reached for the hair tie on his wrist but it wasn’t there. He closed his eyes and leaned forward on the counter. “She’s on her way over, hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Suguru opened his eyes to see Riko staring at the wall behind him. Tears streamed down her cheeks. He hadn’t even noticed she had started crying again. Suguru reached out a tentative hand and wiped some tears away with his thumb. Riko’s lower lip wobbled. “I’m sorry!” She blurted. “You shouldn’t have to babysit me… it’s just.” She pulled away from his touch and scrubbed at her face. “I know you’re worried about him too. I’m sorry.”

“Riko, you don’t have to apologize. It’s okay. He’ll be fine.” 

She let out a frustrated gasp. “I just can’t help thinking about my parents.” Fresh tears replaced the ones that had been wiped away. “He’s so stupid, I can’t believe he’s doing this to me.” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

Suguru walked around the counter and wrapped her in a tight embrace. One hand drew clumsy circles on her back as she continued to cry it out. There were no words he could offer her as comfort. Nothing he could do at that moment would make her feel better. Satoru, where the fuck are you? Suguru simply let her cry on his shoulder. Carefully, he sent Satoru another text.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Suguru still stood in the kitchen. One arm was crossed over his chest while his other hand cupped his mouth. He was staring at the door. He was pleading with himself to stay rooted to the spot, but his legs were begging him to pace. He ignored them. Shoko arrived around 11:30. She sat curled close to Riko on the couch. He couldn’t hear their conversation from where he stood, but every once in a while, an errant giggle reached his ears. 

Riko’s phone sitting on the island, lit up and began buzzing. She leapt up from the couch and grabbed it. Suguru’s eyes cut to the clock on the microwave. 11:47 pm. 

“Satoru? Oh my God, where have you been? We’ve been trying to find you for hours!”

There was a long pause where Riko looked to be on the verge of sobbing again. Faintly, Suguru could hear Satoru’s reply on the other end. Riko’s eyebrows scrunched together, and she pulled the phone away from her ear. She looked at it, confused.

“What’s wrong?” Shoko asked, standing up from her spot on the couch. 

Riko shook her head. “Nothing, he said he’d be up in a few minutes. And then he just hung up.”

“He’s getting an ear full when he gets up there. Who disappears for hours just to call and then abruptly hang up? That idiot.” Shoko stood by the door with her hands on her hips. 

“Did he sound okay?” Suguru asked.

Riko turned toward him. “He sounded a little dazed and breathless, but I don’t know.”

Suguru nodded to himself. “Okay, he’ll be up here soon?”

“That’s what he said.”

“Okay. We’ll wait and get some answers.” 

Shoko and Riko slid on to barstools opposite from where Surguru stood. He allowed himself to pace finally, hand covering the lower half of his chin. Shoko leaned her head against the cold island counter. Riko sat silently, staring at her phone. It didn’t ping. None of their phones buzzed or rang. Suguru looked at the clock on the microwave again: 12:11.

Suguru let out a frustrated sigh. He disappeared down the hallway and yanked his coat from its hanger in the closet. Riko stood up when he reappeared. “W-what are you doin?”

“I’m going to find him and drag his ass back home.” Suguru stomped toward the door.

Shoko stood in front of the door. “You don’t even know where he is. Think this through.” Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her shoulders were squared. She seemed to have no plans of letting him pass. 

“He has to be somewhere; I’ll look wherever I have to. The old arcade by our high school, I’ll check the soba place again. I’ll check every last train station if I have to. I’m bringing him back.” He invaded her space and put a hand on the knob. 

Regardless of his superior height, Shoko still managed to stare down her nose at him. The look was cutting, but he wouldn’t back down. He couldn’t. He needed to go; he had to make sure Satoru was okay. “Shoko, please.” His voice broke. 

Her gaze faltered, falling to the floor. She huffed a breath. “Fine. But answer your phone. I don’t want to have to file two police reports.”

Suguru hugged her, “Promise. I’m bringing him back. We’ll give him a verbal lashing he’ll never forget.”

Shoko laughed and pried herself out of his grasp, “I’m looking forward to it.” She stepped aside. Suguru pulled the door open and flew down the hallway. 

He barely registered Shoko calling out, “Be careful!” Before he was already bounding down the stairs. He’d made it to the 6th-floor landing when he stopped dead in his tracks. 

Satoru. Satoru. Shit, he’s hurt. Fuck, Satoru is hurt. Suguru dropped to his knees. Panic clouded every higher function. 

Suguru took his friend's face gingerly into his hands. “Satoru? Are you okay?” He asked, softly patting the side of the other’s cheek. He didn’t stir. 

Suguru smoothed back the white locks from Satoru’s forehead. “Shit,” he hissed. His hand had come away sticky with crimson blood. Mindlessly, he wiped his hands off on his pants. “Satoru, what the hell happened to you?” He did not answer. Suguru’s breath caught in his throat. He quickly placed two fingers over the other’s throat, grazing over Satoru’s pulse. He relaxed slightly at the thrum of reassurance. 

Firmer this time, Suguru cupped Satoru’s face again. “My god, I could’ve lost you, fuck.” Feather-light, Suguru pressed a kiss to his cheekbone. He looked around, but there was no one to ask for help. He wondered how many people had passed Satoru on the stairs. He couldn’t have been here for more than an hour, probably less. 

Suguru pressed another kiss at Satoru's temple -the side that wasn’t bleeding. It was quick, over before his lips really made contact. Somehow, it was still intoxicating. He pressed his forehead against the other’s. Okay. He’s okay. I just need to get him to Shoko. She’ll patch him up, and we can put this behind us. He’s breathing, and that is all that matters. 

Settling his thoughts the best he could, Suguru gathered Satoru up into his arms. He held the other man close to his chest as he carefully got to his feet. Suguru paid special attention to making sure Satoru’s head was secure. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you now,” he murmured and pressed one last kiss to his temple.

Though Suguru tried to remain calm for Satoru’s benefit and comfort, his mind raced itself ragged with fictitious scenarios of Satoru getting hurt in a myriad of different ways. Suguru diligently climbed the stairs, still cradling Satoru close to him. A hand clutched at the front of his shirt, and he looked down, alarmed to find Satoru struggling to crack open an eye. “Suguru?” He mumbled.

He kissed the top of his head and shushed him. “You’re okay now, I’ve got you. I’m taking you back to the apartment where Riko and Shoko are waiting.” He pushed the door to the 8th-floor hallway open with his shoulder. He looked down at Satoru. The other boy was alarmingly pale, more so than in the past few days. Suguru didn’t even want to begin to imagine how much blood he’d lost, how long Satoru must’ve been left in this state. This stupidly infuriating boy. God, I was awful to him. All of those messages I left him, when he'd been out there somewhere, hurt. 

Suguru stood in front of Satoru’s apartment door and kicked it. “Shoko, hurry, open up!” He waited for only a breath before he kicked the door again. “Shoko, now! Open up!” The neighbor across the way stuck her head out to see what the commotion was. The moment she caught a glance of the half-dead corpse in Suguru’s arms, her eyes grew wide, and she slammed the door. He turned back to kick at the front door again, but thankfully, it opened before he had to.

“What the actual hell are you-” Shoko answered the door, and the annoyance visibly drained from her body.

“Shoko, it’s bad.” He said lamely, voice small and broken. He felt tears well up behind his eyes. He knew it was bad, but seeing Shoko’s reaction reinforced that on a whole new level. He’d never seen her composure crack so suddenly. When she first opened the door, she looked irritated, but the moment she saw what state Satoru was in, she froze like a deer in headlights. She was just staring at him. Several moments passed by, and then Riko was shouldering her way past to see what was happening. Her gasp seemed to be what brought Shoko back to herself.

Shoko blinked, but remained stationary, as if she couldn’t process what she was seeing. Riko turned and ran back inside. Suguru tried again, “Shoko, please, he needs…” he looked down at the rag-doll boy in his arms. His own tears threatened to spill over again. “Shoko, I don’t know what he needs, but we need to figure this out.”

She nodded, hand coming up to her mouth. “Shit. Yeah.” She looked down at Satoru, then up to Suguru. “Shit. Riko, clear the island!” She shouted over her shoulder. They didn’t get a response, but they heard the clattering of things being swept away. 

Shoko brought her index and middle fingers to Satoru’s neck. She visibly relaxed. “Okay, he’s not dead.” She announced. 

“No, but he split open his head,” Suguru said as Riko returned and ushered them in.

Shoko looked over, “Shit. Yeah, that’s a lot of blood.” In the short time he’d been in Suguru’s arms, the wound on his temple had bled through Suguru’s shirt at the shoulder. The stain ran down the arm of the short sleeve and crept slowly across his chest.

Suguru felt like his tongue was glued to the top of his mouth, yet he still managed to ask, “What do you need? Wh-what do we need to do?”

“Take his hoodie and shirt off.” She turned to Riko, who was staring wide-eyed at her cousin’s limp form. “Get the first aid kit and some towels.” Riko nodded and disappeared down the hall. Shoko walked over to the sink and started scrubbing at her hands. 

Suguru stood there looking down at Satoru. He couldn’t for the life of him understand what had happened to him. Where had he gone? Who had done this to him? Suguru would find out. He’d hunt them down and kill them. Whoa, okay. Maybe not that. But fuck, Satoru, who did this to you? 

“Suguru, get your ass moving.” Shoko’s voice jolted him back into action.

“Right, sorry!” He carefully laid Satoru down on the counter. His clothes clung to Suguru with sticky blood. “Fuck, Shoko?”

She came over to see what the problem was. “Shit. The fucking hoodie is too dark to see anything; he’s bleeding from somewhere else. Pull it off.”

Suguru nodded and, with shaky hands, tried to peel the hoodie off carefully. The white T-shirt underneath was soaked with blood. Suguru’s vision swam at the sight of it. He took a deep breath and grabbed the hem of it, prepared to pull it off as well, when Shoko stopped him.

“Just cut it. It’s ruined anyway,” she said, handing him a pair of scissors. Riko had just come back with the first aid kit. Suguru heard it clatter to the floor as a loud sob consumed the room.

“Satoru, oh my God,” she cried. Shoko was there instantly, a soothing hand on her back.

“Go sit in your room, I’ll take care of him, okay?” Riko stepped back, but her knees gave out and she fell to the floor. Tears rolled down her face in heavy tracks. Shoko crouched down to console her.

Suguru turned his attention back to the ruined tee and quickly cut it open. His gut rolled at the sight of Satoru’s exposed torso. His left side was covered in blood. Suguru couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. It was already leaking out onto the counter. Tears built up again, and this time he couldn’t hold them back.

He cupped Satoru’s face again and brushed a kiss to his forehead. His tears fell on Satoru’s pale face. Suguru wiped them away, but really only succeeded in smearing blood over Satoru’s cheeks. He couldn’t fall apart. Not when Shoko was already busy consoling Riko. He ran his hands through his hair, not caring where he smeared blood. He looked down at Satoru again, and it was just too much. 

He backed up against the counter with the sink and tried to anchor himself there. He didn’t know what to do, how to make it all better. The bleeding was so bad that it was dripping to the floor now. Suguru was experiencing too many emotions to process anything properly. He was so angry that he wanted to scream, but that would solve nothing. His tears were falling in earnest now. He scrubbed at his face. He felt useless, absolutely worthless, and pathetic.

Satoru had needed him. He had been hurt; instead of even considering that, Suguru had yelled at him and sent him angry messages. He had called Satoru selfish and inconsiderate, but fuck, Suguru had never considered this. He just assumed that Satoru was out there being his typical forgetful self. The worst had happened, and Suguru failed to be there for him.

Someone was tapping his shoulder, and it took him a moment to realize that he’d sunk to the ground. He had his knees pulled up to his chest, his face buried there as he cried. He looked up at Shoko, her features all soft and gentle. She offered him a hand up, and he took it. “Sorry, I just…”

She shook her head. “Go get yourself cleaned up, you look like shit, and I have my work cut out for me already.”

“No. I can’t leave him. I’ll stay and help. Shoko, please.”

“Dude, you look like you’re about to collapse. Go shower. Riko already laid some clothes out for you. Let me take care of him.” He looked over at Satoru’s still body. Towels had already been placed on the floor to mop up the blood. He could see that Shoko had already started cleaning Satoru’s wounds. Suguru didn’t want to leave him. He had all his protests already formed on his tongue when she asked, “Do you trust me?”

The fight went out of him. Of course, he trusted her. Besides Satoru, she was his closest friend. His shoulders fell. “Yes. I trust you.”

“Good, then you know you can leave it to me. Go clean up, take a moment to pull yourself together. We’ll get through this like we always used to.”

“Together?” He asked, voice quiet, still shaky from crying.

“Together, exactly.” She patted his shoulder.

“Okay.” Suguru nodded. First, though, before he could leave Satoru, he walked over to the island. He smoothed the white hair back from Satoru’s face and leaned in close, “You better be fine by the end of this.”

Shoko was beside him, hand squeezing his shoulder. “He will be. He’s our Satoru, remember?”

“Yeah, our Satoru.” He turned and gave Shoko a tight hug, forgetting all about the blood on his clothes. She didn’t seem to mind, though. She squeezed him back tightly.

“Now go.” She turned him around and pushed him toward the hallway. 

He glanced over his shoulder one last time, and his heart nearly gave out. It killed him to leave them both there. He didn’t want Shoko to shoulder this alone, but he wasn’t lying when he said he trusted her. She would make sure Satoru was okay.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

The bathroom mirror was cracked. He hadn’t noticed it before he got in the shower, still too in his mind worrying about Satoru. Now, though, standing here, towel drying his hair, he’d be blind not to notice. Suguru carefully trailed his finger across the cracked glass, idly wondering what had happened. His mind pulled forth the image of Satoru’s dented door handle. What am I not seeing? Satoru’s bedside table had also been in shambles. All the stuff was knocked to the floor, his alarm clock smashed to pieces.

He’d told Suguru it was nothing, had been just a mishap, a rogue experiment. He’s not stupid, though. Something else was going on here, and Suguru wanted to get to the bottom of it. He shook his head; none of this mattered right now. What mattered was Satoru being wholly okay. After he rested up and recovered from whatever had happened tonight, Suguru could get his answers. Is this all connected? What are you not telling me, Satoru?

Suguru sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get any answers tonight. He just had to hope that Satoru would eventually let him in. He pulled on the white tee that had been left out for him. It was a little tighter than his own shirt would be, but fit well enough. It just hugged his figure in a flattering way, which wasn’t the worst thing, he supposed. Satisfied with his hair, Suguru padded back out to the kitchen. Riko was sitting on one of the barstools across from where Shoko stood, still working on Satoru. Riko’s shoulders were tensed, her posture rigid.

Shoko looked up and gave him a soft, reassuring smile. He let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and approached the counter. “How is he?”

“I think he’ll live,” Shoko sighed and removed her gloves, tossing them in the trash can. “Though I highly suggest he go get an X-ray.” She frowned down at Satoru.

“Why? For what?” He asked.

“It was difficult to tell, but I think he actually did crack his skull open, and the injury over his ribs is no joke. If any of them are broken, they could puncture a lung. He’s breathing fine now, though. I don’t think there’s any real danger of it.”

Suguru sighed and looked over at Riko. She rubbed her eyes, which were red and tired. He squeezed her shoulder as he passed, on his way to Satoru. Shoko steps out of the way, and he takes her place. His hand magnetized to Satoru’s face, and he rubbed his thumb over the other boy’s cheekbone.

“I tried to stitch the gash on his head closed, but it was like his skin was literally fighting me, I don’t know. I’m probably just tired. Just check on his bandages in the morning.”

Suguru nodded, “Okay, yeah. Thank you, Shoko.”

“Hey, anything for you guys, and you guys only.” Shoko smiled and rummaged in her bag for three lollipops. She gave one to each of them. 

Riko’s timid voice called across the island. “Thank you for today, both of you. I- I don’t know what I would’ve done without you guys.”

Shoko walked over and wrapped her arms around Riko. “We’re here whenever you need us.” She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. “I’m beat though, so if you need me, don’t,” she said with a wink. She patted Suguru on the chest and gave Satoru a fleeting kiss on the forehead. “I’ll call tomorrow morning, but if there’s an emergency, I’ll keep my ringer on tonight.”

Suguru nodded, and Riko stood from her chair to walk Shoko out. Suguru leaned against the counter as he examined Satoru. The other’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. He still looked super pale, but slightly better than he had earlier. He combed his fingers through Satoru’s hair. His stomach still felt like it was flipping over on itself. His eyes caught on the baby blue carabiner clipped to the front of his jeans. Suguru reached out and unclipped it. He set it on the island beside Satoru.

The door opened again, and he felt Riko standing beside him. They both stared at Satoru for a long time. He wondered if she was also counting his breaths. Satoru’s eyelids fluttered, and Riko gasped. Suguru grabbed hold of his hand. Nothing more happened, though. After a long while, Suguru glanced over at the clock. It was nearing 4 am. He ran his thumb over Satoru’s cheek again and brushed back the hair that had fallen out of place.

“You should sleep,” Suguru said to Riko. “I’ll take him to his room and tuck him in for the night.”

Riko shook her head. “I can’t leave him. What if… What if while I’m sleeping, he stops breathing? I have to stay beside him.”

Suguru turned toward her, “I’ll stay up with him, I don’t mind. Just for a little while longer. I’ll still take him to his room; he’ll be alright. Shoko said so herself.”

“Well, Shoko isn’t a doctor,” Riko snapped. She immediately shrank back. Suguru knew that she hadn’t meant it. “Sorry, I know that wasn’t fair after all she did tonight.” She shook her head again, “It just feels like good things never happen to us. So I’m always waiting for the other brick to fall.”

Suguru reached out for her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “It’s okay. You look tired, go rest up.”

Riko looked at Satoru, worry creasing her brow. Suguru was convinced she’d put up more of a fight, but instead her shoulders slumped forward. “Okay, let me get you some blankets, though. Do you want the old tatami mat?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll come back out here and crash on the couch after making sure he’s okay.”

“Okay, I’ll just grab the blankets then and place them on the couch.” She managed a soft smile and let go of his hand. 

“Thank you, Riko.” He said, and she waved him off. Suguru turned his attention back to Satoru. He figured he should help him into some pajama bottoms at the very least. 

Very carefully, Suguru picked Satoru off the counter, cradling him closely to his chest. Satoru stirred in his arms again. “Suguru? Wh-what’s going on?” He croaked. 

“I’m taking you back to your room so you can sleep. How do you feel?” Suguru forced himself to keep his eyes forward. He had no real expectations of having a coherent conversation with Satoru in this state. Satoru surprised him, though, just like always.

“Always good with you,” Satoru mumbled.

Suguru’s steps faltered, but he managed to stay upright while not losing his hold on Satoru. Satoru was apparently aware enough to loop his arms around Suguru’s neck. Suguru elbowed open the door to Satoru’s bedroom and carefully sat him down on the bed. The issue was that Satoru didn’t let go of Suguru’s neck. In fact, he tried to pull him in closer.

“Stay?” Satoru asked while he tried to drag Suguru down. His face flushed bright red. I cannot do this right now. Satoru is just dazed and confused. He can’t actually want this, can he? Suguru was pathetic enough to hope that Satoru did, in fact, want Suguru to consume his personal space.

“Wait,” Suguru breathed out. “Just hold on a moment, Toru. Let's get you changed first.”

Satoru protests with a small whine at first, tugging Suguru forward again. It took all of his restraint, but Suguru managed not to move. After a minute-long stalemate of Satoru pulling and Suguru not budging, Satoru finally relented and loosened his hold on Suguru’s neck. “Fine, but only because these jeans are not comfy.”

Suguru laughs. “Glad you can still manage to see reason, despite a very possible concussion.”

“I’m going to make you see reason,” Suguru vaguely hears Satoru’s reply. He’s already stepped into the closet and is looking for a pair of joggers for Satoru to change into. It does something funny to his heart to see that even the contents of Satoru’s closet haven’t been changed. Well, the clothes are different, more stylish than before, but Satoru still organizes everything the same. It makes it easy for Suguru to find what he needs.

He’s found what he needs and turns to make his way out of the closet when his knee bumps something, and something metallic clatters to the ground. Suguru curses and reaches for the light on the ceiling. He gently pulls the string, and the small space is immediately illuminated. He gets on his knees to check the ground for whatever fell. 

“Su-Gu-Ru,” he hears Satoru say in a syrupy voice, elongating all of the vowels in his name. That certainly does something funny to his heart. His breath catches. He’s about to abandon the fallen object when something glimmery catches his eye. Suguru takes a sharp inhale and snatches up the object, quickly pocketing it.

His heart ragged in his chest as he stepped out from the closet. He closed the door with a soft click. “Right here, Satoru. Sorry, it took me so long.”

Satoru lazily smiled at him. “That’s okay,” he shrugs. “I’ve spent a lot of time in the closet myself.” Suguru goes rigid, and his eyes open wide. “Like metaphorically. And I guess a little physically, too. It’s a great place to have panic attacks.” Satoru elaborated. Suguru isn’t sure Satoru even knows what he’s saying right now… Which was true at any given moment, he supposed, but it was especially true now.

“Right… How’s your head feeling?” Suguru asked.

“Fine, but it would feel a lot better if you came over here and kissed me.” Satoru had said it in such a serious way. His gaze on Suguru lit his skin on fire. He felt cold and hot all at once.

“I don’t-,” Suguru tried to start, but he felt far to dizzy to finish the thought. He put his back against the closet door, fearing he’d pass out. “Toru, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“And why not?” He demanded.

Suguru tossed the pair of joggers on the bed. “Do you even hear yourself?” Suguru scoffed. “Do you even understand what you’re asking me, right now? Because that’s a serious request.”

Satoru grabbed the joggers from where they had landed on the bed. With no warning whatsoever he kicked his legs up and squirmed out of his jeans. Suguru covered his eyes and averted his gaze. He should’ve known better than to expect Satoru to have even a modicum of decorum. He seemed to be having more trouble pulling the pants back on than he did with removing his jeans.

Satoru huffed and cursed under his breath. Then Suguru heard him stand from the bed. He turned around, ready to scold Satoru, but his friend was pitching forward and about to fall. Suguru effortlessly caught him. “Satoru, what part of possible concussion do you not understand?” He admonished.

“What part of come over here and kiss me better did you not understand?” Satoru counted and tipped his weight backwards. He fell back onto the bed and Suguru fell right along with him. Suguru was already scrambling to right himself. This can not happen. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing, the little shit. 

Suguru’s face burned at the proximity, but for every inch he moved away, Satoru was there greedily chasing after it. He wrapped his arms around Suguru’s waist and tugged him down on top of himself. “Satoru! Your ribs!” Suguru hissed and tried to prop himself up on his elbows. For someone who had just suffered a head injury, Satoru’s grip was surprisingly firm. It wasn’t unpleasant. Under different circumstances, Suguru would entertain this idea. But now was just ludicrous, he couldn’t.

Satoru pinched the extra skin on his hip and nipped at his arms that were currently bracketing Satoru’s head. He exhaled, heavy and tired. The sound cracked a few of Suguru’s own ribs. “Please, just stay with me. Like you used to.” Satoru sounded so vulnerable. He managed to press a kiss to the inside of Suguru’s elbow. Just the small contact was enough to eddy out all of Suguru’s thoughts and protests. 

All of his arguments seemed flimsy and baseless now. Suddenly, it made perfect sense to him. The one thing he could do to make Satoru feel better. He bent down to press a kiss to his forehead, the bridge of his nose; Suguru’s lips ghosted over Satoru’s eyelids. His heart strained at the sound Satoru made when Suguru pulled away again. “I don’t remember kissing being a part of me keeping you company,” Suguru whispered into the space between them.

“It could have, but I hadn’t figured that part out back then. Now I’ve got it all figured out.” Satoru’s eyes looked lit from within. His hands trailed up from Suguru’s waist and under his shirt. It didn’t make any sense, with how much blood Satoru had lost, but his hands felt like a live wire. They were near scalding as they traveled up Suguru’s spine.

He shuttered hard, his gaze downcast toward Satoru’s slightly open mouth. “What have you figured out?” Suguru asked, completely dazed.

“Everything,” Satoru said with a wicked smile. Suguru was glad for a one-word answer. He couldn’t focus on much beyond the sensation of Satoru drawing invisible shapes over his ribs. Part of Suguru knew he needed to get a handle on this situation before it got away from both of them.

He bent down again and fuck him, he really was going to try to be the responsible one, but he couldn’t think straight. He closed the distance between their mouths. Satoru grinned against his lips, and one hand came up to cup Suguru’s jaw. Suguru was a little overwhelmed; he wanted to touch Satoru, too, but he also fought to keep his weight supported by his elbows.

It only took Satoru fisting the fabric of his shirt and yanking him forward for Suguru to relent on that front, too. He collapsed into Satoru, his scent mixed with a sharp iron smell invaded Suguru’s senses. He trailed his lips away from Satoru’s mouth and up his jaw to the shell of his ear. He nipped at his lobe. Suguru felt Satoru’s breath catch in his throat. “So much better.” Satoru breathed onto Suguru’s lips as he pulled his face in to meet him again.

Suguru’s hands found Satoru’s waist. The carabiner flashed in his mind. He flipped them carefully so Satoru wasn’t under him anymore, and he was safely on his right side. “Wanted this earlier,” Suguru manages between kisses. “Wanted to pull you toward me with your carabiner when we were at the library.”

“Hope the phone call was worth it then,” Satoru teased and grazed Suguru’s bottom lip with his teeth.

Suguru bit back, a bit too eagerly. Their teeth clashed together, their foreheads nearly knocking together. “It wasn’t.” He went back to kissing a trail up Satoru's neck, whispering as he went: "Nothing that takes me away from you is ever worth it.” Satoru’s lids drooped, his head arched back, allowing Suguru full access. He carefully grazed his teeth over Satoru’s neck, and the other man shuddered in Suguru’s arms. “You need rest,” Suguru said softly, pulling away slightly. 

Satoru’s hands grabbed at the front of his shirt again. “Don’t leave me.” His voice was hoarse. Suguru’s hands came up to circle Satoru’s wrist.

“I’m not, not ever again.” He replied and pressed a soft kiss to his wrist. 

“Don’t, Suguru. I don’t know what it’ll do to me if you leave.” Satoru’s voice was like shattered glass, hitting Suguru in the most vital places.

“I’m not going anywhere, Toru. I’m right here.” Suguru removed Satoru’s hands from his shirt and placed them on his face instead. Satoru clung to him. Suguru could tell he was on the verge of tears, his nose turned red, and Satoru kept blinking. His dainty white lashes brushed his cheekbones.

“Don’t. Leave.” Satoru pulled Suguru’s face to his again. The kiss was frantic and uncoordinated. Suguru’s head spun from it; he was getting drunk from it.

Suguru broke the kiss, his hands now cupping Satoru’s cheeks. His thumbs traced soft circles over his cheek bones. “The only way I’m leaving again is if I’m going somewhere you can’t follow.” He pecked Satoru’s nose; he leaned in for a chaste kiss. “Now you need rest, I mean it.”

Satoru pressed in impossibly close. “The only thing I need is you. Here. With me.” He mirrored Suguru and pecked his nose back, leaned in for a kiss that lingered just a little longer. When he broke away, he stared at Suguru’s lips like he didn’t know what he wanted to do next. “And maybe some water.”

Suguru smiled and chuckled. “Okay, I’ll go get you a glass.” He carefully untangled himself from Satoru’s hold, but before he could get too far, Satoru grabbed hold of the hem of his borrowed shirt.

“Promise me.”

“I promise you, I’ll be right back with your water.” He turned to go again, but Satoru tugged him back once more. He looked back over his shoulder and was stricken. Satoru’s gaze burned like the hottest of flames. Suguru felt stripped bare.

“Promise me.”

Suguru knelt on the bed with one knee. He pushed back Satoru’s unruly hair and kissed his forehead. “I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

Satoru released his hold, and Suguru stood back up. “Okay,” was all Satoru said. Suguru padded out to the kitchen. Riko’s bedroom door was closed, and it appeared that her lamp was shut off. Good, she needs rest, too. Suguru ran his index over his lips. His bottom one still tingled from when Satoru had bitten him. He pulled a glass down from the cupboard and filled it with water. He took a big gulp of it and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He refilled it and repeated the action twice more.

This is literally all I ever wanted. It’s all here, right within my grasp. He filled the cup again and made his way back to Satoru’s room. When he reentered, he found Satoru curled up, fast asleep. He couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on his face. He quietly walked over and set the glass down on the nightstand. He carefully repositioned Satoru so he could pull the comforter up over him. He leaned down to press a kiss to his temple.

He walked to the door again and allowed himself one last glance before switching off the lamp and closing the door. He made his way back to the living room and made up the couch for himself. He settled in, pulling the blanket up to his chin. For the first time in a long while, Suguru fell asleep instantly. His only hope for tomorrow was that he and Satoru would finally be allowed their shot.

Chapter Text

Wednesday October 7th

Suguru found himself pacing again. This time, he stood outside Satoru’s bedroom door. He couldn’t get the imagery of the previous night out of his head. It was driving him crazy just thinking about it. Satoru, beneath him, pliant and begging. The way Satoru’s hands gripped the front of his shirt. The way their lips collided; frantic and a little uncontrolled. Satoru wants to pick up where we left off. He still has feelings for me. He still wants this. Suguru’s mind swung to darker thoughts. But will he still want me after he learns the truth? Will Satoru be able to forgive him? Does he even deserve his forgiveness? 

Four years he had been away. All of the awful things that had happened. Suguru’s eyes burned just thinking about them. He couldn’t possibly talk about it all. He couldn’t tell Satoru, he just couldn’t. But if he didn’t, he knew it would hang over his head for the rest of their relationship; the guilt, the lies. They would eat Suguru alive. 

I have to tell him everything. And I will. Soon. Suguru took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He didn’t wait for an answer. He assumed Satoru would still be asleep. He was shocked when he was met with Satoru’s bright blue eyes. His brain short-circuited, and he pushed the door right into Satoru’s side. He hissed in pain. 

Tenderly, he asked, “Satoru?” A moment passed between them, and he didn’t get a response. He tried again, louder this time. “Satoru? Are you okay?” Suguru watched his face, looking for any signs that he remembered the previous night, that it wasn’t just some fucked up fantasy Suguru came up with to calm his nerves. Satoru gave nothing away, though. 

Not until his face turned bright red and he stammered out: “I -sorry, what did you say?” Suguru’s eyebrows drew together. He couldn’t decipher if Satoru’s reaction was from general embarrassment or if it was due to their kiss the night before. 

Suguru licked his lips and cleared his throat. He felt a blush creeping up his neck as well. He held Satoru’s gaze, searching again for literally any sign that the man in front of him still wanted this. 

A little frustrated, Suguru looked away. “Riko said that breakfast was almost ready.” He turned away then and exited the room. He stood in the hallway feeling like a total idiot. 

He doesn’t remember. It wasn’t real. It happened, but only because Satoru wasn’t in his right mind. What would he think if he knew it happened? Would Satoru want that with him? Suguru didn’t want to know the truth. He didn’t need to know. If he were only allowed to have Satoru by his side as a friend, then that would be enough. Suguru wouldn’t jeopardize that. 

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Suguru needed space. The kitchen table had him in close proximity to Satoru, and it had his brain on the fritz. Even without looking, Suguru could tell that his face was flushed. His ears were fiery hot when he gingerly cupped them in his cool hands. His abrupt exit wasn’t ideal, and it was probably obvious that he didn’t have a real phone call to make -but God, he needed to put space between them and get his thoughts in order. God, this is going to be the death of me. How am I supposed to go on knowing that we kissed last night, but he seemingly has no memory of it? What the actual fuck? Suguru took a few calming breaths.

Between Riko’s teasing and what Shoko had said the day before, Suguru’s whole world was caving in on itself. He knew what he wanted; he just wasn’t sure about how Satoru felt. Could he use a half-asleep kiss fueled by delirium as a solid answer? He probably shouldn’t, but when did Satoru ever play by the rules? Maybe he pretended not to remember the kiss because Suguru didn’t acknowledge it. What if he’s giving me an easy out? He sighed, beyond frustrated with himself. Suguru didn’t want an easy out. 

Though he had received no phone call, Suguru took the opportunity to try to call his father again. The line kept ringing with no answer. After the third attempt, Suguru sighed. He lightly rapped on the door to Satoru’s apartment so he could retrieve his shoes. Enough time had passed; he hoped that Satoru would be in his room getting ready, so he could slip back out without having to see him again. Not that he didn’t want to see him. He was just too flustered, and what happened last night had his head all fucked up. He just didn’t want to jeopardize whatever could be between them. 

“Everything alright?” Riko asked as he slipped on his shoes.

He feigned a bright smile, “Of course. I’ll see you later, okay?” Suguru had already turned back toward the door when he felt arms wrap around his torso. 

“Thank you for last night. You have no idea how much I appreciate what you did for me, for him, too.”

Suguru shifted awkwardly so he could get an arm around her to hug her back. He ruffled her hair a bit. “It was no issue. You guys are the closest thing I have to family.” Saying it aloud erupted an uncomfortable dichotomy within him. It was true, though he did not know Riko super well, she was familiar enough that he felt as comfortable as he did with Shoko and Satoru. Well, Satoru was a different matter. 

It was still true, though. They were family, and it made him happy to acknowledge that, but it also made him feel slightly angry and utterly lost. Because he had a real family, but it wasn’t the same anymore, not with his mother gone. He supposed, though, that Satoru and Riko understood what he was feeling the best. As both of them had lost their parents.

Riko hugged him tighter, and Suguru allowed himself a moment of silent vulnerability. He hugged her back and then patted her head when he untwined his arms. “You’re like family to us, too, Suguru.” She reached to open the door behind him. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

He nodded, “Okay, promise.” He gave her a wave over his shoulder, and she smiled as she closed the door behind him. When he was alone in the hallway again, he checked his phone. No notifications were waiting for him. Suguru sighed and almost slipped it back in his pocket when it started to ring. He looked at the number and instantly recognized it as his father’s lab. 

His grip fumbled, and his phone nearly plummeted to the ground, but at the last moment, he caught it. He punched the accept button with his thumb and pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder. “Hello? Dad?” Suguru looked at his watch. It’d be evening there by now, close to 9:00 pm. Suguru walked down the hallway to the stairwell entrance. 

“Ru, my sunshine boy, how are you?” His father asked. Suguru’s chest felt funny. His emotions were still at odds with each other. His dad sounded well, better than he had in months. It’d been years since he’d called Suguru that; he couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips. 

“I’m great, how are you?” He hesitated on the sixth-floor landing, where he had found Satoru the night before. Suguru had been so scared at that moment. A multitude of horrible scenarios played out in his mind in a matter of just a few seconds. He’d been so utterly relieved when he felt Satoru’s pulse flutter beneath his touch. 

The silence on the other end of the phone stretched out as Suguru continued his descent. Weariness crept back slowly into Suguru’s body. He couldn’t take these yo-yo-like emotions. He craved consistency, but his life over the past six years has been anything but. Suguru withheld a sigh and asked, “Dad? You still there?” 

From the other side of the line, Suguru still heard nothing for a few tense beats. Then, “Of course, Ru. I’d never leave you hanging.”

He laughed, his father absolutely would, and has on multiple occasions, but that wasn’t a now problem.  “I know you wouldn’t.”

“You’re mother wouldn’t either. Not by choice. She didn’t want to leave us.”

Suguru knew this already. Obviously, she hadn’t chosen to develop a life-altering, untreatable disorder. Suguru braced himself for the worst. He finally made it outside Satoru’s building. He softly said to the receiver, “I know she wouldn’t.”

“She was taken from us, Suguru. Taken against her will, but I am going to get her back. For you. For both of us. We can finally be a family again, Ru. You won’t have to stay home all by yourself anymore.”

Tears welled up behind his eyes. They seared him, but he refused to let them fall. “Dad, please-” Siguru’s voice broke on the plea. “You have to stop this. Just please. You have to let her rest.”

“Suguru…” His father’s voice was a lot smaller than it had been just moments before. Even with the distance separating them, Suguru felt his father’s mood diminish. He could picture it. A moment ago his father was standing tall, shoulders back, and his face was relaxed. Now he was curling into himself. Doubt contorted his face. He could practically see him, his arm moving up; his hand reaching out to cup his own face as he pressed himself into a nearby corner. 

A tense moment passed where Suguru didn’t know what to say or do to comfort his father. He would no longer buy into the delusions. It was one of the reasons he was here. He couldn’t handle these episodes from his dad, amongst his own grief. It was too much, too heavy a burden to carry. Suguru winced at the thought. He didn’t want to see his father as a burden, but it was increasingly difficult not to. 

“Ru? Are you still there? It’s gone dark.”

“I’m still here, Dad.” He took a deep breath. The autumn air gave him much-needed strength. “It’s just the power-saving lighting for the lab. It’s late there, you should really get home.”

“Oh, right. Yes. The eco lighting. Ru you’re always so helpful. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Right, me too, Dad. I love you.” He was expecting the conversation to end abruptly. His father hated goodbyes and hated saying them on the phone even more. He normally just hung up. 

“We could do it together.” His father said firmly.

Suguru’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Uh, do what Dad?”

“You’re a smart boy, you’ll figure it out.”

The line clicked, and Suguru looked at his screen. He’d stopped walking. Other pedestrians shouldered past him, many making gruff, annoyed comments. A heavy, suffocated feeling had settled over him. He should’ve realized sooner, but he never actually considered it a possibility. What his father had been blathering on about —Suguru realized now that he actually meant it. He wants to… What? Absolutely not, that goes against all kinds of ethics. 

His father was weird and quirky. He was an innovator, a genius. He was not… He wasn’t truly mad. He still had his wits about him. Doesn’t he? He couldn’t… He simply wouldn’t do that. Through 43 long years as a scientist, his father had always lived by the community ethics board. He didn’t crumple under coercion like Suguru had been prone to do. So there. The only evidence needed. He won’t.

Suguru closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He still had time to go back to his apartment to change and freshen up before his meetings today. Dread and excitement swirled around him. He wanted this new opportunity, the chance to build a legacy to be proud of. He just wanted to help people. He didn’t have to save the world or anything that grand, but he wanted to make an impact. He wanted to be remembered as a good person. He knew he couldn’t erase the past, so his only option was to pave a better tomorrow for himself, for his friends, and his community. Suguru could do that.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Suguru’s first meeting of the day had gone really well. He had met with a young financial advisor named Nanami. The meeting was kept within the lines of subject matter, which was good, because Suguru wasn’t sure he had the brain power for anything more. He was running on fumes from last night and the only thing that was getting him through all of this was the coffee Nanami’s office assistant had offered him. 

He learned quickly that Nanami was a very severe kind of person. Suguru had made just one joke near the beginning of the conversation and it had fallen flatter than a cement slab. He got straight to business, as he had run all the numbers already for multiple locations suitable for the institute in Tokyo. His head swam a little with all of the numbers being thrown around, but once he pulled out his stationery and started taking notes, it all started to come together in his head.

Nanami seemed to appreciate that Suguru was taking this seriously. A smile had even ghosted over his face when Suguru started taking notes. He’d even thanked Suguru for not wasting his time with stupid questions. Suguru had thought it was a joke, but then he was the only one laughing, and it got all awkward for a moment. Overall, though, it had gone great.

His dreams were lofty, and Suguru had known going in that it was going to be expensive, but he hadn’t really had a grasp on just how expensive it was. He would need to tailor back some of the ideas. Maybe focus on a field of research that was a little less ambitious and had more grant funding available. It might be better if he started with environmental infrastructure and branched out to genetics later. It was a little out of his scope, but Suguru had the drive and determination. 

Besides, I won’t be the one doing the research anyways. Which brought him to a different topic of money entirely. Putting together a team of top tier geneticists was also super expensive, and ambitious. His father’s name carried weight in the community, but it would only get him so far. Not to mention he wanted to do this on his own. It was about building his legacy and finding out what Suguru personally had to offer. He didn’t want to ride his father’s coat tail.

The next train pulled into the station, so Suguru stood from his bench and boarded. As he took his seat on the train his phone buzzed in his pocket. Suguru knew that Satoru had labs all day, and that the Biology building didn’t have the best reception. His mind logically determined that it probably wasn’t Satoru texting him. His brain also knew it’d be stupid to imagine Satoru would text him something like I remember.

His heart didn’t seem to get the memo, though. When Suguru finally looked, he somehow possessed the audacity to feel the pang of disappointment when it wasn’t Satoru’s contact greeting him. He shook his head and opened the notification from Shoko.

Shoko: we gottta pick up gojo after his last lab

Shoko: i hope he knows hes paying 4 all our food

Suguru smiled down at his screen and rolled his eyes.

ME: isn’t he like, broke now?

Shoko: sucks 2 suck 

Shoko: hhouldve thought of that b4 he scared us all to death

Shoko: feelin ok? hows the big meetings goin

ME: feeling great. fist meeting went really well

ME: having to make adjustments to the original plan, but im excited!

Shoko: good!!! tell me about it over dinner

Shoko: unless ur still keepin it underwraps

ME: we’ll see how this secont meeting goes

ME: there have been other developments though… like romantic developments

Shoko: ???? i need all the deets immediately

ME: well, don’t get your hopes too high. i don’t think satoru remembers any of it

Shoko: god that fuckin idiot

Shoko: so what? u like made out w his corpse? dude didnt peg u as a necrophylliac

Suguru choked on air and almost dropped his phone. He got weird looks from the other passengers around him. He schooled his features and messaged back.

ME: shoko never say that to me again oh my gof

ME: no, i didn’t make out with his corpse, he was very much alive and initiated it

Shoko: and he doesnt remember? i reiterate my last point

Shoko: sucks to suck

Shoko: was there togue involved

Shoko: actually dont answer that idk y i asked

ME: i dont kiss and tell

Shoko: u brought it up

ME: you would’ve asked anyways

Shoko: u right

Shoko: meetin with the mayor next?

ME: no, not till latet. next meeting is with a grant advisor

Shoko: sounds to official and adult like

ME: i mean, we are adults, have been for a while now

Shoko: nah not me man

Shoko: im a teenager in her early-mid 20s

Suguru rolled his eyes, but laughed under his breath. Today was going great. His plants were still alive when he got home that morning. He’d made all of his trains so far. He felt like he’d hit his first meeting out of the park. Shoko was making him laugh. Suguru felt so light; for once, there was no strange darkness lurking just out of sight. His other meeting would go just as successfully as the first, and then he’d meet up with the people he cares most about for a delicious dinner.

His brain, which usually worked overtime to find things to worry about, was quiet for the time being. He sighed contentedly and watched out the window of the train. He’d missed Tokyo; he was so happy to be back finally. Sitting there, Suguru felt that the future was limitless. He couldn’t shake the warm, bubbly feeling, and he didn’t want to.

ME: stay that way, yeah?

Shoko: tyring to lol

The station came into view, so Suguru pocketed his phone. He gathered up his bag and his other scarf and disembarked. He glanced at his watch. He still had a little bit of time before the meeting. FEAST was just a block away. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t finished breakfast.

He pulled out his phone again to see if there was a cafe nearby. He could get a pastry and a coffee, then have a moment to glance over the notes he took during his meeting with Nanami. There’s one directly beside it. With a smile and a game plan, Suguru left the station. 

A bell rang above him when he opened the door to the cafe. A brunette smiled at him as he approached to place his order.

“Welcome in, what can I get you today?”

Suguru glances at the menu above her. “I know I want a black coffee to start… hmmm,” he trailed off.

“One black coffee and?” The girl smiled at him again and tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear that had fallen loose from her ponytail. “We have the best cinnamon rolls,” she suggests.

That caught Suguru’s attention. He could buy one to-go for Satoru to have later. “That sounds good, I’ll take two of those. Could I get one of them in a box?”

The girl nodded, “Yeah, certainly! Anything else?”

Suguru looked at the display case, “Could I also get a cake pop?” He wanted to bring something sweet for Shoko, too. “Could that also go in a box?”

“We can do that! Oh,” Someone approached her from behind with a white coffee mug, “Here’s your coffee!”

Suguru accepted it graciously, “Thank you! I think that’ll be all for me.” He smiled and took out his wallet. He paid and sat at a table to wait for his pastries. He opened his bag and retrieved his notebook. He flipped through the pages. The numbers were hurting his head. By the time his pastries arrived, he was pinching the bridge of his nose. Maybe having a meeting with the mayor today is a bit ambitious. I don’t even have a concrete plan.

With the pastries came a glass of water. The waiter sat them all down, and Suguru thanked him as he disappeared quickly back behind the counter. He took a bite of the cinnamon roll and slightly cringed. It was good, but far too sweet for him, perfect for Satoru, though. Suguru picked up his phone again.

12:15 pm

ME: i hope you still have a sweet tooth

Suguru didn’t actually anticipate a response. He was ready to shut his screen off and pocket his phone again when it buzzed.

Satoru: of course!!! what do u take me for???

ME: a wild beast

Satoru: 🤪 only if you want me to be

ME: 🙄 no, lol. what are you up to? thought you had labs all day

Satoru: on break for fuel and to talk to a cutie

ME: oh? who are you talking to?

Satoru: maaaaaaaybe ill tell u if u bring me smth sweet 😉

Suguru knew he shouldn’t feel the way he does now, but it seemed his heart was still in the driver's seat. His stomach was doing a weird twisty thing like he was going to be sick. He pocketed his phone. It was time he packed up anyways. He carefully set the desserts in his bag and packed up his notebook. He thanked the girl who took his order and rushed out the door.

When Suguru arrived in front of FEAST, the building was already a buzz of activity. People of all varieties were entering and exiting. Suguru jogged up the steps. He was still about 15 minutes early. When he entered, he was welcomed by the smell of miso soup and warm smiles from the volunteers. Someone brushed passed him with a dog, spurring the stranger forward. 

It was pleasantly warm inside, chaotic, but very welcoming. A community outreach center. Now this is what it looks like to really connect with people. To help him. For a moment, a bubble of envy formed in the pit of his stomach. It was quick to dispel, though.

A woman with blonde hair broke away from a pod of people ahead of him and approached. She reached out her hand, “Hi, I’m Sue, you must be Geto san.” She smiled brightly at him, and her blue eyes crinkled at the edges. “Li is so excited to meet you!” 

She greeted him in English, which kind of caught him off guard, but Li must’ve mentioned he’d spent a while in the States. Suguru took her hand and returned her smile, “Hi Sue, it’s nice to meet you. And just Suguru is fine”

She squeezed his hand before letting go, and was still smiling, “Li should be down to get you any minute.”

“What are you guys working on over there?” Suguru wasn’t sure why he asked. He felt a pull towards Sue, though, and didn’t quite want the conversation to end.

She laughed softly, “The morning crossword. We’ve got one word left, can’t seem to get it.”

“Ah, yeah, those are tough sometimes.”

“You wanna take a look?” She asked.

“Oh, no, not my strong suit. Much better at quantum physics and figuring out missing biological components. Words have always been lost on me.”

“I’ve always been pretty good at both.” She didn’t sound as if she was bragging; she was just simply stating a fact. “My brother always teased that I got all the brains in the family.”

“You have a brother?”

“Yeah, he’s more of the jock type, heart of gold though.” She looked back at the group of volunteers.

“Is he here with you?”

“Not here, here. But here in Japan, he actually goes to Tokyo U. Well, I guess we both attended. Though I am on my way back to America, I just got accepted into an aerospace program for my doctorate.”

“Oh wow, congratulations! That’s really cool.” Suguru said, and he meant it.

“Sue, how are you today?” Another man approached and laid a hand on her shoulder.

She turned her blue gaze toward the man, “I’m doing well, Martin.” She turned back to gesture at Suguru. “I think this gentleman has an appointment with you.”

“Ah, Geto Suguru? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” the man bowed and then offered his hand.

Suguru took it, smiling, “Mr. Li, it’s nice to meet you as well.” The man before him wore black slacks and a purple button-up with its sleeves rolled to his elbows.

“Well, thank you for keeping him company, Sue.”

“It wasn’t all that difficult, he’s kinda cute.” Sue winked at Suguru. “See you around?” She didn’t wait for an answer; she’d already turned on her heels, walking back to the other volunteers.

Suguru’s ears felt hot; he coughed and quickly averted his gaze to Martin Li. He was watching Suguru; he wasn’t sure what Mr. Li was looking for. He shifted awkwardly on his feet. “Have you been running this place long?”

Li smiled, “Not too long. I’ve only had this division open for a few years. Though I have another location in New York City. That’s where the dream started.”

“Oh, really? What brought you to Japan?”

“An opportunity presented itself, and I thought it would be beneficial to pursue.”

Suguru nodded; the other man didn’t seem like he would elaborate further. “Well, I hope that it’s worked out well for you.”

“Oh, it has.” He placed a hand on Suguru’s shoulder, directing him to the stairs, “Now, let’s discuss you. Come, this way to my office.” Li started walking toward the staircase. Suguru quickly followed behind, feeling just a little uneasy.

Once in the office, though, a sort of sense of serenity fell over him. Suguru instantly relaxed, let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Mr. Li motioned him to sit in a chair at the desk. Suguru performed a quick scan of the room. Behind the desk was a large window that looked out onto a big common area. People were lined up around fold-out tables holding plates and utensils.

“Okay, so you want what exactly?” Mr. Li asked. He leaned forward with his elbows on the desk, his chin resting on his hands. 

Suguru let out a breathy laugh. “I don’t want it to sound like I’m wasting your time. My first meeting of the day kinda has me out of sorts.”

Mr. Li’s eyebrows rose a little. “What do you mean?”

Suguru exhaled, hand reaching back to scratch his neck. “Well, I realized I need to change my original plans. I’m not so confident in the direction I want to take anymore.”

The man across from him nodded, “I see. What direction do you think you want to take then? Originally, you wanted help drafting grant proposals for genetic testing, correct?”

“Yes, sir, that was the original plan. I still want to do that -eventually. I’m just realizing it’s a lot more finance-intensive than I had originally anticipated.” Suguru looked around the room again. He noticed medals framed among photos on the wall. As well as some decorative masks. “I think to start out I want to do something more environmentally based. The financial advisor mentioned earlier that it’s easier to get funding at the moment, and it was something I was already interested in pursuing in the future. Really, all I’m doing is flipping the timeline a little bit.”

Li nodded again, “Okay, I see. What does your dream look like now?”

Suguru paused to really think. What did it look like now? What is it that I want to do? “At the end of the day, I want to be able to go home and feel that I’ve made a positive impact on the world. I want to know that I’ve helped people.”

“Okay, Geto san. Let me ask you this: Is this about helping others, or saving yourself?”

He was taken aback by Li’s question. He thought on it a moment, “Honestly? I think it’s a little of both. Is that a bad thing?”

“It doesn’t have to be. What started you down this path?”

Suguru’s eyebrows creased; he wasn’t sure where Mr. Li was going with this line of questioning. “What do you mean?”

“Why did you want to pursue genetics? How does that connect back to helping people?”

“I mean…” Suguru looked down at his hands. When did this become a conscious choice for me? When did it stop just being something Dad wanted from me? “I guess it starts with my mother. And watching what she and my father had to go through just to receive treatment. My family is fairly well off; both my parents were brilliant scientists. But even then, access to the kind of treatment my mother needed was not easy to come by. I guess I want to change that, eventually.”

“You guess?” Mr. Li asked. His eyes were ablaze with interest. Suguru wasn’t sure how to feel; his heart sped up a little. Li’s mannerisms were making him nervous; he couldn’t figure out the right thing to say. Li smiled at him and tilted his head to the side. “There are no wrong answers here, just be honest. The easiest thing is often the right thing.”

The tight, anxious feeling dissipated from Suguru’s chest. He felt like he could breathe again. He nodded as Mr. Li sat patiently waiting for the answer to his last question. “No, this is something I want to do in the future. If I can make it happen, I want to do it.”

Li nodded, “I like your conviction. I’m looking forward to what you can accomplish, Geto Suguru.” Li’s smile was warm and inviting. He looked for a moment like a proud father. “How about instead of working on grant propositions, we table that for now, and I show you around FEAST?”

Suguru found himself nodding eagerly, “Yeah, actually, that sounds great. I’d love to see what you do here.” Li was still smiling, and it made Suguru want to smile too. So he did, with a wide, toothy grin. Something about Martin Li was a little intoxicating, but Suguru wasn’t sure what it was. “Where do we start?”

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Suguru was stunned speechless. He had never imagined something like this would ever be in the middle of Tokyo. The building that sheltered FEAST was 100% self-sustainable. The people on the program, or who lived there, farmed their own food, collected their own water, recycled, upcycled, you name it, they did it. It was amazing. Suguru wanted to be a part of it.

“So what do you think of the place?” Li asked. They currently stood on the rooftop garden. The second garden Suguru had seen. There was one also in the cellar where they grew less light-intensive plants.

“It’s amazing,” Suguru breathed. There were solar-paneled floor tiles beneath his feet. To his left stood a huge water tank where they collected rainwater. “You’re doing so much for so many people, it’s ingenuity and human compassion melding together like never before.”

Li laughed, his head fell back, expression completely unguarded. Suguru laughed a little too. He felt like a child in a candy store. “What if you come in a few times a month and help out? In exchange, I can show you the ropes of the administrative side of things.” Mr. Li stepped closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Just until you have a better idea of how to move forward with your own dream.”

“Wait, really? You mean it?” Suguru smiled so wide his face hurt.

“Of course I mean it, Geto san. I want you to be a part of this. That is, if you want to. I can still help you with your grant proposals if you’d rather; of course, I can always do that down the line for you as well.”

Suguru’s eyes caught on Li’s. He felt kinda tired all of a sudden. He blinked his eyes hard and tried to refocus on Martin. “Yeah, Mr. Li, I think I’d really like that.”

Li smiled brightly, “I’m so glad to have you on board, then.”

“Mr. Li?” Suguru’s head turned toward the voice. Standing in the entryway was the woman from earlier, Sue.

“Susan, is something the matter?”

“No! Everything is predictably under control. You just wanted me to remind you when there were 15 minutes left until your next appointment.”

“Oh, right! Goodness, what am I going to do without you, Susan? Are you sure you have to leave us?”

Sue laughed, “Well, we all gotta start chasing our own dreams at some point.”

Suguru looked down at his phone. He almost choked on air. It was almost 5 pm. He’d completely missed his meeting with the mayor, which was awful, just awful. He can’t salvage a reputation already burned to ash. Anxiety rooted deep inside his chest. This was only supposed to be an hour and a half, shit.

“Geto san, are you okay?” Li stood in front of him.

Suguru managed a nod, “Yeah, I- I just stayed over longer than I thought I would, is all.”

“I’m glad you’re alright. I do have to excuse myself now, though. I hope to see you again soon.” Li waved as he walked past Sue and down the stairs. 

The anxiety was gone in a poof of smoke. It would be okay, Suguru would just call and explain. It would be fine. “Want a buddy to walk you out?” Suguru’s attention turned back to Sue, specifically her blue eyes. They were a deep blue, pretty, but not like Satoru’s.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Suguru stepped forward and held the door so Sue could step away from it.

“What did you think of the place?” She asked as she started down the stairs. 

“It’s amazing. So much good is happening here. It’s a shame that more people don’t know about it.”

“Yeah, it’s unfortunate, but Martin is working hard to get the word out there.”

“I can see that, it’s awesome, really.”

Sue smiled back at him over her shoulder. “Yeah, it is. I’m going to miss it. There’s just such a sense of serenity here. Regardless of what’s going on in my head, I know when I step through the front doors that everything will work itself out.”

“I hope you find a place like it again, then, everyone deserves a place to go where they feel at peace.” Suguru wasn’t entirely sure what spurred him to say it, but it was true enough. He had always wanted a place like that.

“Yeah, I hope so, too,” Sue responded quietly. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence. Another thing that surprised Suguru. He’d never enjoyed awkward silence; he hated the trepidation of having nothing to say but feeling compelled by the need to say literally anything. Maybe it was this place, perhaps it did bring forth a sense of serenity, or maybe it was just Sue. It was a shame that she would be leaving soon, Suguru thought they could’ve been quick friends.

“What’s your brother studying?” Suguru asked when they reached the door.

“Oh, um,” Sue laughed. She looked a little caught off guard, like she really didn’t expect Suguru to ask her anything personal. “Well, he’d switched his major around a lot, actually. It’s hard to keep track. I think he's currently majoring in linguistics?”

“Oh wow, that’s pretty impressive.”

Sue laughed again, “Well, don’t be too impressed, he hasn’t actually committed to anything beyond his favorite ramen restaurant.”

Suguru smiled, “I have two friends from high school who attend the same university. One is on the medicine track while the other is studying biochem.”

“Who are they? I might’ve shared a lab or two.”

“Ieiri Shoko and Gojo Satoru,” Suguru smiled again.

Sue’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “You’re kidding!” Her hands waved in front of her excitedly. “I do know them! Not super well, but I have had a few labs with Gojo. He’s crazy smart, a little arrogant, but every interaction I’ve had with him has been nice. He’s really fun to be around.”

“Oh, wow, small world,” Suguru laughed.

“Yeah, actually, he knows my brother a little better I think, they’re in a photography club together.”

“Photography club?” Suguru tilted his head in confusion. “Satoru does photography?” 

“Oh, yes. He even won an award last year, was published in the paper, and everything.”

Suguru shook his head in disbelief, “I never would’ve imagined him doing that…”

Sue smiled ruefully, “That’s the same thing I said about Johnny. Of course, I’m still convinced he only joined the club to spend more time with a girl from one of his classes.”

“That’s so crazy,” Suguru returned her smile with one of his own. “How do you know Shoko?”

“She’s… earned herself a bit of a reputation in the medical college. Ieiri san can be… very intense, I've heard. But not only that, her girlfriend, Iori, is my brother’s student advisor. I meet with her a lot so she can vent. Oftentimes, Ieiri tags along.”

“Vent?” Suguru asked.

Sue deadpanned, “Looking after Johnny is a lot of work.”

Suguru nodded, understanding the sentiment all too well, “That’s what it’s like with Satoru sometimes. He’s the biggest handful I’ve ever met.” An endearing smile stretched across his features at the thought of Satoru, though. He’d never be too much of a handful. Suguru would take care of him, and he’d stand beside him when no one else was left.

“You seem to really care for him; your voice went all soft when you said his name.”

Suguru scoffed and turned away, feigning indifference, “It did not.”

The woman beside him burst out laughing. When he turned back to look, she was wiping tears from her eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t think I’d get a reaction like that out of you. Not sure petulant fits you,” Sue said with a wide grin on her face.

Sugru sighed, “It really is that noticeable, huh?”

“Oh, very, you’ve got it bad. From just the way you say his name. It’s dead obvious that you’re in love with him.”

He dragged his hands down his face. He was not expecting to have a conversation like this with a near stranger. He shrugged his shoulders, “To everyone but him, apparently.”

“Oh yikes, yeah, he does seem to be rather oblivious.” Sue adopted a thoughtful look, her hand on her chin, as she studied Suguru. He resisted the urge to squirm. “You just need to perform a grand romantic gesture.” She nodded to her own idea. “Make it so obvious, he’d be a fool to miss it.”

Suguru smiled and shook his head, “He is a fool, but he’s my fool. I’ll consider the advice.”

Sue looked over her shoulder as another volunteer called her name. “I should probably get back to work, but I’m invested in your romantic pursuits now. You got a pen and paper?”

He nodded and rummaged around his bag. He produced a stack of sticky notes and a pen. “Yeah, here you go.”

She swiped them from him and scribbled something done before handing the items back. “Text me and let me know how it goes. I’m looking forward to hearing from you!” She waved and turned toward the other volunteer, “I’ll be right there!”

Suguru laughed, “Okay, I will let you know if I do anything.”

“You better, I grew up with a brother, I punch hard.”

He laughed again, “You’d be good friends with Shoko, I think. Have a good evening.” He bowed and turned toward the door.

“You too!” She called after him as he crossed the threshold into the brisk autumn air.

His phone pinged in his pocket. It was late and he wasn’t entirely sure when Satoru’s last lab ended. He checked his bag before he checked his phone. Suguru wanted to make sure the desserts tucked away weren’t being smooshed. After confirming all was okay, he finally took his phone out of his pocket. A missed call from the mayor’s office greeted him, along with several emails from the mayor’s secretary. There on top, though, was a text from Shoko.

5:37

Shoko: meet me on campus so we can get gojo from his last lab

Shoko: meetings go well?

ME: eeeeh, they were something… lost track of time missed the meeting with the mayor

ME: will def have to do damage control

ME: on my way now, though

ME: to campus, on my way to campus be there in 20

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Shoko was waiting for him in a cafe near the biology block of the science buildings. When she spotted him, she nodded towards the seat across from her. Notes were spread out on the small table, and her laptop was open. She clutched a coffee close in one hand, while a pen occupied the other.

“How were classes?” Suguru asked as he sat down. Shoko shrugged, far more engrossed in whatever note she was currently writing down. “So, how is Iori?” Suguru asked, eyebrows raised.

Shoko slowly looked up from her notes, glaring at him. Suguru smirked back at her. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Shoko said pointedly and glanced over at her laptop.

“Oh, come on, Shoko. You’re going to have to tell me eventually.”

“How is Satoru?” She wielded the question as a perry.

Suguru rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. Last I heard, he was talking to some cutie.”

Shoko’s eyebrows drew together, and her smile fell. “What do you mean?”

Suguru shrugged and put his bag on the table. He dug through it and produced the cake pop he’d bought for her. “I don’t know. I texted him earlier, just as a jest, to ask if he still likes sweets.” He held the cake-pop out to Shoko. 

Her smile returned immediately, and she accepted the sweet treat. “And?” She asked, before taking a bite out of the dessert. 

“And I asked what he was up to and he said -this is a direct quote by the way; on break for fuel and to talk to a cutie,” Suguru said with air quotations.

“He’s talking about you, stupid.”

“No! Because when I asked who it was, all he said was -I’m directly quoting here again; maybe I’ll tell you if you bring me something sweet.”

“You’re an idiot.” That was all Shoko said as she finished her cake pop. She then started collecting all of her notes, placing them carefully in her bag, followed by her laptop. She stood from her chair and grinned at Suguru. “Let’s go get your other braincell.”

Suguru stood and crossed his arms over his chest. “He is not my other braincell.”

“No, just the other half of your soul, or some sappy shit like that,” Shoko teased and stuck out her tongue.

“Shut up,” he said and playfully nudged her.

“Can’t cover up the truth from me, Geto Suguru, I see you for exactly what you are,” Shoko said, adopting a serious tone.

“And what do you see, what am I?” Suguru asked, grinning over at her.

“Completely whipped. Now, let’s go,” she handed him her backpack.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” He asked, taking the bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Carry it, of course. It’s part of the repayment plan.” She waved her hand flippantly as she started walking ahead of him.

Suguru smiled and rolled his eyes, because yeah, he was a little whipped, for both his friends.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

When they entered the building that held Satoru’s lab, they were met with laughter. It was coming from down the hall, in the direction that they were walking.

“His class should be just a -oh!” Shoko’s words were cut off. A blur had run past them, nearly crashing into them.

Suguru’s eyes instantly found Satoru’s retreating backside. “Satoru?” The other man’s head snapped back to look at him.

From his side, Shoko shouted, “Yo! Satoru, watch where you’re going!”

Satoru was obviously in a hurry. His response came as Suguru’s eyes drifted back towards the classroom he’d just stormed out of. “Yeah, yeah. Great, let’s get out of he-”

“Gojo! Get your freak ass back here!” Another person appeared in the doorway. He was drenched, head to toe. Suguru looked back at Satoru. He was already halfway down the hall.

“Catch up later, yeah? Gotta blast!” Satoru called over his shoulder.

“Satoru, wait!” For a fraction of a second, he was split between running after his best friend or confronting this asshole who was currently spewing every middle school insult in existence.

His body moved of its own accord. One moment, he was watching Satoru disappear around the corner. Next, he held a complete stranger by the collar of his shirt. Suguru didn’t say anything at first. “What the hell? Who are you?” The guy demanded. Suguru didn’t answer with words. The next thing that happened happened in slow motion. He punched the other guy; his knuckles made instant contact with the stranger’s nose. 

Suguru faintly registered the spray of blood. Noise buzzed in his ear; he absently thought it was someone calling his name. He felt a weight pulling him back. He wouldn’t let go of the guy, though. Logic slumbered in the recesses of his mind. The only fact he could gather from the situation was that the guy he held by the collar had done something to Satoru. The weight of that something nestled in behind Suguru’s ribs. He threw another punch. This time, he felt the crunch of cartilage beneath the blow. The sound of it set his ears ringing. He dropped him on the floor, like discarded linen.

A more tangible weight tried to pull him back by the shoulders, but Suguru shook it off. He dimly heard someone say his name, but all his focus remained on the man now sprawled out in front of him. “What did you do to him?” The question left him more like a growl than actual words, which shocked him for a moment.

The asshole had the audacity to smile up at Suguru. “I didn’t do anything to that freak.” He punctuated his sentence by spitting at Suguru. The wad of bloody saliva landed right below Suguru’s eye, but he barely registered it.

He pulled his fist back again, fully prepared to land another blow, “What the fuck did you-”

“Yo! Suguru, stop it! Whatever he did, you’ll only make things worse!” Shoko’s words finally reached him. They anchored him halfway back in reality. He wasn’t done here, though. He still wanted answers. If this fucker had anything to do with what happened to Satoru last night, I need to know. I have to know.

“I’ll stop when he tells me what the hell he did.” He shook out of Shoko’s hold. He fell to his knees and gathered the guy’s collar into one hand to pull him closer. He was close enough now to smell the iron of his blood. Suguru’s stomach flipped, but he soldiered on as an eerie calm settled over him. His next words came out even-toned, like he was giving a lecture to an auditorium full of people. “Where the hell were you last night? Did you lay your hands on him? Did you hurt him?”

The guy he held looked barely conscious. His eyes rolled back as he tried to sneer in Suguru’s general direction. He was clutching at Suguru’s wrist, trying to get him to let go.

“Suguru, please.” It was Shoko again. The plea broke past her lips on just a breath. “Let’s just go find Satoru. This isn’t cool, we need to split.”

He didn’t want to. He needed answers like a stranded man needed water in the desert. He gripped the collar with both hands now. Suguru shook him as if damning evidence would fall right out of him and onto the floor. Then he paused and looked off to the side. For just a split second… For just a moment, he could’ve sworn he’d seen Satoru move beside him. I’m seeing shit. 

Whatever it was, it brought Suguru back to himself. He looked down at the ragdoll man he held by the collar. He shook his head, fully breaking the spell. He flung the guy back on the ground. “You’re not worth the effort anyway.” Shoko was there at his side. She offered him a hand up, and he graciously took it. “Let’s go find him,” he murmured to her. Shoko nodded her head and led the way back down the hall.

Suguru’s heart raced, and his mind felt clouded over. The reality of what he’d just done collided with him. Fuck. That was stupid and reckless. Fuck. More damage control for later. Though he knew it was bad, he didn’t feel sorry. He would choose his friends over anything. He would do anything for Satoru. Shoko’s hand found his, and she gave it a comforting squeeze. He glanced over at her. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I know why you did it.”

“The why shouldn’t matter. That was crazy, I put you in danger and probably landed Satoru in a world of shit with that guy.” Suguru stopped walking and dragged his hands down his face. “I really fucked up, Shoko.”

“I don’t know, objectively, it was kinda hot.” His gaze snapped up to her face. She shrugged, “Overprotectiveness is attractive.”

“How can you joke at a time like this? I crossed a line that shouldn’t have been crossed!”

“What matters is he’s safe. If that guy did fuck with him, he’ll think twice before doing it again.” 

Suguru’s shoulders slumped forward. “Let’s just find him.”

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

6:57

Satoru: im safe, just eanted u to know

Satrou: im ok just need to blow off some steam

“Did Satoru text you?” Shoko asked.

“Yeah, just now. He said he’s okay, but I don’t know.” They were in the quad. Shoko sat on a bench while Suguru began to pace. 

ME: okay! that’s fine, satoru. are we still on for dinner?

He looked over at Shoko, who was sprawled out. “I’m thinking you’re going to have to buy your own dinner tonight.

“He is not flaking on us again.” Shoko threw her arm over her eyes. “What is with him recently? I swear he was normal just a few days ago… Well, as close to normal as Gojo can get.”

Suguru stared at his phone; he didn’t get a response. “He’s not answering me.”

“Deja vue, man.” Shoko sat up on the bench, “Looks like you're stuck buying me dinner now, though.”

He barely registered what she said. “I’m going to look for him.”

“Suguru, calm down.” She opened her FindMe app and showed the screen to him. “He’s at the comms building. He’s fine.”

He shook his head. “What if that asshole goes after him, huh? What if… I don’t know. Anything could happen. I’ll just feel better if I could actually see him.”

Shoko stood from the bench and closed the distance between them. Her arms encircled him, and she rested her forehead against his chest. “You can’t protect him from everything. Believe it or not, Satoru has gotten pretty good at taking care of himself. He doesn’t need you to fight his battles for him anymore.”

His shoulders slumped forward, and he wrapped his arms around her. He buried his face in her hair, breathed her in. Her hair smelled like cherry merlot and something slightly sweeter. Suguru let the scent and her warmth anchor him. After a moment, he said. “I know, I just can’t help but fall back on old habits. I just want to be there for him.”

“Yeah, me too,” she softly admitted. The sun had fully gone down now. The night sky yawned open above them. “How about you try to call him once, and then we go get dinner. I’ll be gracious and buy for you this time. You look like you could use a drink.”

Suguru huffed out a breathy laugh, “You’ll graciously buy for me?” He pulled away, just enough to look down at her face.

She pinched his side and smiled, “Yeah, I’ll graciously buy. Unless you want to continue being a pain, then I’ll order the most expensive things on the menu and dine and ditch your ass.” Her arms fell away from him, and she retreated to the bench.

He laughed again and shook his head. “I can’t with you.”

“Yes, you can.” She stuck out her tongue playfully. Then she said, “Go on and call him, I’m starving.”

“Okay, fine.” He flipped her off as he walked down the path a little distance away. His phone sat silently in his pocket. Suguru took a deep breath before retrieving it and opening it to Satoru’s contact. His thumb hovered over the call button, stomach twisting slightly as he recalled all of the voicemails and texts he’d sent the day before. He dispelled the thoughts with a shake of his head and pressed the button.

It rang a few times, and just as Suguru was about to give up, Satoru’s cheery voice poured through the speaker. “Hey, Suguru!” Suguru knew better than to fall for the fake disposition. “I’m still good for soba if you and Shoko-”

“What are you doing at the comms building?” Stupid idea to go straight for an attack, but Suguru couldn’t bring himself to care at that moment.

“Oh, you know… I needed to print something?” It sounded more like a question than a statement of fact.

Suguru chewed on his bottom lip. He didn’t know how to respond. His gaze cast about his surroundings. He adjusted the phone, leaving it to hang between his ear and shoulder. A sigh pushed past his lips before he finally asked: “Satoru, what’s going on?”

Satoru’s next words betrayed him. “Nothing, I just needed some space.” Suguru saw the lie clear as day. Satoru sounded tired and worn down. He sounded nothing like the Satoru Suguru knew and loved.

The next words slipped past his teeth before he could think better of them, “Why do I feel like there’s still an ocean between us?” He knew instantly that it was the wrong thing to say, but he couldn’t take it back.

“I don’t know, Suguru.” Satoru snapped. “Maybe after four years of ignoring me, I’ve forgotten how to talk to you.”

Suguru physically flinched. The words landed like a punch to the gut, like a slap across the face. His face heated. That’s one of the only truths I’ve gotten from him. This is my fault, and I have no idea how to fix it. Silence settled over him like a second skin. He didn’t know what to say to rectify the situation. All he had was “I know I owe you an explanation.” It wasn’t enough. His answer was inadequate to cover the four years of silence that stretched between them like a cannon. The words did nothing to bridge the gap. They were worse than patching holes on a sinking ship with Scotch Tape.

“We don’t owe each other anything. We’re basically strangers. Four years of silence don’t just disappear because you showed up and caught me before I could eat shit. It doesn’t evaporate like vapor because you try to vanquish my bullies. I can handle myself, so just stay out of it.”

The call ended. Suguru immediately tried to call Satoru back, but it didn’t even ring. It just went straight to voicemail. He ran his free hand through his hair. “Shit, this is bad.” He said to himself. Tears burned the back of his eyes, and he didn’t bother to staunch them. He just stood there staring down at his phone, willing it to light up with Satoru’s name.

“Yo! How’d it go -Oh shit, are you okay?” Shoko walked up to him and cupped his face. Gently, she wiped his tears away. “Suguru, what happened?”

He shook his head, “I- Shoko, I think I really did fuck up. I think he hates me now, I-” Suguru gasped for breath. His lungs were constricting; he couldn’t breathe or think straight.

“Hey, it’s okay, just breathe.” Her thumb drew invisible circles over his cheekbone. “Let’s forget the soba. Let’s go back to my place and order pizza. We can watch shitty movies and drink even shittier beer, just like we did back in high school. How does that sound?”

Suguru closed his eyes. He couldn’t get a handle on his breathing, but he nodded his head. He leaned more into Shoko and rested his forehead on her shoulder. Her hands moved to his back, where she continued to trace faint, soothing patterns. “We’ll figure this out.” She promised.

Chapter Text

Thursday October 8th

Sunrays filtered softly through the curtains of Shoko’s living room. They had both fallen asleep on the floor. Discarded pizza boxes still surrounded them, and empty beer cans littered the floor. Suguru sat up slowly, his mind still anchored in a half-drunken haze. His head pounded from his efforts. He winced and brought a hand up to his eyes.

Shoko was still passed out, and a line of drool hung from her open mouth. Suguru’s lips tugged into a smile at the sight of it. He laughed softly to himself as he clambered to his feet. His vision swam a bit, but that was to be expected. He’d drunk a 12-pack all on his own and then some. He carefully crept over to the hallway so he could use the restroom. Shoko usually slept like a ton of bricks, so he didn’t have any real concerns about waking her. He supposed that could’ve changed, though.

As he passed by the front door on his way to the kitchen, he heard a knock. He hesitated for a moment and glanced back at Shoko’s sleeping form. He moved toward the door to see who it was. A small part of his heart hoped it would be Satoru, but he highly doubted it after the events of last night.

When Suguru opened the door, he was stunned to see a very stern-looking woman standing on the other side of it. His voice was a little gravely, both from sleep and dehydration, but he asked, “Can I help you?”

The severe woman arched an eyebrow. It drew attention to the scar stretching across her face. Suguru did his best not to wince at the sight of it. “You can start by explaining why you’re in my fiancé’s apartment.” She then shouldered her way inside.

Suguru reached up to scratch the back of his neck. So this is the fiancé… lovely. He gave her a terse smile, though he knew that she couldn’t see his face. “Well, I’m Geto Suguru. I’ve been friends with Shoko since we both learned to walk.”

She turned to face him, “Oh, so you’re the other idiot.”

Suguru blinked. “Excuse me?” He asked, dumbfounded.

“You’re the matching pair to the white haired guy always following Shoko around. How fitting, he’s the dove to your raven.”

He blinked again, “Gojo?”

She faintly nodded, her hand on her chin in mock concentration. “Yeah, I think that’s who it is. Why aren’t you with him?”

Suguru bristled. The question poked him in all the wrong places. He tried to think back on what Satoru had said about Shoko’s fiancé. She was kinda rude to him, often bullied him, but she was extra sweet to Shoko. Even Susan seemed to like her enough to mention her and continue meeting with her. Suguru was certain they were just starting off on the wrong foot. He could turn this around. He took a deep, calming breath and answered, “He wasn’t feeling well last night, so Shoko decided on just the two of us hanging out.”

“Ah, so that’s why she didn’t want to come over last night.” Iori nodded. Her gaze turned toward Shoko, and it softened, “She’s got a big heart.”

“Yeah, she does,” Suguru agreed. “Has to, to be able to put up with Satoru and me.”

That earned him a soft laugh from Iori. She bowed her head slightly, “Iori Utahime, it’s a pleasure to finally meet the infamous Geto Suguru.”

“Likewise, though I haven’t been told much about you yet. She’s been holding out on me as payback for my extended time away.”

Iori nodded, like she knew exactly what he was talking about. “Yeah, that sounds about right. She was really torn up about it. Even after I met her two years ago, you were a common topic. For both her and Gojo.”

Suguru looked down at his socked feet. Shame swallowed him whole for a moment. “Yeah, it um… It wasn’t a good time. I’m here now, though, and I want to do everything in my power to make it up to both of them.”

“Good.” Suguru looked up at Iori. She held a stern expression, but after a few seconds, it softened again. “Between you and me, she’s already forgiven you.”

A wide grin stretched across his face. “Really? You think so?”

“I know so, she told me. But do not tell her I told you, I’ll have to kill you.”

He grimaced, “Yeah, you two are perfect for each other.”

That got another laugh out of Iori, “A little bit, yeah,” she agreed and looked over at Shoko, who was just waking up. Shoko rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched. 

“Hime, when did you get here?” She asked, voice still soft with sleep.

“I haven’t been here long, love. I stopped by to see if you wanted to go to the French bakery to get breakfast with me.”

A smile instantly pulled at Shoko’s lips, “Will coffee be involved?”

“Obviously, you caffeine addict.”

Shoko smiled again, but when her gaze met Suguru’s, it faltered. “Oh, wait, Suguru, do… Well, this isn’t how I planned for you guys to meet.” She untangled herself from her horde of blankets and stood. “Do you want to come with us?”

Iori’s gaze also turned back to him. He looked between the two of them. He didn’t want to intrude on their morning together. “No, Shoko, it’s alright. I think I’ll swing by Satoru’s house and check in on him and Riko.”

Shoko blinked, “Oh, okay. That’s fine.” She padded over to Iori and lazily hung on the other woman’s shoulder. “Will you text me an update?”

“Yeah, definitely.” He looked around the small living room. He hadn’t brought anything with him besides his bag that hung near the door. “Do you want help cleaning up?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll handle it. Just don’t forget to text me.”

Suguru nodded, “I won’t.” He bowed towards Iori, “It was nice meeting you.”

She dipped her head slightly in his direction, “Looking forward to seeing you around.”

“Yeah, same. Okay, Shoko, I’ll see you later.” He started walking toward the door. Footsteps sounded behind him.

He turned back, and Shoko threw herself at him and gave him a lung-crushing hug. “You okay?” She asked softly.

He twined his arms around her, “Yeah, I’m okay. Have fun.”

She pulled away and smiled up at him, “Oh, I will. Kick his ass for me?”

Suguru grinned, “You know I will.”

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

The scenery had changed overnight. Now it didn’t just feel like autumn, but Tokyo was starting to look the part as well. Leaves with hues of brown, orange, and red crunched underfoot. The sky was cloudy and gray. The air smelled of rain. It was the perfect kind of day to stay home. Perfect to curl up on the couch under a blanket and read a book.

Suguru imagined opening the door to his apartment to the sight of Satoru hanging upside down from his couch. The TV would be playing some shitty romcom or reality TV show. Satoru would have his Switch in hand, more interested in the changing seasons of his game rather than the change happening in real time. He’d smile at Suguru and sit up. There’d be two mugs sitting on the coffee table, one electric blue, the other a soft pastel purple.

They’d cross the distance to each other, Satoru reaching out for Suguru. Suguru would grab his waist and pull him in by the waistband of his joggers. Satoru’s hands would magnetize to Suguru’s face. He’d cup his cheeks and run his cooled thumbs over Suguru’s cheekbones before inevitably moving on to twine his long fingers in Suguru’s hair, pulling at the hairtie, until the onyx locks spilled down his back.

The apartment was void of life, save for his plants. Satoru hadn’t even been to Suguru’s new apartment yet. He hadn’t had the chance to bring him, couldn’t recall if he’d even mentioned it yet. Suguru sighed and put his keys and wallet down on the entryway table. His phone had died, so he hadn’t been able to try to call Satoru. Though he doubted the other guy would even pick up.

He slipped off his shoes and slung his coat over the couch on his way to the kitchen. He needed coffee and needed Excedrin to kill the headache his hangover had gifted him. He started the coffee maker and then padded down the hall to his room. He’d take a quick shower, tidy up a bit, and then figure out how he was going to remedy the Satoru situation. He grabbed the Excedrin bottle from his medicine cabinet and tapped three pills out onto his tongue before swallowing them dry.

After the shower, he gathered up the few articles of clothing that lay abandoned in his room. His hand hovered above the sweats he borrowed from Satoru. Memories that he was now convinced were all a fever dream swam to the forefront of his mind. Sweats in hand, he sat on the edge of his bed. “How do I fix this?” He asked the empty room. Suguru had no idea where to even start. If Satoru wasn’t even going to give him the time of day, how was Suguru meant to repair the damage?

He felt lost in a dense fog —his north star was concealed by thick gray storm clouds. Suguru was stuck in the fog with no sense of direction. This was not what his homecoming was supposed to be like. He’d never imagined that Satoru would completely ice him out like this. He balled up the joggers and tossed them across the room, vaguely in the direction of his laundry basket. 

He would wash the clothes and return them. That would give him an excuse to stop by Satoru’s apartment. The pants caught on the side of the basket, and something metal clanged to his bedroom floor. At first, he didn’t know what it was, but as he stood up from the bed, he remembered. Oh. He carefully padded over to the small object and gingerly picked it up. He held it between his index finger and thumb. 

Though light, the weight of it gave Suguru the reassurance he needed. If Satoru had kept this, it must mean something. At least Suguru hoped it did. He pocked it, smiling softly to himself. It’s time for a grand gesture. 

Suguru gathered up the rest of the laundry and carried the basket down the hall. He tossed in the load and then walked back out to his kitchen, where he was met with the stark aroma of coffee. He grabbed his mug from the coffee maker and made his way over to the couch. His phone waited for him on its charging port.

He dialed Satoru’s number. It went straight to voicemail. Suguru looked at the time: 11:42 am. He knew Satoru only had two classes today, just like his Tuesday schedule. He should be on break at the moment. Suguru checked his location, but the app just told him that Satoru’s last known location was the comms building.

A frustrated sigh left him. He called the apartment, but no one picked up. He supposed that Riko was also at school. Suguru dragged his hands down his face. He wanted to give Satoru space, he really did. But Suguru was also sick of it. They’d had enough time apart; they were supposed to be making up for lost time, not adding to it. He placed his phone back on the charging port. He’d come up with a plan later. His headache was bothering him again. A quick power nap and then I’ll figure out what my next move is.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Suguru bought flowers. He felt a little silly, but his internet research yielded that flowers were a key ingredient to grand gestures. In his bag, he carried the borrowed clothing and two cinnamon rolls. Also, under his arm was a box of chocolates. Sweets were another essential cornerstone, both for apologies and grand gestures. Suguru was going all in; he would have to simply make it impossible for Satoru not to understand the feelings he was trying to convey.

The elevator was still broken. So Suguru trudged up the stairs. Shoko had texted him earlier since he hadn’t sent an update. She sent him encouragement and wished him luck. Shoko also said she’d beat Satoru up if he didn’t at least give Suguru a chance to explain himself. He felt a little nervous when he finally reached the front door. Actually, he felt like he was going to throw up, and his palms were clammy, but it was reaching now or never territory, and Suguru wanted this. 

So, he knocked on the door. He tried taking deep, slow breaths to slow his racing heart. He could barely hear anything over it. His free hand ran anxiously through his hair. Then, he tried to smooth down any fly-aways. No one answered, and his stomach twisted. Satoru should definitely be home by now. Suguru knocked again. Still, the door did not open. He strained his ears to listen for any noise that indicated someone was on the other side, but he heard nothing.

Just as he was about to give up, someone called his name from down the hall. He turned to see Riko running up to him. “What brings you here?” She smiled when she saw the flowers.

“I’m…” Suguru looked down at his shoes and frowned a little. “I’m returning the clothes I borrowed. Is Satoru home?”

“He should be. His phone is broken currently, so I told him he'd better have his ass home by the time I got back today so I’d know he was safe.”

Suguru’s head snapped up. “His phone is broken?”

“Yeah, he was being an idiot and dropped it apparently.” Riko rummaged in her bag for her keys. “You can come in if you’d like.”

He nodded, “Yeah, that would be great.”

She found her keys and stepped towards the door. Her back was to him when she asked, “So you need flowers and candies to return clothes now?” He didn’t need to see her face to know she had a shit-eating grin plastered there.

“That’s what the internet said.”

Riko doubled over, and she laughed so hard. “Oh, is that what it said?”

Suguru groaned, “Yes, it definitely said that. Are you going to open the door this year?”

She wiped a tear from her eye, “I’m getting to it,” she said through more laughter.

After a few seconds more of him grumbling and her laughing, the door swung open. Satoru stood there with sleep-tousled hair, a baggy shirt, and a pair of basketball shorts. His mouth was open like he was going to say something, but it snapped shut the moment he saw Suguru. He turned on his heels and disappeared. Suguru winced when he heard a door slam.

“Oh, so that’s what the flowers and candy are for.” Riko glanced back at Suguru. “Stay here for a moment, I’ll go talk to him.”

Suguru nodded, and Riko slipped into the apartment. He stood there for what felt like an eternity. The flowers hung loosely from his hand. He shifted weight between his feet before sighing and leaning against the wall. Satoru was not going to give him a chance. Suguru smacked his free hand against his forehead before dragging it down his face. He felt dejected; the small kindle of hope quickly diminished when Riko reappeared. 

“He’s not feeling well… I think maybe you should come back later.”

“Riko, please let me talk to him.” Suguru felt like he couldn’t breathe. “I just need five minutes, please.”

Riko hesitated. She glanced back at the closed door. “I’m sorry, I…” She shook her head. “Suguru, now just isn’t a good time.”

“Bullshit, he’s just in there sulking.”

Her shoulders fell forward, “I’m not saying I agree with it. He just needs some space.”

Suguru stared into her wide blue eyes. She was chewing on her bottom lip. He didn’t want her to have to be a buffer between them. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “Fine.” He held out the flowers and the chocolates. “There for him anyways.” She took them, and he opened his bag. “Here are the clothes as well. Will you just keep me updated?”

She nodded, “I can do that.” She turned back to the door, as if she were going to leave. Suguru was preparing to walk away, too. But then Riko added, “Just give him time… It’s been really hard for him the past few years.”

Suguru kept his temper in check the best he could. “I know that. I might’ve been absent, but I know that it was rough.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn’t dare look in her direction. “Does he not think I know that? How could I not know?”

“Suguru, it’s okay. He knows, he’s just confused.”

He scoffed. “Like I’m not? Am I not allowed to be equally confused and hurt?” His hands tore through his hair as he searched for something to anchor him. He felt lightheaded and dizzy from the conversation. “I didn’t want to leave, and if I could just sit down with him, I could make him understand why I stayed away so long.” His hands fell limp to his sides. “Riko, if I had the choice, I never would have left him like that. You have to believe me.”

“I do,” Riko said earnestly. “And in his heart, Satoru knows, too. You just have to give him the time and space to work it all out in that thick head of his.”

“I don’t think I have it in me to wait for this any longer.”

“Just give him a couple of days.”

“He can have today.” Suguru relented. “But I’ll be back tomorrow. He can’t avoid me forever.”

“If you force a confrontation, it could get worse. He’s nearing a total shutdown. It’s like junior year all over again.”

Suguru paused, the gears in his head trying to work out a conclusion for itself. As if he could guess at the answer. “Riko, what else is wrong? It can’t just be me.” She poked at the ground with the toe of her flats. She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Please just tell me, I’m grasping at straws here.”

“We may lose the apartment,” she answered in a timid voice.

“What?” He couldn’t have heard her correctly.

“I got a notice in the mail that rent is going up… Auntie is working on figuring it out. I’m sure it will-”

“When did you get the notice?”

“Last week… but Satoru only found out about it last night. We had a huge argument over it.”

Suguru fell quiet. That can’t be the only thing. “What else? Has… No, do you know if… Ugh, Riko, there has to be something else. He’s been acting so weird and not like himself this whole time.”

“Suguru, I really don’t know. He won’t talk to me either.”

None of it made sense to him. Satoru’s erratic behavior, his going missing, then turning up half dead, and the altercation with the other student. Suguru tried to sort through everything, but there were too many gaps in the information. “Was he acting like this before Monday? Before he went on his field trip, was he… was he acting as strange as he is now?”

“No, he was fine last week. I just figured it was because you showed up unannounced. You know how he used to get when anything unexpected happened.”

No. I’m not the problem. Well, I’m not the primary issue at least. There’s another potential catalyst. Something big happened, and I ignored it at first, but I don’t think I can ignore it any longer. “Yeah, maybe it really did mess him up a little bit. Riko, I’m sorry, but I just remembered I have somewhere I need to be.” He turned and bee-lined it to the stairwell.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Suguru paced his kitchen; his phone sat on the island. This is fucking insanity. There’s no way. I’m jumping to conclusions. He stopped pacing and braced his hands against his counter. But if there’s even the smallest chance I’m right, I have to know. Suguru grabbed the phone from the counter and scrolled through his call log. I’m wrong. There’s just no way this can be true.

He sighed and selected a number. The phone rang a few times, but then a familiar voice answered. “Ru? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, Dad, just wanted to check in.”

Suguru heard rustling on the other end. “Everything is right as rain here.”

“That’s good, I’m glad you’re doing okay.”

“Just miss my boy a bit, but work fills the void.” His dad’s laugh echoed through the speaker. 

“I miss you too. I actually have a question for you.”

Silence fell on the other end. Suguru took a deep breath. This, too, was a bad idea. “Need money for pizza?”

“What?” Suguru’s eyebrows creased in confusion.

“Isn’t that what kids call their parents these days?” His dad laughed again.

Suguru gave a half-hearted laugh in return. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to free pizza. But that wasn’t my question.”

“Your wish is my command, Ru. Always.”

“It’s kind of a serious question.”

“Suguru, are you in trouble?”

“Well, no, but if you wanted to call the mayor on my behalf, it wouldn’t hurt. I missed a meeting with him, and I don’t know how- wait, no, that’s not it. Dad, it’s something work-related.”

“I could give him a call if you need me to.”

“No, don’t worry about it. My actual question is directly related to your work. The stuff you researched here, before moving.”

“Suguru, there isn’t a lot that I keep from you, but you know I don’t like to talk about that. It’s in the past.”

“I know, dad. I don’t need specifics. Just,” Suguru sighed. “Did you work with someone with the alias Star?” His dad fell quiet. Suguru knew he was entering uncharted territory. His father really didn’t like to talk about this topic. He felt bad that he was souring a lucid moment for him, but Suguru needed to know. “Dad?”

“I don’t know what you are getting involved in, but if you thought things were bad in the last research division you worked, you have no idea just how fucked up things can really get.”

“So you know them?”

“Suguru, stay out of it. Whatever it is, if that person is involved, you want nothing to do with it.”

His father sounded genuinely scared, which frightened the life right out of Suguru. “Okay, I’ll stay out of it. I promise.”

“Good. Now, how much did you need?”

“What?”

His father laughed once more. “For the pizza. And they say I’m losing my mind.”

“Oh, I don’t actually need pizza money.” Suguru laughed too, though the dread clung to him like goo.

“Alright, my sunshine boy, I will talk to you later. Unless there’s anything else you need.”

“No, that was it. I love you.”

“Love you, too, Ru. Stay out of trouble!”

The phone call did not go according to plan, though his father is not who he originally planned to call anyway. Something in his gut told him he was onto something and that his concerns were well-founded.

He scrolled back through his call log and dialed the unknown number from the other day.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Friday October 9th

Suguru was standing outside Satoru’s apartment again. Riko had been fielding the apartment phone. Guarding the door like a sentinel, but now she wasn’t home. Satoru couldn’t use her as a shield any longer. Suguru hadn’t worked up the nerve to knock yet, though. First, he tried calling the apartment phone, but predictably, Satoru didn’t answer. 

He waited a minute more and then knocked. “Satoru, I know you’re home!” He shouted through the door. Then he silently waited, praying he’d hear the lock turning. It didn’t happen. He knocked again. “Satoru, please! We need to talk about this! Just let me in.”

Again, his pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears. Suguru smacked his open palm against the door. “Satoru! Let me in, you can’t hide in there forever.” Still, Satoru did not answer. Frustrated, Suguru smacked his open palms against the door, then ran them through his already disheveled hair.

He’d barely slept last night. Every time he closed his eyes and his breathing started to slow, another horrible memory would surface. Images of the past and even things that hadn’t happened yet, but were equally horrifying. At this point, Suguru just wanted to lay eyes on Satoru at the very least. He just wanted to make sure he was okay. 

Above all else, he wanted to ensure his friend remained wholly himself. That whatever parasite may be lurking beneath his skin hadn’t stolen him from Suguru. After his conversation with Star last night, Suguru was almost certain he was right. The entire thing had been creepy and cryptic, and it all made Suguru feel nauseous and helpless. He leaned his forehead against the door. “Satoru… please, I just want to know you’re okay.” The words were uttered barely above a whisper. If the pale-haired boy hadn’t heard his shouting, Suguru’s soft-spoken words certainly couldn’t reach him.

Suguru’s vision blurred as his eyes watered. He didn’t bother to wipe away the tears. They fell in rivulets down his cheeks, pooled upon the collar of his shirt. He thumped his head against the door. He was out of options. Satoru didn’t want to see him, and only the ugly side of Suguru’s heart hated him for it. He hated himself more. If only he’d tried harder to connect with Satoru over the last four years. 

He didn’t want to dwell on the past when he had a shit load more problems to deal with in the present. Unfortunately, it was all interconnected. He would get nowhere if he didn’t own up to what he’d done. Currently, he couldn’t even do that. Not if Satoru wouldn’t listen to him. Suguru’s chest hurt; he was sobbing now. The sound echoed through the hallway. 

This was a nightmare personified. He’d never imagined Satoru would ice him out to this degree. He wasn’t delusional enough to actually believe they’d pick up where they left off. Especially since the terms of where they left off were unclear. Neither boy had promised the other anything beyond seeing each other later, and Suguru had fucked that up royally. Suguru couldn’t blame Satoru, couldn’t truly hate him for this. Out of everything going on, Satoru’s reaction was probably the most normal thing. 

Suguru wanted nothing more than to fix this, though. He wanted to pull the weeds and plant something new and stable. If only the other wanted that too, and part of Satoru must. Even if he wasn’t entirely lucid the other night, Suguru knew that Satoru must want the same thing as him. He was willing to fight for that singular ember of hope. 

Suguru eventually collected himself enough to walk away from the door. He’d just have to keep showing up. If that was the only way to prove to Satoru that he still cared about him, he’d do it. Suguru would do anything for him, even if it meant selling his soul again.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Shoko sat across from him in a booth of a cute little Italian cafe near his house. “You didn’t have to drag yourself away from work just for my pity party.”

She shrugged; her eyes were downcast toward her phone screen. “Utahime has been telling me I need to get out more. I’m always holed up somewhere on campus or passed out on my couch. Plus I was hungry.”

“Sounds rough.”

Shoko groaned and dropped her forehead to the table. “Clinicals are killing me. I was never interested in healing the body, Suguru. I was only in it for the bones.”

“The bones?” He asked, slightly concerned for his skeleton’s safety.”

She only nodded her head and took a bite of the blueberry muffin they’d been sharing. “I just like the look and feel of them.”

Suguru stared at her. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re super creepy.”

The girl in front of him smirks, “What, you scared of little ol’ me?” She’d brought her legs up and tucked them beneath her on the booth.

“Pfft, please. You wish I were scared of you.” Suguru nabbed the muffin from her and crammed the rest of it in his mouth. He grinned around his mouthful and leaned back in his seat.

Shoko reached out and karate chopped his head, “You jerk. What part of I’m hungry didn’t you get? Go get me another muffin!”

Suguru swatted her away and laughed. “I don’t think I want to.”

“You'd better want to, or I’ll flay you like a fish.” She said simply and sat back in the booth.

“You wouldn’t, who would buy you sweet treats if you got rid of me?”

“I have a fiancé,” she quickly reminded him. “She gets me anything I want, whenever I want.”

Suguru rolled his eyes, “I always knew you’d marry rich.”

Shoko grinned, “Funny, so did I. Now go get me a new muffin.”

Suguru groaned, but relented. He laughed as he stood from the table. Waiting in line, his phone buzzed against his thigh. Dread took root in his stomach. After ordering Shoko a new muffin and him an American espresso, Suguru stood off to the side to wait and check his phone. He had a new text from an unknown number. His eyebrows creased as he opened it.

4:38 pm

UNKNOWN: hey you 😛

ME: who is this?

UNKNOWN: ow! howd you forget so soon

UNKNOWN: here i thought we shared something special

His concentration broke when he heard his name called by the cashier. He frowned down at his screen before repocketing the phone. He grabbed the order and strode back over to their table.

“Why do you look so serious?” Shoko asked as she reached for the parchment bag that held her dessert.

“Nothing, I just got a text from a random number.”

“Unsolictied dick pics?” Shoko asked around a mouthful of muffin. Crumbs fell out and stuck to her chin.

Suguru reached out and brushed them away. “No, nothing like that.” He rolled his eyes at her antics. His phone buzzed in his pocket again.

“That them?” Shoko’s eyebrows raised.

“Probably.” Suguru took his phone out.

4:43

UNKNOWN: its sue by the way

“Actually, it’s Susan Storm. She mentioned she knows you.”

“Oh my god, really?” Shoko’s eyes went wide as saucers. “Where did you meet Sue? I love her, she’s so fun.”

“I met her the other day. She volunteers at this place called FEAST. I had a meeting with the director.”

“Right, that’s the meeting that ran over, right?”

“That would be the one.” He looked back down at his phone and typed out an apology.

ME: oooh, hey! sorry i ddi mean to text you, life just got kinda crazy

UNKNOWN: thats ok! i figured any news to share?

ME: romantic gesture still in progress hes kinda ignoring me rn so thats a bit of an issue

Shoko leaned across the table to look at his phone. “Tell her I said hi.”

Suguru rolled his eyes and read the next text.

UNKNOWN: oh that sucks 😣 i asked my brother about him but i guess he hasnt been to club this week

ME: i think he’s just got a lot going on

ME: also, shoko says hi by the way

UNKNOWN: well hopefully youll get a chance to talk to him soon!

UNKNOWN: omg tell her i said hi too!!! im looking forward to seeing her and iori tomorrow :nod

ME: yeah, hopefully! i’ll let you know when it happens

Suguru glanced back up at Shoko. She was sitting back in her seat now, muffin completely devoured. “Sue says hi. She’s looking forward to seeing you and Iori tomorrow for lunch.”

Shoko looks across the table. “Oh shit, I double booked myself.” She pulls out her own phone and starts furiously typing away. “I have a group lab to complete, and I pushed it back to tomorrow, but I totally forgot about the lunch.”

“Oh shit, sorry, it’s probably my fault, then.”

She shook her head, “No, life is just crazy. I don’t need to be at the lunch, but I think it’s the last chance I’ll get to see her before she returns to the States.”

“Well, you gotta go see her then. You never know when the next time will be.”

Shoko laughed, “Yeah, you would know, wouldn’t you?”

Suguru scrunched up his nose in response. He’d walked right into that one. “Yeah… I guess I do.” Silence enveloped them for a moment. The carefree energy evaporated. He picked at his cuticles. He’d been so focused on making it up to Satoru that he hadn’t really considered how much his absence also affected Shoko. She’d mainly just joked and given him shit for it, but she’d always used humor as a way to deflect. They all had. “I would really like to sit down sometime and explain myself. I just…”

Shoko looked up from her phone. She reached across the table and put her hands over his, stilling his fidgeting movement. “Suguru, it’s okay. I mean, yeah, it sucked having my childhood best friend disappear on me, but you’re back now. At the end of the day, that’s all that really matters to me.”

He sighed, keeping his sights set on their hands. “How can you dismiss it so easily? It was such a shit thing to do.”

Shoko squeezed his hands. He looked up to find a sad smile etched on her face. “It was a shit thing to do. But the Suguru I knew wouldn’t have done it without reason.”

Suguru chewed on his bottom lip and averted his gaze again. He let the words sink in. On barely more than a breath, he asked, “What if I’m not the same Suguru?”

“The fact that you’re even asking a ridiculous question like that is evidence enough that you are.”

He didn’t have a response for that. He didn’t feel like the same Suguru, but despite the time that had passed them by, she still felt like the same Shoko. It made him slightly envious. She squeezed his hands again, “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“The passage of time,” Suguru replied honestly.

“Hey, don’t get in your head about it, alright? You can still tell me if you want. I’m always willing to lend an ear, but don’t force it out of yourself, alright?”

He nodded and then sighed. “Thanks, Shoko. It means a lot to me, really.”

She grinned at him, “Does that mean you’ll buy me another muffin?”

Suguru rolled his eyes and laughed. He withdrew his hands from hers so he could cross his arms over his chest. “I thought you had a finance for that.”

She flippantly moved her hand, waving his statement off. “She’s not here right now, you’ll have to fill in for the job.”

Suguru laughed again and sighed contentedly. “Okay, I’ll go buy another muffin.”

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Saturday October 10th

Evening was approaching when Suguru got off his train in Tochigi. He checked the address on his phone again. He’d put it in his maps app, but from what he could tell, the location was abandoned. He’d decided not to stop by Satoru’s today. He called Riko for an update instead. She’d informed him that Satoru was still sulking in his room, even she hadn’t seen much of him.

When his taxi arrived at the location, the driver looked at him with raised eyebrows. Suguru didn’t offer an explanation. He paid and then exited the vehicle with a polite bow. He surveyed his surroundings in the dying light. It still looked abandoned, and now he could see it wasn’t even a proper building. It was just a parking garage. 

A chain-linked fence encircled the area. He sighed and decided to walk the perimeter to see if he could find an opening. After almost 20 minutes of walking, someone came up behind him and grabbed his shoulder. He froze on the spot. “Can I help you?” The person asked with a gravily voice.

Suguru chanced a glance over his shoulder. He wasn’t sure what to make of the person standing behind him. He faced forward again, silently praying to any higher power that would listen that he wasn’t about to die at the hands of someone dressed as a panda bear. “I’m looking for Star, she said to meet her here before sundown.” It was an ambiguous time, but the sun hadn’t fully set, so it must be within the range of their expectations.

“Star?” The guy asked. 

Suguru nodded, “Yes, that’s the name I was given.”

The guy, whom Suguru now supposed was some kind of guard, didn’t say anything. He heard faint static, which he assumed was some kind of radio. Then he was being shoved against the fence. The guard patted down Suguru’s body. “Empty your pockets.”

“Um, okay. Hard to do when I’m smooshed against a fence though.”

The guard huffed and stepped back. Suguru turned to face him and did as he was instructed. He dropped his bag to the ground, scooting it closer to the guy with his foot. “Don’t move!” He shouted. 

Suguru’s eyebrows raised. “I’m just doing what you told me to do.”

“I said nothing about moving foreign objects closer to me! What if your bag has a bomb in it?”

Suguru blinked. “What? Why would I have a bomb?”

“Just empty your pockets!” The guy yelled, stepping closer to shove Suguru into the fence again. 

What the fuck is going on here. “Okay, shit. You don’t have to shove me so hard.” Suguru turned out his pockets. His phone and an old piece of paper were the only things he carried there.

The guard snatched them from his hand and picked up Suguru’s bag. He rummaged through it and nodded to himself. “Good, no weapons. You’re allowed in.”

“Great, allowed in where?” Suguru asked.

“To the fight club.”

He blinked again, his eyebrows lifed in confusion. “What?”

“Are you slow?” The guard asked and chortled.

“No, I just don’t know where I am. The instructions were vague. I was told to meet Star here before sundown, but I don’t even know where here is, honestly!” 

“It’s the fight club,” the guard stated simply.

Suguru ran his hands down his face. “Okay, great, where’s the entrance to this fight club, and where should I go once I’m in?”

“It’s through the door.”

This fucking guy. Is he being serious right now? “Okay, thank you for your help.” He held out his hands, assuming he’d be allowed to have his stuff back. The guard just stared at him. “Um, can I have my things back?”

“Oh, sure you can.” The guard didn’t move though. Suguru sighed and tried to step forward, but the guard held out his hand. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Grabbing my stuff.”

“No, you get them back when you leave.”

Another hand clasped Suguru’s shoulder. “Geto Suguru, right on time. Good, I do not like to be kept waiting.”

The voice felt like a bucket of ice water being dumped over Suguru’s head. His spine went ridgid and he fought the urge to rip away from the other person. He took a deep breath, but seeing the guard’s reaction had him damn near gasping like a fish out of water. Even through the obnoxiously large suit, Suguru could make out the tremor in the guard’s body.

“I try my best to be punctual.” Suguru managed to say. Star released him and he strained to hear the sound of their footsteps behind him.

“I’d suggest you follow.” Star said.

Suguru turned on his heels, belongings completely forgotten as he quickly caught up to Star’s retreating back. “Where are we going?”

“My office.”

Suguru wasn’t sure what to say. He was still shaking off the frozen shock of Star’s sudden appearance. His shoulder where they had grabbed him felt numb. He didn’t dare reach up to feel it. Suguru followed behind silently, trying to keep pace with Star’s fast pace. They both entered through a whole in the fence. Suguru willfully ignored the subtle frost left behind where Star had touched the chain-link.

Soon they were entering the decrepit parking garage. Inside though, the building came to life. There were neon lights everywhere, causing him to squint his eyes. Cigarette smoke clung thickly to the air. He’d kill for one of those, but he tampted it down and followed still. 

When they arrived at what he assumed was Star’s office, the door opened on its own. Star ushered him inside. “Take a seat.”

Suguru did, though his stomach protested. He should’ve listened to his father, he shouldn’t be here, this had nothing to do with Satoru whatsoever. Suguru had let his imagination get the best of him and now he needed to make his escape.

“You’re sweating.” Star observed.

“Little warm in here, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Star didn’t elaborate on what that meant. They simply sat across on the desk infront of Suguru and asked, “What changed your mind?”

He’d planned out this part at least. “I realized rather quickly I wouldn’t get anywhere fast on my own.”

“Is that so?” Star asked. They appeared quite bored with the conversation. 

Suguru felt a little unsure, but pushed forward. “Yes. The vision I have is too big for the resources that are readily available. No one has…” He trailed off for a moment. How far did he want to take this? As far as he had to, he supposed. “No one in the above ground field can match my ambition and drive. I thought I’d look and see what you have to offer me. Might as well know all my options before I make my bed.”

Star’s lip twitched slightly, if he’d blinked he would’ve missed it. “I have a gift, one I possessed far before coming to work for Ryomen Tech.”

Suguru’s eyebrows raised, “Really?”

Star nodded, “And since working here, I have gained other gifts.”

Suguru’s mouth went dry. These were leading statements, but he couldn’t decipher where he was being led. “Sounds like they have a great benefits package,” he joked, but it fell harder than a lead balloon.

Star reached out to grip his wrist. The touch seared, it was so cold. Suguru gasped and tried to stand, but with only a hand, Star held him down. “I know exactly why you're here, Geto. I hate having my time wasted. So I will give you exactly one chance to redeem yourself.”

His mind scrambled for purchase. He couldn’t hold onto one thought. The pain from their grip burned through his whole arm. The only thought he could seem to latch onto was the fact that his death felt imminent. He was going to leave his father here in this world all alone. He’d never know what happened to his son; he would truly lose his mind then. Suguru couldn’t bear the thought of it. His eyes were screwed shut from the pain, but tears still managed to make their way past.

“You really were a waste of my time then?” Star asked. Their other hand tenderly cupped the side of Suguru’s cheek. They wiped away a stray tear. The gesture was so at odds with what the rest of his body felt. The cold seeping out of Star’s grasp was burrowing beneath his skin. It crawled right in his chest and hunkered down, stealing his breath away.

“W-wait!” He managed. Star said nothing, but something inside him quieted enough for him to think. “Okay, you’re right.” The cold retreated slightly. Making room for oxygen. He gasped, but pushed forward, “I’m here on behalf of my friend.”

Star released him and settled themself back on the desk. “There you go. We’ll go much farther together if you’re honest with me.”

Suguru was still working overtime to catch his breath. His heart pounded in his chest. He could feel his pulse in his temple. “So you know already? You know what’s happened to him?”

“More than you, I suspect.” Star crossed their arms. “That’s why I invited you here.”

“What do you mean?” Suguru asked.

“We are in for a treat tonight.”

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Suguru sat in a room with a wall of monitors. His stuff had been returned to him, sort of. His bag and phone remained on the desk behind him. He was currently tied to a plastic chair, like one commonly found in primary schools. Suguru was facing the monitors, which displayed security footage from around the fight club. The CCTV footage was black-and-white and super grainy, but Suguru knew which screen was supposed to capture his attention.

There was nothing, not blindness nor deafness, that would keep him from recognizing the boy on the center screen. Even with his signature white hair covered and his bright blue eyes concealed, Suguru would know him anywhere. The moment Satoru showed up on screen, the guard had to tie Suguru down. He’d kicked and thrown punches, but whoever was safely sequestered in the panda suit had superhuman strength. Just another of the many gifts Roymen Tech has dolled out, it seems.

So Suguru had no other choice but to watch the love of his life get trampled and buried by the monstrous man who was his opponent. Satoru was nothing more than a lamb being brought to slaughter. They were serving him up to the wolves on a silver platter. He looked like a kid standing in front of his opponent. Suguru watched Satoru run his hands down his tracksuit, a tell-tale sign that he was beyond nervous. Suguru’s chest constricted. What had even led Satoru to be here? Suguru’s mind fled with all the different possibilities. All led to Ryomen Tech being the puppet master.

He hadn’t got much of an answer from Satoru when they dumped him here. They’d just said that he’d want to stay for the show. Suguru did not want to watch this. He had no way of getting to Satoru, especially now that he was tied up. He’d have to be smart about this, although he guessed he was far past the point of being smart. This whole night had gone to absolute shit because of his own stupidity.

Back on the screen, Satoru planted his feet across from his opponent, who cracked his neck. Suguru faintly heard an alarm sounding. Then the meat head was rushing at Satoru. Suguru’s heart plummeted. He was going to be sick if he were forced to watch this any further. Satoru avoided him, though; he’d flipped back onto one of the ring’s posts.

Suguru had seen the other guy on the news. He was wanted for murder. Satoru was fighting a wanted murderer. The criminal matched Satoru step for step. Suguru watched as Satoru’s foot was torn out from under him. He immediately plummeted to the ground. Suguru strained against his binds. “Knock it off!” The guard shouted at him. 

“I just really have to take a piss, man. You think you could help me out?” It was worth a shot.

“I don’t know. What if you try to run?”

“Can’t focus on running if I have to pee, I’ve got no coordination.”

The guard stood there for a moment. It was hard for Suguru to know what the guy was thinking, but finally he took a step forward. “Alright, but I won’t hesitate to put you in a headlock if I need to.”

Suguru nodded, “Understood. You’re just trying to do your job.”

“Yeah, it’s nothing personal.”

“I get it.” 

The guard began to undo his binds. Suguru looked back up at the screen in time to see Satoru headbutt the other guy. He felt his bindings loosen and slip from around his body and wrists. He stood slowly when the guard placed his hand on his arm. I only have one shot at this; it has to go perfectly. He was being led toward the door; he’d need to do this in here to avoid attracting attention. Taking inspiration from Satoru, Suguru threw his head back. 

He had wanted to headbutt the guard, but he only managed to hit his shoulder. It seemed to work out well for him, though. The guard released him and staggered back, slightly stunned. “What was that for?” The guard huffed indignantly. These guys are idiots. 

Suguru didn’t bother answering. He charged at the guard and threw all his weight at him. They both fell to the floor. Suguru just barely managed to clamber onto. The guard tried to buck him off, but it was of no use, Suguru simply wanted to win this more than the guard did. He needed to win, so he could help Satoru. Suguru grabbed hold of the head of the panda costume and ripped it off. 

It took all his self-control not to stagger backwards. The guard's face had been completely mutilated. No wonder they paraded them around in these ridiculous costumes; they were all probably throwaway experiments. Suguru’s blood boiled. “What happened to you? What did they do to you?” He demanded. The guard didn’t answer -or rather, he couldn’t answer. He started gasping for breath and reaching out for the helmet Suguru had tossed aside.

He did stagger back then. Suguru was absolutely horrified. The guard struggled for only a few seconds more before his body went eerily still. A heartbeat later, an alarm blared from the suit. Suguru tried to cover his ears with his hands, but the sound was high enough frequency that he felt his eardrums would rupture. He pushed himself off the ground and ran to the desk to collect his things. 

The footage on the center screen of the CCTV footage made him pause. Satoru was on his back, and his opponent stood above him. One heel ground into Satoru’s sternum. Suguru’s stomach rolled, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Not until the footage warped for a moment. Suguru blinked and found that Satoru had somehow transported to the other side of the ring. He couldn’t believe it, couldn’t even begin to wrap his mind around it. 

It seemed that Satoru had gained the advantage then, but just as quickly, his face paled. It was a feat considering the footage was in greyscale, but Suguru saw the blood drain from his friend’s face clear as day. Fushiguro… Fuck, that’s him, isn’t it? The butcher, shit. I need to get Satoru out of there. Suguru knew the guy, knew more about him than he’d like. He was far from being just dangerous. The best outcome a person could hope for was a simple, clean death. 

The alarm from the guards' suit grew louder. It was his cue to get the fuck out of there. Movement on the other screens caught his attention. More guards were on their way. Suguru chanced one more glance at Satoru’s screen. He watched him knock the butcher off one of the posts. Now or never. 

Suguru busted through the door and took off down the hallway. He could hear heavy footsteps following after him. He’d made a plan, though. While sitting in front of all of the security footage, he’d managed to construct a mental map of the parking garage. He turned several corners and then flew up a flight of stairs. He just needed to make it down one more corridor and then there would be a door waiting for him.

It seemed that luck was on Suguru’s side. He reached the door just as the guards turned the corner. Suguru slipped inside undetected. In the room was a plethora of levers and valves. He wasn’t sure which would cause the outcome he wanted. He took a deep breath and pulled the largest red lever down. The room was plunged in darkness. He only hoped that meant the rest of the building had been as well.

He heard shouting and frightened screams. He remained in the utility room for as long as he could bear. Breath held, he carefully inched the door open. The hallway was only illuminated by a lone emergency exit sign. He let out a relieved sigh. Holy shit. It actually worked… Well, hopefully. I gotta find Satoru and make sure he’s okay. 

He crept through the darkened building, dodging guard patrols the best he could. Suguru did not find Satoru, but he also didn’t run into Star… or the Butcher for that matter. He’d finally made it outside when someone grabbed his shoulder and threw him roughly into the side of the building. His body tensed as he hit the concrete wall. He didn’t dare open his eyes as he waited for the next assault.

Nothing happened, though. He cautiously cracked one eye open. Another guard dressed as a panda stood towering above him. “It was you, wasn’t it?”

“What?” Suguru asked, slightly confused. He’d just done a lot of things. Best know exactly what he’s being accused of.

“You killed him, didn’t you?”

Suguru’s gaze fell to his lap. Had he killed the other guard? He hadn’t intended on killing him. Suguru simply wanted to render him unconscious so he could help Satoru. Which, he wasn’t even sure he’d succeeded in. He came here for answers and all he was leaving with were more questions. It was so incredibly frustrating it made him want to cry. Did he kill that guard? If so, had it even been human? Did it matter either way? Suguru wasn’t sure. 

He didn’t feel like he was in the position to make life and death decisions like that. He’d never felt compelled to kill. The only exception was very recently, when Satoru was in danger. He’d never seen the point to it before. “I did.” Suguru’s voice was foreign to his ears. He’d really killed another person. Unintentional or not, fresh blood now stained his hands.

The guard knelt before Suguru. He flinched when he moved his hands, but the guard only meant to take off the head of the costume. Just as Suguru had predicted, this guard too was mutilated beyond recognition. Suguru’s hands tightened on his jeans. “What did they do to you?” Suguru asked quietly.

The guard didn’t answer; he just held out the costume head between them and pointed to something inside. Suguru instantly worked it out. The suits did more than just conceal them. They were the guards' life support system. “What about it? It’s a life support system, right?”

The guard pushed it into Suguru’s hands. He must’ve damaged the circuit in the guard's helmet that tied him up in the surveillance room when he threw it on the ground. Sugar looked back at the person who knelt before him. “What do you want me to do?” The guard didn’t answer verbally. He curled his hand into a fist and smacked it against his other open palm. He wants me to break it. He… he wants me to kill him, too… Suguru shook his head and shoved the bear head back towards the guard. “Absolutely not.”

His lips moved, but he didn’t speak. Suguru moved in closer to him. “What?” The guard directed him by the shoulders to watch his lips. Please, he mouthed. Suguru didn’t want to, but maybe it was for the best. He couldn’t help the guard in any other way. It was a mercy kill, but it still rubbed him the wrong way. Still, he accepted the helmet again when the guard pushed it at him. 

Suguru stood on unsteady legs. He took a deep breath. He could do this. In one smooth motion, he threw it against the concrete wall. For good measure, he stomped on it with the heel of his shoe. The guard immediately gasped, like the air was being withdrawn from his lungs. Suguru didn’t understand how the life support system worked, but it seemed he’d broken it successfully. He took the guard’s hand in his and laid him flat on the ground. 

“It will be over soon,” were the only words of comfort Suguru could offer the man as he slowly curled in on himself and died.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

After crying so much his head pounded, Suguru clambered to his feet. He was a sitting duck here on the side of the building. Though the activity had seemed to die down sometime, while Suguru was losing himself. He looked around anxiously but saw no other person. He walked along the fence until he came across a small gate he hadn’t noticed before.

It was left wide open, which was suspicious, but Suguru was beyond rational thought. He had been that way for a while. He slipped through the gate and walked several blocks away from the fight club. He was trying to process all that had been revealed to him. Suguru really had no idea going in what he’d be up against. His father was right. 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to reach Sat0rou since his phone was broken. Suguru had to know that he was alright though. The thought of Satoru falling into Star’s sadistic hands made him sick. He called Riko to see if she had heard from him at all.

“Hey, Suguru,” Riko answered. She sounded a little breathless, but it barely registered to him.

“Hey, what are you up to?” There was rustling on the other side. Suguru assumed she just had friends over.

“Uh… I’m studying with a friend?” It posed as more of a question than a statement. Suguru remembered the boy she’d painted for her portrait class.

“Oh okay, I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to check in on Satoru.”

“He went out tonight…” More rustling was heard over the phone. Then a boys laugh followed by Riko’s shushing. “He’s studying with some people on campus. Midterms start Monday.”

Suguru didn’t know what to think. Either he lied to her, which was completely plausible. Or alternatively, the footage he’d been shown was fabricated. Suguru’s heart raced, he didn’t really know what he was expecting from this call. It cleared absolutely nothing up. “Right! I forgot midterms started next week. Well I’ll let you get back to studying. Stay safe!”

Riko giggled and then shushed someone again. “Yeah, you too!” She said distractedly and the call disconnected.

Suguru sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want to interfere with whatever Riko had going on, but he also had to know that Satoru was safe. He deliberated what his next move should be. He could go to campus and look for Satoru there, but as Shoko had said previously, he wouldn’t have access to most of the buildings. Plus, he had no idea where to even begin his search. Suguru didn’t want to assume that Satoru had lied to Riko about where he was going tonight.

The most likely scenario for all of this is that Satoru didn’t know the fight club was a trap set by criminal masterminds. Suguru would bet a lot of money that he doesn’t have any idea that he’s been made a pawn in a game. With the eviction hanging over his head like a guillotine, Suguru supposed the idea had been planted somehow. He’d only go there if some sort of financial incentive had been proposed. Satoru would go, not because he knew how to fight, but because, for some strange reason, he now had the strength of 10 men. He’d go to keep Riko safe; to keep her housed and fed. To unburden his aunt. Gojo Satoru would risk it all if it meant keeping his family safe.

Suguru knew that, and for a moment, he hated him for it. Who was supposed to keep Satoru safe, who was going to protect him from the evils of the world? Because that was what they were up against, evil incarnate. Whatever these people wanted from him, from Suguru, it was going to cost them everything if they didn’t work together. And even then, it still wouldn’t be enough. Suguru hated himself most at that moment. If he’d been there for him, if Satoru had just confided in him. He screamed in frustration. His hands tore through his hair. This was his fault. He should’ve never come back. They had to be targeting Satoru because of Suguru. 

Suguru was crying again. He still had no idea what to do. He had no chance of fixing this on his own. Satoru hated his guts; he wouldn’t even talk to him. Suguru deserved it. He couldn’t possibly drag Shoko into this, either. She was completely defenseless. Suguru already knew the police would be no help, too much bureaucratic bullshit tape to cut through. He knew this company; he had thought he’d known all its evils. He was a fool, and now Satoru was out there somewhere, alone, scared, and probably hurt.

Suguru ran his hands down his face. He sighed, defeated, and called a taxi.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Suguru sat beside Satoru’s front door. He’d been sitting there for two hours. Suguru had seen Riko’s friend leave. The boy seemed nice, though something about him still made Suguru’s hair stand on edge. He had waved to Suguru before disappearing into the stairwell. Riko had offered to let him come in, but he declined. He wanted to set eyes on Satoru first. Wanted to make sure he was okay, still intact, still him. Though Suguru knew now that Satoru was not himself, there was something more there now.

The door to the stairwell opened and Suguru’s heart stopped dead in his chest. He’d ditched the sock cap and the goggles. The jacket to his track suit was also missing. Satoru. His heart picked up its pace, making up for its momentary standstill. He’s here. He’s alive. Thank God, I could cry. He didn’t, Suguru didn’t think he had any tears left to shed at that point. But the feeling was there regardless, he felt the burn of it in his throat and behind his eyes.

Satoru appeared exhausted. He dragged his feet behind him, not even bothering to look up as he made his way to the door. Suguru wracked his brain for something to say. He’d sat here composing the perfect apology, the perfect explanation, but it was all lost to him know. Satoru stopped at the door, completely unaware of Suguru’s presence. His head thudded against this apartment’s entrance. Of all the eloquent sentences Suguru had thought up, all that came out in that moment was “Satoru.” His tone was dreamlike, like he couldn’t quite believe that his friend was standing in front of him. Suguru couldn’t.

Their eyes collided. The other boy looked dazed, like he couldn’t quite believe this was happening either. It emboldened Suguru, “Satoru? Are you okay?” His brain short circuited. The only thought was Satoru Satoru Satoru over and over again. He was so relieved to see him here safe. He wanted to stand and pull Satoru into a bone crushing hug and never let go. He wanted to push him against the wall and continue what they’d started the other night. Suguru wanted to-

Satoru kicked the front door. Suguru immediately stood up while Satoru dug through his pack. He seemed hell bent on ignoring him still, but Suguru was officially over this behavior. He moved into Satoru’s space, blocking him from the door. Suguru had never been the abrasive one, that had always been Satoru’s specialty, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Suguru was beyond desperate.

Satorou looked him square in the eyes and just sighed. He pushed his shoulders back, but his face crumpled, as if it were painful for him to make direct eye contact with Suguru. He tried not to cringe at the thought. Satoru looked to the side and gathered a breath. “Suguru, I really don’t have time for this-”

“Satoru, listen.” He reached out for the other boy’s hand, but he recoiled. Suguru dropped his back to his side lamely. He huffed out a breath, doing his best not to appear bothered by Satoru’s reaction. His next words came out wounded anyways, “Look, Toru, I think we just need to sit down and talk.”

Satoru shook his head back and forth and slipped his pack off his shoulders. He fished out his keys, still pointedly looking away from Suguru and said, “Don’t fucking call me that.” He seemed to cringe from his own words. 

Suguru was stunned by the venom in Satoru’s voice. They’d never fought like this before. Suguru was in uncharted territory. He didn’t want to push him further away, but something had to be done. This whole thing was absolutely ridiculous. Satoru shook his head and sighed. “Look, I have had a shit day. I can’t deal with whatever this is between us right now. I have other things to focus on.”

Suguru nodded dumbly. His heart was breaking in his chest. He knew what Satoru had gone through. Suguru flinched slightly when he caught sight of the necklace of bruises running around the column of Satoru’s neck. Suguru cleared his throat, groping the dark for the right thing to say.

Satoru looked in his eyes again. The other’s hand rose to grasp his dingy gray t-shirt. Satoru gasped for air as tears ran down his cheeks. Suguru’s hands were moving being he even knew what he wanted to do. One hand clasped Satoru’s bicep and squeezed. The other boy was having a panic attack, Suguru just wanted to give him something to hang on to, something that would anchor him in the moment. He stepped away from Suguru, and Suguru felt the well of phantom tears again. 

“How about we just go inside and have some tea? You can tell me about your day. I want to hear about it.” I want to be here for you, help you pick up the pieces, whatever you need, Satoru. I’ll fucking do it, just let. Me. In. His words broke, “Just don’t push me away… Please, Satoru…”

Satoru closed his eyes. They stood there for what felt like forever. Suguru hoped that Satoru was going to give in. Suguru wanted him to say yes. He wanted to make tea for him; he’d listen to whatever the other boy was willing to share. Suguru wouldn’t push too hard, and Satoru wouldn’t push him away. They’d hold each other close, tight enough to keep each other from shattering. It would be enough for tonight. Suguru just wanted to hold him and know Satoru was alright.

“No,” cleaved through Suguru’s silent hope. “I’m tired. I smell like a homeless person. I want to shower and then go to bed.”

“I thought you were supposed to be studying… You look like you’ve been dragged through the mud.” So much for not pushing. Suguru reached to tuck a stray hair behind the other boy’s ear. Satoru stopped him mid-motion, his grip hard enough to bruise. Suguru did not flinch away from him, though. His eyes roved over his friend. He was just shocked. All of this used to come so easily to them.

“You can’t-” Satoru’s words sounded all wrong. He was still hyperventilating. He struggled to gulp down air. “Suguru, you can’t do that!” It was a slap to the face. He couldn’t what? Comfort him? Reach out to him? 

Suguru shook his head. “What?” He echoed the thoughts from his head. “I -I mean, I didn’t mean to-” He cut himself off, because he did mean to, and he was tired of denying it. Satoru didn’t want this, though. Suguru wanted to move past this, to get past whatever this barrier was, but he mentally took a step back. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” He knew the moment the words left his mouth that they were the stupidest thing Suguru had ever uttered. 

Satoru was visibly pissed now, and Suguru was just confused. He didn’t know what the other boy wanted to hear, but it certainly wasn’t that. Satoru pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think maybe that’s the point, yeah?” Sugruu was being shoved aside then. “You mean nothing by it, so it’s just me left to deal with the seismic aftermath of how your actions make me feel!” Satoru burst into the apartment. He turned to slam the door shut but Suguru jumped in the way.

The impact pushed the air right out of his lungs. “Wait! Toru- I mean. Fuck. Satoru, that wasn’t what I meant.” Suguru tried to push his way through the gap, but Satoru put all his weight into keeping it closed. Satoru slammed against the door again, and it caught Suguru in the shoulder. He hissed, but then collected himself. “Satoru! Stop! Please, we need to talk about this!” Suguru didn’t care then about spider bites or evil scientists. He just wanted to fix them. To put his feelings out there once and for all, the rest of the world be damned.

“We just did. You didn’t mean anything by it, remember?” Satoru said flatly and shoved against the door again.

“What is going on?” Riko’s tired voice carried over them. Satoru turned to look at her, and it was enough of a distraction to allow Suguru to finally slip through. Satoru and he both stood in the genkan panting.

“Nothing, he was just leaving,” Satoru spat out.

He hated himself for it, but Suguru gave Riko a pleading look. Silently begging her to give him this chance. 

She already looked uncomfortable and unsure. “Satoru, I think…” Riko took a deep breath. “I think it’s time you two sat down and really talked.”

Satoru went pale, and his spine straightened. He looked like he’d just experienced the biggest betrayal of his life. Suguru stood there stupidly with his mouth hanging open. He looked down and noticed that Satoru was dripping blood onto the floor.

“Fine!” Satoru exploded. He wrenched open the door, stumbling past Suguru, who was rooted to the spot. “If you guys want to talk so bad, then talk!” He darted out the door. 

Suguru blinked, and then Riko was yelling at him. “Go after him, you idiot!”

Suguru’s feet were moving. He was running up behind Satoru. He reached out for the other’s shoulder. “Toru, wait! Come back inside. You’re exhausted and bleeding. Please stop!”

Satoru just shook him off and sprinted into the stairwell. By the time Suguru made it through the entryway, he couldn’t see Satoru on the stairs. He ran the whole way down to the lobby, but he didn’t see him. Suguru knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t find him, either.

Chapter Text

Sunday October 11th

Satoru’s head pounded. He cracked open a bleary eye, and at first, his surroundings were unfamiliar to him. The bed was not his own. The posters that plastered the wall were different from ones he’d hang. Panic rose in him like a tidal wave. He tried to kick the silk comforter off, but he wanted to sit up, but he found he couldn’t. Satoru tried to catch his breath. He wasn’t bound by anything; it was just his brain overreacting. It was just sleep paralysis. 

A forearm was thrown over his chest. He didn’t immediately recognize it, but then the events of the early morning slowly returned to him. He hadn’t wanted to return to the apartment; Riko’s betrayal was still too fresh. Satoru simply couldn’t stomach another encounter with Suguru, either. He had to get his head on straight before he could let that happen.

Then he remembered. He’d still been walking the streets after running out of the internet cafe. The thought of the article caused a cold chill to run up his spine. During his aimless walking, Satoru had run into Johnny Storm. A friend he’d made his second year of college. They had a class together at the time. Johnny needed tutoring, Satoru stepped in to help. 

It was kinda disastrous at the time. Satoru was a genius, but explaining things to others didn’t come easily to him. He’d much rather show them or do it for them. So Satoru ended up doing double the homework, but Johnny always insisted on hanging out while Satoru worked. Johnny didn’t want him to think he was taking advantage of him. Satoru didn’t mind the extra company. Johnny was funny and quick-witted. He was an exceptional talent in any sport.

Satoru would go watch his games. He was a star on any court. He’d even humored Satoru by shooting hoops with him, though he never went easy. Over the past few years, Satoru had only managed to score more points than him, like two times. Johnny even joined photography club with him so they could hang out more. He was sweet, and Satoru couldn’t deny that he was hot, too. Like, hot-hot. Celestial level hotness. Johnny would put a supernova to shame.

The arm slung across his chest belonged to Johnny. He was in Johnny Storm’s room. Satoru was in his bed. They hadn’t done anything. Johnny was buzzed when Satoru and he crossed paths, and Satoru had one foot in the grave. Not that they would’ve done anything. One, he didn’t think Johnny thought of him like that. Satoru was just his nerdy friend who’d write papers for him sometimes and do his math homework. Plus, there was Suguru. He didn’t know what was going on there, but he didn’t want to jeopardize that by doing anything stupid. Though the events of last night were both stupid and jeopardizing.

Johnny was just being a good friend. He saw that Satoru was out of sorts and offered him a place to crash. Which evidently meant his bed, and not the couch… or the floor. Satoru was trying to remember exactly what had led to that decision. A memory sprouted in his mind. When he thought of Johnny, his brain filled with too many details that just didn’t belong to the man lying beside him. Dark eyes framed by onyx lashes, a voice that whispered “You’re safe.” That said his name as if it were something fragile and needed great care to handle. Satoru’s mouth dried out. Johnny didn’t say his name like that. He knew who the voice belonged to, but it couldn’t be.

Satoru had been half delirious. He was pulling someone down on top of him, kissing them. He remembered the warmth of Johnny’s hands on his jaw, the brush of his thumb under Satoru’s chin. But they weren’t Johnny’s. The hands were larger, more familiar, yet still so foreign. He felt phantom lips against his skin -too soft to belong to Johnny, too sure to be anyone else. The scent of cigarette smoke and iron, half-buried under the scent of his own shampoo.

Right as he thought he remembered it fully, the memory popped like a bubble. It folded in on itself until he wasn’t sure who or what he was remembering. Satoru didn’t believe it was from last night. He couldn’t actually imagine pulling Johnny down for a kiss. He’d combust, probably. Maybe this was his punishment then, to mistake every kindness for something he’d already lost.

Satoru took a deep breath. He could move now, the paralysis had worn off, but there was still the fact that Johnny’s arm was slung over his chest. He pressed his palms into his eyes until colors burst across his vision. Carefully, he turned his head to look at the other guy. Johnny was starfished on his stomach, head turned away from him. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, which was only slightly distracting. The memory wasn’t of Johnny. Satoru would remember; he wasn’t that out of it last night. He was just tired and probably had just crawled into bed without a second thought. Right? He had to be right.

Gingerly, and as slowly as Satoru could, he grabbed hold of Johnny’s wrist and lifted it off his chest. Then, as carefully as possible, Satoru slipped off the side of the bed. Johnny stirred, but thankfully, remained asleep. Satoru was still fully clothed. Another good indicator, he supposed. Then it hit him like a train. “Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. “Fuck,” he said a little louder this time. He cast his gaze around the room. He found his backpack and dug through it. The envelope with the money was there along with the phone. 

He took out a pen and a sticky note, too. He quickly scrawled a thank-you note and stuck it to Johnny’s nightstand. With one last glance over his shoulder, Satoru walked out of the room. He’d almost got away, until he literally ran into the other Storm sibling. “Shit, sorry,” Satoru muttered and then cleared his throat. Sue was staring at him with raised eyebrows. 

“Gojo?” She asked and took a step back out of his space.

“The one and only,” Satoru said with a hollow grin, attempting humor.

She looked at her brother’s door. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh,” Satoru scratched the back of his neck. He knew he was blushing. What was she thinking? What conclusions were being drawn here? She seemed to sense he didn’t have a good answer.

“Do you want breakfast? Is Johnny still sleeping? I was just coming to check in on him. I know he was out late with friends last night.” She gave him another pointed look. “I didn’t realize you were out, though.”

“I ran into Johnny late last night and he offered to bring me back here to crash… Um, yes, he’s still sleeping, and no, thank you. I actually need to get going. I gotta get back and check on my cousin.”

Sue blinked. “Oh, okay. Tell Geto I said hi.” She then turned back down the hallway.

Satoru followed, hot on her heels, “Excuse me?”

She turned, “When you see him next, would you tell him I said hi?” She looked a little confused. Satoru was, too. His heart raced in his chest, and he struggled to regulate his breathing again. “Hey, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” The words punched right out of him. He knew he was making a stupid face and it was all Suguru’s fault. “I just… sorry. You know Suguru?”

“Oh yeah, we met a few days ago. He had a meeting with my boss. He’s sweet, if it weren’t for my going back to the States soon, I would have liked to get to know him better.” 

That was a stab through the heart. Did she like him? Did Suguru like her back? Objectively, Satoru knew Sue was hot. Both her and her brother hit the facecard lottery. Of course Suguru would find her attractive and she was probably super nice and other stuff. But Satoru was attractive and nice and other stuff too. So what did Sue Storm have that he didn’t?

“Uh, Gojo, you alright?” His focus snapped back to her face. She had a bemused smile.

“Yeah, I’m okay… I just really need to go. I’ll tell Suguru you said hi, though.” Satoru said with a forced smile. He was certainly not alright.

“Okay, I’ll walk you to the door.” Sue gave him a genuine smile.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Sue closed the door behind Gojo and shook her head. That was not who she was expecting to walk out of her brother’s room, and Sue had seen plenty of people walk out in the morning in varying states of undress. Sometimes girls would slink out with nothing but a shy smile playing on their lips as they walked to the sink for a glass of water. Sue never paid them much mind. She didn’t care what Johnny got up to as long as he was being safe.

This was different though. She’d never seen a boy leave his room, let alone someone like Gojo Satoru. He was at least fully dressed, though a little disheveled. Sue suspected it wasn’t a side effect of Johnny’s ministrations, though. She hoped it wasn’t. That would definitely suck, considering she’d just encouraged Geto to pursue him… still the whole thing left her perplexed. 

She shook her head again and padded back down the hall to Johnny’s room. Sue held a hesitant hand in front of the door. She didn’t know if Johnny would consider this meddlesome, asking him about it. If this were two years ago, Sue wouldn’t have thought twice about asking. But a wall had been built between them in these recent years and it left Sue second-guessing everything.

They used to be conjoined at the hip for so long, she wasn’t sure when the separation happened, but the last few years had been difficult. They’d both made it hard on each other, but Sue missed the old days. Missed when they could gossip together, joke together, be in each other’s presence without an explosive argument happening. She sighed and returned to the kitchen to make breakfast.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Satoru unlocked the front door to his apartment. The smell of burnt coffee was the first thing he noticed. Riko was sitting at the counter nursing a half-empty cup. Her eyes were puffy and red when they met his gaze, but her expression was sharp. Guilt punched through him at the sight. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his bag unceremoniously. Hot tears pricked at the back of his eyes, his throat burned with them. “Riko,” his voice broke on her name. “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up.”

She didn’t look sad or frail then. Just exhausted and beyond her years with grief. Slowly, she stood from her stool, exhaustion tightening every movement. “You promised.” She walked over to him to jab a finger at his sternum. “You promised you would never make me worry like that again. And then you vanish for an entire night. What the actual fuck, Satoru?”

Satoru dropped his gaze to the floor. “I know. I know that I totally fucked up.”

“Do you? Because it really seems like you have no idea.” Riko wrapped her arms around herself. “You disappeared, again. I didn’t know where you went. I had no way to contact you.” She turned away from him, but he could tell she was crying from the way her shoulders trembled.

Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, but she flinched away from his touch. “Riko, let’s sit down and talk. Just hear me out. I am going to tell you everything.” Though it made him nauseous, he knew he had to. It was the only way to fix things. He only hoped it wouldn’t put her in more danger.

She barked out a hollow, disbelieving laugh. “Talking is not going to fix this Satoru. How can I trust you after last night?” This time when he reached out for her, he didn’t let go. He spun her around to face him and kept her rooted in place. She scowled at him, “Let me go, I don’t want to talk right now.”

“Riko, this is serious. You need to listen.”

Something in his tone made her falter. She just blinked at him. Slowly, worry bloomed over her features, anger drained away to make room for unease. “Shit,” she breathed, “You’re actually serious.”

Satoru’s lips were set in a thin line as he nodded. “Yeah, dead serious.”

Riko deliberated for a moment. “Okay. Go washup, you stink like garbage and you will not sit on our furniture smelling like that. I’ll make you something quick to eat. Then we’ll talk.”

He nodded his agreement. “Just one thing.”

“What?” She asked.

Satoru swallowed hard. “How’s Suguru?”

Riko cringed slightly. “He’s really torn up about the way you froze him out.”

He deflated. “Yeah, I expected that much. I’m going to make it right with him, too. I’ll need your help.”

“I’m always happy to help, Satoru,” She gave him an award winning smile.

“I know you are.” He said and turned to go take his shower.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

By the time Satoru finished his shower, his hair dripping droplets down his face and back, the apartment looked like it had scrubbed itself back in order. His shoes had been placed in their rightful spot, his backpack had been cleared from the entryway, and a plate of fried rice sat steaming on the coffee table. Riko sat on the couch with her knees brought up to her chest. Her baggy shirt was pulled over her knees, pooling around her feet. It was then that Satoru realized that he did not recognize it. His eyebrows rose, but he pushed the question to the wayside. Better to ask some other time.

Riko patted the cushion beside her. “Alright, start talking.”

Satoru took a deep breath and counted to eight. “It started with a bite.”

He told her everything. The trip, the bite, he walked her through all of the symptoms that followed. The odd bursts of strength that resulted in a broken alarm clock, dented door handle, and cracked bathroom mirror. Satoru told her about Tuesday night, and how he’d fallen from trying to scale the side of the building. He explained the webs that he couldn’t quite reproduce. He delved into the fight club, the bruises, the lights, his invisibility.

Satoru reached forward and plucked one of the faux fruits from a decorative bowl sitting on the table. He pressed it to his palm and lifted it without effort. Riko didn’t even blink, she just remained eerily silent.

Then came the rest of his tall-tale. He pulled his backpack to him from where it sat beside the couch. He withdrew the envelope of money and the new phone. Satoru told Riko about the car ride, the mysterious woman. The words were falling out of him by this point. Like a tap left on, he drowned in his words, the truth of them all. He explained Ryomen Tech, the files they had on their family. Fear clawed up his throat and his voice cracked under the weight of it all. 

He told her they were both in danger, and it was all his fault. By this point he could no longer fend off the tears. Satoru backtracked a little to talk about Suguru. How amongst all of the confusion, he was the easiest person to take his frustrations out on. He knew it was a dick move, yet he still did it anyway. Satoru told her he was sorry she got caught in the middle of it.

At the end of it all, he held out the envelope. “So, we might beat the eviction, but I have a feeling I just landed us in something much, much worse.”

Riko stared at him. “So… I’m sorry I’m still caught on the fact that you shot webs out of your fingers.”

Satoru groaned. “From my wrists, thank you.”

A disbelieving laugh bubbled past her lips. It was caught somewhere between panic and hysteria. “Satoru, what the fuck.” 

He almost smiled. “Yeah, that was my reaction, too.”

Riko shook her head. “What are we even supposed to do?”

“Nothing. We’re doing nothing.” Satoru put a tentative hand on her shoulder. “It’s my fault, my mess to clean. I don’t want you anywhere near it.”

Her head snapped up. “You don’t want me near it? Satoru, they have my file. I think I’m already in it!”

He shook his head back and forth. “No. I’m going to clear it up. I’ll figure it out.”

“It’s that kind of attitude that got us into this mess!” She shouted, standing from the couch.

Satoru stood too and paced. “Out of the question. What could you even do?”

“I could stop you from being an idiot for once!” She fired back.

Satoru ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know yet. I don’t even know what they want from me,” he said, frustrated.

“Then we find out. Together.”

His feet froze on the carpet, he turned to her, eyes wide and wild, “No. You don’t understand. They’re after me. I think they have been for a while.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that bob-chick told me that this was all by design!” He took Riko by the shoulders and shook her. “Listen. These are dangerous people. I think that this-” he gestured to himself “-is what actually killed my parents.”

Riko froze. They never talked about his parents. Not ever. “Satoru, no. They died in a plane crash. That had nothing to do with-”

“No,” he cut her off. “It does. It connects to their research trip. I think they found something they weren’t supposed to. Or maybe they saw something… I don’t know.” He took a deep breath, “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

“How are you so certain?” Riko demands.

“Because I came across the last research article they were working on before their plane went down. It was published by Ryomen Tech. My parents didn’t work for them.”

Riko worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “They were free lancers, maybe Ryomen Tech commissioned the article?”

Satoru ground his teeth. “No! They hated that company. My mother… It was like she was scared of them. Scared they’d take something from her.” He shook his head, running crazed hands through his drying hair.” They wouldn’t work for them.”

Riko took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m still not seeing the direct link.” 

“My mother was an entomologist. Specifically an arachnologist. She was crazy about spider research.”

“Shit… I didn’t know that. I thought she was a zoologist?” Riko said as her eyebrows drew together.

Satoru shook his head, “And my dad was a molecular biologist. I don’t know what he was working on at the time. But it was weird for them both to go on a research trip together. One always stayed behind with me. They went on rotation.”

She frowned. “Are you saying that your mother and father created a spider that can pass its DNA to humans?” Riko looked bewildered.

“I shot webs out of my wrist! I stick to walls! Riko, this isn’t a crazy jump by any means.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t seen any webs, and a piece of decorative fruit sticking to your palm is a far cry from sticking to walls.”

He turned invisible then, reappearing a moment later. He could do it on command now it seemed.

“Okay,” she said weakly. “That’s harder to argue. But maybe I just blinked for a really long moment and my eyesight was blurry.”

Satoru smacked himself in the face. “You can’t be serious.”

“I don’t know, this is fucking weird, right?”

Satoru groaned. “Watch.” He jumped, pressing the flat of his palm against the ceiling. His feet lifted off the floor and he hung there, leveling her with a look. “See? Spider powers.”

”Crawl around.” Her arms were crossed over her chest.

”Dude, I’m literally sticking to the ceiling.”

”Yeah, well, crawl around a little.”

Satoru huffed, but did as requested. Slowly his other hand reached the ceiling and he managed to pull his feet up with him. He reluctantly crawled a short distance above her.

Riko stared. “You’re fucking Spider-Man…” Riko breathed out.

He grinned, unable to help himself. Laughter sliced through the tension. Hers first -wild and disbelieving. Then his, the sound of it filled the room. He laughed so hard he fell from the ceiling. Satoru landed hard and flat on his back. Riko was still laughing, hard enough that she fell to her knees. Though, perhaps she was just trying to make sure he was okay. She crawled over to him and cupped his face with her hands. “You’re such a dork.”

He stuck his tongue out at her and ruffled her hair. “I’m your Spider-Dork.”

Riko’s face softened then, “Yeah, you are.” She hugged him tight, “We need to do this together.”

Satoru sighed and leaned into her shoulder. “Riko, I just don’t want you getting hurt… I… I can’t lose you to this.”

She huffed an annoyed breath and hugged him tighter. “I can’t lose you either. We’re all we’ve got, idiot.”

Satoru nudged back, gently, breaking the tender moment. “We’ll talk about it later. I’m tired.” He moved to stand and winced a little. “And sore.”

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Satoru wanted to take a nap. He was still bone weary after such a wild night. Especially the thing with Johnny. The memory was still really fuzzy. Every time he focused too hard on it, the memory evaporated like smoke. He thought he’d remembered when standing in Johnny’s room… He wasn’t so sure now. He could’ve sworn it happened here, in his own room, on his sheets. Johnny had never been here in his room though. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. 

Johnny Storm had been in his room once, but Satoru had definitely not pulled him down to kiss him desperately and pleaded with him not to leave. It had been after a round of throwing hoops when the ball had ricocheted off the backboard and hit Satoru square in the nose. Johnny had helped him home and helped him tend to the wound. Satoru probably had wanted to kiss him at the time, but not like, with passion or anything.

The only person he’s ever wanted to kiss like that was Suguru, but they’d only shared quick shy kisses in the past. Back when they were still figuring out what it even meant to be gay. Or maybe just what it meant to like someone. He’d really wanted to kiss Suguru. Satoru remembered the proposition like it was yesterday. They were freshly 15, Suguru’s birthday had only been a few weeks prior. They were laying on the floor atop sprawled out tatami mats, legs entwined. 

Satoru remembered the thunderous beating of his heart when he’d asked “Do you want to kiss me?”

Suguru’s nose had scrunched up. “Why would I want to kiss you?”

He’d only felt slightly wounded at the time, but he soldiered on. “So we can both know what it’s like. I’ve already kissed a girl, and I didn’t like it… So I thought I’d kiss a boy. Who better than my best friend?”

Suguru still looked skeptical. “Maybe you just haven’t kissed the right girl yet.”

Satoru had resorted to whining, “Oh, come on, Ru! Just one small kiss.”

His friend took a deep breath, “Fi-”

Satoru threw himself at him. Planted a fat wet kiss right on Suguru’s lips and then laughed so hard his stomach ached when Suguru shrieked and pushed him away.

Almost a year later, on Satoru’s birthday, Suguru and him shared a kiss under the mistletoe that his aunt had strung up in the apartment. It had been the first time Satoru had seen mistletoe, but he’d been excited by the prospect of catching Suguru off guard with it. Unexpectedly, Suguru was the one to kiss him. Citing that it was only fair since Satoru had kissed him first.

Thus began the dance Satoru and Suguru would perform around one another. It was confusing for his tiny teen brain to separate the platonic feelings he had for Suguru from the other… less platonic feelings he had for him. It seemed even as an adult he couldn’t manage it. 

His brain whirred as he laid in bed. He couldn’t shut it off and soon he was thinking about Ryomen Tech again. If only he knew for sure what his parents were doing. He’d built a wall between him and the memories of his parents. His life before their demise was like a smudge of ink. His mind went back to Suguru and his own parents. What if his mother’s illness was orchestrated? What if they have sinister plans for Suguru, too? 

Satoru didn’t know where to begin voicing these concerns. There was too much to work through. He did not want to bring Suguru into any of this, just like Riko, he had to keep him safe and out of Ryomen’s LOS. Whatever he was going to do, he needed to figure it out soon. He needed to take a blowtorch to the webs that had ensnared him and his family. Satoru just didn’t know how. First though, he supposed it was time to talk to his best friend.

He sighed and stood from bed. He stretched his arms over his head. His back was still a little sore from hitting the floor, but regardless, he was feeling a little better. As he rummaged through his closet for the perfect apology outfit his new phone pinged from his nightstand. He padded over to it cautiously. The clinically insane portion of his brain thought it might be Suguru. That wouldn’t be possible though…

STAR: Good afternoon, Ghost. Ready for round two? 

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Sunday Morning 9am

Suguru woke up in a crumpled mess. He was still wearing the clothes from the night before, covered in dust and blood now. He’d barely made it to the couch before collapsing when he returned to his apartment last night. Clumsily, he pulls himself into a sitting position on the floor, his back pressed against the couch. Suguru ran a hand through his tangled hair, wincing where it pulled on his scalp. 

His hands had blood under the nails and his knuckles were swollen. The blood belonged to him… or at least he thought it did. He vaguely remembers punching the brick wall outside Satoru’s apartment after it became apparent that he would not catch up with him. 

After mustering up enough effort, he pulled himself up off the floor and walked toward his bathroom. The image reflected back to him from the bathroom mirror made him wince. The bags under his eyes had multiplied and his complexion appeared paler than it ought to. He must’ve switched on the tap automatically because the water was running. Mindlessly, he watched as the water was stained red and it ran down the drain.

What was he supposed to do? Satoru was not going to listen to him. Which fine, in all honesty, he had good reason not to. For all Suguru knew, he was the reason this underground division of Roymen Tech was targeting Satoru. It made sense to him. He could see the webs gracefully connecting them together. Could see the spider just outside his peripheral, ready to pounce on them.

He needed more information. Primarily, he wanted to know what they wanted. Suguru was certain he’d pissed Star off, and he wasn’t looking forward to what their wrath would bring. Feeling suddenly ill, Suguru dropped to his knees in front of his toilet. What if they kill him because I killed those guards? Why was he even there in the first place? What does Satoru have to do with any of this?

It was Suguru who knew the insider secrets of the tech company. Particularly their military division, but he didn’t know anything that wasn’t already being theorized. Why was Star so interested in him that they would decide to bring Satoru in as collateral? Is that what he is? Their insurance that I’ll fall in line? Suguru shook his head. The time line just didn’t add up. The gaps in information were too large to draw a conclusion from. The only thing he gained from meeting with Star the previous evening was becoming a murderer. 

It didn’t matter to him that the first time was an accident and the second time was a mercy kill. Before leaving the States he’d been pushed to that point, but he walked away from it. Suguru hadn’t thought he’d be able to live with himself, and now he’s learning that he was right. Images of the guards flashed in his mind. He remembered how they’d writhed as they slowly suffocated. Suguru’s grip tightened on the toilet seat as he emptied his stomach. All of it was just acid, he hadn’t eaten since early yesterday when he went to the cafe with Shoko.

An alarm went off on his phone. He stood too quickly, falling back against the wall. It’s then that he remembered he’s supposed to be meeting Mr. Li today at FEAST. “Shit,” he panted out as he tried to stand again. This time with more success, he rushed out to the living room to silence the alarm. The clock on his phone reads 9:15. He still had plenty of time to get ready then. The meeting wasn’t until noon. 

He scrolled through his notifications. Shoko asked if he’d been in touch with Satoru yet. Suguru groaned, she didn't know anything about last night. Suguru wanted to keep it that way. He didn’t need both of his best friends caught up in this utter shit-storm. Opting to not respond, Suguru threw his phone on the couch and returned to the bathroom to clean up.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

When Suguru arrived at FEAST he was met by none other than Sue Storm. She smiled at him and waved him toward her. He gave her a tight smile and obliged. As he got closer Sue let out a low whistle, “You’re lookin a little worse for wear, there.”

“Just had a bit of a rough night.” He tried to adjust his smile to look more genuine, but it fell flat and he let out a sigh. “A really rough night, but I’m okay.”

Sue reached out and squeezed his arm. “Were you with Gojo last night?” She seemed a bit nervous suddenly, but Suguru didn’t read too much into it.

“Uh… No, I still haven’t had a chance to talk with him yet. He’s still pretty pissed at me.” The lie slid off his tongue like oil off water. 

She nodded and averted her gaze back to the task she’d been working on. “I see… Well, I’m sure he’ll come around eventually!”

“I hope so,” Suguru sighed again and rubbed his eyes.

“Geto, good to see you.” Mr. Li’s warm voice called from behind him. It’s only when Suguru turned that he realized he might be a little overdressed. Li wore old jeans and a volunteer t-shirt that had faded with age. While he was dressed in dress slacks and a white cotton polo. 

“Hey, Mr. Li, how are you today?”

“I’m doing well. Even better now that you’re here.” Li stepped forward and clapped his shoulder. Suguru gave him a smile he hoped hid his exhaustion. “How are you? You’re looking a little tired.”

Suguru internally winced, “Just had a long night. Excited to help out today, can’t wait to get started.”

Li’s eyebrows rose, “Really? Well, let’s get to it then.” Suguru followed after him. They weren’t going in the direction of his office, instead they weaved their way further into FEAST. Li smiled and waved at people as he passed by, stopping a couple times to shake hands. Suguru envied how easy it was for him to do so, but he kept a polite smile plastered on his face as they continued walking. 

Li started rattling off different initiatives they’re working to kickstart this week. A community shelter a few blocks down wanted help with their rooftop garden. Li had been working hard to get the ball rolling on it. Suguru chimed in with a few programs he’d read about, how many were being blocked by the mayor. Li frowned, “It’s a shame, certainly, but it just means that we have to push back harder.”

“Does FEAST partner with any of the bigger institutes? Like, not just for funding. I mean, do you have an in-house scientific team… Like, who’s coming up with the big ideas and how are you getting them from point A to point Z?” Suguru rambled out the question. His heart raced a bit. He wasn’t entirely sure if Li would have the answer he wanted.

“Oh, certainly. We partner with a lot of different institutes. We get our ideas from the community and up and coming brilliant young minds, like you and Susan.”

Suguru nodded along as they made it to a backroom. When they stepped through the threshold, it looked like a run-of-the-mill breakroom. “Do you host town hall meetings then?” Suguru asked absentmindedly. He didn’t want to come right out and ask about Ryomen Tech. He knew they worked in green energy, but he didn’t know if they had direct ties to FEAST.

“We hold meetings every two months. It’s good to hear from real people, not just scientists who are typically stuck inside stuffy labs all day.” Li laughed. “But the stuffy scientists are important too, they’re who make it all possible.” He paused for a moment and looked Suguru over. “I am not a scientist, but I know many, and together we create these new innovations. My strong suite has always been talking with people and bringing them together. I enjoy it. We all have our part to play.”

And who orchestrates our roles in this? Suguru bitterly questioned. Outwardly though he asked, “What corporate backing does FEAST have?”

Li raised an eyebrow, “Oh, we partner with a few of the bigger tech companies here. Akari Dynamics and Ryomen Tech are our biggest donors.”

“I didn’t realize Ryomen Tech was interested in the public sector like that.” Suguru said easily.

“Oh, absolutely, they’ve been branching out recently. All sorts of different sectors including energy, biotech, defense- anything you can think of, they’ve probably got a hand in it somewhere.”

“You don’t think that it’s a bit too much? Aren’t there systems in place to protect against that kind of over reach?” He prodded carefully, keeping his tone airy.

Li shrugged, “It brings in a lot of money, makes for a strong economy. Plus, everyone who works there has been vetted 10 times over. You know that, having worked there yourself, though.”

Suguru nodded. “Yeah, though I haven’t been able to reach out to anyone here. All my contacts are back in the States, I was really hoping to see what they’re fostering in the clean energy sector.”

“Well,” Li began and leaned into Suguru’s space. His voice dropped to a conspiratory whisper. “If you’re truly serious about your research, I could pull a few strings and get you a tour of their facility.”

Bingo. Suguru’s eyes went wide, “I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble. You don’t have to do all that.” Suguru waved him away politely.

“It’s no trouble, some of the scientists there are personal friends.” Li smiled, and Suguru could feel how genuine the other man was being.

He returned Li’s smile. “Thank you, Mr. Li. I’d really appreciate that. A first hand look would be invaluable.”

Li’s smile faltered, but only for a moment. Suguru heard a soft rhythmic pulsing on the table beside them. Li was tapping. “You’ll find they’re… quite interested in gifted minds like yours, Geto san.”

Suguru’s shoulder tensed slightly. He hoped Li didn’t notice. “I’m sure.”

Li led him back up to his office. There he gave Suguru the business card of his friend, Dr. Kaido, who would contact him about the tour. He bowed in thanks and quickly made his exit out of FEAST taking care to dodge Sue. Suguru in that moment felt both hopeful and uneasy. He was certain he was a step closer to figuring out the truth, though.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

It was raining, and it was really putting a damper on Satoru’s already foul mood. He was finally ready to talk to Suguru, and instead of meeting him somewhere nice and cozy where they could share a hot beverage or a pastry, (they would never actually share a drink, Satoru’s sweet tooth is too much for Suguru to handle) he was standing outside an abandoned apartment building waiting for Star.

He’d honestly thought the stern looking woman would have a far more serious name, but a name was the least of his concerns. He checked the time on his phone, it was nearing 9 pm. She should be here any minute. His gaze remained trained on the alleyway across from him. There was a cute little street cat across the way. He wished he could snap a photo and send it to Suguru, but that would be a weird way to break the silence between them. 

Though, it could work in his favor. They’d certainly have never done anything traditionally. Where they were now felt like a tipping point, though. Satoru felt that if he wanted to set things right, he’d really have to lock in. Actually sit down and talk about his feelings and shit like that. The prospect of it only scared him a little. Which was better than being scared shitless, he supposed.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. “Good, you’re on time.” A voice called out behind him a few seconds later. The alley cat turned tail and ran. He’d never been so full of envy. 

He turned and leveled Star with a frosty glare. “Cutting it close, aren’t you?”

Her lips curled into a smirk, “I’ve been here the whole time.”

“Bullshit, I just sensed you walk up.” Satoru spat.

“Only because I wanted you to.” She turned to walk into the building. Satoru took a deep breath to try to quell his racing heart. It was no use. He shook his head and followed her in. 

The inside was not what Satoru was expecting. The outside had appeared completely abandoned. He detected no lights, no signs of life. His breath caught in his throat. Inside was bright with fluorescent lights. The environment was sterile; it gave him creepy hospital vibes. “What is this place?”

“You don’t need to know that.”

Her monotone reply grated on his nerves. This was absolute bullshit. He wanted no part in it. “Why am I here?”

“You’ll find out soon.”

Satoru rolled his eyes. He just needed to keep his head down. Do what they ask and then he could go home. By following Star’s lead, he could keep Riko safe. That reassurance was enough to keep his mouth shut.

Satoru’s head spun from trying to figure out the layout of the building. It appeared much bigger inside, than it did on the outside. Also, the layout resembled nothing of an actual apartment building. He felt slightly insane. When they reached the end of the corridor, a giant elevator waited for them. Star clicked a button on the wall. A sudden fear clawed its way up his throat. What if I don’t leave this building? What if I never see Riko or Auntie again, Shoko and Suguru?

“I can hear you panicking. Stop it.” The elevator door opened and Star strode forward. She regarded him with raised eyebrows.

Satoru didn’t want to know how she knew. He probably had a sign painted on his forehead, which must look akin to a deer in headlights. He reminded himself that he was stronger now, if it came to it, he’d fight his way out. He’d faced down the Butcher after all, and lived to tell the tale. Steeling himself for the worst, Satoru stepped onto the elevator. The doors quickly closed after him and they began their descent… or ascent, he wasn’t sure. It didn’t feel like they were moving at all.

They must have, though. When the doors opened again, they were in an entirely new area. He tried not to feel in awe of it, but his curiosity won out. He gaped at the cavernous space yawning open in front of them. Star strode out ahead of him, and he clumsily followed behind. Their pathway was lit by more fluorescent bright lights. They stung his eyes. He slung his backpack to the front of his body and scavenged through it to find his sunglasses. Even with them on, the lights were too bright.

They traveled through a packed earth tunnel, but Satoru wasn’t prepared for what he saw at the end of it. It was an operating chair. Surrounding it stood three people, all wearing medical grade masks and face shields. They were all wearing scrubs. His eyes scanned the mostly dark room, save for the lamp above the chair. Bile rose in his throat. There was only one exit, back through the way they came. Did the elevator have a finger scan? If I ran now, would I even make it?

“No, you wouldn’t.” Star said from in front of him. She had a bored expression on her face. Like… Like this was all somehow normal. Just some run-of-the-mill Sunday activity for her. Like she was used to luring people here to be tortured. She probably was. 

“I wouldn’t what?” Satoru asked around the lump forming in his throat. 

“You wouldn’t get away. Now make this easy for all of us and take a seat.” She gestured to the chair.

“Why? What are you going to do to me?” Satoru’s feet remained planted as he asked.

One of the creepy doctors stepped forward. “Hello Gojo san, it’s an honor to meet you, you may refer to me as Dr. Kaido.”

“What the fuck are you going to do to me?” Satoru demanded.

Dr. Kaido stepped forward, “We just want to run some diagnostics. Then you can be briefed on your mission.”

Satoru shook his head. “Please don’t do this. I have a younger cousin, she depends on me.”

“That’s why you’ll get in the chair.” Star said, she stood off to the side now, the same bored expression still covered her face. 

Satoru was still shaking his head. Laughter bubbled up from him. This was insane. They were going to kill him, and he was just supposed to roll over like a dog. “It’s simple, really. If you don’t get in the chair. All I have to do is press a button that will make everything you’ve done so far to protect Riko meaningless. And after that, you’ll still have to sit.”

Satoru’s legs moved in different directions. Half his brain wanted to go back, while the other propelled forward. He tripped over his feet. The other two figures moved towards him and seized him by the shoulders. He didn’t put up a fight as they dragged him to the chair and strapped him down. Then he felt a pinch on his neck and the world fell away.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Suguru made it back to his place around 3 pm. He looked at his phone, and Satoru still hadn’t reached out to him. He thought about calling their apartment, but ultimately decided against it. He shot Shoko a quick text, asked if she would like to meet up for dinner sometime next week. She asked him about Satoru. He gave no reply.

He sighed and kicked off his shoes near the door. Suguru walked over to the couch and shrugged off his coat. Business card in hand, he collapsed onto his couch. This small piece of cardstalk was his ticket in. Suguru had to be ready for anything, especially because he had no idea what he was looking for. Proof, any proof that pointed towards corruption. He needed answers for Satoru and himself. Why was the largest tech company so concerned with the fate of two boys? 

He gave himself just a moment to truly feel the gravity of the situation. Li’s words echoed through his mind: everyone has their part. If Suguru was going to have any part, it was going to be one of his own designs. He didn’t want someone else pulling his strings, it was time they were severed. Flashes of the fight club came back to him. A heavy blanket of dread covered him as he recalled seeing Satoru’s pale face on the security cameras. That was all he needed for his resolve to harden.

Standing from the couch, Suguru ran to his room. He dug through some boxes stacked haphazardly in his closet. There was a prototype he’d taken with him when he left the States. It wasn’t a device he’d personally worked on, but he had a friend that had gifted it to him as a going away present. Well, she was more of an acquaintance. Also, he was almost certain it was illegal to gift someone leaving a top secret military weapons program a prototype of experimental technology, but that didn’t really matter now. It didn’t matter because to get what he wanted from these kinds of people, he’d probably have to commit acts worse than this. Suguru would have to play their games by their rules, and they didn’t play by the law.

It was at the bottom of the fourth box he searched through. This would come in handy. He walked to his bathroom so he could watch what he was doing in the mirror. The device had an elastic band that went around his head, and probes he had to stick to different parts of his face. His first attempt at applying it was abysmal. He groaned in agitation. He set the device aside and looked in his vanity drawers for bobby pins and hair ties.

This endeavor would be much easier if his hair was out of his face. He wasted 30 minutes braiding back the long onyx locks, sticking bobby pins in to tame the flyaways and finally tying off the end with a tie. Then he tried the application again. Trying and failing to remember where the neural receptors were meant to stick. 

When he’d finally found a place for everything, and had everything in its place he smiled at himself in the mirror. He looked so stupid, but he really hoped it would work. Suguru closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind of everything except for one thing. He needed to focus on just one face. His face grew itchy and his skin tingled a little, but when Suguru opened his eyes, the face that met him in the mirror was not his own. 

A surprised laugh pushed past his lips… or well, it pushed past Shoko’s lips. He leaned in closer to see the details better. It got her mole right, her tired eyes, even the small patch of freckles that ran along the bridge of her nose. He tried imitating her signature lazy smile, but found himself laughing too hard to manage. He took a step back to gaze at the rest of him. The lower half of the replication wasn’t as newsworthy as the face. He remained the same height, though his frame was slightly altered.

He figured it would work better when replicating someone of similar proportions. There was bound to be some scientist working there that was close enough to him for Suguru to get by. He dismantles the device and runs to get his laptop. He rigs up a VPN with a clean connection and gets to work.

First on the agenda: Find a scientist and steal their identity. Suguru scrolled on Ryomen Tech’s website for hours. Breaking through surface level security walls, nothing that would draw too much attention. He poured over employee records until he found a decent match. The guy even has long dark hair like his. From there Suguru turned into a certified stalker on social media. He found every photo he could of the guy. The device only has his memory to go off of, so he had to be sure the image he created was perfect.

The second thing he needed to do was obtain security clearance. To do this, Suguru broke into Ryomen Tech’s employee admin portal. Which was a bitch to do by the way. It certainly wasn’t low level security. It was easy enough then to replicate the scientist’s ID badge. Suguru made a mental note to come back and alter his schedule. It was a little more difficult to rip a high security barcode to replace the originals, but Suguru managed. When he'd finally managed that, he placed an express order to have the badge made and delivered to him tomorrow. 

By the time he’d finished, it was closing in on 7 pm. Suguru was feeling quite smug about everything he had accomplished. He left his laptop on the coffee table so he could go find something to eat. He chefed up a simple rice bowl with some pork and settled himself at his coffee table again to eat. He was about three bites in when his phone rang.

The caller ID was blocked, but he knew instantly who was calling him. He accepted the call and balanced the phone between his shoulder and ear. “Hello?”

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

“This compromises everything, Itsuma.” Satoru squatted behind one of his mother’s many potted plants out on their engawa. His parents were arguing in hushed tones. His stomach was doing flips… They were arguing about him.

His father sighed, Satoru could imagine him pinching the part of his nose where his glasses sat. “I know. I don’t think we have a choice. We both have to go.”

He heard his mother’s light tread as she began to pace. “We can’t just leave him here, alone.”

“He won’t be alone. We’ll send him to the city to be with Misato while we sort this out.”

“The city? That’s a stone’s throw away from him.” His mother’s voice broke. “We might as well wrap him up in a gift basket and ship him straight to Sukuna’s door.”

There was silence and it was stifling. Satoru held his breath, worried he’d be caught. “What do you want me to do, Hikari? The fate of the world is resting on our shoulders. What do you want me to do?” He didn’t sound angry, he sounded tired. Like a man at the end of his rope.

“He’s our son. I don’t care what we have to do, but one of us has to stay behind.”

“Gojo?” Satoru turned his head and suddenly it was like he was transported to another time. His childhood home fell away, replaced by a cold, sterile room. A bright light obscured his vision and he felt the press of cold metal against his back.

He blinked, trying to bring everything into focus. “Mom?” He croaked. His tongue was as dry as a desert. 

“Your mother is dead. You won’t find her here.”

Satoru jolted back into awareness. He was met by immediate resistance. He was still tied down then. “What happened?”

“Routine check. You’re acclimating well.” Star stood off to the side, tapping away at her phone. 

He gritted his teeth. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“Don’t worry about it. There’s been a development.”

“Am I allowed to be enlightened with this information?”

Star looked up at him and slid her phone in her pocket. “Yes, actually.” She snapped her fingers and two stewards walked out from the wall. They unfastened his restraints and he immediately sat up.

“Follow me.”

Satoru scooted to the end of the metal table he’d been laid out on. It was then he realized he was only wearing a hospital gown. “Uh, do I get my clothes back?”

She didn’t turn to answer. “Eventually.”

Satoru huffed out a breath and stood to follow her. They were in a completely different part of the facility now. Satoru wasn’t even sure if they were in the same place. This area had a lot of offices, or maybe exam rooms, he wasn’t sure. Midway down Star stopped, pressed something on the wall Satoru couldn’t see, and a door opened. She led the way in. 

She gestured to another door, off the side of the room. “You’ll find clothes in there.” Satoru took a quick survey of the room. There was nothing personal adorning the space. No photos on the wall, no fun rug, there wasn’t even a fucking coat rack for God’s sake. There was just a metal desk with two plain chairs. Everything was steel or beige. It was ugly, and that was the thing that offended him the most about this situation. 

He didn’t look at Star as he passed. Satoru went straight to the room and slammed the door. It was a bathroom with a metal toilet and a dingy mirror. The sink only ran cold water. Satoru splashed some on his face. Behind him on a plastic tub sat a sleek black outfit. He padded over and cautiously ran a hand over the material and snatched it back. The fabric was freezing, and it was spandex. Spandex? What the actual fuck. Satoru held it out in front of him. It felt like nothing, like gravity didn’t apply to it. Okay, maybe not spandex.

The fabric thrummed in his hands. Okay, weird. He began the process of removing his gown. The hospital gown fell to his feet. At first, Satoru struggled to pull the suit on. It seemed to fight against him. Once he got it halfway up his thighs, though, the fabric began to melt against him like butter. It suctioned to him tightly as it climbed up his torso, finally ending at his collar. The suit sealed itself with a faint click. 

There was a humming sound and Satoru felt a sudden pressure at his temples and on the back of his neck. His heart raced in its cage, the thrum of it traversing the entire suit. Satoru turned to view his reflection in the mirror. He was unrecognizable to himself. It was completely black, but it had a raised design that mimicked webbing. The raised bits crawled over the suit, the lines adjusting symmetrically as if the suit was actually thinking. 

The suit began crawling up his neck like ink. His heart raced as it engulfed his face. The fabric settled again as a mask. The eyes were opal and smooth. They were insect-like and oval shaped. They reflected the light with eerie sharpness. His reflection was completely alien to him. His stomach burned, but he forced himself to breathe through the nausea. Satoru had to turn away from the mirror.

All five senses were on fire. The buzzing and the brightness of the lights were too much. He could feel the electricity in the air, the course of it through the wall. It was too overwhelming, Satoru crumpled to his knees. The suit thrummed like it was feeding off the discourse inside him. The realization hit him like a bullet train. This was designed for me. It’s made to react to everything I do and feel. Too much information was being gathered, far too much for him to process. It was like he had been given a sixth sense.

He began clawing at the suit, panic clouding all higher functions. An alarm was blaring in the background, or maybe it was just in his head. The suit clung to him, held him in a vice. The bathroom door burst open and the stewards from before rushed in. They crowded him, he thrashed against them as they attempted to pull him to feet. Someone was screaming, like proper bloody-murder screaming. A banshee had descended upon him. Crawled inside him, behind his ribs. He was the one screaming.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Monday October 12th 

The room was dark and he was laying flat on his back. Satoru’s heart thudded in his chest, but it felt weird… Like it was happening outside of him. Sweat clung to him like a thin sheet. A shaky hand raised to his face, the suit was off. Carefully, Satoru sat up. He found himself on a cot in the office from before. A light in the corner turned on and he shielded his eyes from the light. “We were not expecting that.” Star’s voice reached him, but just barely. He felt like he’d been submerged underwater. He was groggy and sluggish and his senses felt blunted compared to earlier.

“Can I go home now?” Satoru asked. His mouth was still dry so his voice sounded raspy.

“Not yet. We still need to discuss your mission.” She did not move from her perch in the corner. A comfy looking arm chair had been brought in for her. “Your sedatives also have to fully wear off.”

Satoru closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch. He’d been changed into a loose fitting tee and a pair of boxers. Sedatives, that’s what’s making everything seem slow and far away, then. “Can I get some water first?” The question comes out barely above a whisper. His throat was raw. Probably from the screaming. A steward appeared with a glass of water. Satoru wordlessly accepted it and gulped it down. It was gone in mere seconds, he wiped dribble from his chin and mouth. 

“Satisfied?” Star asked. 

Satoru nodded. “I want to check on my cousin.”

“She’s fine. We already sent her a text. She’s out with friends.”

“What time is it? It’s a school night, she should be home. I should be home!”

“You may leave as soon as we discuss mission details.”

Satoru crossed his arms over his chest. “You realize I have midterms tomorrow.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

He ground his teeth together, this fucking bitch. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Star wasted no time. “Tomorrow night there is going to be a break in at one of the laboratory campuses.”

“Okay?” Satoru raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. “What does that have to do with me?”

“We want you to apprehend them.”

Satoru blinked. “What if they pull a gun on me?”

She didn’t flinch. “The suit has safeguards against that.”

His breath caught in his throat. Panic bloomed inside him, quick as a flame to dry grass. “Fuck that. I’m not putting that torture device back on.”

“You will.”

And he knew there was no room for argument. Not if he wanted to keep Riko safe. He nodded, though tears burned behind his eyes. “Fine. What do I need to know?”

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Rain pounded against the pavement as Satoru wanted for a cab. Star had offered one of Ryomen Tech’s personal drivers, but he’d declined. He needed distance -from her and all of this crazy shit. His phone sat dormant in his pocket. He hadn’t really looked through it yet; he was sure it was bugged, but his old phone probably was too. Satoru retrieved it and looked at the time. 3:37 am. Great, another sleepless night.

He sighed and navigated to his contact list. All of his previous contacts had already been entered. Definitely bugged. His thumb hovered over Suguru’s contact anyways. They probably knew all there was to know about them, so what did it matter if he called him?

Suguru answered on the second ring. “Hello?” His voice was husky from sleep. It made Satoru’s stomach drop about four stories.

“Suguru?” His throat was still raw, the name came out all cracked and splintering.

“Satoru? Are you okay?” No. No I’m not. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again.

Satoru didn’t say it. “Can-” His voice faltered. Tears welled up again, mingled with the rain that was already clumping his eyelashes together. A quiet sob slipped out before he could catch it.

“Where are you?” Suguru asked, his voice was soft and tender. A complete contrast to how Satoru felt, raw and broken.

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Would it be okay if I stopped by?”

 There was rustling on the other end, the sound of blankets shifting. “Satoru, it’s almost four. What’s wrong?”

“I think I need-” you, he wanted to say, but swallowed the confession instead. He was a mess right now. “You’re right it’s late, I should-”

“Yes.” Suguru interrupted. “Toru, of course you can come over. I’ll text you the address. You alright to make it here by yourself?” His words were filled to the brim with care and concern.

Satoru nodded, dumbly, before remembering Suguru couldn’t see him. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you soon.”

“I just sent it. Be careful, alright?”

Satoru attempted his usual confidence, “Always am.” His voice was too wobbly to pull it off though.

A pause. “Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’m going to check in on Riko, my cab is almost here.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

“Yeah,” Satoru breathed, ending the call just as his phone pinged with the address.

3:50 am

ME: u doin alright?

Satoru’s cab pulled up as he waited for Riko’s response. He didn’t have her location -hated that he didn’t. His stomach did somersaults as he slid into the backseat. The cab ride would only be about 15 minutes, it would’ve probably been shorter if this city ever went to sleep. Even nearing four in the morning, the street was still congested with other cars. 

RIKO: yes! omw home, you there?

ME: no crashing w a friend tnt i think

ME: lmk when ur home

RIKO: OK MOM! love you!

Satoru smiled, the first real smile he’d had in hours. Since their moment in the living room.

ME: luv u 2 sweetie!

The cab pulled up to a modern apartment building, glass and warm light spilling into the rain. It had a cafe below it and shops on the next two levels. Satoru paid and thanked the driver before navigating his way to the residential entrance. He paused in the drizzle. For just a second he froze and wondered if he was making the right call. As much as he wanted to see Suguru, Satoru couldn’t shake the anxious part telling him to turn back and go home. He wanted to see Riko with his own eyes, to know that she was in fact safe and out of harm's way. His phone pinged.

RIKO: home safe! bed time now zzzzzz

RIKO: ill see you after class tomorrow

RIKO: good luck on midterms!

Satoru’s chest warmed and ached. She was fine, he was just being paranoid.

ME: thx! were gonna have 2 discus a curfew tho

RIKO: cant hear you im sleeping

He rolled his eyes and double-checked Suguru’s last message again for the apartment number. He buzzed the intercom. 

“Satoru?” Suguru’s voice crackled through the speaker. 

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” His tone fell flat, humor lost somewhere, left behind with his suit, and with Star, and all of her fucking goons.

Suguru laughed softly -steady and familiar. It lifted his spirits. “Get your ass up here.” The door buzzed and Satoru stepped through. The warmth enveloped him. Satoru took the stairs instead of the elevator. He weaved his way up to the sixth floor. He didn’t have to knock. As soon as he made it to Suguru’s front door, it opened. 

Suguru stood there rumpled, barefoot, and eyes heavy from sleep. Satoru didn’t think. He just moved. The man standing there was his for the taking. He threw himself forward, got his arms around him and pulled him close, completely collapsing against Suguru’s chest.

Suguru didn’t miss a beat. He caught Satoru easily, and pulled him in tight. Satoru was shaking and soaked through to the bone, but Suguru didn’t seem to care. He only drew him in closer. Suguru steadied him, murmuring his name in a low hushed tone as if he was afraid to startle him. He led Satoru inside, water dripped off of him, leaving puddles on Suguru’s hardwood floors. Satoru barely registered any of it. All he could focus on was the sound of their heart beats pounding in his ear drum.

“Hey, hey… you’re freezing,” Suguru said softly. His voice thick with worry as he threaded his fingers through Satoru’s drenched hair, craning back to get a better look at him.

“It’s fine.” Satoru mumbled, voice breaking on the words. He nuzzled his face into Suguru’s neck, chasing after his warmth.

“Let me get you a towel and something dry to change into.” Suguru suggested.

Satoru nodded, numbly disentangling himself from Suguru. The loss was instant and physical -something real that breathed alongside him. 

“I’ll only be a minute.” Suguru said but hesitated before turning away. As if he were scared, Satoru would vanish if he looked away.

“Okay,” Satoru whispered, scrubbing at his eyes. When Suguru disappeared down the hall, silence filled in the empty spaces around him. He suddenly felt like an intruder -an elephant in a porcelain shop. Too loud and too wrong to belong there in Suguru’s apartment.

Suguru returned, a towel and a neatly folded change of clothes in hand. Satoru accepted them. “The bathroom is the first door on the left.” He said, and gestured down the hallway.

Satoru nodded. “Can I leave my bag by the door?” It was soaked through, heavy with rain and everything else he carried.

“Of course.” Suguru’s smile was small, but warm.

He dropped his bag and kicked off his shoes before padding to the bathroom. He threw his wet clothes over the tub to dry, then toweled off. The cotton was rough but grounding against his skin. Suguru had been right -Satoru was freezing. His teeth chattered as he ran the towel over his hair and then down his neck, over the stubborn bruise that still bloomed across his ribs. 

The clothes Suguru gave him were soft and oversized: A plain black jumper, matching sweatpants, and thick wool socks. It was a cozy ensemble, and had Suguru’s lingering scent -cedarwood and laundry soap, something clean and steady. The scent alone was enough to soothe his fraying nerves and quiet the noise in his head. He was in the eye of the storm, Suguru’s arms were his last safe harbor before the carnage swept him away.

When Satoru returned, he found Suguru sitting on the couch. Two steamy mugs of tea sat in front of him on the coffee table. Satoru froze, unsure how to proceed. He didn’t know how to be around Suguru right now. The scent of chamomile reached him. Then Suguru shifted, his back was against one of the armrests, one leg on the floor. He opened his arms toward Satoru. The decision was made for him.

Satoru gravitated toward him, collapsed into him for the second time within the same hour. They were chest to chest and his vision was blurring from unshed tears. Suguru settled one hand on the small of Satoru’s back, the other came up to cradle the back of his neck. Satoru’s own arms wrapped around Suguru’s torso. He buried his face in his shoulder. His whole body shook from the force he expended to keep the tears at bay.

“You look like shit.” Suguru murmured, his tone full of mirth and care that strangled Satoru’s heart.

“You should see the other guy,” Satoru rasped against his shoulder. Tears broke past their barrier and he sobbed then and curled into Suguru. They were so close he couldn’t decipher where his body ended and Suguru’s began. Still, it wasn’t enough, it never was when it came to them.

Suguru’s fingers brushed up and down his spine. It was meant to be soothing, but it just drove Satoru up the wall. He flinched, not from pain, but the intimacy of it all. Suguru’s hand stilled and silence settled between them. Which was decidedly worse, because all he could hear was his own struggling breathing as he sobbed. 

Time slipped through his fingers, but Suguru’s steady breathing helped ground him. The crying eventually subsided and Satoru felt hollowed out. Suguru squeezed his hip. “Talk to me. Please.” His tone was low and coaxing.

Satoru was shaking his head, but he whispered, “I think I’ve messed up. Worse than ever before.”

There was a sharp intake of breath. A pause. “Satoru, talk to me.” Suguru urged; his name on his lips was a plea.

So Satoru did. Sorta, because he still wasn’t sure about how this connected back to Suguru. He didn’t want to jeopardize his safety. So Satoru talked around the big truths, offering smaller ones instead. There was a fight, and it wasn’t meant to be real, but it had escalated, and he really could’ve died. He’d been called a weapon -told he’d been made into one.

Both of Suguru’s hands were on his waist now, holding him in place. Satoru raised up slightly to look Suguru in the eyes. His gaze dropped to his lips for just a second before continuing. A woman had cornered him. Threatened him and Riko if he didn’t cooperate. She knew too much about his family -his life. He was worried she knew about Suguru and Shoko too.

Satoru swallows hard. “There’s something wrong with me, Suguru,” Satoru whispered.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” He said it earnestly, but it didn’t matter. There was something wrong with him; he’d been infected. Hand-picked to be a living, breathing weapon.

“But there is.” Satoru blurted, voice shattered. His body shook again, maybe from the cold seeping back in, maybe from the panic -the trauma finally settling under his skin, sinking into his bones.

Suguru’s expression pinched, shadowed by thoughts he didn’t voice. He was drawing his own conclusions, piecing the bread crumbs back together. He squeezed Satoru’s waist again in reassurance and his dark expression fell away. “You don’t have to fix anything tonight,” he said and brushed a white lock from his eyes. His fingers lingered there for a beat before his hand fell away.

Satoru barked out a bitter laugh. “It’s not like I sleep anymore anyway.” He shakes his head. He leaned back into Suguru, his head resting on the other man’s chest. “Every time I close my eyes… I see them. The man, calling me a weapon, the woman forcing me to do her bidding.”

Suguru doesn’t say anything for a moment. His body tensed beneath Satoru. “What makes you a weapon?”

“I…” Satoru’s mouth snapped shut. He didn’t know how to tell him -didn’t know if he wanted to.

“Satoru, you know you can tell me anything.” A hand ran up his spine again. Satoru didn’t flinch this time.

“I have… I was bit by that spider at the institute. And it transferred its DNA to me and now I’m literally Spider-Man.” The words punched out of him. His heart pounded in his chest.

Quietly, Suguru said, “Look at me.”

Satoru listened and met his gaze again. “I know what it sounds like. I know it’s crazy, but I can show you.”

“Satoru, stop. I already know. Or… well, I didn’t know-know until now. But I suspected something was wrong. I saw the signs that something had happened, that you were changed somehow.”

Satoru's spine snapped straight. He sat upright, desperate to be seen, but still disbelieving. “You knew?” His tone was sharp and breathless. Satoru’s eyes went wide as saucers.

Suguru nodded. “I knew.”

Satoru pushed himself back fully so his knees pressed into the couch and he had more leverage. He blinked at Suguru who seemed frozen to the spot -like if he moved now, Satoru would run away. He was probably right. But Satoru found himself nodding and then he was reaching out and grabbing a fist full of Suguru’s collar. He pulled the other forward. They were nose to nose.

“You knew?” Satoru asked again, tone still sharp. He felt crazy.

“Yes.” Suguru ran his tongue along his bottom lip.

It was insane, but of course Suguru would already know. No one knew him better. The only logical next step Satoru’s fizzed out brain could come up with was to kiss him. He wanted to, but it would change everything. He only allowed himself a moment of hesitation. But the decision had been made a long time ago. He leaned in and their lips pressed together. 

Satoru knew the kiss was rough and desperate. He tasted rain and salt from his own tears -felt Suguru’s breath catch. Suguru’s hands remained frozen on his waist -not yet returning the kiss. The world fell away, all that was left was the static in his brain. The thing he’d wanted for years was finally happening. The beginning he’d been pining after. 

It started to feel more like an ending. Neither of them moved. Satoru was steeling himself to pull away, half-formed apologies ready to spill out of him. But then Suguru exhaled, the sound shaky, human, and that was all it took. Suguru dragged him forward by his hips. The world was folding in on itself. Satoru went a little boneless. Desperate to close the gap between them. Suguru’s hands cupped his face, pulling him impossibly closer. Their breaths mingle together; the kiss was nothing gentle. It was clumsy and all-consuming. Their teeth desperately clashed together. 

Satoru roved his hands up Suguru’s torso, up to his shoulders. They charted their own way up his neck, pausing to tug on his earlobe, before making their home in the mess of Suguru’s hair. Satoru held tight to the onyx locks, scared the floor would yawn open beneath him if he let go. Suguru made a low sound in his throat -half groan, half a name. For the first time all night, Satoru felt something real. He wasn’t sure if this was salvation or ruination. He didn’t care; he craved more. He wanted to drown in it; he wanted to be forgiven by it.

Satoru’s phone rang but he ignored it, chasing after another sound Suguru made.

Suguru reluctantly broke the kiss. He was panting, and the sound filled Satoru with a hunger he’d never known before. “You should get that.” The words fanned across Satoru’s lips.

“Don’t wanna.” Satoru whined and leaned back in. 

Suguru smiled into it, but leaned back again when Satoru’s phone rang once more. “It could be important.”

Satoru rolled his eyes, ever indignant. “They can fucking wait.” He peppered kisses over Suguru’s collarbones, trailing them up his neck. He nipped at his ear lobe. Suguru laughed, it was feather light. It made all of his problems melt away, if only for that moment.

Suguru was nodding and he was still panting. It was making Satoru mental. “Yeah, you’re right.” Suguru got his hands under Satoru’s jumper and ran his fingers down his abdomen. “This has waited long enough.”

Satoru pulled back to grin at him. “My thoughts exactly.” He recaptured Suguru’s mouth. Lips, teeth, tongue. Satoru gasped as Suguru licked the roof of his mouth. Suguru removed one hand from Satoru’s jumper and traced his fingers down Satoru’s neck to his collarbone. Satoru shivered and pressed closer, knees bracketing Suguru’s thighs. He tilted his head, chasing after Suguru’s lips. 

It was messy and graceless. The kind of kiss that left nothing hidden -apologies, grief, longing. All of it spilled out of them into the open spaces of the world. Suguru broke again to catch his breath -to breathe Satoru’s name against his mouth. It made his toes curl, and the longing in his chest amplified. 

Satoru kissed him again, slower this time. His hands moved down from his hair to splay across his chest. He felt every exhale, every tiny tremor. He’d been lost in the cold darkness; this was his homecoming. He’d been found. Suguru still knew him, still saw him clearer than anybody else in his life.

Suguru pulled back enough to look at him. His pupils were blown wide, his voice rough. “I see you. You’re not their weapon. You’re more than your blood, Satoru.”

His blood sang. Satoru laughed, and Suguru swallowed the sound with another kiss -slow and tender. Suguru’s hands slid up into Satoru’s hair, thumbs brushing the corners of his jaw. The outside world shrank to the sound of their steady breathing. His phone rang again and they both ignored it. Star can go fuck herself. 

A long while after that, once they’d broken apart, they didn’t move far. Their foreheads remained pressed together -noses brushing together. Satoru could feel the tremors still running through Suguru’s hands where they rested on his hips.

“You’re shaking,” Suguru whispered.

“So are you,” Satoru breathed. 

Suguru huffed out a laugh, soft and close. “You’re still awful at timing.”

Satoru smiled, eyes fluttering closed. “Yeah, but I’m getting better at falling.”

“Into trouble?”

“Into you.”

Suguru pulled him in again for a chaste kiss. Then he lay back on the couch, pulling Satoru after him. Satoru willingly went. Suguru grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and threw it over them. Adrenaline gave way to exhaustion now.

“Sleep,” Suguru murmured into his hair, pressing a soft kiss there. “We’ll figure the rest out later.”

Satoru didn’t answer. His eyes fell closed, Suguru’s heartbeat thrummed steadily against his ear. Something real in a night that had felt like it might tear him apart.

Finally, sleep beckoned him.

Chapter Text

Monday October 12th

In the morning, Satoru found himself still curled up on Suguru’s chest. The other man was still asleep. A line of drool hung from the side of his chin. The sight of it made him smile like a damn fool. It shouldn’t have been cute, but it was, and it hit him right in the chest. It finally happened, and it wasn’t the end of the world. We’re still ourselves, we get to have this. Satoru took a moment to just breathe Suguru in -hear his heart beat in time with his own. Suguru’s arms were a steady anchor around his waist.

He wanted to enjoy this moment -stay in it forever, because Satoru knew what was waiting for him. He knew that happy moments were going to be few and far between. Satoru thought though, that if Suguru remained by his side, he’d be able to weather all of the hardships to come. A dull pain thudded behind his eyes, but he didn’t mind it much, nothing could spoil this moment.

Carefully, Satoru stretched up to trail kisses up the column of Suguru’s neck. Suguru’s skin was warm and faintly smelled like soap and the detergent he’d always complained about. Satoru made his way up to his jaw line, then his cheek, across to his nose, up to his temple. By the time Satoru made his way to Suguru’s lips, the other was stirring. Suguru wore a sleepy smile and his eyes were half lidded. “So you remember this time?” Suguru asked, voice equal parts teasing and soft.

Satoru pecked his lips, “Remember what?” He asked and kissed Suguru’s jaw again. He wanted to bite it, his nose too, God he loved Suguru’s nose. He wanted to rake his teeth across the bridge of it.

Suguru’s breath caught in his throat. “Our kiss,” he murmured. “You didn’t remember the last one.” He said a little breathlessly.

Satoru pulled back a little, eyebrows drawn together. “I remember our last kiss. It was at the airport when you left.”

Suguru shook his head. “No, it was last Tuesday. After Shoko patched you up from your accident.” He leaned up too, readjusted the both of them so he could sit with his back against the arm rest, and pull Satoru closer. “I was tucking you in for the night, and you basically pulled me on top of you and begged me to stay.”

Satoru’s face turned beet-red. Well, that’s one thing sorted at least. It was Suguru. “Oh my God.” Satoru covered his face. “I- well, I kinda remember. I wasn’t sure if it was real.”

Suguru circled his hands around Satoru’s wrists and gently pulled his hands away from his face. Suguru was grinning at him. “It was real.”

He didn’t think it was possible to flush any farther, but he felt like he was creating a new shade of red. “I promise our next serious kiss won’t involve me crying all over you.”

Suguru brushed stray hair from Satoru’s face. “I don’t mind.”

His words dropped a hornet’s nest in his stomach. This is real. We get to have this. He leaned in and kissed him -a true and proper, slow kiss. Satoru’s head spun as he weaved his fingers through Suguru’s hair. He didn’t even mind the morning breath. When they broke apart, both slightly breathless, Satoru said, “You’re the best.”

 Suguru nipped at Satoru’s bottom lip, “I don’t know, I think that title goes to you.” Satoru laughed, and then his stomach growled. Suguru smiled at him, “Come on, I’ll make breakfast.” Satoru grinned back. He leaned in for one more kiss before climbing off of Suguru.

Suguru stood and stretched, his nightshirt riding up his chest. Satoru stuck his chilled hands underneath, right on his abdomen and Suguru let out a delightful shriek and tried to pull away. Satoru laughed and pulled him closer by his hips. “What’s wrong?” He asked innocently.

“Your hands are freezing!” Suguru shouted, but he was laughing.

Satoru pouted, “I need you to warm them up.”

Suguru was still laughing as he pushed him towards the bathroom. “Go run a comb through your hair, it’s a mess.”

He grinned as Suguru walked toward the sink in the kitchen. “You’re one to talk,” he teased back. Satoru grabbed his phone from the coffee table -it was completely dead. “Hey, do you have a charger I can use?”

Suguru was already busy pulling pans from the cabinets and ingredients from the fridge. “Yeah, between the couch and end table.”

Satoru found it and left his phone to charge. He slid into one of the stools at the island. He glanced at the clock on the stove. 11:38. “Shit, is that time?”

Frowning, Suguru looked back at him over his shoulder. “Yeah, what’s wrong?”

Sighing, Satoru whined, “Fuuuuck me. I missed my first midterm.”

“I might if you ask nicely,” Suguru said in a teasing tone as he walked around the counter.

Satoru blinked. “What?”

Suguru moved in close, slung his arms around Satoru’s neck, then leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Fuck you. I will, but only if you ask nicely.” Satoru could feel Suguru grinning into the side of his face.

He smacked him on the shoulder, a little too hard, but he didn’t care. His face was burning. “Suguru, this is serious!” He shouted, but his tone held no real bite.

Suguru leaned back so he could see Satoru’s face. He was grinning, still. “You’re so adorable when you’re flustered.” He pecked Satoru on the nose. Satoru grumbled, but didn’t push Suguru away. He liked this -wanted to be teased, kissed, taken care of, everything. Satoru wanted everything. “I’m sorry about the test. Do you think you can talk to your professor about it?”

Satoru shook his head. “I don’t know. I can try, but honestly, it’s the least of my concerns at the present moment.”

Suguru frowned, “Satoru, this is your future. You want this degree. You want to start your master's next fall, right?”

“I mean, yeah, but obviously my circumstances are different now. I might not even live that-” Suguru’s eyes widened, and his grip on the back of Satoru’s neck tightened. Satoru snapped his mouth shut. He hadn’t meant to say it -give a voice to the ever-growing anxiety that he’d been marked for death. He sighed through his nose. Quietly, he said, “We don’t know what’s going to happen. We can’t predict the future.”

Satoru watched as Suguru’s throat worked to swallow. “You’re not.” Suguru’s voice cracked. Suguru’s hands moved from his neck to cup his face. “Satoru,” A pause. Suguru shook his head and blinked hard, onyx lashes brushing his tanned cheekbones. “Toru, you’re not going to die.”

Satoru chewed on his bottom lip and nodded. “Okay, you’re right.” The tension was palpable, and Satoru didn’t know how to fix it. So he did the thing he does best and deflected with humor. He grinned at Suguru and knocked their heads together. “I’m going to live forever.”

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

After they finished with breakfast, they sat on the couch together. Satoru was sitting in Suguru’s lap, his back to the other man’s chest. Satoru had grabbed his laptop from his waterlogged backpack and was currently sending apology emails to his professors for the midterms he’d miss today. Suguru had turned on a shitty rom-com movie to watch. He absent-mindedly played with the scruff of hair at the nape of Satoru’s neck.

“Can you hand me my phone?” Satoru asked. He supposed it was time to see what the fuck Star had wanted from him. Suguru reached over to unplug it and then handed it over. “Thanks.”

His lockscreen showed seven missed calls from Riko. Seven. My phone only rang three times? Fuck. He set his laptop down and stood from Suguru’s lap. “What’s wrong?” Suguru asked, following Satoru to the front door. 

Satoru paused, and his stomach twisted. “The phone calls. They were from Riko. I’m just going to step out real quick to call her.”

Suguru grabbed his wrist before they reached the door. He gave it a comforting squeeze. “Okay, I’ll be right here.”

Satoru nodded and then stepped out the door.

He dialed Riko’s number, but she didn’t pick up. If she’d gone to school, the call would’ve gone straight to voicemail because she always turns her phone off. Satoru dialed the number again and got the same results. Something wasn’t right. Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach.

He dialed his aunt's number, but she was already at work. Satoru waited to leave her a voicemail. “Hey, Auntie. Hope all is good where you are. I’m just calling to check in and catch up. Call me back, please!” He didn’t want to prematurely scare her into thinking the worst had happened -though he was already doing that himself. He called Riko again, but still no one picked up the phone. I should’ve gone home. I should’ve made sure she was safe. I was being selfish. Again.

Satoru stumbled back into the apartment. Automatically, Suguru was there -concern clear on his face. Satoru’s feet move on their own. He buried his face in Suguru’s chest. The other’s arms come up to wrap around him. “What happened?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He didn’t have the words -didn’t want to speak anything into existence. Satoru should’ve been there with her. He should’ve gone straight home.

Again, Suguru asked softly, “Toru, what happened?”

The softness of Suguru’s tone grated against him; he didn’t feel like he deserved it -he didn’t deserve him. “I don’t know, she’s not answering.” Satoru heaved down a shaky breath. The laugh track from the TV frayed his nerves, and the exhaust fan above the stove was loud in his ears. The hum from the fridge buzzed against his temple. Everything was too much again. He pushed himself back from Suguru, who did his best not to react. Just a downturn of his lips. “I- I called my aunt, but she’s working. I don’t think she’ll know anything.”

“Okay, I’ll call the police station and see if anything has been reported around your neighborhood.” Satoru didn’t say anything in return. He was crouching and covering his ears. His eyes were still screwed tightly shut. It was too much, and he wasn’t equipped to handle any of it. Even with Suguru there, it wasn’t enough. Satoru shouldn’t be here in the first place. He should’ve gone home -should’ve gone to school and taken his midterms. He should’ve picked up the damn phone instead of caving in to his desires. He wasn’t allowed this anymore -a normal life where he gets a boyfriend and gets to be happy.

Satoru doesn’t know how long he remains crouched there, but his phone rang again. He grasped for it where it had fallen to the floor at some point during his episode. I’m someone who breaks down now. Someone who can’t be trusted alone. Someone who needs to be handled like glass. Not bothering to check the caller ID, Satoru answered. “Hello?” His voice was foreign to his ears.

“Hi, is this Gojo Satoru?” A feminine voice asked.

“Yes.” He looked at the number, it was Riko’s phone, but that wasn’t her voice.

“Okay, good. We are calling to inform you that your cousin was admitted to the hospital early this morning.”

“Is she okay?” His voice cracked on the last word.

“She’s stable for now. I am not allowed to disclose much over the phone, but I can confirm that she is at Tokyo General.”

“Okay, thank you, I’m on my way.” He didn’t wait for a reply. He ended the call and started gathering his stuff. Suguru appeared from the hallway.

“Was that her?” He asked.

Satoru shook his head as he began lacing up his shoes. They were still wet from the night before. He cringed as he stood up and felt them squish beneath him. “It was some nurse. She’s at T-Gen.”

“Is she okay?”

Satoru huffed, “I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me anything beyond: she’s stable. Whatever the fuck that’s supposed to mean.”

“I’ll just grab my coat, one second.”

Bile rose in his throat. Half of him didn’t want Suguru to go with him. Satoru wanted him to stay here, where he was safe and out of Star’s grasp. The other half very much needed Suguru to come with him. So he could keep an eye on Suguru -know without a doubt that he was safe. So Suguru could be his anchor. 

Suguru turned toward the hallway -toward danger -and something in Satoru snapped loose. “No!” He blurted. Suguru stopped and stared at him. Satoru swallowed, “I mean, you don’t have to.”

Suguru gave him a sad smile, “Satoru, I want to… I want to be there for you and Riko.” He’d said it so earnestly. 

It made Satoru feel even worse, but he relented, nodding his head and saying, “Just hurry, please.”

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Tokyo General loomed ahead like a steel monolith -too bright, too clean, too alive for the quiet dread that constricted Satoru’s lungs. Sliding doors parted for him and Suguru, spilling cool, bright fluorescent light across the inside tiled floor. The antiseptic smell hit him -like a punch to the gut. His stomach lurched, and Suguru took his hand in his. Suguru rubbed soft circles into the back of Satoru’s hand with his thumb. 

He pulled Suguru along with him. Their pace just wasn’t fast enough. They stopped at the front desk, his legs wobbled beneath him.

“Hi -hi, I’m looking for my cousin. Amanai Riko.” The words tumbled out of him too fast, barely coherent.

The nurse behind the glass glanced away from her computer screen -expression professional and unmoved. She turned back to her screen to type something in. Suguru squeezed his hand. “Relation?” She asked.

“Cousin,” Satoru repeated. With his free hand, he tapped out an erratic rhythm on the cool marble counter.

She didn’t look back at him -just absently nodded her head as she typed. “She was admitted earlier this morning. She’s stable.”

He huffed out a frustrated breath. She wasn’t understanding him. “Yeah. I was told that already.” Satoru snapped, more panicked than angry. Pause. Another reassuring squeeze from Suguru. Though she wasn’t looking, he flashed her a tight smile. “What happened? Who brought her in? Is she hurt? Can I see her?”

“I’m afraid I can’t release that information until the doctor approves-”

“But she’s my cousin-”

Suguru blocked his view of the woman. His free hand came up to clasp Satoru’s shoulder. “Breathe,” he murmured.

Satoru swallowed, throat tight. “I want to see her,” his tone was small -quieter, more raw, and desperate.

The receptionist looked at him, expression softening by a shade. “Have a seat, please. Someone will be with you shortly.” Her tone remained neutral.

Right. Sit. Do nothing. Pretend that I’m not drowning in guilt and worry.

With a gentle hand, Suguru guided him to the plastic chairs lining the waiting room wall. The second Satoru hit the seat, his legs bounced uncontrollably. His hands twitched. He couldn’t sit still. His mind was swarmed with worst-case scenarios -ones that haunted him since childhood, all sirens, cold morgues, and closed caskets.

Suguru sat beside him, close but not pressing. “Toru,” he started softly. “Hey, look at me.” Satoru dragged his eyes away from the reception desk to meet Suguru’s gaze -his expression was steady, controlled, but his fingers trembled as they gripped Satoru’s knee. He leaned closer, “Try to breathe with me.”

“Don’t-” Satoru’s voice broke. “Don’t say it like that. Like I’m -like I’m fragile.”

Suguru nodded. Adjusted. “Okay. Then just… stay with me.”

Satoru’s jaw clenched and unclenched. He didn’t want comfort -he wanted fucking answers.

Suguru squeezed his knee again. “The nurse said she was stable. They don’t say that unless she’s safe.”

“Then why won’t they tell me what happened?” Satoru hissed. “Why isn’t Riko answering?” His breath shuddered. “Suguru -what if it was them?” His mind flashed back to the Butcher’s hands closing around his throat. He couldn’t breathe. His vision swam bright and hot. 

Suguru tensed beside him. He didn’t even know the whole story. “We don’t know that.”

“But I do,” Satoru whispered. “I know it’s them. Who else would want to hurt her?”

Silence. Suguru didn’t contradict him. Before Satoru could spiral further, a physician stepped into the waiting room and called, “Family of Amanai Riko?”

Satoru shot to his feet so quickly the chair skidded out beneath him. “That’s me. Is she okay? What happened?”

The doctor folded his hands, unreadable. “Your cousin is stable. She’s undergoing observation. She’ll be moved to a long-term care room shortly. You can’t see her yet.”

Satoru’s spine went straight -his jaw clenched. Through his teeth, he asked, “Why not?”

“We’re still assessing the extent of her injuries.”

Injuries. Not a collapse. Not an illness. Injuries. Satoru’s blood turned to ice. “What -what kind of injuries?” Satoru’s voice cracked. His world was fracturing. “Was it -did she fall? Was she hit by a car? Was she -was someone-?” He gasped for breath. “Please. Just tell me.”

The doctor seemed hesitant. His jaw tightened briefly -the first crack in his professional mask. “We don’t have all the details. The EMTs reported signs of forced entry at her residence. That’s all I can say for now.” That was all he said. He watched the tails of the doctor’s white coat fan out as he moved on -onto the next statistic.

The floor slid out from beneath him. The ground yawned open; it was finally ready to swallow him whole. He tilted to the side -like a great Japanese cypress being sawed down. Suguru grabbed his arm when his knees nearly buckled. Bile rose in his throat. He was going to be sick.

Suguru held him upright, but Satoru shook him off. “She called me. She called me and I didn’t -I didn’t answer. If I’d picked up -if I’d just-”

Suguru grabbed one of his trembling hands. He captured Satoru’s chin and made him look him in the eyes. “Stop, you don’t know that. This isn’t your fault.” But it was. How could he not see that this was all my fucking fault?

“How can you say that?” Satoru whispered. His voice felt small -wrong.

Suguru’s jaw flexed. “Because guilt isn’t truth.” He took a deep breath. “Toru, you’re scared and you’re spiraling. But she’s alive -they said she’s stable. Focus on that.”

 He felt chilled to the bone again, but also hot, all at once. He was going to lose his breakfast all over the corridor’s floor. Before either spoke, two orderlies emerged pushing a bed down the hall. A curtain was drawn around the patient, but Satoru knew.

“Riko!” He screamed and tried to dart after her. Suguru tried to grab him around the waist, but Satoru was stronger, faster. 

“Satoru! Stop, they won’t let you-”

He didn’t care. He was running, and then he was being tackled. Two security guards piled on him. He was screaming, and tears streamed in rivulets down his cheeks. “Stop it! Let me go!” The orderlies escorted the bed behind a wide set of double doors. “Fuck! Get off of me!”

Suguru crouched beside him. “Satoru, I’m sorry, but you need to calm down. They won’t let you see her if you get trespassed.”

“They aren’t going to let me see her anyway!” Satoru screamed. “I have a right to see her! I’m her family!”

Sugruru got his hands on Satoru’s shoulders. The security guards backed off, and Satoru curled into Suguru. The other man ran a hand through Satoru’s hair -cradling him closer to his chest. “I’m sorry.” Suguru’s voice cracked.

Satoru sagged against him. “She was right there,” he choked. “She was right there and I couldn’t-”

“I know,” Suguru murmured and brushed tears from Satoru’s eyes. He hugged him tighter. The two of them remained on the floor for a long time. Suguru’s arms were locked around him -like a shield against the darkening world around them. Satoru sat shaking, feeling furious and hollow.

Eventually, Satoru pulled away, scrubbing at his face with trembling hands. “I just can’t do this. I can’t -not again.”

“I know, Toru. I know, I’m so sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.” Satoru looked down at his hands.

“You didn’t drag me into anything. I want to be here with you.” He sounded like he meant it. Satoru thought it would be better if he didn’t.

“Okay…,” Satoru sighed and closed his eyes. “We should probably get off the floor now. I’m done wallowing.”

A small smile pulled at Suguru’s lips. He leaned forward and knocked his forehead into Satoru’s. “Okay, yeah, let’s go find some place less… public.”

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

It was getting close to 5 pm. Suguru knew he needed to go, but he couldn’t leave Satoru. They’d received no new updates since the doctor spoke with them earlier. Suguru had spent the whole afternoon keeping Satoru glued together with carefully rationed words and steady hands. It never felt like he was doing enough. Satoru paced the small private waiting room, steps sharp and restless against the tile. Suguru had been able to pull some strings with the hospital staff to get the room. It wasn’t much, but it gave Satoru space to fall apart without being watched.

What unnerved Suguru most was the silence. Satoru hadn’t spoken for two hours. A record, honestly, but Suguru hated it. Satoru’s phone rang. He reached for it, glanced at the screen, then shot Suguru a look -half nervous, half resigned. Satoru didn’t answer. His jaw was set -shoulders tight. His thumbs tapped furiously at the screen as he typed something back; each tap far too forceful. When he was done, he sank into a seat beside Suguru, boneless and exhausted. “Toru,” he said quietly, clearing his throat. “I have to leave soon. I have… an important meeting,” It occurred to him he hadn’t told him anything about FEAST, about wanting to start his own research institute. Now definitely wasn’t the time. But he needed to go. He needed to find evidence that would help them both. “But I can come back right after.”

Satoru let out a hoarse, defeated, “Fuck…”

Suguru’s stomach twisted. “What?” 

“I-” Satoru exhaled through his nose. “I was going to ask if you could stay here for a few hours. I also have something I need to do.” His voice cracked, and he ran his hands through his hair. “It’s fine, though, I’ll figure something out.”

Suguru frowned. For Satoru to even consider leaving Riko’s side, whatever he needed to do had to be tied to Ryomen Tech, too. They were both balancing secrets -both trying to protect each other -both failing to admit it. He hoped it would all be over soon so they could move on. Together. “I’ll call you as soon as I can. I promise.”

Suguru reached out and took Satoru’s hand. The other boy looked over at him, eyes rimmed red, exhausted down to the bone. Suguru studied him —really studied him -the tears drying on his cheeks -the tremor in his fingers -the bruised, sleepless shadows beneath his eyes. He wanted to take every burden off of himself. He couldn’t. Not yet.

“I’ll call you as soon as I can,” Suguru promised. “I swear.”

Satoru nodded and squeezed his hand like a lifeline. “Be careful. I—” His throat bobbed. “Suguru, please just… be careful.”

Suguru leaned in and brushed a soft kiss on his lips. “I will. But you have to promise me the same.”

“Okay.” Satoru swallowed again. “Call me. If I don’t answer, I’ll call you back. Promise.”

Suguru stood, but Satoru didn’t let go of his hand. He stood too—abruptly—and pulled Suguru into a hug that knocked the breath out of him. A small, broken sound escaped Satoru’s throat. “Come back to me,” Satoru whispered into his shoulder. “I can’t lose you. Not after—” His voice fractured completely. “Just come back.”

Suguru wrapped both arms around him, holding him as tightly as he dared, lips pressing into Satoru’s hair. “I will,” he murmured. “Toru, I promise. I’ll come back.”

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Satoru watched as Suguru walked away. His chest tightened as the door shut behind him. The emptiness consumed him -the waiting room felt too big, too bright, too quiet without Suguru there to anchor him. His heart constricted in his chest and his hands shook. He stood to pace again -he simply couldn’t afford another breakdown. Satoru was done crying.

He wanted nothing more than to see Riko, but he still wasn’t allowed. It was driving him up the wall. Suguru was gone, and he still had his own shit to do that evening. The worry was a living, breathing thing -clawing, gnawing, and relentless. Now Suguru was gone, off to attend this important meeting he hadn’t told Satoru about. The thought sent a cold shock through him: What if that’s the last time I see him? 

Satoru stopped pacing and gripped his phone. He knew who he needed, even if he hated himself for it. He unlocked his phone three different times, each time talking himself out of it. He didn’t want to drag her into this, but all he needed was someone here. Shoko would be safely tucked away in the waiting room. Satoru took a steadying breath, it didn’t help. Finally, he dialed her number. 

“Hello?” Shoko’s voice was dry and unimpressed.

“Shoko?” Satoru’s voice quivered.

Her irritation cut immediately through the line -like she already knows he’s done something stupid. “Satoru? You do realize that normal people don’t vanish for a week, right?”

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’ll explain, I just-” he gasped, his breath stuttering, growing too fast and shallow. “I just need someone here right now.”

Her tone immediately softened. “Where are you?”

“Something happened last night… I don’t have the details.” His eyes shut tightly, “Riko’s in the hospital.” He struggled to even whisper.

“What happened?” She asked, voice full of concern.

“I don’t know, the paramedics mentioned a break-in. I… I haven’t even been to the apartment yet to check for myself.”

A pause. Then he heard her slow exhale over the line. “Send me the room number. I’m coming.”

They say their goodbyes and Satoru is left alone again in the silence. It’s thick and soupy like fog surrounding a bay. His lighthouse was gone, and he had no hope of making it safely to shore without it. He just wanted Riko -wanted to hear her laugh -wanted to hug her. Satoru brought his feet up on the chair, pressed his thighs against his chest, and buried his face in his knees. He cried again -silently this time, exhausted tears that burned hot trails down his face.

When Shoko finally arrived, she bursted into the room. Her lab coat was half off her shoulder and her face was flushed. She looked like she’d just run a marathon -hair a little wild and slightly breathless. She still wore that permanent look of clinical precision, though dark circles shadowed her eyes. He stood and ran over to her, enveloping her in a quick, tight hug. Her arms wrapped around him in return, briefly, before she pushed him back slightly by the shoulders and held him there. She scanned him top to bottom, assessing the physical and emotional damage in one practiced sweep. 

“No concussion.” She murmured, brushing his forehead. “No fever. Pupils are a bit dilated, and your heart is beating out of your chest.” A faint smirk. “You’re panicking. Good to know some things never change.” Satoru almost laughed -almost started crying again. He let out something halfway between a laugh and a sob.

They settled down in chairs beside each other in the quiet of the private waiting room. The silence stretched between them not awkward, but heavy and charged with all the things left unsaid. Satoru’s knees were bouncing as he sat hunched over with his elbows digging into the tops of his thighs. Shoko placed a comforting hand between his shoulder blades. “You’re going to jump right out of your skin. Tell me what you can.”

He inhaled a shaky breath. Then he told her. Satoru weaved his tall tale -dancing around anything that crossed the line of “too dangerous.” “She called me last night -Riko did. I thought it was someone else, someone trying to mess with me. I ignored it.” His eyes turned glassy as his last words broke apart. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to rebuild the dam, pressing his palms hard into his eyes. “This morning, when I realized it was her, I tried to call her back, but she didn’t answer.” He shook Shoko off so he could stand and pace. He needed room to think -needed to expend all of the energy that was coiled tightly in his gut.

“I finally got a call back, but it wasn’t her. Just some nurse telling me Riko was here, but that she couldn’t tell me anything more.” His hands ran through his already disastrous hair. “Since I’ve arrived, the staff hasn’t been able to tell me anything beyond that she's stable, and that she’s being moved to a room for long-term care.”

“What do you think happened?” Shoko asked from her chair.

Satoru shook his head. “I don’t know…” He pressed the back of his trembling hand to his mouth. “There are people trying to fuck with me… I think they hurt her to get to me, but I don’t know.”

“The guy from your lab? The one Suguru beat the shit out of?”

Satoru sighed, “No, this has nothing to do with him.”

“Then who?” Shoko asked sternly. 

He turned away from her. “I don’t want to drag you into this.”

He heard her stand. She walked closer, but left enough space for him not to feel corralled. “No. You’re trying to deal with everything alone. You always do that. And you always make it worse.” Her tone is soft, but her words hit him with the force of a bullet train. I’m just trying to keep everyone safe. I can’t lose anyone else. I’ve already lost my parents, and I might have already lost Riko.

For a long moment, neither said anything. They remained suspended in silence. He tried to collect himself -his thoughts, his emotions. Slowly, he turned to look at her. She was tired. He could tell from the way she carried herself in that moment. It was midterms week, and he dragged her out here anyway. I’m always being selfish. Always hurting the people I care about, even when I’m doing everything I can not to. “Can you stay here for her?” He whispered. “Just until I get back. I need to check something -need to make sure none of this happens again.”

A pause. She studied him, then Shoko sighed and rubbed her eyes. She was tired, too. “Of course I’ll stay. You don’t even have to ask, idiot.” Satoru hated that he knew she was being honest. Hated himself more for taking advantage of her kindness. He deflated -shoulders drooping forward as his eyes burned. She took another step forward and poked his forehead. “But you’re going to tell me the whole story eventually. I’m done being the clueless friend. You owe me that much.”

Shoko isn’t huge on public displays of affection. She might be even worse than he is with emotionally vulnerable moments, but he knew she had him in this -in everything, really. He leaned in and hugged her tightly. She stiffened slightly, like she wasn’t expecting that to be his reaction -then she kinda melted against him in a way only Shoko could and begrudgingly patted his back. “Okay, okay. Do not get snot all over me.”

Satoru laughed and rubbed his face into the shoulder of her lab coat. She shoved him away, but she was laughing. “Ugh, Satoru, you’re so disgusting!”

He smiled and wiped his nose on his sleeves before scrubbing at his face. “Yeah, but you love me.”

Shoko softly smiled back, “Yeah, I do.”

Before leaving, Satoru looked back at Shoko. She had her laptop out, already clicking away at the keys. He smiled because he knew that he really could count on her for anything. Even if it left him feeling guilty, she’d always drop everything to be there when he needed her to. 

“Don’t do anything stupid without me,” Shoko said without looking up from her laptop. Satoru turned his gaze toward the door -steeling himself for what awaited him that night.

“No promises,” he said as he slipped out of the waiting room into the hallway.

Here, it was dimmer than inside the waiting room. A long tunnel of tiled floors and low humming lights stretched out on both sides of him. Satoru exhaled slowly, trying to force his heartbeat back down his throat. Shoko would stay, for Riko, -for him. Suguru was off to do what he needed. For the first time since he answered the nurse’s call that morning, Satoru was truly alone. 

He’d barely made it ten steps before his phone lit up in his hand. He looked at the caller ID, Unknown. Satoru very much knew who was waiting on the other side of the line. Of fucking course. His grip tightened around the phone until the frame buckled. He ignored it. He wanted to toss it in a biohazard bin and walk away. 

But Riko was here in the hospital because this -because of Star, because of Ryomen Tech, because of him. He lifted the phone to his ear. “Yeah?” No greeting. No patience.

Star’s voice was clear through the speaker, sharp and sweet like glass shards dipped in honey. “Good evening, Ghost. I’ve been trying to reach you.”

His jaw clenched, “Yeah, well, I’ve been busy.”

“Aww. Are you hurt?” She cooed. 

Satoru stopped walking. Anger bloomed inside him -hot and bright white. “You tell me.” He said, voice low, edging the line of danger. “Did you do it?”

A beat, a pause. Not hesitating, Star was weighing her options. Picking which piece to move next in their shared game of chess. Then she laughed; it was light and airy. The kind of laugh people give when they’re bored with lying. “Do what, Ghost?”

“You know exactly what.” He hissed through his teeth. “Riko. My cousin. She was hurt last night. One of your scumbags forced their way into our apartment.” His words broke -he couldn’t breathe. “The only person who knows to use Riko against me is you.”

Star tsked. “Ghost, that sounds… awful. But we had nothing to do with that.”

“Bullshit,” he spat.

Another beat of silence. This one was longer than the last. He imagined her smiling, tilting her head, amused at how predictable she thinks he is. “You seem stressed,” she said lightly. “Anyway, we need you here. Arrive at the same place as last night.” Satoru’s stomach twisted -she wanted him to go back there?

“I’m not your fucking weapon,” Satoru growled.

“Then stop behaving like one,” she countered without missing a beat. “I’ve sent a car to collect you.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not until I know Riko is safe.”

“How sentimental,” Star murmured. “It’s a liability, Satoru.” It was the first time she’d referred to him by just his first name. It sounded dissonant on her tongue. “You know that, right? Loved ones often are.” His anger froze over. She was warning him -promising him -threatening him. It was so at odds with how soft-spoken the words were.

He whispered, “If you touch her again, I swear to God-”

“Oh, Ghost, honestly.” He could hear the smile playing on her lips. “I don’t need to do anything. You will come willingly soon enough. The cars arrived.” The call ended.

Satoru’s hand shook so violently that he nearly dropped the phone. His breath came fast, sharp, far too loud for the quiet hall. He braced a palm against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut. The tile was cool and grounding, but just barely. They did this. For just a pause, Satoru wished Suguru was here with him -then he hated himself for even thinking it. They fucking did this. Satoru shoved off the wall and barreled toward the stairwell.

He was done waiting around for updates. He wasn’t going to be cornered again -snarling like some wounded animal. Satoru was done being afraid. He was done reacting -done playing with defensive tactics.

If Star wanted a weapon so badly… Satoru bared his teeth in a humorless smile. “Then that’s exactly what she’s going to get.” He ran down the flights of stairs, picking up more and more speed. He avoided his reflection in the windows. He knew what he’d find -pale, hollowed eyes, cracking with fury and something dangerously close to resolve.

He made it outside of the hospital. He tugged up his hood and slid into the back of the glossy black car waiting for him. It was time to plot his own moves -claim his own checkmate.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Satoru sat rigid in the backseat. His hands trembled, so he curled them into fists until they stopped. He took a steadying breath. He could do this -compartmentalize his fears neatly in a box and tuck them in the back of his mind -channel his feelings into something useful, a weapon for his own use. His anger simmered into purpose -controlled, cold, and lethal. Satoru watched the city lights pass outside his window. 

The car was traveling to a different part of Tokyo. Not the same as where the abandoned apartment buildings had been. “Hey, where are we going?” Satoru tried to ask the driver, but the man didn’t answer. He didn’t even peer into the mirror to look at himself. It was slightly unsettling, but mostly it was just infuriating. The silence gave way to the notion that Star was watching them -listening to everything. He crossed his arms and tucked his chin into his chest.

When the car slowed and pulled into a back alley, Satoru looked out the window again. He didn’t recognize where they were. It looked like some sort of loading doc. The lighting was shit, but he could see the names on the signs fine. They all read different numbers, which didn’t help much. They stopped in front of one of the docks with a big number six painted in blue. The driver shut off the engine, and the dock door opened. A ramp lowered to street level, and a group of guards trekked down. 

Two came around to his door and opened it. They were dragging him out before he really knew what was happening. Satoru went willingly. These weren’t the people he wanted to fight anyway, it would be pointless not to cooperate. They dragged him up the ramp, two guards ahead of them, while three others trailed behind. He expected to find a big warehouse, but the room was small and empty. Save for an industrial elevator.

His pulse spiked when one of the guards swiped their keycard, and the gate opened. He swallowed down the fear and moved forward on his own two feet. His willingness didn’t stop the guards from shoving him forward. His stomach swooped as he stepped inside the cage. I’m doing this for Riko. For her, I’ll do anything. A different guard scans his card and holds the elevator button until the gate closes and they begin their descent.

This was different from the last elevator he took with Star. This one had more of an industrial build -like one you’d find at a construction site. It didn’t make him any less nauseous. His heart was in his throat by the time the doors opened again. Through the grates, Satoru caught sight of Star before he even stepped off. Another swipe of the guard’s card and the lock system disengaged.

The guards shoved him forward again. “Ghost, I’m glad to see you’ve cooperated so far.” Her tone was cold, calm, and wickedly amused. “It makes things much more pleasant when you're a willing participant, wouldn’t you agree?” Satoru’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t rise to the bait. He wouldn’t give her any more than she needed. “Aww, nothing to say?” She raised her eyebrows, the most expression Satoru had seen from the bitch. He leveled her with a cold stare. “Well, it makes everything easier anyway to not have to deal with you whining.” She turned to start walking. “Follow me.”

Satoru found himself in a makeshift exam room. There were two people in lab coats on both sides of him. One was busy sticking an IV in his arm, the other was taking his blood pressure. “Relax your arm,” she kept telling him. He was trying, really, he was. She sighed, loud in his ear. “It’s high. They’re not going to be happy.”

“When are they ever?” The other asked -he’s had to poke Satoru four times now. Apparently, he was dehydrated. “If I can ever get this IV in, we’ll just give him some potassium.”

Someone else walked in. They also wore a lab coat, but theirs was blue, like the paint of the number six outside the dock. She didn’t say anything, just approached him -a soft smile painted on her lips. In one swift motion, the physician shot something into his neck. Satoru slapped his hand over the spot. “What the fuck?” He barked.

All three people in the room ignored him. “Let me see?” The blue lab coat lady said to the guy holding the IV. He gave her the needle, and in under a second, it was secured in Satoru’s arm. “Don’t worry about the potassium. The nanos will handle it.” Then she walked out. The other two lab coats got back to work. The one who had been trying to insert the IV took a scanner out of his pocket. He roved it over Satoru’s body. “The nanos are already working.” He murmured to the woman. 

“Already?” She grabbed the scanner from him to look for herself. She smiled, “This is crazy, the ones last night took almost two hours. The lab really outdid itself.”

The guy rolled his eyes. “Well, don’t let them hear you say it, it’ll go to their heads.”

“You’re right, it’s hard enough getting them to turn their shit in on time.”

Satoru had no idea what the fuck they were talking about, and he already knew asking was a futile endeavor. The door opened, and Satoru tried to turn his head, but it was still sore from whatever they’d injected into him. 

“We need you to retrieve something.” It was Star, of course, her voice like nails on a chalkboard to his ears. He willed himself not to flinch. 

“What is it?”

“Files. We have reason to believe that they will be stolen from one of our facilities tonight.”

Files. Classified? Most likely. “Okay. What do I need to do?”

Star held out her hand. Sat in the center of her palm was a small black disk. “You’ll wear this in your ear and follow my orders.”

Satoru stared at the disk. Follow orders -like a puppet on strings. “Will you tell me what happened to my cousin?”

The woman in front of him sighed. “I’ll have someone look into it.”

“You can’t even admit that you orchestrated it!” Satoru hissed through a clenched jaw. 

 “I know things now seem overwhelming-”

“Cut the bullshit!” Satoru interrupted. “Let’s just get this over with. I’m tired and I want to get back to my cousin as soon as possible.”

Star shrugged, “If you insist.” She laid a sleek black case next to him on the exam table.

“What’s this?”

“It’s your suit.” She tapped the case. “Put it on. The lab wants to run a few diagnostics before we send you out.” Satoru stared at the case, but didn’t move. Star gave him a sickeningly sweet smile and then left the room. His stomach twisted. He did not want to put the suit back on, but he would -he had to. Satoru would don the suit and complete this mission. He’d go and find information on him, and hopefully, if he were lucky, information on his parents too.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Suguru stepped into the clean, polished lobby of the Ryomen Tech facility. He didn’t know exactly what to expect, but a man was waiting for him. “Geto san?” The man smiled warmly.

“That’s me.” Suguru bowed. “Dr. Kaido?”

The man also bows. “Yes, it’s very nice to meet you.” His voice was crisp as winter air. “I’ll be leading the tour today.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too. Thank you for getting me in on such short notice.”

Dr. Kaido waved his hand flippantly between them. “It wasn’t a problem at all. Martin was practically singing your praises.” The man laughed, but it was hollow, at odds with his warming smile and friendly disposition. Though his eyes traveled over Suguru like he was examining a prized calf at auction.

A cold ribbon of unease wound down Suguru’s spine. “Will Mr. Li be joining us?” Suguru asked, doing his best to remain unbothered, though alarm bells were peeling in the recesses of his mind. 

“Unfortunately, not, but there are a few others who will be joining the tour. I believe you know one of the members, Susan Storm?”

Suguru nodded, uneasy crept further into his chest. Why would Sue be here? Does she know the danger this place poses? Suguru’s gut tightened. He didn’t think he’d be strong enough to get them both out of here if the tour went to the weyside. The tour shouldn’t be dangerous. Li wouldn’t have sent us both here if Ryomen Tech meant us any real harm. Right?

“Yes, I do know her from FEAST; she’s really nice, has a bright future ahead of her.” Suguru offered.

“Indeed, she does,” Dr. Kaido agreed earnestly. “You both do. Shall we join the others?”

“Of course, lead the way.”

Dr. Kaido turned, dress loafers clacking down the polished white corridor. He didn’t look back to check if Suguru followed, just assumed he would.

Suguru did.

Sue’s eyes brightened the moment she caught sight of him. “Hey! I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Suguru smiled, “I didn’t know you’d be here either. It’s a nice surprise.”

Sue leaned in, like they were sharing a secret. One hand cupping Suguru’s ear while she stood on her tiptoes to whisper, “What, are you nervous?” She teased.

He chuckled softly. “Maybe a little, less so to know I’m in the company of a friend.”

“No worries, I’ll keep you safe, big boy.”

Dr. Kaido launched into introductions. A handful of university students had been invited:
Kamo Choso, a genetics major specializing in molecular mechanisms;
Nitta Akari, aerospace engineering;
Haibara Yu, criminal justice with a focus on forensic pathology.

What knocked the wind out of Suguru wasn’t them, but the two high schoolers standing among them.
Inumaki Toge, a soft-spoken 3rd year hoping to study speech pathology.
And Itadori Yuji, a 2nd with an interest in kinesiology—familiar in a way Suguru couldn’t place.

He kept staring, certain he’d seen the kid somewhere before, even if the memory refused to come into focus. Sue elbowed Suguru’s side. “Do you know him?” She whispered.

Suguru hesitated because he wasn’t sure, then he shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

Finally, after introductions were over, Dr. Kaido led them down another corridor. The tour was about to begin, and Suguru had to get out of his head and focus on finding a way to slip away unnoticed. 

If this were a tour, it was the most controlled one he’d ever seen. Every hallway was too clean, the windows too tinted. Every single employee they passed was too perfectly neutral -eyes sliding off the group as if instructed not to look too long.

“And here,” Dr. Kaido said, gesturing with manicured fingers, “is our primary biochemical wing. We do regenerative studies, advanced viral modeling, gene sequencing-”

Suguru nodded, letting the words roll off him. He wasn’t listening -he was mapping exits, camera placements, and security checkpoints. He was calculating the risk. The group paused as the doctor unlocked one of the doors using a retinal scan. Behind it: rows of immaculate lab benches, humming incubators, sealed chambers lit in sterile blue light.

Someone from the group, Kamo, he thought, said, “Impressive.” As the group slowly walked around the room, taking everything in.

“Mhm,” Kaido tilted his head. “I understand you have an interest in molecular genetics?”

“Among other things,” Kamo responded, a bit bored.

“Oh yes.” Kaido’s lips curved. “Your university records say as much. High aptitude. High adaptability. Perfect cognitive resilience scores.” It wasn’t a compliment. It was an appraisal. Suguru felt the trap doors closing in on them.

Dr. Kaido’s phone rang, and he excused himself to take it. Suguru leaned into Sue and whispered that he needed to use the restroom -that he’d only be gone a few minutes. She was a little distracted, preoccupied with looking at the sealed chambers. Sue nodded and waved him away. Slipping out of the room was a bit too easy, he thought. That was his first mistake.

Suguru moved quickly -down one hall, then the next, tracing the building’s layout with instinct and memory. He found a maintenance stairwell, slipped inside, and descended one level, where the lighting dimmed and the air cooled. Restricted floor. Exactly where he needed to be.

He expected labs -servers -maybe storage. Instead, he found a room that smelled like metal and antiseptic. A single medical chair sat in the center -leather straps waiting like patient hands. A tray of syringes gleamed under a surgical lamp. He walked around the chair to a screen that displayed: SUBJECT RECEIVED — ▇▇▇: SUPERVISED TRIAL PREP

The door clicked shut, and he whirled to find Dr. Kaido standing in the doorway. “I appreciate your cooperation,” he said calmly. “Mr. Li insisted you’d be the ideal candidate.”

Suguru’s blood ran ice cold. “Candidate for what?”

“Adaptation trials.” He smiled gently. “I was instructed not to say more until after sedation. But trust me -this is for a very promising future.”

He took a step back, knocking into one of the trays. “I didn’t agree to this.”

“Sure you did.” Dr. Kaido stepped forward. “You signed the visitor’s release.”

“That…” He shook his head. “That was for a tour.” His insider churned, hot bile rising up his throat. Martin wouldn’t do this to me. He wouldn’t. He wanted to help.

Dr. Kaido’s head tilted to the side. “Was it? Did you read it, Geto san?” He took another step forward, Suguru matched it, taking another step back. Dr. Kaido shook his head. “You were never here for a tour.” Two guards appeared behind him, flanking the door. That was mistake number two -thinking he’d get a clean exit.

Suguru’s breathing slowed -focus sharpened. He wasn’t going down on a cold metal chair. Not tonight. He calculated distance, angles, momentum -his body acting before the fear could anchor him. He bolted through the side equipment cart -managing to grab a syringe before he sent the cart knocking into one of the guards. Both guard and cart crashed to the floor, sending metal tools across the pristine floor. Dr. Kaido took a startled step back. Suguru shoulder checked the other guard, hard enough for the guy to knock against the wall. 

Then Suguru lunged for Dr. Kaido, sticking the syringe deep into his neck and pushing down on the plunger. Kaido struggled for just a moment before all fight fled from his body. Suguru clambered to his feet. He needed to move now. He could hear the alarm. They didn’t scream, just whispered a soft internal chime signaling a breach. Silent. Dangerous.

Suguru threw his bag on the floor. Quickly, with practiced fingers, he applied the feature replicator to his face. He had to steady his breathing so he could focus on the face. He didn’t have the luxury of time. He felt his skin tingle, and that was enough. He stole Kaido’s lab coat, dug the forged badge out of his bag, and fled the scene.

He reached a locked lab door and, in desperation, swiped the forged badge he’d created. A green light -the door unlocked. Suguru exhaled shakily and slipped inside. Rows of servers hummed -steady, low, and powerful. He approached the terminal and logged in using the tech’s stolen credentials. His fingers flew across the keyboard -muscle memory from the illicit hacking forums he hung around in high school, the ones he pretended to be above -boasting some bullshit higher moral code. When it came to this -keeping Satoru safe, Suguru didn’t give a fuck about moral code.

Search: GOJO

Enter.

Files containing keyword: “GOJO”

Results: 3,728 matches

Files bloomed across the screen.

Top Results:

SIX EYES — PROJECT ORIGIN

SIX EYES — SUBJECT ZERO

SIX EYES — GENETIC CANDIDATES

SIX EYES — INCIDENT 17: ARA-CHN CROSSOVER FAILURE

SIX EYES — COLLATERAL REPORT (GOJO, S.)

His breath caught in his throat. Satoru’s name, not even hidden behind a codename. Suguru’s heart thrashed violently against his ribs, but his hands remained steady -surgical in their focus. He plugged in his USB. He cracked the encryption in 30 seconds -hid his tracks in 20 -spoofed the system logs in 10. Suguru copied the entire directory in under a minute.

When the progress bar hit 100%, the facility lights flickered. That wasn’t normal -power was being rerouted. Someone had noticed him after all. He pocketed the drive as the power surged again. His pulse hammered in his throat. He needed to get out, but he was just staring at the line of text burned into the screen.

SIX EYES — SUBJECT CLASSIFICATION: UNPARALLELED — PHASE II DIRECTIVE: ACTIVATION.

 Suguru’s stomach turned. This wasn’t about green energy. This wasn’t about public tech innovation. This was about weaponization. This was about Satoru. The hum of security drones, somewhere deeper in the facility, broke his train of thought. He had to get out now.

Suguru slipped out of the room and sprinted down the stairwell, breathing hard, and trying to listen for footsteps behind him. He didn’t hear any -he heard something much worse. Mechanical doors unlocking, gates hissing open. A voice echoed faintly through the corridor speakers -not directed at him, but at someone else.

“Ghost. Proceed to sublevel three.”

Ghost. Like… Satoru’s stage name at the fight club? He wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near this building. Fear sliced clean through him. Suguru picked up the pace, his lungs burning as he turned the corner. He collided hard with a figure descending from the ceiling. It looked like a shadow taking corporeal form. The figure was tall and wore a mask -sleek, predatory curve of chrome and matte black. Two sharp geometric lenses glowed faintly—like a predator’s eyes reflecting moonlight. Their suit glowed, too, with blue-laced circuitry.

Ghost. Satoru. Suguru recognized him instantly, even with all his features and mannerisms scrubbed away. His heart jolted. No. Not here. Not now. Suguru would rather be splayed on the metal exam table -he didn’t want this, didn’t want them pitted against each other. Ghost stepped towards him. For a moment, Suguru believed Satoru recognized him, too. He was wrong. 

Ghost tilted his head once, like an animal assessing a threat. The way he stood -loose but coiled- told Suguru instantly that he did not recognize him. Suguru put out a hand, “Hey,” he tried, slowly raising his other hand, too. “I’m not here to fight you.” His voice sounded foreign to his own ears. Satoru didn’t recognize him. He couldn’t.

He didn’t respond, only stepped forward, stance shifting as he went. Ghost was silent, but the mask made his breathing sound amplified and mechanical. Suguru felt every instinct in his body scream at him to run, but he planted his feet firmly across from the masked figure. “Satoru,” he attempted again, softer this time. “It’s me.” Nothing- no flicker of recognition. The visor only reflected his own pale, terrified face back at him.

Ghost lunged at him -circled his hands around Suguru’s neck and squeezed. They fell to the floor in a heap of limbs. Satoru climbed atop him, bracketing Suguru’s hips with his knees. He pressed him further into the tiles, grip tightening. Ghost’s strength was a monstrous thing -inhuman. Suguru clawed at his wrists. “Satoru!” He gasped. “Stop! I’m not your enemy!”

Satoru wasn’t listening -wasn’t hearing. Mustering up the last dregs of strength, Suguru turned violently, throwing him off. He scrambled back until his back hit the wall. Ghost swung at him, his hands moving faster than the human eye could perceive. Suguru barely dodged. Ghost’s fist landed in the reinforced wall and stuck there. He tried to pull away, but the wall wouldn’t give.

Ghost put his foot on the wall and pulled until his hand was freed. The wall caved in on itself -revealing pipes and ductwork. Suguru was terrified, frozen to the spot, and utterly incapable of moving. Ghost turned his attention back on him. “Satoru, wait!” He pulled the replicator from his face. “It’s me, stop!” Ghost didn’t. He walked towards him again -calm, cool, and collected. 

There was something heavy in the pocket of the lab coat he’d stolen. Suguru pulled it out. It looked like a taser. Ghost stepped closer; the distance was closing, and Suguru was running out of options. “Toru,” he gasped, lining up his shot. I’ll immobilize him. I’ll drag both of us out of hell. We’ll leave here together and alive and figure out the rest later. Together. “I’m sorry.” He pulled the trigger. 

 A burst of static ripped through the air -sharp, shrill, like metal screaming. Ghost staggered mid-stride, suit flickering. His lenses flickered out. He crashed to one knee, hand braced on the floor, the other clutching at his mask.

Silence filled the empty stairwell -the hum of the suit died. Satoru’s breath -not mechanical, but human -broke through the quiet in short, panicked gasps. Suguru’s heart cracked at the sound of it.

Slowly, Ghost’s head lifted. The lenses were dead -dark glass now. For the first time, Suguru saw nothing reflected back at him -just the faint shape of Satoru’s eyes behind the mask, wild and disoriented. Suguru got to his hands and knees and inched forward. Satoru flinched away from Suguru’s approach.

“Hey. Hey, it’s okay,” Suguru said, sitting on his knees in front of him, ignoring the burning pain in his throat. “You’re okay. I won’t hurt you.”

Ghost -Satoru- shook his head. His voice rasped through the damaged modulator, distorted and small. “Don’t… touch me.” The words held no bite, but they sliced through Suguru’s defences all the same.

He wanted to answer -to say his name again, to pull him into his -but alarms suddenly blared overhead. Doors seal-locked automatically, red lights flashing across the corridor. They were out of time.

Suguru swallowed, forcing his voice steady. “We have to move. Now. If they find us- find you-.”

Satoru’s breathing hitched, panicked, but he nodded. Barely. Suguru reached out for him again, and this time, Satoru didn’t pull away. Thank God for small mercies. Satoru whispered, small, broken, “Ru… I can’t feel myself.”

Suguru closed his eyes. His heart squeezed tight in his chest as his breathing shuddered. For a brief moment, the world sharpened to one point: Satoru trembling in front of him. Suguru cupped the sides of Satoru’s face through the mask.

“Listen to me.” Suguru’s throat tightened as he forced himself to meet the empty lenses boring into him. “Whatever they’ve done- it doesn’t define you.” He murmured. Suguru leaned his forehead against Satoru’s. “Know that whatever they’ve started here, I’m ending it. I’m going to raze this whole fucking place to the ground.”

The lights in the starwell flashed red. Suguru got to his feet first, then helped Satoru up. He steadied him with a hand draped across his waist. “This way, stay with me.”

Satoru nodded and leaned against him. They disappeared deeper into the facility.

Chapter Text

Monday October 12th

(Directly after Suguru slipped away)

Sue noticed the shift a couple of moments after Geto had excused himself from the group. She couldn’t explain it exactly -just a dart of instinctual discomfort. A sort of prickling at the back of her neck that whispered: something isn’t right. Geto had walked away with purpose; it hadn’t seemed that he just needed to use the restroom. Before Sue could think to follow, to make sure he was okay, Dr. Kaido had stepped neatly into the open space Geto had left behind. He smiled at them all with a strange, brittle brightness.

“Let’s continue,” Kaido said. “There’s still much to see.” Then he turned, waved them all forward, and the door to the hallway Suguru had slipped into sealed shut behind him with a soft metallic shk-. Sue swallowed hard and followed the others.

The deeper they went, the more off-putting and unsettling everything began to feel. At first, the tour had the sheen of every high-tech facility she’d seen online - sleek chrome walls, soft mechanical hums, and glass panels that flickered with holographic displays. But the moment they passed the first checkpoint, the lighting changed subtly. The halls around them grew narrower. -the air in her lungs grew cold and stale. The sterile brightness of Ryomen Tech gave way to something pale and subterranean. Something continued to nag at her. Geto had yet to return to the group, and Dr. Kaido seemed not to notice. That worried Sue. Ryomen Tech wasn't the kind of place that people wandered off unnoticed. It was the kind of place that made people disappear. Doubt and dread swirled like a vortex in the pit of her stomach.

Sue kept glancing toward Dr. Kaido -steps purposeful, unhurried, unfaltering -and the students trailing behind him. Itadori was wide-eyed and enthusiastic as always, still trying to make conversation to fill the domineering silence. Kamo looked to be one wrong breath away from tucking tail and leaving -Sue was starting to feel the same. Inumaki proddled along silently, hands in pocket, gaze flicking toward the walls like he was reading something Sue couldn’t see. Nitta was taking mental notes; Sue could see the movements of her eyes, razor sharp and data-hungry. Haibara -poor kid -kept giving Sue increasingly nervous looks.

Dr. Kaido finally came to a stop in front of a reinforced steel door. A sign beside it read: 073 Project Wing M. Sue’s stomach plummeted. “This is where we’ll begin our hands-on assessment.” The doctor said, smiling far too pleasantly. Kamo crowded into Itadori's space, now looking more ready to brawl than to run. Sue's pulse jumped in her throat. “Please, step inside. You’ll each receive individualized tasks based on your field of study.”

“Assessment?” Sue echoed. “I thought this was just a tour?”

Kaido didn’t answer. He pressed his palm to the scanner, and the door hissed open. “Ryomen Tech believes in experiential learning,” he said lightly. “This is an opportunity tailored for each of you. Your participation today has been highly anticipated.” The words hit hard. Haibara scooted closer to Sue. The kid was scared, so was she.

Itadori laughed nervously. “Ha-ha… like a workshop? Or…?” Kamo put an arm out to stop him from stepping forward.

“Precisely,” Kaido said, gesturing them into the room.

Sue instantly noticed the four guards standing inside. No lab coat, no identifying badges that she could see. They wore full armor, some kind of high-tech batons on their hips, and their faces were expressionless. This wasn't a suggestion. They'd be forced if they did not comply. Her pulse picked up again; she could feel it in her temple. Okay, something is seriously wrong. This wasn’t a tour, not really. This wasn't an exhibition. The room looked like a preparation chamber. The scene unfolded in her mind. It took all her willpower not to react. They weren't invited here simply to watch experimental trials. They were about to become the experiments. 

Chairs with restraints were tucked discreetly into the sides of the large room. Observation glassthat was much too thick for a simple academic demo. Monitors filled the walls with vitals that didn’t belong to any of them -real-time readouts of someone else’s body. Above the monitors was a line of text that read: CURRENT SUBJECT — OBSERVATION DEFERRED NEW SUBJECTS PENDING

Geto. Sue’s stomach sank. Shit. She stopped dead in her tracks. Kaido turned -his brittle smile stretching further across his face, showing all of his teeth. It was unsettling. Fear flooded the room like a physical force, rippling through all of the participants. “Please, take a seat,” he said. “The sooner we begin the intake, the sooner you’ll see what makes Ryomen Tech so exceptional.” Intake. Right. Not good.

Haibara froze beside her, hand curling around her wrist. "What's happening...?”

Just then, Inumaki lifted a hand and signed something sharply. Kaido’s smile faltered for just a moment. Nitta stepped forward, brows knitting. “Dr. Kaido, with all due respect, this doesn’t match the itinerary you gave the university liaison. We weren't informed about any tests.”

Kaido blinked slowly, like he was bored. As if this line of questioning and level of defiance were unexpected. “You’ll be compensated,” he said. “And you’ll be safe. So long as you cooperate.”

Itadori moved instinctively in front of Nitta. Putting himself between her and the guards. "This is absurd. None of us agreed to this." Kamo stepped in front of Itadori, puffing out his chest. From the side, Inumaki’s fingers twitched in warning.

Sue’s heart pounded so loudly in her chest that she could hardly hear what Kaido said next. “The success of Project Wing E depends on your compliance. You were all selected with a purpose in mind. You should be proud of yourselves. Proud that you've been chosen to make history with us.”

Project Wing E. Selected. Proud. Sue took a shaky step back -every instinct crying out for her to run, but the moment she moved, two of the guards saddled up beside her and Haibara. Kaido took notice. “Sue,” he said warmly, using her name like bait on a hook. “Your expertise is particularly valuable to this project. Your insights will contribute to something revolutionary.”

“I didn’t agree to this,” the words punched out of her. She was on the brink of tears. Her future was elsewhere. It wouldn't be dictated by these creeps.

“I’m afraid you have. All of the visitor consent forms were signed at the time of your arrival.”

Sue’s blood turned to ice in her veins. The clipboards at check-in. The too quick signatures. The fine print Sue didn’t have time to read as the staff rushed them all through the packets of consent forms and legalese, leaving no room for questions or objections. Haibara offered his hand. She accepted it and squeezed it tight. His body trembled beside hers as the guards continued to flank them. "This is bullshit, you won't get away with this!" Itadori shouted. The guards seized him first.

"Don't fucking touch him!" Kamo pounced at the guards, but there were already more there to swarm in. They apprehended him before he had the chance to lay a single finger on their fellows. The guards herded them into the prep chamber like ranchers do cattle.

The lights above snapped on -bright and blinding. The room sealed shut as Dr. Kaido’s watch beeped with an alert. He smiled down at it as he read. “It seems our final participant has been located. I’ll be right back.” Kaido sauntered out of the room as orderlies stepped forward from invisible entrances -one for each of them. The group of them grabbed hold of their corresponding student and began moving them towards their seats. 

Sue barely registered what was happening around her. We were never here for a tour. I will never see Johnny again. My future has been decided for me… I’ll never see home again… I was so close. Tears fell down her cheeks; she did nothing to stop them. Her heart hammered against her chest as she was strapped down. Geto must have known something was wrong. That’s why he slipped away. There was still something to hope for. He wouldn't leave them here. She hadn't known him for long, but Sue believed he was a good person, someone who helped others. She had to believe. Had to give herself hope that there was still some way out of this nightmare.

Sue made a promise to herself as the orderly prepared a syringe beside her. Come what may, they will not break me. I will see Johnny again. I'll make things right. I will get out of here. They will not break me.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Suguru burst through a set of doors that led out to the employee parking area. Satoru was draped over his back piggyback style. It was raining again, which was both a good and a bad thing. The rain provided decent cover, but the material of Satoru's suit made it nearly impossible to hold on to it in the downpour. Suguru had to keep readjusting him, but the suit was slick, and he was already fighting off exhaustion. Satoru was babbling in fragmented delirium directly in his ear. The nonsense made it hard for him to concentrate on formulating a plan.

The moment the cold night air hit Suguru’s lungs, he realized Satoru was slipping away. He could hear Satoru’s stuttered breathing in short, shallow bursts against the shell of his ear. Suguru tightened his grip on Satoru’s legs and led them both into the shadows beyond Ryomen Tech. The lights behind them went dark, and the guards were nowhere to be found. The building had gone radio silent in a way that made Suguru’s stomach twist. They'll be on high alert. It was going to be a solid challenge to break back inside, but Suguru needed to go back for Sue and the others. He couldn't stomach the idea of leaving them behind.

Ryomen Tech had shut the place down completely. Because Suguru had stolen from them, because Satoru had escaped. Satoru moved against him like he wanted down, but Suguru did his best to keep hold of him. “Stop squirming. Your suit is slick, and I'm having a hell of a time trying not to drop you,” Suguru huffed. He stumbled forward a little as Satoru fought against him. He was doing his best not to snap at him. Question upon question threatened to spill beyond his teeth as they tumbled through his mind, but Satoru had already been through enough tonight. He didn't need Suguru's misdirected anger aimed at him as well.

“Hospital,” Satoru whispered hoarsely. “Shoko- Shoko’s waiting. Riko- she… She’s…” Suguru stopped by a utility pole and carefully set Satoru on the ground. Once seated, Satoru pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face there. Suguru kneeled beside him.

“Toru, listen to me.” Satoru didn’t acknowledge him. He tucked his knees in closer to his chest and covered his ears with his hands. Suguru gently grabbed his wrists and pulled them away. “We need to get this mask off. Do you know how?”

Satoru shook him off and started clawing at the mask. He was babbling incoherently still. Suguru took a deep breath. Collecting his composure piece by piece. Biting down on the swirling anger, he tried again. “Hey, Satoru, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you… You’re safe now.” His voice broke. It was a false promise. They were as far away from safe as they could be in the present moment. “I’ve got you, baby. Please… Just let me help you.” He needed to reach him. Needed Satoru whole for his own sanity and both of their safety.

The masked boy whimpered a quiet, fractured sound- and covered his face again. Suguru was losing him. He was getting nowhere fast with Satoru. Frustration flared bright white and scolding. Still, Suguru chose to be gentle. He took a deep breath to steady himself. He cupped Satoru's face, but the boy didn’t look up. “Satoru, look at me,” Suguru commanded softly. When Satoru didn’t respond, Suguru pressed his forehead to his temple, trying to ground him with warmth and contact. “You’re safe. We’re out. You’re safe.” Suguru didn't believe the words. He didn't know how to make Satoru believe them either.

He wasn’t reaching him, and he needed to. They needed to move now. They'd run out of time. “We need to find a safer place to rest,” Suguru murmured. “Just for tonight. You’re hurt, and you’re not making sense. Sweetheart, I need your help. There are still people trapped in there, but I need to get you sorted first.” That was an understatement. Satoru’s words dissolved further into fragments.

“Riko- she- Riko needs me. Riko- Suguru, I can’t- I can’t-” Satoru broke down into hiccupy sobs.

“I know,” Suguru whispered. “I know, but we have to make a call first.”

Satoru stiffly nodded. Suguru pulled them both up to their feet before dragging Satoru behind him to a nearby convenience store. He pulled Satoru under the awning and scanned the street for people. There was no one around them. The city felt unnervingly empty, as if someone had pulled Tokyo’s off switch - or had placed them under a dome.

Satoru violently jerked free of his grasp. “No.” He paced and shook his head hard. “No! You’re not leaving me. Not going back in there alone. Not- not again- Suguru, please!” He gasped, the sharp breath cutting off his words. “I can’t lose-” Satoru broke. He hunched over like he'd been dealt a physical blow. He leaned into the side of the awning for support.

Suguru watched the panic crest like a wave -breath hitching, hands shaking so violently the metal siding behind them rattled. For a moment, the only sounds to be heard were Satoru's ragged breathing and rain pattering around them. Suguru fought an internal battle. He couldn't leave Satoru like this. Who knew what awaited him back at Ryomen Tech. Going back now would be a suicide mission. The choice was made then. He prayed he wouldn't live to regret it. “Toru, hey-hey, look at me,” Suguru said, grabbing the other boy’s face between his hands. “I’m not leaving you. I swear it. I’m staying right here, all right?”

Behind the lenses of the mask, Satoru’s wild, frantic eyes finally met his. “Okay?” Suguru murmured. “We’ll go back in together. Just not tonight. We need help first.” He looked around until he spotted a payphone near a bus stop. Perfect. Harder to trace. Suguru half-guided, half-carried Satoru over to the phone. 

Once there, Suguru lifted the pay phone, punched in Shoko’s number, and pressed the receiver to Satoru’s chest. “Talk to her,” he whispered. Satoru blinked, disoriented. The line clicked.

“Hello?” Shoko’s voice.

Suguru watched carefully as the relief cracked something inside of Satoru; he nearly sobbed. “Shoko,” he breathed out, voice still lightly distorted from the broken modulator. “Shoko?” Suguru gently steadied him while he spoke. He couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but Satoru was nodding and handing him back the receiver.

Shoko's voice crackled over the line. “I know now is not the time, but I expect an explanation. Keep each other safe.” Shoko demanded in his ear.

“We will, I promise.”

Shoko promised she’d stay with Riko -that she wasn’t going anywhere. Satoru didn’t have to come back tonight -she’d take care of her.

When the call ended, Suguru dialed the number of a man he hadn’t thought of in years. On the third ring, he answered. “Hello?”

Suguru nearly cried from relief. “Dr. Octavius? This is Geto Suguru.”

“Ah, Suguru. I’d heard that you were back making a ruckus here in Japan. What can I do ya for?”

“I’m so sorry… but I really need your help.”

A beat of silence. Then: “Come to the old workshop.” The line went dead. Suguru hung the phone back on its stand.

He turned back to Satoru, “I got us a place.” Satoru nodded, dizzy and hollow. He tilted to the side, and Suguru caught him by the elbow. "I've got you." Satoru said nothing, just tucked in closer, wrapping both hands around Suguru's arm. He led them further into the city so he could hail a cab for them. While they waited, Suguru disabled his location tracking on his phone and ditched the SIM card. He dug out a black hoodie from his bag and helped Satoru put it on. He re-enabled the feature replicator on his own face and pulled the hood up around Satoru’s masked face.

Suguru kept glancing back in the direction of Ryomen Tech, though now they were far enough that it was only a silhouette in the sky. His stomach twisted as he thought of the remaining people inside -of Sue and that familiar-looking kid. He wanted to go back in to help them, but going back now only spelled disaster and premature death. Suguru didn’t want that. They’d made it out; now they just needed to get the fuck away so they could plan to strike back. He had to hope that the others were in no real danger. Though he didn't think Ryomen Tech would let them go so easily after two subjects had already broken out. Ig there had been no plans to use them before Suguru snuck away, he imagined Kaido would use the group now. Either as simple bait or worse... replacements. Suguru shuddered and pushed the thought far from his mind, not wanting to conjure all of the heinous acts the others could be suffering in his stead. He felt like a coward for it, but there was nothing he could do for them now without help.

When the driver arrived, staring at them with raised eyebrows, Suguru shrugged and said, “Early Halloween party. My buddy got trashed.”

“Your buddy looks dead.” The cab driver commented and then asked where they were going. Suguru gave him the name of a street two blocks away from the old workshop. Satoru leaned against Suguru’s shoulder the entire drive; his breathing remained wet and shallow-sounding. Suguru ran his hand down Satoru’s arm and pulled him in as close as the seatbelts would allow. He whispered reassurances under his breath, but Satoru never calmed - his chest rising too fast, his fingers twitching - but thankfully, he stayed awake and seemingly aware.

When they arrived, Suguru thanked the driver and paid him in cash. He idly wondered if he should've given the driver a tip, if it would keep the guy quiet about them if he were ever questioned. Suguru shook his head free of the thought. Such a gesture would've been out of place and drawn more attention to them. They limped towards their temporary safe house -a cramped old research loft above an abandoned robotics lab. Satoru looked ready to collapse. Suguru had to drag him up the stairs. As they approached the door, Suguru heard a buzz, followed by the sound of hydraulic locks disengaging. When he tried the door, it swung open for them.

Suguru set Satoru carefully on the dusty old couch. He locked the front door before proceeding around the indoor perimeter of the room to check all of the windows and close the blinds. Satoru was mumbling to himself from where he remained hunched over on the couch. Suguru took a moment to collect himself. God, I need a fucking cigarette.

He ran his hands through his hair as he surveyed their surroundings. The loft was cramped, but cozy. Suguru could imagine staying here under different circumstances -like a nice weekend trip when their lives weren’t in peril. Dust danced around them, blanketing everything in thick gray sheets. Suguru ran a finger along the lone work table and grimaced slightly at the feeling of grime. There was the old couch where Satoru sat. In front of it was an old coffee table that sat low to the ground. There was a cramped kitchenette with a portable island counter with two backless barstools. Three doors: The front entrance, one leading down to the abandoned robotics lab, and the third that opened to a compact bedroom. The bathroom was housed there. The space occupied by the work table was bordered by dusty bookcases.

Peppering the workspace was an array of abandoned prototypes and blueprints. The bookcase nearest the work table held rows upon rows of sketchbooks and journals. Suguru fought the urge to pull one down and thumb through it. A faded yellow Post-it caught his eye, though, distracting him. He plucked it off the shelf to read: I can help you… But you must choose carefully who to trust next. -Dr. O

Suguru’s stomach sank, but he recovered quickly, pocketing the note. They’d talk later. A longing hit him square in his chest. He wanted his father, suddenly- wanted to tell him he was sorry he couldn’t keep his promise. Knowing now, with no more room for doubt, that Ryomen Tech wanted Satoru, there was no possible way Suguru could disentangle himself from their web. He wouldn’t leave Satoru to face this beast alone. Even if that meant leaving his father alone, no longer a husband nor a father.

The thought of it alone was enough to tear Suguru to shreds, but his resolve had been set. His choice would always be Satoru -in every aspect, in every life, he would choose Satoru again and again. Even if it killed him, so long as Satoru lived, Suguru would find him  -stand by him -protect him. Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his tear ducts at bay. He really needed that cigarette.

Satoru stood from the couch and took a tentative step forward. He nearly collapsed, but Suguru was already there. He pulled Satoru against his chest, and Satoru dropped his head against Suguru’s shoulder. “I- You need to tell me. Everything.” Satoru’s voice was hoarse and urgent. His whole body trembled in Suguru’s grasp. 

“We need to get that suit off you. It’s probably bugged to hell.”

Satoru shook his head and began clawing at the mask again. “I need to know!” Satoru shouted, his voice breaking through the broken modulator.

“Toru, I know, but we need to make sure we're safe first,” Suguru said calmly, bringing one gentle hand up to grab hold of Satoru’s wrists. “We’re not safe if they can track us through it.”

Satoru shook his head sharply back and forth, but after a moment, he relented. “I don’t know how.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” Suguru pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of the mask. 

Satoru slightly shuddered beneath it, but then he relaxed into Suguru. He nodded. “Together.”

Suguru carefully spun him around so he could get a better look at the back. “I don’t see a zipper.”

Satoru took a deep breath. “I think there’s a latch at the nape.” The sound of the modulator was unnerving. Suguru was ready to be rid of it so he could hear Satoru's real voice. He needed that more than he needed a smoke.

Suguru felt around his nape until he hit something that felt kinda like a button. The mask retracted like a membrane being ripped open. Satoru gasped as the suit retreated farther down to his collarbones, then his bare chest. It stopped at his hips. Suguru could've cried from relief. He cupped Satoru's face gingerly and pecked his temple. Lips to skin, no barrier. No fucking suit. “Wait right here, I’m going to look for a change of clothes.”

Satoru grabbed his wrist -fingers biting into flesh. “Don’t.” His voice- his real voice- broke on the word. He tried again. “Don’t leave me alone… Please.”

“Okay… Okay, Toru, I won’t.” They walked hand in hand to the back bedroom. Like everything else in the loft, the room was caked in years of dust. There was an old dresser in the corner covered by a sheet. Suguru walked over, Satoru close on his heels. He removed the sheet and opened the top drawer. It made an awful scraping sound that sent Satoru jumping towards him. The other boy clung to Suguru as he rifled around looking for a suitable outfit. The clothes inside were moth-eaten, but they would do. He presented Satoru with a plain shirt that might’ve been white at some point, but had yellowed with age. He also gave him an old pair of joggers.

Satoru held the clothes close to his chest and stared at Suguru like he didn’t know what to do. He asked -almost whispered- “Help me?” Suguru nodded his head, at a loss for words. Satoru's body had changed, his physiology, all from the bite in such a small span of time. Even from when he'd dropped his towel last week, when they stood awkwardly in Satoru's bedroom. Where once he was just gangly and long limbed, now he had muscles corded throughout. Suguru had always found Satoru attractive- but this was on another level. He ran a shaky finger over Satoru's exposed collarbone.  A shudder ran through the otherand Suguru watched as Satoru's eyes closed and slowly fluttered back open. "Okay?" Satoru shook his head, leading Suguru to drop his hand, thinking he had misread the situation. Both their faces flushed with embarrassment.

But Satoru shook his head again. "No, I meant," his free hand came up to cup Suguru's face. "I just want to see you." Suguru remembered then: He was still wearing the feature replicator.

"Just under the chin," Suguru's voice sounded barely above a whisper. Satoru carefully hooked his index under the device and pulled it free. It fell to the floor forgotten. Satoru smiled timidly, not a real smile, but it was an invitation nevertheless. "Okay." Suguru nodded to himself and swallowed. "Your turn." He slowly walked around Satoru, running a hand along the other's chest, arm, then down his back. Satoru shivered again. "Alright?"

"Yeah... better than- it's great. Good." Suguru smiled and knelt behind him. His hands hesitantly landed on his hips. Right where the suit gave way to skin. Suguru took a deep breath and blew it out slowly through his nose, causing Satoru to flinch. They both murmured an apology. Suguru tried to get his fingers between the suit and Satoru’s skin so he could pull it down, but it was stubborn. It was as if the suit was suctioned to Satoru’s skin, like it had molded to him -becoming a part of him. Satoru shivered when Suguru’s thumb grazed the curve of his hip. Suguru murmured another apology. “Just get it off, please,” Satoru said, breath hitched and barely audible.

“I know, I’m trying,” Suguru assured him softly. His index hit another button-like notch, and the material loosened. Satoru gasped again, and because Suguru couldn’t help himself, he leaned in to press a chaste kiss to Satoru’s hipbone. “There we go, almost there.” Suguru guided the suit the rest of the way down to Satoru’s ankles, peppering kisses and encouragement as he went. 

Satoru turned so he could place his hands on Suguru’s shoulders to support himself while he stepped out of the torture device. Suguru held out the borrowed pants so Satoru could easily step into them. His hands didn’t move from Suguru’s shoulders, so he pulled the pants up for him. Suguru stood to his full height. They stood eye to eye now. Satoru swallowed hard, but didn’t break their gaze. Instead, his face inched towards Suguru’s. 

It was insane. Honestly, he was crazy; they both were. They’d escaped death by a hair. And now? They were standing pressed up against each other, lips inching closer. Satoru was only half dressed, and Suguru still wore Kaido’s stolen lab coat for God’s sake. But it was right. Suguru knew the moment Satoru’s hesitant lips met his. He knew when Satoru gasped softly when Suguru nipped at his bottom lip. It was right when Satoru, emboldened by what he’d faced that night, pushed Suguru down on the bed. Felt better when Suguru flipped them so he was on top. Dust fanned out around them, and Satoru smiled for the first time since the previous night. 

It was perfect when Satoru reached up to twirl a strand of Suguru’s hair around his finger. Better still, when Suguru ran a thumb over the other’s cheekbone. “I never thought we’d be allowed this -that I would be.” Suguru choked out. Now he was the one crying.

Satoru used his free hand to wipe away the tears. His movement was still a little uncoordinated. “I thought I was going to die in that suit. I feel-” Satoru bit his lip, stopping his own words.

Suguru swallowed. “You feel what?” He whispered.

Satoru tugged him down by the strand of hair. He’d curled it around his hand -clinging tightly to it -to him. “I feel like this isn’t real. That I’ll wake up and it’ll be that woman’s face above me instead of yours.”

Suguru kissed him. It was soft and gentle. He murmured against Satoru’s lips, “She can’t hurt you here.” Satoru squeezed his eyelids tight. Suguru kissed his pale lashes. He kissed his nose, kissed his mouth again -slow and methodical. His mind spun uselessly, trying to think of what to say next. To speak the words aloud that would convince Satoru that he was indeed safe, the right string of words to convince himself.

Satoru nipped at him as he tried to pull away. He wasn’t going far. Just needed to catch his breath. “I don’t want you going back in there,” Satoru said firmly. It nearly broke the moment, but his face softened again when he asked, “Why were you even there?”

Suguru sighed and readjusted, so he was on his side -curled around Satoru rather than on top of him. He propped his head up with his arms. Satoru mirrored him. They were still close -still touching. Knees and chests, and Satoru still had ahold of the one strand of Suguru’s hair. Like it was his lifeline, his anchor back to reality. “I wanted information. It-” Suguru shook his head -still grasping for the words. “It wasn’t supposed to go like that. I was told it was just a tour.” 

Satoru’s mouth opened, but no words fell out. He snapped it shut, and Suguru flinched when he heard his teeth knock together. Then, he flinched again because Satoru tugged hard on his hair. “And you believed them?”

“No,” Suguru said indignantly. “But I believed the person who got me into the tour.”

Disbelieving, Satoru shook his head. “Okay. We tell each other everything.” He jabbed a finger at Suguru’s sternum. “You go first. I already told you most of my shit last night.”

“Yeah, well, clearly not all of it.” Suguru scoffed and sat up, forgetting Satoru still held his hair. He was immediately pulled back down. 

“I didn’t want to involve you!” Satoru shouted. “And clearly you knew a lot more than just something being a little off with me,” Satoru argued his point.

“Yeah, I think this one is on me.” Suguru knocked their foreheads together. “I didn’t want to get you involved either. I had no idea you’d be there tonight.” He said, his tone soft and apologetic. “But I’m glad I was there, to pull you out of the fog.”

Satoru winced, and his face scrunched up. “I wish it hadn’t been you… I could’ve killed you.” Satoru’s breath caught in his throat. He ran a feather-light finger over Suguru's neck, over the bruises encircling it. In his eyes, Suguru saw his own fear reflected.

His gut twisted. “Could you really not tell that it was me?”

Satoru shook his head. “In the suit, all I could see were thermal readings and vitals. All I knew was that I had to stop you. And that you were scared.”

“Did-” Suguru’s tongue felt thick in his mouth. “Could you hear me?”

The other boy chewed on his bottom lip. “I don’t know.” He closed his eyes again and turned on his back. “I remember Star’s voice and the sound of your heart beating in my ear.” Satoru was quiet for a moment. Suguru could tell from the furrow in his brow that he was working something out. “I think that’s why you were able to knock me off so easily. I think subconsciously, I knew it was you from your heartbeat.”

Suguru took a deep breath. “So it wasn’t until I stunned you that you fully came back to yourself.”

“I- Probably? I don’t remember. I think that device was meant to disable the suit, but it felt like…” Satoru shook his head again.

Suguru grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed. “Tell me. Please.”

“It felt like I was powered down, too. Like… Like,” Satoru finally let go of Suguru’s hair so he could pull at his own with both hands. “All the polished bits of me were trapped just under the surface. My skin burned, my ears rang, I couldn’t see anything when the suit went down.” His breathing hitched. “It was like my heartbeat was synced with the suit.” Satoru rubbed absently at his chest. “When it powered down… Part of me went with it.” He whispered.

Suguru pulled Satoru to him. The boy went willingly, teary-eyed and shaking. Suguru hugged him tightly, running a hand down his back. “No, no, it didn’t. You’re still you. Still the same Toru.” My Toru, he didn't add.

Satoru swallowed. He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded once. “Tell me more. We need to know everything, put our heads together.”

He knew Satoru was trying to change the subject. Suguru wanted to push him, but he was so fragile right now. “Okay, yeah. We gotta have a united front.” So Suguru told him everything. How he wanted to start his own institute, but realized too quickly that he’d have to adjust his dreams. Suguru explained his first meeting with Martin Li, how he had an uncanny way of making Suguru feel at ease. He told him about Star reaching -about his father’s warning against it. How he then contact Star, anyway, and they invited him to the fight club.

“You saw me fight?” Satoru asked.

Suguru squeezed his eyes tight as he remembered the way the Butcher had nearly suffocated Satoru in the ring. It made his own neck sore from where Ghost had nearly done the same thing to him. “Yeah,” he rasped out. “It was awful having to watch.” He explained the death of the guard and his escape.

“You are a Godsend,” Satoru said in awe and leaned forward to kiss Suguru’s temple. “Fushiguro might’ve actually killed me had you not cut the power.” He kissed Suguru’s other temple. “You’ve saved me twice then.”

Suguru allowed himself a small smile, though his heart ached. Why does being needed by him hurt so much? “Yeah… I guess so.” He carried on with his tale. He glossed over the other guard's death; he didn’t, he couldn't stomach Satoru’s reaction. It wasn’t crucial anyway; it was just a burden he had to learn to carry. 

He explained how he hacked into the Ryomen Tech employee access portal and lifted credentials after Li secured him the tour. “I thought he just wanted to help my career. I didn’t realize he was in bed with them.”

Satoru squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry he betrayed your trust.”

Suguru sniffed; his nose had started running. “It’s fine, I guess I was betraying him, too.”

“I can’t believe you hacked into their website.”

He shrugged. “Not well enough if they knew I did it.” He pressed on, finally getting to the events of tonight. At the start of the tour, all the people who were there. Satoru’s mouth was set in a grim line. Suguru told him about the table with the straps. How the room had been fully prepped, waiting for him with open arms. “I don’t know what they want with all of us. There were high school kids there for God’s sake.” Suguru shook his head and blinked; tears fell down his cheeks.

Satoru kissed them away. “I don’t know. Nothing good.” Suguru’s stomach tightened. Nothing good.

Suguru explained the files he found. “They were labeled Six Eyes. I don’t know what’s in them, but I got them. We can go through them together.”

Satoru nodded and kissed him again. This time on the lips. “Thank you,” he said, a bit breathless. 

“For what?” Suguru blinked at him, still feeling fuzzy from their contact -from the thrum of Satoru’s heart against his shoulder. It never seemed to slow, probably another enhancement from the bite. It made Satoru run hot, like a heated blanket. It was comforting in a way.

“For risking everything to help me. Even if I didn’t know. Thank you.”

Suguru recaptured Satoru’s lips, chasing the thank you. It tasted sweet -better than sweet. Satoru melted beneath him, pulling Suguru down on him, pushing him back with his lips. Suguru straddled him, got his hands on Satoru’s hips, his waist, down to his ass. He stopped and squeezed. The whimper that broke past the other boy’s lips drove him over the edge of crazy. They shouldn’t be indulging. He knew that, faintly, at the back of his mind.

Satoru’s hands roved over Suguru’s back, up and up until they made their home in Suguru’s hair. Satoru pulled Suguru gently back. “I guess,” he panted out. “I- it’s my turn now, right?”

Suguru kissed him again, swallowing the sentence whole. The kiss was all teeth. His mind spun: Satoru’s here. He’s safe. I have him, and he’s alive. Alive for me, right under my fingertips. He paused. “You’re turn for what?” He asked breathlessly.

“To -” Suguru sucked the spot where Satoru’s jaw connected with his throat. The sounds he made lit a fire in Suguru, but he was stopped with a hand on his chest. “I can’t think,” Satoru panted.

He smiled, “I’m doing my job well, then.”

“Ru,” Satoru whined. “We need to finish talking about this, right?”

Suguru kissed him one more time. “Right. I’m listening.” And he was, he was all ears. Suguru was listening.

Satoru took a deep, steadying breath. His eyebrows scrunched together as he tried to collect his thoughts. “Basically… Last night I told the skeleton of the truth.” His story picked up with the car ride with Star back from the fight club. All that was said -all that was threatened. 

Satoru had told Riko everything, and Satoru felt guilty for it because she ended up in the hospital in less than 24 hours after spilling his guts. Satoru explained the events of the previous night, putting the suit on for the first time. How they had to sedate him because it caused him to have a complete breakdown. “I don’t know what they did this time…” Satoru trailed off, clenching Suguru’s dress shirt in his fist. “I don’t even remember putting it on tonight. I’m like, psychologically fried.” Satoru imitated an explosion with his hand and stuck his tongue out with an animated bleh.

Suguru ran a finger down the side of his face, and the other shuddered. “I’m sorry, Toru, that’s awful.”

“I’m worried about how this all affects Riko now… Suguru, I can’t live through losing her.”

Suguru placed a hand on the nape of Satoru’s neck. “You won’t have to. We’ll make sure nothing happens to her.”

Satoru pulled him on top of him again and kissed him. Suguru could still taste the fear in Satoru’s kiss. Felt the tremor in his hands. Noticed the way his body refused to relax, even pressed flush against him, even after everything they’d survived tonight.

He was trying -God, he was trying- to keep Satoru grounded. To keep himself grounded. To not think about the metal exam table beckoning him forward. To not imagine Sue strapped to one of them, still trapped in that vile place. He stroked the side of Satoru’s neck with his thumb, slow and steady, and felt Satoru’s pulse flutter wildly beneath his skin. A hummingbird trapped in a gilded cage.

“Hey,” Suguru whispered. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

Satoru went still. Not the good kind of still. Suguru had done something -said something wrong. He’d broken the spell they’d been under, one cast by the Sandman himself. The stillness made Suguru feel like a dam was cracking somewhere behind his ribs.

“No, you don’t,” Satoru whispered, voice torn and thin. 

Suguru lifted himself onto his elbows and frowned down at him, “Toru?”

“You don’t,” Satoru said again, shaking his head hard again. Like he was trying to shake his own thoughts loose. “Because I haven’t told you the most important thing.”

Suguru’s heart galloped wildly in his chest. He started to move off of Satoru, but the other boy stopped him with a hand on the small of his back. Satoru opened his eyes. Suguru had seen them bright, furious, teasing, alive with mischief. He had never seen them like this -wet, unguarded, and terrified. 

Satoru breathed out softly, like a secret falling out of him. He buried his face in his hands, "Nothing... I don't know. Satoru shook his head and avoided eye contact. "It's been a long night. Can you just hold me?"

Suguru closed his eyes, his breath freezing in his lungs. The world around them -this borrowed room, this strange safehouse, the weight of the night, the danger outside -it all fell away. There was only Satoru. Just the boy beneath him with shaking hands and a quivering mouth. Suguru pulled him in close and kissed the top of his head. "Of course. Anything for you, Toru."

Satoru burrowed in close, wet lashes brushing against Suguru's throat. "I’m just so fucking scared because every time I close my eyes I see you hurt or taken or- God- dead, and I can’t- I can’t handle the thought-” his voice broke. Fingers fisted in Suguru’s shirt, dragging him closer so they’d drown together.

Suguru felt his own heart shatter at the edges.

“I can't lose you,” Satoru stated, angry at his own trembling voice. “I don’t know what’s happening to me, and I don’t know how much time I have before this thing inside me takes something I can’t get back- but I swear to God, Suguru, if I die without you knowing-” That was as far as he made it; he'd cut himself off again. Satoru broke completely. A sound tore out of him -quiet, raw, the kind of sound someone makes when the truth finally rips free.

“Stop,” Suguru breathed. It came out wrong, and he didn’t mean it to. To sound so sharp and raw. But Satoru froze beneath him, rearing back into the mattress as if he’d been struck.

Suguru shook his head, groped at Satoru’s face. He wanted him to look him in the eyes again. “No-no. Toru, not stop like that. Just-” Words were failing him. Suguru tried again. “Stop because I can’t- God, I can’t hear you say that while you’re crying like you’re confessing to a crime.”

Satoru’s breath hitched as Suguru lowered himself again. Their noses brushed together. His hands shook where they held his face -shook so hard Satoru’s teeth rattled together. “Toru,” he whispered. “It's okay. Calm down. I'm not going anywhere, nothing is going to happen to me.” Satoru let out a shaking exhale—half sob, half laugh. He still clung to Suguru's shirt.

Suguru wiped the tears from his cheeks with both thumbs. “I care about you,” he said. Not whispered. Not hesitant. Steady. True. “You're my best friend, Satoru. My one and only. It's always been you, it will always continue to be you.”

The other boy shuddered beneath him- like a rope coming unraveled. Suguru kissed the corner of his mouth -kissed over to the other corner. He trailed kisses through Satoru’s tear tracks. Every kiss was steadier than the last, anchoring both of them. “I love you,” Suguru whispered into the other's hair. “And I’m not going anywhere. I'm ruined for anyone else, have been for a long time now.” Satoru clung to him, but he'd gone quiet. Suguru closed his eyes, reeling back the emotional onslaught and cursing himself. He'd overstepped. It hadn't been the right time for a confession of that caliber. They'd been through a lot that night- and not only that, they had four years of silence weighing heavily between them still. That hadn't changed, hadn't been resolved. He still hadn't told Satoru the worst of it, didn't know how to articulate it. Regardless of the kisses and the intimate moments shared over the last two days, nothing had actually changed. Suguru was just deluding himself, pretending the past had no present consequences.

Suguru cupped his face in both hands, knocked their foreheads together, close enough to feel Satoru’s frantic breaths against his lips. “Hey,” Suguru whispered. “It's okay, you don't have to say it back. I'm still here. I'll be whatever you need me to be." It had felt, just for a moment, that Satoru was conveying the same thing. That was what he had cut himself off from saying: That he loved Suguru, but even if it wasn't, it didn't change the choice Suguru had made. He would wait as long as he had to. Four years, eight, he'd wait for Satoru; Suguru would give him all the time he needed. Satoru squeezed his eyes shut. Another sob tore through him. Suguru’s thumbs brushed over the tears before they had a chance to fall. “I’m right here,” he repeated, softer this time. Then Satoru kissed him. If this was what Satoru needed from him at the moment, then Suguru would give it willingly. Satoru could take it all, every last drop. It was always meant for him anyway; he'd give his life for his.

The kiss wasn't careful or reverent. It was a desperate, possessive kiss. Satoru kissed him like the world was burning down around them, and this was the last bit of oxygen he was allowed. The world was ending, but in the loft, in the frantic push of their lips, was the only safe harbor. 

Suguru matched his intensity. He kissed Suguru with a wrecked, feverish urgency. He grabbed hold of Suguru like he was terrified he’d disappear if he let go, even for a second. Suguru didn’t pull away. He wouldn’t -couldn’t even if he wanted to. Not from this. Not from Satoru. Not now -not ever.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Satoru woke slowly. It felt like trying to break the surface of the ocean after capsizing. His heart beat raced, sweat clung to him, and his head pounded. He felt heavy and wrong, like he was waterlogged. Worst of all was the disorientation. For a breath, Satoru didn’t remember where he was.

There was a cold metal table. Restraints dug into his wrist. A phantom voice ordering him to remain still while his heart beat wildly behind his ribs. His body lurched forward before his mind caught up. Oxygen fled him in a stuttering rush. No, no, no-

He cracked his eyes open. Nothing took shape around him -the ceiling, the walls, the shadows in the room. His breath caught sharp in his throat as fear crawled its way up his spine -securing itself somewhere behind a scream. But then bits and pieces started to come into focus, his senses returning to a relatively normal level. 

There was warmth. A solid chest rising and falling beneath his cheek. A heartbeat. Suguru. Satoru blinked once, twice, and forced the shapes to make sense. Suguru was half sitting, half slumped against the wall that the bed was pushed against. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and his head rested slightly off to the side as if he’d only accidentally fallen asleep. 

Satoru took a deep breath. Suguru. He was safe -he was here with him. He hadn't left Satoru alone. Suguru loved him. The confession. He loved him, had no plans of leaving him. The revelation had overwhelmed Satoru. He'd wanted to say exactly that, but couldn't. Hadn't felt the time was right, but Suguru had known somehow. A soft sound slipped from his mouth before he could swallow it back— a small, instinctive noise. It would’ve been embarrassing if he’d been fully awake. But he wasn’t. He was raw and half-dreaming and bone-tired. And Suguru loved him. It just didn't feel real.

Suguru stirred, his face scrunching in discomfort as he moved his neck. Satoru could see the bruises there, even in the faint light from the lamp. The bruises he’d given him. His heart strained. He'd almost killed Suguru. Yet, somehow, he still loved him. Suguru was so fucking stupid; he had no survival instincts. How could he love a monster that has almost killed him? The insanity of it allowed for doubt to creep in. Satoru felt utterly undeserving. “Toru?” He whispered, voice thick with sleep. The sound of it made Satoru’s stomach dip -it made him feel conflicted. He’d hurt him- almost killed him. Yet, the man still retained the capacity to love him regardless of it all. Something broke open inside him. 

Without thinking, without even deciding, Satoru reached for him. His hand fumbled against Suguru’s side, searching blindly, desperate for something real to anchor himself before the panic swallowed him whole. Suguru caught his hand in his, fingers pressing into Satoru’s skin, steady and warm. Suguru is here. He loves me.

“Easy,” Suguru murmured, thumb dusting over the cracked skin on Satoru’s knuckles.

He didn’t have words in him. Satoru didn’t possess the ability to speak, something he’d been robbed of by the suit, maybe by Star. He made a choked noise and surged forward, pressing his face into Suguru’s chest. The fear, the disorientation, the leftover static of the suit—it all spilled out of him on a shaking exhale. He didn't know how to do this- didn't know if he deserved any of it: Suguru's kindness, his affection, his loyalty.

Suguru’s arms wrapped around his back as he pulled him closer. He ran a hand through Satoru’s hair, pressed a kiss to his temple. “It’s alright, go back to sleep.”

Safe. Safe. Safe. Despite all the odds, he was safe here, especially here, wrapped in Suguru’s arms. Satoru could do this. If Suguru stayed. He could learn to be the kind of person deserving of love like his.

Words slowly returned to him. “Ru…” Satoru whispered into his shirt, voice trembling.

“You’re safe,” Suguru whispered against his temple.

“You didn’t leave,” he mumbled, surprised. Suguru always left when things got too difficult. Always balked in the face of danger. Satoru needed him now more than ever. The fear of being abandoned again weighed heavily on his heart. But if Suguru could forgive Satoru for last night's transgressions, at how poorly he'd treated him the last few days, then Satoru could trust that Suguru would be true to his word. He had been so far. After the worst night of Satoru's life, Suguru remained steadfast beside him. Had confessed to him.

“I won’t, I promised I wouldn’t,” Suguru answered, like it was the easiest thing he’s ever had to say.

And God- God, he could’ve cried with relief. He felt Suguru breathe, slow and controlled. Satoru felt anchored by the warmth of Suguru's palms splayed between his shoulder blades. He wasn't going to leave this time. Satoru wanted to believe he meant it. Something warm and bright bloomed behind his ribs. Satoru moved to press his forehead against Suguru’s collarbone. He wanted to bite them, maybe lick them, but he was still tired. He could feel Suguru’s pulse there -steady and comforting. He felt around for Suguru’s hand, clumsy and half asleep.

Suguru guided their fingers together. His hand was a sure bet, warm and gentle. Satoru squeezed once, Suguru squeezed back. Relief flooded his system, and his eyes drooped closed. He felt dizzy -exhausted, but safe. “Stay…” Satoru murmured, half asleep. “Just for… Just stay a second.”

“As long as you want,” Suguru answered and pressed another kiss to his temple. 

Satoru’s breathing slowed; he relaxed against Suguru’s body. His heart stopped trying to escape its cage. “Promise?”

Suguru squeezed him against his chest, reassuringly. “Promise.” The room was quiet again. And they were safe. Satoru drifted back towards sleep, Suguru’s hand in his, Suguru’s heartbeat beneath his ear, his arm around him. He wasn't going anywhere without Satoru by his side. He could trust Suguru's word. Satoru was safe. Here with Suguru, he was safe.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Tuesday October 13th

Suguru woke with a faint ache in his neck and the weight of Satoru draped over half his body. A thin ray of sunlight slipped through the blinds, soft and gray. Outside, Tokyo was waking up, shedding the horrors of the night before. Inside their loft, though, everything felt unchanged. Fear and guilt had taken shelter with them, with Suguru. His mind went back to Sue, to the high school kids. To everyone he’d left behind in that hellscape. Suguru closed his eyes, allowing the weight of it to press down before he forced himself to breathe again.

He looked down at Satoru, who still had his cheek pressed to Suguru’s hip. Satoru’s hair was mussed, and his breath was warm where it hit his exposed skin, but it fell from Satoru at uneven intervals -like he’d been crying even in sleep. He didn’t dare move until he was certain that Satoru was still deeply asleep. He lifted one slow hand and brushed a strand of white hair from Satoru’s forehead. He looked so much younger like this -soft and unarmored. It killed Suguru to remember what Satoru had been through. Not just the events of last week, but throughout his life. Satoru had shouldered more than his fair share of hardship, and Suguru knew there was more waiting for him -for both of them. But he loved his Toru. If Satoru would allow him to, he'd shoulder every hardship by his side from this moment onward.

Carefully, Suguru shifted his legs, sliding out from beneath Satoru’s shoulders with the kind of delicate precision reserved for defusing bombs. Satoru murmured something faint and incoherent, but he didn’t wake. His fingers twitched once, reaching out for something he couldn’t grasp. Suguru’s breath caught in his throat -guilt fighting its way up -tightening itself around his spine. He leaned down and pressed his lips softly to Satoru’s temple. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered.

Suguru stood from bed, his sore muscles protesting. He padded barefoot into the small living room. He rummaged around for the TV remote, finally found it, and clicked it on, but he was met with static. The television didn’t seem to have cable; instead, it was wired to some rabbit ear TV antennas. He adjusted them until a reporter's voice filled the room.

An old man materialized on the screen. His tone was grave, but Suguru caught on to his act quickly enough. Gagkuganji was a self-important, self-righteous quack. Suguru saw right through the old man’s rehearsed outrage. He was prepared to switch it off again, but then: “…anonymous sources suggest Ryomen Tech may be covering up a critical event—possibly a radiation leak, a biohazard mishap, or—if these reports are to be believed—a failed military-grade experiment.”

Suguru’s breath abandoned him. Footage flashed across the screen: aerial shots of Ryomen Tech in darkness, emergency lights flickering. Police lines. A blurred figure on a stretcher. Rumors. Diagrams. Possibilities. A knot formed in Suguru’s gut. They were already spinning a web. Too fast. Just too fucking fast. His heart thudded in his chest; however, he didn’t get a chance to properly spiral. The floorboards creaked in the bedroom.

“-Ru?” The sound was small- it barely existed. Thin. Frayed. The kind of voice someone uses when they’re halfway between sleep and drowning. Fractured and terrified. Suguru spun around just as Satoru stumbled into the room, one hand braced against the wall, the other at his chest like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. His pupils were blown, his face stark with panic, bone-deep, feral panic.

“Toru-” Suguru crossed to him immediately. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t seem to hear him. “Where- Ru- Where were you?” He grabbed at Suguru’s forearm, fingers digging in so hard it hurt. Suguru took a sharp inhale through his teeth. Satoru’s own breathing was shallow and frantic. “I couldn’t- I thought- I couldn’t see. I thought-” His body shook violently, Suguru didn’t think it was a side effect of the cold morning air. He’d seen panic attacks, but this was on an entirely different level. Satoru was unraveling. His own mind grappled for answers. He tried to puzzle together what Satoru needed and how to get it to him as quickly as possible.

He'd try to ground him with physical touch, which had always seemed to help when they were younger. Suguru cupped his face, ignoring the stinging pain from Satoru’s vice grip. “Look at me, Toru, look at me.” But Satoru’s gaze kept slipping away, unfocused- like his mind was scrambling -struggling to keep up with his body. Suguru’s chest tightened painfully. He tilted Satoru’s face up to meet his gaze. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re with me. I just moved to the other room-” Words of assurance failed to reach him.

Satoru shook his head and tried to pull out of Suguru’s hold. He didn't know what else to do. Seeing Satoru in this state only served to remind him of his vow to raze Ryomen Tech to the ground. He'd make good on that promise, even if it killed him, and he suspected it would. Suguru grabbed his shoulders, gently trying to recapture his focus.  “Toru, listen to me-”

“No,” Satoru gasped, his pupils were blown wide. “It-it wasn’t just that. Something’s wrong. I feel-” He pressed his hands to his temples, shaking his head violently. “Everything feels- wrong. My skin. My head-” Suguru tried to pull him back in, but Satoru pushed away. Suguru staggered back, pride a little wounded. As the other boy continued to spiral, Suguru grew more alarmed. Satoru pulled at his own hair, hard enough that snow white tufts fell to the floor. His eyes bounced from wall to wall as he staggered backwards. He collided with one of the barstools and stumbled forward, falling to his knees in an anxious ball of limbs. Suguru didn't know how to react, but Satoru was starting to scare him. 

“Toru,” Suguru put his hand out cautiously, just as he had back at the lab, and slowly stepped toward him. Suguru wasn't sure this was the right choice; he didn't know if it was wise to approach the other in this state. The last thing he wanted to do was make Satoru feel cornered. Still, he had to try something. “Breath with me. Take a deep breath. Come on. I’m right here-”

Satoru’s breath hitched. He lurched forward, back on his feet again, hands clutching at Suguru’s shirt, fingers trembling violently as he pulled at the fabric. The action was unexpected. It sent both of them careening into the back of the couch. Suguru had his breath knocked out of him. Satoru's eyes darted towards the TV- towards the footage of Ryomen Tech. Satoru clambered to his feet again and staggered back. “No- Turn it off. Turn- Turn it off!”

Suguru half-turned to snatch the remote from the arm of the couch and shut the TV off. The screen went dark, and the sudden silence was unsettling. He scrambled to his feet to assess Satoru, but the boy hadn't calmed. Instead, he fell forward on his knees. Suguru was beside him in an instant. “Satoru, baby? You gotta tell me what’s wrong!” He didn't put his hands on him for the same reason he was reluctant to approach him earlier.

“Turn it off!” Satoru shouted again. His eyes were screwed shut, and his hands were clamped hard over his ears. He was still shaking and hyperventilating. Satoru was spiralling, and Suguru had no idea how to help.

“Sweetheart, it’s off. I turned it off,” Suguru said gently. Then, making a split-second decision, Suguru set a hand on Satoru’s shoulder.

“No!” Satoru choked out, twisting away from Suguru's touch, as if the contact had sent an electric shock through him. That's what Suguru had been trying to avoid: Overwhelming the other. “Turn it off! Suguru, please,” the boy’s voice broke on the last word.

Moving away swiftly, Suguru got to his feet. It dawned on him then what Satoru must be talking about: The suit. It has to be the suit. “Oh God,” he breathed. All his muscles tensed beneath his skin as he tried to picture the last place he'd seen the vile creation. “Toru, don’t move. I’m going to fix it. Just- just stay right there.” Suguru instructed as he bolted back into the tiny bedroom. He searched the floor for the black suit. It wasn’t where he’d left it, crumpled at the foot of the bed, just centimeters away from where he had peeled it off Satoru's body. Suguru stumbled to his hands and knees. He searched under the bed, behind the dresser, beside his bag, and in his own discarded clothing. Where the fuck could it be hiding? Suguru had already considered the alarming possibility that the suit possessed some level of sentience. But he hadn't imagined this. That it would hide from them and maliciously attack Satoru in this way.

His heartbeat slammed against his ribs as he tore the room apart. He grabbed the stun gun-taser-thing from Kaido’s lab coat; it was the only thing he knew would work against the suit. He clutched it close as he turned in circles, looking. A shockwave of panic unfurled in his gut. A loud thud came from the living room. The panic spooled out to his limbs. “Satoru?” He called out. He waited. No answer. He stepped out of the bedroom and back into the living room. Suguru cautiously rounded the couch. Time froze for a horrifying second. Satoru was lying on his back, body trembling, arching from pain. His mouth was open in a silent scream.

Suguru raced over to him, collapsing to his knees, hitting the old hardwood with enough force to make it groan in protest. The suit had slithered up half of Satoru’s body already. The fabric sucked him down. Suguru aimed the device at the suit, but Satoru held out his hand. “Stop- Not again-” It was meant to be a shout, Sugur thought, but it came out wrong. “Please, no!” Satoru screamed.

Suguru shook his head and didn’t drop his arm. "It's the only way I know to help you." He'd said it at an inaudible level, barely considered a whisper. He hesitated, though, unsure if it was Satoru talking or the suit speaking through him. He lowered the device and switched tactics, trying to give Satoru a fighting chance. Suguru tried to pull the suit off him, just as he had last night. But now the suit clung tighter, fighting back stronger than before. “Toru, baby, stay with me, okay?” It now covered Satoru’s arms and stomach. For a moment, the suit stopped, as if reconsidering. Suguru’s left hand was splayed over Satoru’s stomach, where the suit was climbing higher up his chest. It latched itself onto Suguru, who tried to reel back. No amount of force was capable of stopping it. The suit attempted to pull Suguru in. He was fighting with all his might not to allow it to drag him down onto Satoru. Suguru didn't know what the suit wanted. Whether it was to choose him as a new pilot or if it intended to fuse the two of them. Suguru only knew one thing: It had had to be stopped. He knew what he had to do, even if it broke his heart. “Toru, I have to use it,” Suguru said, grappling for the device with his free hand.

The other boy couldn’t speak. He shook his head, sobs the only sounds escaping past his lips. Suguru had to. He knew it was the only path forward. Suguru aimed again. “NO!” Satoru screamed, his voice low and guttural -distorted. Suguru had never seen him so terrified. It's the only way, he reminded himself.

Suguru had made his decision. He shut his eyes tightly against the sight of the suit clinging to Satoru’s chin. Suguru pulled the trigger, and a withering scream punched out of Satoru. The suit’s pursuit halted. Satoru went limp. Suguru couldn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t process what had just happened. The phone rang. He didn’t even know a phone was here. Maybe it was just his ears ringing with the reverberation of the stun device and of hearing Satoru scream out in pain. Suguru didn't know. He didn’t move. He didn’t think he was even breathing. The ringing stopped. He just stayed there, hovering above Satoru, propped up by his wobbly knees. Satoru was curled on the ground. Still, quiet. He didn't want to look too closely at what he'd just done. Stopped the suit, yes, but at what cost?

Time snagged. Suguru was weightless. He was alone. He didn’t want to be, or maybe that was the only thing he wanted. To have just one fucking moment where it was quiet and he was alone. Absolved of his sins and the guilt he carried. Where he didn’t have to watch someone he loved fall apart, like his mother -like his father. To have just one beat where he didn’t have to do anything, or be anyone. The phone rang again. Suguru ignored it; he didn’t know where it was, didn’t care who was calling. Maybe it was just his ears, or a figment of his imagination. He forced himself to open his eyes, to assess the damage. Gingerly, he brought his fingers up to his ears: No blood. Next, his eyes: No tears. He forced his gaze to move to Satoru.

The boy he loved didn’t move, and Suguru stared hard, waiting for his chest to rise. It felt like an eternity had passed him by, but it had only been a few seconds. Imperceptibly, Satoru’s chest finally rose and fell again. Suguru let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He felt sick. Satoru was pale against the dark wood floors of the loft. He lay there motionless, mouth slightly open. Soft, shallow panting reached Suguru's ears. The suit had retracted back down to Satoru's waist. Suguru felt sick to his stomach. Satoru looked like a discarded porcelain doll. Red lips, pale skin, limbs stiff and stationary. Suguru heaved onto the floor. Spats of bile fell from his mouth, and he clutched his stomach, eyes squeezing shut again.

Suguru heard his own wet, wrecked breathing. Satoru still wasn’t moving. Suguru feared he'd never move again. The boy was barely breathing. Nausea rolled over Suguru in waves, but there was nothing in his stomach. He was forced through the motions of it anyway, his body trying to reject something that had already poisoned him a long time ago. The phone rang. This time, he had the clarity to know he wasn't just hearing things. It was somewhere behind him. He ignored it. Instead, Suguru wiped his mouth with his bare arm and crawled over to Satoru. He didn't possess the strength to hold himself up. He ended up collapsed on top of Satoru -pressing his forehead into the other boy’s collarbone.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I had to, it would’ve taken you…” Maybe it already has. It was an ugly thought, but it wormed its way up to the forefront of Suguru’s mind. The fear of it left him a sobbing, paralyzed mess.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Suguru didn’t remember standing. Had no recollection of lifting Satoru. He didn’t remember the short, shaky walk to the bedroom, nor the act of carefully laying him back onto the mattress. He only came back to himself as he pulled the blankets over Satoru’s chest, smoothing the fabric with hands that wouldn’t stop trembling.

Satoru didn’t stir as he did this all this. “Good,” Suguru whispered, voice hoarse and frayed. “Sleep. Please… just stay asleep. Let me do the rest.” He brushed a thumb along Satoru’s cheekbone -light as a breath. Then, he forced himself to step back. He had to, because if he stayed here in the suffocating silence, he’d fall apart again. Neither of them could afford that outcome.

The loft felt cold when he crossed back into the living room. Morning light still streamed in from the windows. The world still turned outside the loft. Suguru could hardly believe it. He could hardly comprehend how the world could move on while Satoru was half dead. Would everyone expect him to carry on if the worst came to pass? Suguru knew the answer. It would be the same as when his mother died. He appreciated for the first time, his father’s reaction. Suguru knew he couldn’t live in a world without Satoru  he’d react worse than his father. He’d follow Satoru right into the afterlife without a second thought. He just wouldn’t be able to bare it. 

He pushed the thought away for now. Satoru was still breathing. He would do everything in his power to keep it that way. Suguru forced himself to focus on the suit. It was the key to understanding all this shit. The suit lay discarded where Suguru had finally managed to peel Satoru out of it. It sat slick and inert, but not dead. It was taunting them, bidding its time before it would inevitably attack Satoru again. Suguru knelt and scooped it off the ground.

He dropped it on the work table. Tools were already set out; he didn’t remember preparing them. Suguru barely registered his own movements as he switched on the small lamp hanging over the work table. Nor the sound of the chair squeaking under his weight. His laptop was already open to a new coding window. The cursor blinked at him; he blinked back.

Time slipped strangely -the hours, minutes, and seconds folded in on themselves until he wasn’t sure if he’d only just sat down, or if he’d been there all morning. His vision blurred as his breath caught in his throat. Suguru pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes until stars burst behind his lids. “Get a grip,” he whispered to himself. “Get a grip or you can’t help him.” In the end, that was all that mattered. Satoru. He’d do what was needed for him. He’d make it so the suit and Ryomen Tech could never hurt Satoru again.

His hands shook as he reached for the suit. He half expected it to spring at him -coil around his wrist like it had Satoru’s torso. To bite him and devour him whole. It didn’t move. Suguru exhaled shakily and nodded. “Good,” he muttered. “Stay that way.” Suguru set the stun device beside him -ready to use again if needed. He picked up an exacto-knife from the table.

The blade met resistance. It couldn’t cut through the suit. The material warped around the knife and then knitted itself back together the moment the blade lifted. Suguru swore under his breath, and he startled back from the table; his nerves were all over the place, making this impossible task that much harder. Suguru sucked in a breath and tried again, this time applying more force than before. The suit flexed under his touch, resisted the knife, then reformed. “Come on,” Suguru gritted out. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, but he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

He reached for a micro-drill next, adjusting the bit with trembling fingers. He was going to cut through this demon if it took him all fucking day. He’d do it even if it stole years of his life. Satoru wouldn’t be able to live without fear until it was desecrated, and neither could he.

The drill whirred, and the suit began to ripple under the pressure -as if reacting to pain. It emitted a high-pitch screech and began to writhe. He shut the drill off with a gasp and strained his ears to listen for any movement from Satoru. Suguru couldn’t hurt him again, even by proxy. He wasn’t sure if there was a link, if both man and suit could feel each other even when separated. It wasn’t a risk Suguru was willing to take. His stomach lurched from the thought alone. Suguru paused, thinking about the next best option.

He swallowed the mounting nausea, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants, and pivoted to the next idea. If Suguru couldn’t physically cut into the suit, there was still a chance he could cut into it digitally. He grabbed a connection cable and plugged it into the stun device's output port and his laptop. Then he clipped the conductive leads to the suit, praying the interface wasn’t proprietary. Hoping against all odds that the feedback from the stun-gun would keep the suit subdued without implicating Satoru.

Suguru got to work. His fingers flew over his keyboard, and line after line of code scrolled across the screen. Nothing happened for a moment. Suguru’s heart stalled in his chest. He just had to figure something out. Hell, he’d put the fucking suit on himself if he had to. Just as he was about to push away from the workbench, he felt a pulse. It was small -faint. But it was there. His breath caught as he stared down at the suit. “There you are,” he whispered. “Come on… show me what they did to him.”

He pushed deeper, hijacked the connection. He bulugened a handshake protocol with something buried in the suit’s neural layer. His laptop screen flickered. A data tree blossomed -twisted, corrupted branches labeled with things he didn’t understand, and other things he understood all too well. In a fucked up kind of way, it reminded him of a skill tree someone would find in a video game.

REACTION THRESHOLD

SYNAPTIC OVERRIDE

NEUROVASCULAR LINKAGE

BEHAVIORAL COMPLIANCE

EXECUTIVE LOCK

PRIMARY HOST: GOJO, SATORU

Suguru’s pulse stopped. For a moment he couldn’t breathe, beside himself with disbelief. “Oh, Toru…” he whispered, voice cracking. The suit wasn’t malfunctioning. It wasn’t exhibiting random behavior. It wasn’t mimicking Satoru… it was adapting to him. Tethered, obeying him sometimes, overriding him others. It was living through him. Suguru covered his mouth with a shaking hand. “Oh God,” Suguru shook his head. “What have they done…”

His chest ached as grief poured into him. Guilt and rage were a physical force working up his throat. He swallowed down against the mounting nausea. The phone rang once more. Suguru didn’t look -he still didn’t care. He opened the next file, then the next. He poured over them. Hours or minutes passed him by -Suguru didn’t know the difference anymore. Time was just another force working against him.

Suguru wouldn’t stop. Not until he understood how this thing worked. Not until he knew how to protect Satoru from it. And not until he found a way to burn Ryomen Tech to the ground.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

His fingers were going numb, the loft felt like a freezer, but Suguru kept working. Lines of encrypted script continued to ripple across his laptop screen, looping, fracturing, reforming. Suguru kept thinking he would eventually hit the bottom, but he hadn’t. The data tree branched again, opening a new directory he hadn’t touched. It had been buried deep in the code. His cursor hovered. He swallowed hard and double-clicked. 

His screen went black. Suguru’s breath hitched -then a single line of text appeared:

WING E: PRIMARY HOST RESPONSE LOG

OVERRIDE LEVEL — OMEGA

ACCESSING…

Data lines appeared with timestamps from this morning:

07:43 — NEURAL SYNC STATUS: PARTIAL

07:47 — ADAPTATION SPIKE DETECTED

07:52 — HOST RESISTANCE: EXTREME

08:03 — EXECUTIVE LOCK APPLIED

08:09 — EMERGENT BEHAVIOR: NONCOMPLIANT

08:11 — PRIMARY HOST REJECTION CASCADE INITIATED

08:12 — BACKUP HOST PROTOCOL ENABLED

Suguru blinked. The suit recognized Satoru’s behavior as resistance. Which meant Satoru had been subconsciously fighting against the suit each time he piloted. It wasn’t an intolerance or compatibility issue. Backup host? That was the part Suguru didn’t understand. To their knowledge, Satoru was the only person successfully transplanted with the spider’s venom. Even if there was someone else, they weren’t nearby. The suit would have no way of reaching the other candidate. Unless- Suguru’s throat closed as he scrolled further. Just one line down he found his answer.

08:13 — SECONDARY HOST IDENTIFIED: GETO, SUGURU

08:13 — NEURAL COMPATIBILITY: 87%

The chair scraped against the wooden floors as he stood far too quickly from the workbench. Fuck. No, no, no, no. Having the spider’s venom wasn’t a baseline for comparability. It was based on a persons neural signature. Even without being bit, Suguru could replace Satoru as the primary host. That made things simple then. He’d make that trade in a heartbeat if it kept Satoru safe. He read on.

08:13 — BACKUP HOST PRIORITY: ACTIVE

08:14 — SEEKING SECONDARY HOST

08:15 — EXECUTION FAILED

08:15 — HOST OBSTRUCTION PRESENT

08:16 — SECONDARY HOST ATTEMPT ABORTED

The suit deemed him a viable backup. It wanted him. Suguru’s vision spun as he grappled with this new reality. Hus stomach heaved again. It was the same as earlier. There was nothing to vomit. His throat burned and tears blurred his vision. It wanted to take him.

The laptop dinged softly -a new window forcing itself open. Suguru flinched at the sudden sound.

FINAL NOTE:

IF PRIMARY HOST REJECTS NEURAL BINDING MORE THAN THREE

TIMES SECONDARY HOST WILL BE ASSUMED

RECOMMENDED: REMOVE PRIMARY HOST FROM EQUATION

Suguru swayed forward, palm dragging across his mouth. His heart galloped again in his chest. Not simple then. He couldn’t catch a fucking break. None of this was good or helpful, it just added to the insurmountable pile of shit they already had to deal with. If Satoru didn’t assimilate, the suit would eliminate him. “Shit,” Suguru exhaled. 

He heard the bedroom door creak open. Suguru whipped around. Satoru stood in the doorway. Sweat clung to his bare shoulders. His eyes were unfocused. “Ru?”

Suguru’s heart stuttered. “Toru-”

“What’s wrong?” Satoru whispered, voice still raw from earlier. “Your heart -it’s pounding…” Satoru touched his own temple, as if that’s where he’d felt Suguru’s jumping pulse.

Suguru snapped the laptop shut. He didn’t want Satoru to see it -didn’t want him to know any of it. Not like this. But Satoru stepped forward, blinking hard as his eyes adjusted to the harsh light of the lamp. He reached out for the table.

“Suguru… What did you find?”

Suguru opened his mouth -then snapped it shut. He didn’t know what to say; he didn’t want to tell him the truth. The suit wanted them both. It tried to take both of them. It would have one of them in the end. Suguru lost either way Satoru’s fingers brushed his arm. Tears welled up in Suguru’s eyes. “Ru,” he whispered again, pressing in close. “Please. Tell me.” Suguru was going to lose him. The suit would take the boy he loved away, or he would die trying to resist.

Suguru inhaled sharply. He acutely understood that if he lied to Satoru -even with the intention of protecting him -it would break both of them. I’m losing him anyway. Suguru fought with himself. He didn’t want it to be this way, didn’t want to damage the already shaken trust Satoru had in him. He sighed, defeated. “Toru,” he began unsteadily. “It’s the suit. It-” Suguru choked on the words. They felt like shards of glass to say.

“What? It what?” Satoru asked, working himself into a frenzy. He grabbed a hold of Suguru’s wrists. “Please, just tell me.”

Suguru closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at him as he said it, and he was a fucking coward for it. “Its program- It’s supposed to-” Suguru swallowed hard against the acid rising. “You fought its program, rejected it so thoroughly that- that… it activated a different protocol. One to find a backup. A replacement host.”

Satoru swayed on his feet. He was blinking hard, over and over again. “Suguru…” he said softly. Horror bloomed across his features. “…it wants you?” He asked, stunned.

Suguru nodded, still not looking at him. “Yeah.”

Satoru grasped at his hair, taking a step back. “It tried to take you. This morning… It tried to-”

“But it wasn’t successful.” Suguru whispered.

“I wouldn’t survive,” Satoru said. He gasped for air. “Suguru, I wouldn’t survive if it took you.”

Suguru took a deep breath. He knew it was true. And knowing that was going to tear his world apart. He opened his arms and Satoru fell forward into his chest. For a while, they stood in the cramped work space and clung to each other.

Chapter Text

Tuesday October 13th

They’d fallen asleep again. The loft had grown colder, and it had seeped under Suguru’s skin to anchor down around his bones. Before he opened his eyes, a shudder ran through him, and goose bumps rose on his skin. He was in the in-between state of rest and awareness. There was knocking on the door, but he was too out of it to really process the implications. Satoru was curled up in his lap, fitfully dreaming. The other boy flinched and twitched in his sleep. Suguru had been aware of the other’s restlessness even in his own dream. He could only imagine what horrors were running rampant in his mind. Suguru ran a hand through Satoru’s hair to soothe him, and the boy instantly relaxed. Half convinced he’d imagined the knock at the door, Suguru was fully prepared to surrender to the dregs of sleep once more. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall.

He was right on the cusp of another dream when he heard the noise again, this time louder. It was loud enough that Satoru stirred awake. The other cracked one eye open, “Ru? What’s going on?” He asked groggily, with red-rimmed eyes. The knocking soon turned to banging, and Suguru’s stomach twisted. Anxiety bubbled in his gut, violent and searing. If it were anyone from Ryomen Tech, they’d have broken in by now… He only half believed himself.

“Go hide in the closet,” Suguru whispered, already helping Satoru into a sitting position.

Satoru froze, resisting Suguru’s efforts to move him. “I’m not leaving you,” he protested, shaking his head. “There’s no fucking way I’m gonna go hide right now. I’m the one with powers, remember?”

Irritation warred with anxiety. He didn’t need the reminder. “Toru, I know. Just this once… we won’t be far apart-” The banging was frantic now, Suguru could barely hear himself think. “Toru, just listen to me and get in the closet!” He snapped. A pang of guilt went through him, but Satoru’s safety was more important than their feelings. He tried to soften his tone, though, “You’re the one they’re after.”

Satoru only stalled a second, features clearly torn between defiance and fear. “Not true. They want both of us,” he muttered, but he clambered out of Suguru’s lap and tucked himself away in the bedroom. There was another knock, and Suguru just knew that whoever was behind the door was pissed. He carefully got to his feet and padded over. The person’s shadow cascaded in through the curtain. It was distorted; it gave no hints as to who was waiting for him on the other side. He fought hard against the fear, trying to render him frozen.

With a deep breath, Suguru slid the curtain to the side. Relief instantly flooded his system. The anxiety dissipated to a more manageable level. He felt like he’d pass out or vomit from the whiplash, pins and needles lodged themselves in his stomach. Suguru quickly swung open the door and threw himself at the man standing there. “Thank you,” tears tracked down his cheeks, and he buried his face into the man’s shoulder. Mumbling thanks over and over again.

The older man laughed and rubbed Suguru’s back. “It’s my pleasure, my boy. Though I was a little worried that you weren’t answering my calls.”

Suguru pulled back to look at Doc’s face. It was as he remembered it, just with a few extra smile lines. “I threw out my SIM card.”

“I figured that, so I called the landline.” His hand came up to wipe tears away from Suguru’s chin. “Did a fuse blow? I only had an hour to set the place up. I should’ve checked the phone, I guess.”

It took Suguru a moment to process… but then he remembered. “Right, no, not a fuse problem. I remember it ringing now. Sorry, you called at a tense time… I wasn’t sure who’d be calling, and I just…” He trailed off, weary about telling Otto too much.

Doc smiled at him and lowered his hand to Suguru’s shoulder. “That’s okay. I’m just glad you’re safe. I brought food. Are you hungry?”

As if on cue, a stomach growled. Suguru turned to find Satoru standing behind him. The bubble of anxiety expanding in his gut popped. “What did I tell you?” Suguru snapped.

“It didn’t sound dangerous. I just wanted to see what was happening, Suguru. I’m not a fucking child!” He crossed his arms over his chest. Satoru sure looked like a child then, but Suguru couldn’t blame him. They’d been through a lot over the last week.

“You’re right… I’m sorry.” Suguru flashed an apologetic smile, then turned back to Dr. Octavius. He was blocking the entryway still. He stepped back, allowing Doc to enter the loft. “Sorry, I guess I should introduce the two of you.” 

Suguru cleared his throat. “Uh, Doc, this is Gojo Satoru. He’s my-” Suguru cut himself off because he didn’t really know what Satoru was to him at the present moment. Were they boyfriends? They never clarified it. Probably not, though. Suguru still wasn’t sure if his romantic feelings were reciprocated. They hadn’t had the time to really talk about it. “He’s my best friend.” Better to go with the old, tried, and true. He didn’t want to seem presumptuous. Satoru’s face did a twitchy thing Suguru didn’t know how to interpret, but felt in his chest anyway. I’m already fucking this up… He didn’t know what Satoru wanted from him; didn’t know who Satoru needed him to be. Suguru felt like a fist out of water.

He turned back to Octavius to find that he had his eyebrow arched. As if he’d already deciphered the truth with a single glance. Otto was skilled at taking quick stock of people, a master at reading situations. “And um, Satoru, this is Dr. Otto Octavius. He worked with my dad for a while. He’s… He can be trusted,” Suguru finished.

From beside him, Suguru could see Satoru sizing up the newcomer. Discerning for himself if the man could indeed be trusted. Suguru wasn’t sure what conclusion was drawn, but Satoru nodded his head. “Nice to meet you,” his voice still slightly hoarse from sleep.

Octavius smiled, “The pleasure is mine. I’d heard a lot about you from Suguru. I knew your parents, too. They were brilliant. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Satoru’s spine stiffened. He nodded in response and offered a meager, “Thank you.”

Suguru took a deep breath. He hadn’t known that. He wondered then if Otto had a stake in all of this. For just a moment, Suguru doubted his decision to ask for his help. He’d been so wrong about Lee… If Suguru was making another bad call, Satoru would be the one to pay for it. The idea terrified him, rooted him to the spot. He found himself hesitating… He’d known Otto for years and had grown up with him around. If he couldn’t trust him… Suguru couldn’t trust anyone. He and Satoru would be alone in this still. He wasn’t sure if the risk was worth taking… but it was already too late to turn back now. “Okay, so I guess we have some explaining to do now.”

Otto laughed. It was odd to hear the sound bounce off the loft’s walls. Too bright a sound for a place he’d spent one of the worst nights of his life. “You sure do, but let’s eat first. Better to go over everything after the body’s been fed. Easier for the brain to process, I think.”

A small laugh pushed its way out through Suguru’s nose. His doubt fell away. He’d known this man forever. He had been like an uncle or an older brother to him before his father uprooted them all. Really, there was no one else he’d rather trust to help them. “I suppose you’re the expert.”

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

The smell of herbs and spices had Satoru’s stomach twisting in on itself. His mouth watered at the sound of eggs sizzling, scallions crisping, and bacon popping. He was starving. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. There wasn’t room in his mind to think about it. The only thought worth consuming was whether Riko was okay. It ate away at him as he stood in the small kitchen nook. It overrode every other survival instinct. Suguru had an arm wrapped around his waist, where they leaned against the opposite counter, watching Dr. Octavius make them breakfast. It helped. The proximity. Suguru’s touch served to ground him to a certain degree, but it wasn’t enough.

Otto stood at the stove looking like a father on Christmas. He wore a cable knit sweater with old jeans, and he had on worn navy house slippers. It made Satoru distrustful. It was a criminal act of its own to look that good and put together this early in the morning. Though the four mechanical arms extruding from his back ruined the illusion a bit. The sight of them also caused his stomach to cramp more. It was wrong and unnatural. They made Satoru feel especially uneasy. This man had worked for Ryomen Tech, and they were supposed to believe he was on their side? 

The four artificial arms worked in tandem with the doc’s two real arms. They passed ingredients to each other like precision assembly line workers. One cracked eggs over the skillet, while the other stirred some kind of sauce simmering in a pan. Another flipped pancakes and another salted. He was humming some atrocious dad-rock tune from the 80’s. This guy wasn’t real. He had to be a plant, Satoru was sure of it. How did Suguru even know him? It was hard to believe someone this young worked with Kenjaku. How old was he? Otto couldn’t possibly be that much older than they are. And he knew Satoru’s parents. No, Satoru did not like this guy one bit. He was far too suspicious.

Suguru, from his side, leaned in close to his ear, disrupting his silent brooding. “You’re pale,” he murmured.

“Riko,” Satoru blurted, voice cracking, his worries about Otto Octavius tabled for the moment. “We have to check on Riko and Shoko. Right now. I need to know-”

Suguru’s hand squeezed his waist. The gesture was reassuring, soothing, and anchoring. But it still fell short of being enough. The tidal wave was already at its crest, and it was coming right for him. “I know,” he said softly. “We will, soon.”

“No. Now.”

“Satoru, if we contact them now, we put them in more danger. We can’t afford to act rashly. We have to keep our emotions in check.” Satoru knew rationally that it was the right thing, but it still pissed him off. The situation kept finding ways to make him feel small and helpless. He was grasping at straws, begging for even an ounce of autonomy to be restored to him.

An approving hum came from the stove. Satoru’s eye twitched, but his gaze slid over to Otto, still diligently working on their breakfast. “He has a point, but…” one of his arms stretched out. It was long enough to reach across to the workbench. It snatched something up, and on a whir, the arm returned to Otto. Satoru stared, slightly horrified, but also a little intrigued. He still hated him, but he, too, was a man of science. Satoru could still objectively appreciate a job well done. As much as it unnerved him, hiding under all of the anxiety was a well of questions. He wanted to ask them all at once, but he kept a handle on his mouth just enough to quell the urge. 

“Phones will be tapped, Ryomen tech will be monitoring every line of communication in the city. This little beauty?” The arm raised the device for dramatic effect. “Nearly untraceable. For 10 whole minutes, they shouldn’t be able to track you.” He turned and winked, “Probably. If you hear two clicks, hang up immediately.”

The arm holding the device, which looked like a black brick, whirred toward them. Satoru held out his hand, and the device dropped into it. He held it away from his body as he scrutinized it. Suguru leaned in to get a look. “Nifty piece of tech, huh?” Otto had already turned his attention back to breakfast, but Satoru heard the grin spread wide on the older man’s face.

“Very impressive,” Suguru answered. “Is it really safe?”

Otto shrugged his shoulders. This fucking guy. “It’s your safest bet if you want to contact your friends.

Suguru moved so he blocked Satoru’s view of Otto. He was pulling the face he made when he was trying to determine the most efficient way home after a long day of classes. His eyebrows were pinched together, and his thumb bumped against his forehead. “It’s your choice.”

Satoru gave him a grateful smile. He could tell by the tension in Suguru’s shoulders that he really didn’t want to take this kind of risk. But Satoru also knew from the soft look Suguru was giving him that he’d respect his decision either way. Without further hesitation, Satoru dialed Shoko’s number with trembling hands.

She answered on the second ring, and in true Shoko fashion, she asked, “What?” Flatly.

“Shoko.” His voice cracked again. Suguru squeezed his hip once more, grounding him enough to get the words out. It was enough. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about midterms and- and disappearing and everything and-”

“Oh my God, shut up,” she snapped, tired and clearly furious. It was well earned. He’d be upset, too. But he knew that she was worried, could tell from how her breath shook on the other end of the line. “Just tell me what the hell is going on.”

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I will. I promise.”

A long exhale, then: “Fine. Update: Riko woke up an hour ago. I still haven’t been allowed back. Your aunt isn’t answering any of my calls either. And you owe me the biggest coffee of my life.”

Satoru pressed a fist to his mouth, trying to hold himself together. Suguru squeezed his waist, giving him a small, but reassuring smile. It was enough to get him through this phone call. “Can you- Shoko, can you call this number back if there are any new developments?”

Shoko hesitated, which was out of character for her. “Is this a burner? What the hell have you gotten yourself into? Where are you-”

“Just- please. This number.”

“Fine… but I mean it, Satoru. You have to tell me what’s going on. Sooner, rather than later.”

“I will. I gotta go.” He hung up and immediately sagged against Suguru.

“Hey,” the other said and traced small patterns on his waist. “Breathe. You did what you could.”

Satoru shook his head and whispered, “It’s not enough.” It’s never enough.

“You can only do your best, Toru. That's all we have to offer others.” Suguru pulled him against his chest, and Satoru went along pliantly. He folded into Suguru and let himself just be held while the sun was still high in the sky. He wanted to kiss him while no tears stained his cheeks. He wanted this to feel normal and safe for just a moment. Satoru wanted to tell him he loved him. Wanted to state it plainly for everybody there.

“Who’s hungry?” Otto suddenly asked. He’d already plated the food. The aroma alone had Satoru’s mouth watering again. This fucking guy. He was young. He was hot. He could cook. Satoru was finding more reasons to hate him by the minute.

Suguru patted his back and squeezed his waist one last time. “Hungry is an understatement. We’re famished, Doc.” He grabbed both plates for them. His eye twitched watching Suguru smile at Otto, but in the end, Satoru let himself be guided to the couch across the way in the living room. He faintly heard a click of a door somewhere in the loft.

“Eat,” he barely registered Suguru saying beside him. He didn’t move, had forgotten how to. The tidal wave was coming in too fast. Fight or flight had abandoned him to the secret third option. He was frozen, helpless. Just waiting for the bad thing to happen. Suguru softly sighed. Not because he was upset, but because he was worried. Satoru idly thought he’d rather him be angry. At least Satoru could do something with anger; he couldn’t do anything to alleviate Suguru’s worry. Couldn’t do anything to lessen anyone’s burdens at that point. The burdens he’d handcrafted and delivered to the people he cared most about.

A fork hovered in front of his face. “Just one bite. Can you do that for me, Toru?”

Tears pricked his eyes and burned his throat, but he unhinged his jaw. Suguru carefully, dutifully, slid the fork home. On automation, Satoru’s lips closed around it, and Suguru deftly slid the fork out. He held the food in his mouth, not really tasting it. His mind was too busy digesting information; he wasn’t sure his stomach could manage the job in this state.

“Just chew. Count to 10 and then swallow. I’m going to get us some water.” Suguru stood from the couch.

Intellectually, Satoru knew he wasn’t going far, but panic still seized control anyway. It was irrational; he was being far too emotional. Still, through labored breathing and a tremendous amount of effort, he did as Suguru had asked. He listened, keenly aware of Suguru’s movements as he rummaged through the cabinets for cups. Satoru picked up the fork and took another bite. He followed the same pattern. He chewed for 10 seconds, then swallowed. The tap sounded. He took another bite. By the time Suguru nestled back beside him, knees bumping, shoulders brushing, Satoru had cleaned his plate. He was not-so-slyly eyeing the food on Suguru’s plate.

Suguru smiled at him as he set the glasses down on the coffee table. “I knew you were starving.” He picked up his own plate and scraped half of his serving onto Satoru’s empty one.

“So are you, don’t do that! You need to eat, too.” Satoru tried to push the food back on Suguru’s plate, but he stopped him.

“I am eating. This much is fine, I want you to get your fill.”

Suddenly, Satoru was 14 again. He was sitting at the dining table in his aunt's apartment. Only about a month after his parents had died. He was starving; no amount of food could fill the hollowness inside him. He and Riko were going to the mat over the last serving of yaki udon. Riko won out in the end when she sneezed into the pot. Satoru was ready to combust. Ready to take everything he was feeling and weaponize it. Tear his cousin down until she felt exactly as he had.

His aunt intervened. She’d simply handed over her barely touched serving. She claimed she’d had a big lunch earlier. Satoru knew it wasn’t true, but selfishly scarfed it down anyway. He didn’t say thank you. Just left the table to retreat to his room and slammed the door. He hadn’t even cleared his placemat. He’d felt guilty, but he just did what he always did with his emotions back then. He wrapped it around his heart like a protective shield. Hell bent on not allowing himself to grow close to anyone. Family or otherwise.

Satoru scraped the helping back onto Suguru’s plate. “You eat it, I’m fine.”

Suguru watched him for a second, then nodded. “Okay.”

“Ru?”

Suguru had his fork halfway to his mouth, and he paused, angling his body toward Satoru. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I just don’t want anything left unsaid between us. It’s important to me that you know- that you hear it. That you know I-” Satoru closed his eyes. That I love you. The moment still didn’t seem right for that sort of proclamation, but no moment ever seemed right. “That I appreciate you.”

Suguru’s eyes softened. “I appreciate you, too. We’re in this together.”

A smile broke on Satoru’s face. It felt like the clouds were finally parting after the rainy season. He leaned over into Suguru’s space. The other man hastily put his plate down, bite forgotten on his fork. “Am I allowed to kiss you still? While the sun is up? Am I allowed to have this even when I’m not on the verge of breaking?”

Suguru huffed a laugh, trying for humor, probably, “You’re always on the verge of breaking. I think we both are.”

“Answer my question.” Satoru worried Suguru would say no. He worried the other would pretend last night hadn’t happened. For a moment, he was terrified that Suguru hadn’t really meant what he confessed. That he’d only said it as a means to calm Satoru down. 

Suguru’s throat bobbed when he tried to swallow. Satoru’s eyes dipped to watch before they gravitated back to the amber hues. “Yes. Anytime. Always. Under whatever condition.”

Satoru’s eyes fluttered closed, and he leaned forward, closing the last bit of distance. Feather-light, he pressed a kiss to the side of Suguru’s mouth. “Okay.” He couldn’t say it back. Not yet, but he could still offer his love in this way. Satoru wanted this to work: What they had between them. He wanted Suguru in every way, all of his facets, every last piece.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

When Otto returned, they’d already finished their food. Satoru had stolen only a couple bites off Suguru’s plate. Suguru couldn’t help himself, sharing with Satoru in that way, especially when he got to feed him. It felt so domestic. So right, the only right thing in a vast sea of dark wrongness. He was relieved to know that Satoru still wanted this, wanted him. Wanted to kiss him. Even with the sun shining outside. Even with dry eyes and a mostly clear head. Suguru loved him… and he wanted to believe Satoru loved him back. He wanted to hear the other say it, kept thinking it would happen. But it seemed that every time Satoru was about to utter the words, he would second-guess himself. Suguru wanted it to be clear and irrefutable. To know without a doubt that the want was mutual. To no longer be stuck in limbo, no longer damned to yearn for the rest of time. But if Satoru wasn’t ready, Suguru would respect that. Just as he’d said, Satoru didn’t need to say it back. Suguru still had a lot to prove, a lot of trust to earn back.

They had both decided to show Otto the suit. Doc had it laid out across the worktable like a surgical patient. Suguru and Satoru stood on either side. Stoic sentinels watching for the first telltale sign of danger. Doc tapped one of the fibers with a metal probe. It rippled like it was a living thing. Suguru was inclined to believe that at least part of its composition was. The suit was alive in a way that made Suguru all too nauseous to think about. He could feel its hidden eyes pinning him where he flanked Otto. Could imagine clearly the way it was sizing him up, taking stock of what made him tick.

“I couldn’t manage to cut through it. I was barely able to data mine it.” Suguru offered up his lack of findings.

It’s impressive tech, certainly. But anything made can also be unmade. We just need to find the right tools,” Doc said, ever the mentor. “Oh, boys, look at this.” He’d managed to pry a sliver of fabric away from the underlying mechanics. “Neural lattice. Biological. Reactive. Symbiotic.”

Satoru flinched, Suguru noticed. Neither said anything.

Doc continued, delighted, oblivious to the boys’ growing discomfort. “Ryomen Tech tried to hijack the organism’s higher functions- likely using neurochemical prompts. But the control protocols have failed; the organism is fighting back. What you have, dear boy, is a thinking organism trying to rewrite itself around you. Fascinating.”

“Hellish,” Satoru corrected softly, eyes screwing shut against the black inkiness writhing below Doc’s methodical prodding.

Suguru leaned in closer to the suit. It was alive, then, he was right. His skin crawled remembering the way it’d tried to seize him. Second host. “Can you fix it?”

Doc grinned. “Re-hijack it? Possibly. But I’ll need to take it back to my lab-”

“No,” both said immediately.

Suguru squared his shoulders. “It stays here. That’s our condition. If you want to work on it, you have to do it with us.”

Otto pressed his lips into a thin line. He studied both of them, back and forth. His eyes flickered with something resembling respect. “Very well,” he said. “I’ll have to go get some supplies, though. The lab downstairs doesn’t have the right tools. And it isn’t suited to confine something like this.” 

Suguru felt a rush of nausea. His breakfast threatened to make a reappearance. “We’ll keep an eye on it.”

Otto didn’t look convinced. Suguru couldn’t blame him. Otto put a hand over Suguru’s. “You cannot let it out of your sight, not for a second. It thinks for itself. Far more advanced than any AI I’ve encountered.”

“Yeah, we’re aware.” Satoru snapped and pulled Suguru back. Suguru couldn’t decipher the other’s expression. The muscle in Satoru’s jaw tightened; he looked pissed. His eyes were like daggers, and they were trained right on Otto, like he’d committed some grievous crime. The older man just smiled and shook his head, which only served to upset Satoru further. His grip tightened on Suguru’s arm. For a delirious second, Suguru thought Satoru might be jealous, but that couldn’t be right. He was just worried about the suit. 

“Could I put in a request?” Satoru asked, still with his hand clutching Suguru’s arm.

“Snacks? Soda? You name it.” Otto said, his smile brightening as he watched them both.

Satoru shook his head. His eyes narrowed, and he didn’t smile back. “Not exactly.”

One of Doc’s mechanical arms produced a notepad, another held a pen. “Just write it down, I’ll see what I can do.”

Satoru accepted the offering. He had to let go of Suguru, but he pressed close behind him, using his back as a flat surface to write on. He began scribbling items onto the notepad. He passed it back to Otto with little fanfare. When Otto examined the list, his eyebrows jumped. Suguru refrained from glancing over the older man’s shoulders. He’d asked Satoru himself, or he’d wait to be told. No more secrets, they had promised. His stomach somersaulted. There were still things he needed to tell Satoru. None of them are good. All he’d been through when he’d been forced to leave.

“Do you need anything?” It took Suguru a second too long to realize Otto was asking him. Too stuck in his own head.

“Um… just a change of clothes. Toiletries would be a plus.”

“You got it, kiddo.” Otto ruffled his hair. Satoru looked like he wanted to kill the man. Suguru waved Otto off and rolled his eyes. “I’ll bring back some clothes for both of you. Stay out of trouble.” Otto pushed himself out of the chair. “And pick up the phone when I call.”

“Okay, will do.” Suguru nodded and walked Otto to the front door. “Be careful out there.”

“No need to worry about me. That company knows I’m a walking PR disaster; they won’t do anything to me. Too many fail-safes in place.”

Suguru couldn’t tell if he was joking. Probably not. He’d been with Ryomen Tech for a while. Probably knew more than anyone the kind of dastardly experiments and programs they’d run in the past. He wondered if he knew anything about the files he’d pulled from their secure network the night before. He’d have to ask… Once he and Satoru had a chance to review them. It was only fair to let Satoru read them first. They had information about his parents after all.

“Still, just keep a lookout.”

“I will.” With a grin and a reassuring pat on the shoulder, Otto left them alone again.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Shoko sat in the waiting room. Her laptop long forgotten, discarded to the side when the battery had died. She really hadn’t thought she’d be here that long, had thought that Satoru would return in a flurry of madness and panic, borderline manic. But he hadn’t. He wouldn’t for a while, it seemed. She was worried, but she didn’t let it show. She rarely ever did. Her mask was formed of diamond, unbreakable in a sense she didn’t even understand. Hardened under the pressures of expectation, both inward and outward.

When the clacking of steps reached her, she solidified herself once more. A wave of relief rippled through her system as Utahmie stepped into the private waiting room. Shoko grinned lazily in her direction. Languidly, she pushed herself out of the chair and crossed the linoleum sea to reach her fiancé. “Yo,” she greeted as casually and unceremoniously as she did everything else in her life.

Utahime did not return her smile, nor her greeting. Shoko already knew without asking that she was upset, livid, even. Utahime often was. Shoko had memorized the set of the other woman’s jaw. The indentation that had been weathered into the center of her forehead, right between her eyebrows, from too many scowls. Shoko perceived easily, as if second nature, the way the other carried herself as she came into the room. Like a cotton blanket left to dry in frigid temperatures.

Shoko recognized this expression better than she registered her own reflection in the mirrors some days, most days, really. It was this exact look that first caught Shoko’s attention. It hadn’t been directed at her, never at her. Never once had Utahime stared at her with simmering heat behind her eyes. Shoko had only caught it by mistake, had only glanced at it momentarily in passing. But she was instantly enamored by it, summoned by it. There was enough of a pull there to compel Shoko to cross the quad and ask if the other wanted to get coffee sometime.

She was fascinated by the layer of emotion etched on the woman's face. Not flat at all, every feature had volume, some sort of substance that pulled Shoko right in. The look was now a familiar constant in Shoko’s life. She took a step back when it dawned on her. Who the anger was meant for this time. It was shocking to see something comforting turn against oneself. Her mask slipped, guttering like a candle in the wind.

“What’s wrong?” Shoko asked, tone slightly annoyed. That was the only tone she knew, typically. But it felt foreign to use towards Utahime. It tasted like sludge, something grey or neon green. Like something wrong and far past expiration.

Her love squared her shoulders. Exhaled, as if she’d been holding her breath the entire journey here. “I don’t get why you’re jeopardizing your entire future- again- for that menace.”

Shoko’s mask did not falter. Her tone fell flat and bored, as if they’d had this argument a hundred times already. That might be true. “He’s family.”

“He’s not worth this,” Utahime stated as easily as one would read facts from a textbook. “This is your future- our future. And you're throwing it away for some-”

“He is worth it. Besides, I’ve already contacted my professors. I can make everything up after break.”

“That’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

Utahime pinched the bridge of her nose and forced. Shoko imagined steam rolling out like a dragon. It would hang coily in the air, smelling of sulfur and other foul things. A reflection of this conversation. “You don’t see he’s taking advantage of you.” She knew Utahime was just looking out for her. But Satoru was a subject they’d never see eye-to-eye on. That’d never bothered her before, but it was crawling under her skin now. Utahmime’s shoulders drooped a little. “He always has, and you let him.”

“Hime,” still bored, still too flat, still wrong. “I think there’s a genuine crisis. Satoru wouldn’t abandon his cousin for just anything. And he always explains himself in the end.”

The woman across from her had a rebuttal already prepped. Shoko knew it’d hit with precision, and as always, she’d let the words glide right off of her. The counterargument never came, though. Instead, Utahime’s phone chirped from its resting place inside her purse. She rooted around for it. This didn’t offend Shoko; she knew the other was busy. That they’d circle back to this eventually. It was always like this.

Shoko stood and watched, waited for the circle to complete itself. Utahime would excuse herself. They’d share a chaste kiss and the other woman would turn heel and walk out. She’d promise to finish the discussion later. Shoko would sit back down and wait for it. That didn’t happen, though. Utahmie’s frown deepened. “Who is it?” The sentence didn’t turn up at the end like a question. Shoko wasn’t surprised.

“It’s Sue… she canceled on me.” The other turned her phone screen so Shoko could read.

Storm S.: hey sorry can’t make it. something came up

Another message pinged as Shoko read the first.

Storm S.: actually everything is fine. talk later!

Both women pressed their lips into identical thin lines. That was not Sue Storm. The cadence was wrong. The punctuation, the tone. Not to mention that woman never canceled a meeting. Not a single time. Even when she was sick and bedridden with the flu. She still managed to FaceTime. Sue’s dedication needed to be studied. She’d run herself into the ground and still find a way to show up for her brother. Johnny was a true lost cause. Shoko never really understood why Sue tried so hard, but it was probably the same reason Shoko continued to show up for Satoru. But Johnny never gave any of that effort back. It must be exhausting for Sue.

The two of them shared a look. Utahime’s was fear-stricken. Her face drained of color, forcing her scar to stand out starkly slashed across her features. Shoko’s was borderline incredulous, the best response she could manage. She had a terrible feeling that something awful was about to happen. Shoko hated feeling like this. It was useless. She couldn’t do anything to change it. The feeling sat heavily on her chest, and all she could do was grit her teeth and bear it.

“That’s not like her…” Utahime trailed off. Eyes wide. Shocked. Another perfect expression.

Not usually fond of prolonged physical contact, Shoko managed to shake her head and find the other’s free hand in the stretch of distance between them. Shoko squeezed, and Utahime didn’t let go. “Call the brother,” Shoko suggested, finding it within herself not to sound passive or bored. It was a bit of a relief. Though Utahime didn’t relax. If anything, Shoko’s tone dipping towards concern was more cause for alarm. She didn’t let that bother her. She was good at that and was well-practiced. Still, dread crept coily up her limbs.

Utahime nodded. “Right, Johnny.” She dropped Shoko’s hand, and that surprisingly did bother her. Just a pinprick of irritation. Just a jab of a butterfly needle. Then it was gone. Not even a phantom or echo remained. It’s not that she needed the physical contact, but something about this whole situation made Shoko want it. Utahime put the phone on speaker.

It rang six times before: “Yeah?” Johnny’s groggy voice spilled out of the phone.

“Have you seen your sister?” No pleasantries. No patience. At least that remained normal. Shoko could’ve smiled. She loved this woman. Loved that she only gave the positive to people she cared about. Loved that she expelled all of the negative for the rest of the world to bear.

“Iori?” Johnny’s voice was still coated in sleep and mild confusion. Shoko watched as her fiancé’s eyebrow twitched.

“Yes. Have you seen your sister?” She repeated the question.

“No, not since Monday morning. Didn’t come home. I assumed she left for the States early.” A shared glance. Shoko rolled her eyes. The other’s lip twitched. 

She sighed into the mic. “Johnny,” her voice was measured. Shoko was kinda shocked by the amount of patience she was able to dredge up on the spot. As if she wasn’t already scraping the bottom of the barrel. “Is there anything missing… from her room? Is there evidence of her leaving the country?”

“I don’t know,” came his tired, still half-asleep voice. It was well past noon, during midterms, and Johnny Storm was still sleeping. Christ, Utahime really had her work cut out for her. It would take a miracle to ensure this kid graduated on time. Again, Shoko didn’t understand why Sue tried so hard. Maybe part of Sue understood she’d never get through to him. Maybe that was the reason she was leaving Japan. A pang of sadness went through her at the thought. She’d never imagined Sue would give up.

Utahime's face contorted. “Go check!” She all but shouted down the line.

The boy groaned, but there was rustling on the other end, like he was fighting with the sheets to free himself. Like it was a labor to join the land of the living. Shoko supposed sometimes it was. She’d felt like that plenty of times. She always got up, though. She wondered idly what could make Johnny Storm feel that way. Probably partying too hard. Not the same. Not similar. Comparable in the way apples are to oranges. Maybe it was Sue leaving him. Shoko dismissed the thought. She didn’t have the capacity to analyze that any further.

They heard the opening of a door. The soft padding of feet as he made his way down a hallway. Another door opened. Shoko held her breath; she didn’t know why. Over the speaker, they heard the sounds of drawers scraping open, then shutting again. Another door, more fabric rubbing against itself as he searched. Belongings being shuffled about

“Nothings missing… well. Beside her purse and her dress flats. Nothing important is missing. Nothing she’d take with her if she were-” Johnny huffed out a breath. “Everything is here.” He made a sound that wasn’t a laugh, but it couldn’t be anything else either. It was wrong. And like nothing Shoko had ever heard from him. Too forceful, too short. Everything about it was wrong. Johnny was too carefree to make a sound like that. It’d be like Satoru screaming out in pain… like Satoru’s voice on the phone last night. She curled her fingers into fists, nails biting into her palms. This isn’t connected. I’m overanalyzing. Everything is fine. “What the hell is happening?”

Neither had any answers for him. Shoko’s stomach twisted. It was a foreign feeling. She worried, but never enough for a physical response. She didn’t think she was capable of that. Nothing had turned her stomach in years. She thought about Satoru’s phone call again. Maybe she should’ve been more worried and less irritated. “Okay,” Utahime breathed out. “Thanks, Johnny. I’ll call you later.” She didn’t wait for a reply, just ended the call. They blinked at each other. Shoko reached out for her hand again, but before she had a chance to grasp, they were interrupted.

“Ieri san?” Both women turned toward the intruder. “You’re allowed back now.”

She blinked, forgetting she was ever reaching for a hand to hold. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “Just… just give me a moment,” she was addressing Utahime, not the nurse. “Just… we’ll figure this out. I’ll make it up to you.” She sprinted after the nurse, who was quickly vanishing back into the ward she’d appeared from. Shoko did not glance back.

Both hers and the nurses' hurried steps echoed down the hall. Alerting everyone to their approach. She was halfway down when it occurred to her that she could’ve asked Utahime to stay. What she had to face might’ve been easier if she had someone by her side. Her stomach was still twisting over itself. Reworking itself, rearranging the vital organs inside. The small intestines swapping with the big. Her gallbladder displaced. Kidneys pinched together and traded places with her lungs. This was a panic response. She simply had to will it out of existence. Not acknowledge it until it grew tired and fucked off. 

She could do this. Face it alone. She’d always been alone to some extent. Had she asked Utahime to stay, she would’ve been inviting fear along as well. Everything was fine. She was okay, and Riko was safe. Nothing was wrong with Sue; she’d return to Johnny. Satoru and Suguru were fine. They were probably off somewhere, realizing how stupid they’d both been. The two of them were just making up for lost time; Shoko would cuss them out for it later. Everything was as it should be.

The nurse opened the door and ushered her in. The moment Shoko stepped inside, she felt it. Wrong. It was wrong. A growing theme she was not appreciating. Negating everything she’d just spent the last few minutes trying to convince herself. It was subzero freezing in the room. Not hospital cold, Shoko was used to that. Had trained in that. Hospital cold would have been a welcoming embrace. This was unnatural- wrong again. Like someone had opened a deep freezer and forgot to close it. Worse still. Worse than the cold of a morgue. The air shimmered with frozen air particles. They were held suspended mid-flight. Her breath fogged and crystallized before her. Her lungs inside her chest struggled. They ached with each inhale. The nurse did not comment on the room's atmosphere. She seemed almost in a trance.

A phantom stood beside Riko’s bed. They appeared as the grim reaper if he had a 9-5 in the city. Black, sleek suit, the complexion of bone hewn clean. They had pale white hair, akin to Gojo’s, but it was marred with a blotch of red. It sat at the exact back center of their skull like a bullseye, or a beacon. They did not move. They weren’t even facing Shoko, but somehow her skin still crawled as if their eyes still somehow tracked her.

Riko sat upright in the bed, smiling vacantly. Shoko carefully scooted in closer to the bed. It hurt to breathe. “Hey-” Shoko gasped. It hurt to speak. “How are you?” She whispered.

Riko blinked once. Slowly. A nurse breezed in. Different from before. “She’s on strong pain medication. Might seem foggy.” Still no comment on the state of the room. This nurse seemed in a trance, too. Voice almost robotic, movements choppy. She set a tray of food on Riko’s table.

Shoko looked at Riko over. Small frame swallowed by the bed. There were no indications of lacerations. No evidence of illness. Foggy. Medication. Riko looked untouched. No bruising. No swelling. Nothing that would warrant the lock and key act she’d been under. Nothing to support the need for a gag order. Nothing that should've prevented her from going home. And nothing to warrant the aforementioned pain medication

The stranger made their exit. Taking all of the cold with them. Shoko sucked in a deep breath. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Everything was wrong. Nothing made sense. She waited for the nurse to leave. Eyes hazed, the nurse fiddled with the IV, wrote something on Riko’s chart, then exited without any further instructions. Shoko stood from her perch on the bed and crossed the room. She turned off the lights. It was irrational, but it made her feel slightly better, more secure somehow. It tricked her brain into believing that the two of them could not be seen.

Riko’s eyes brightened in the darkness. Blue like her cousins, but also not. Both like oceans, one bright and clear, the other dark and murky. She’d never seen them alight like this. They’d always seemed too dark a color to light up so brightly. They were reflective in this dark. Like they’d transplanted tapetum lucidum. Like an animal at night. Shoko’s stomach was aching by this point, and despite the cold lingering in the air, she was sweating.

“Is it bedtime?” Riko asked. Small and innocent sounding. If Shoko had a heart (she was 87% sure she didn’t), it would’ve shattered then. She sounded lost and so unlike herself. Riko was a small girl, but she always took up space. Her presence was always known, even in a crowd. Now, in this diminutive state, Shoko barely recognized her for the girl she knew and had grown to care for. The girl Shoko considered family. There was no trace of her here in the dark, chilled room. That scared Shoko. What kind of sick-fuck would hurt an innocent kid? What had Satoru gotten mixed up in?

Shoko swallowed. She felt like she was going to be sick. Her gag reflex already working itself into a frenzy. “Yeah, I think it is.” Gently, she helped Riko settle back against the bed. Pulled the blankets up high and tucked her in tight. Riko’s eyelids fluttered shut. On instinct, she reached for the chart pinned to the foot of the bed.

BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA — HEAD & RIGHT SIDE

NEUROLOGICAL MONITORING REQUIRED

INTERNAL BLEEDING SUSPECTED

It was wrong. It had to be. There wasn’t a scratch on that girl’s body. Perfect specimen, base zero. Something had happened here. Something the hospital staff was hiding. Something to do with trust-fund grim reaper. Shoko exhaled shakily and put the chart back. Something was wrong. With Riko. With Satoru. Something happened, and Shoko was tired of waiting to be told the answers. She brushed a stand of hair away from Riko’s forehead.

“If I’m stuck here,” she murmured, “I’m finding out what they did to you.” Mind made up, jaw set, and heart pounding, Shoko stepped out of the room and back into the bright hallway.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

It’d been an hour or so since the Doc had left the boys alone. Satoru sat beside him on the couch. Their knees brushed, thighs pressed together. Suguru was watching the door, waiting for the moment the knob turned. He felt uneasy. Simply waiting for the next bad thing to happen. Helpless and diminished to a state where all he could do was let life happen to both of them. 

He was exhausted, but sleep continued to elude him. Every small noise made within the loft had his heart rattling out of his chest. Satoru didn’t seem to be faring much better. His steely sight was set on the monstrosity still writhing on the workbench. It hadn’t seemed to appreciate the doctor’s methodical proddings. Luckily for both boys, the suit remained pinned to its spot.

Suguru’s head hurt; it felt like his mind was trying to expand far past its skeletal confinement. Suguru wondered if this was what a migraine felt like. He’d never experienced one himself, but he’d soothed Satoru through plenty. Playing his role as the ever dependable dread companion. Until he didn’t- couldn’t anymore. Back when everything was on the brink of falling apart, back when he still held hope that distance would not stand in their way. He’d been right at least; it hadn’t been distance that had put the final nail in the coffin, it had been Suguru himself. Too weak and self-absorbed to pull himself back from a head-on collision with the dread that had been steadily building in his life.

His fingers pressed to the side of his temple as a flash of bright white pain blurred his vision. Maybe all he needed was a cigarette. He was certain Otto had a pack stashed here somewhere. This place was used during emergencies. What would a man need more than a cigarette at a time like this?

“What’s wrong?” Satoru’s voice broke through his thoughts. The other boy’s finger wrapped around Suguru’s wrist and gently tugged his hand away. He scootched closer to him, crowding into Suguru’s space.

“Nothing.” Suguru squeezed his eyes shut. “Just a headache.”

Satoru pressed his face in close, foreheads meeting softly. No teasing headbump this time. “Want me to kiss it better?”

Suguru’s lips stretched into a thin smile. “More than anything.”

Satoru didn’t kiss him, though. Instead, his eyebrows scrunched together. The other traced his thumb in loose patterns over Suguru’s temple. “There’s more bugging you.”

His eyes closed as he tried to focus on the movement of Satoru’s thumb. It was enough of a comfort to cancel out the anxiety building in Suguru’s sternum. Almost enough. He let out a breath, slow and easy. There was so much bothering him. So much that was out of his control. This was making him feel like a kid again. Like back when his mother was sick. So much terrified him. Thoughts of losing people he cared about. His own role in their fast-approaching demise. The past hung like a shroud around them both. He shook his head. There was simply too much subject matter to cover in one simple conversation.

“It’s nothing. Just a little tired.” Suguru sighed. 

Satoru sat back, his face twisted up in concern, completely unconvinced. “I’m not buying your bullshit. A promise is a promise, Suguru.” His lower lip wobbled, and Suguru’s heart strained in his chest. “We promised no more lies.”

Suguru ran a hand through his hair. It was now or never. “It’s everything, Toru. It all feels like it’s too big for us to handle. I’ve been running the scenarios and…”

A pause, breath caught in their throats. “What?” Satoru pressed.

“I don’t see how we make it out of this mess alive.”

“With each other. You said we could do it if we stand together.”

“I know what I said.” His tone sounded defeated even to himself. He truly didn’t see a way out of this for them, even with Doc's help. They couldn’t predict everything. Ryomen Tech, Star, whoever it was, someone would eventually outsmart them. Someone was bound to catch them off guard, sooner rather than later. He didn’t want to lose Satoru before he even got the chance to love him properly. The chance to make up for everything he’d ruined.

And there it was. The root of his problem. He was in love. And love makes people do stupid things, act rashly. Even his father, one of the most brilliant people he knew, fell victim to the ludicrosities of love. Suguru’s mind was clouded; he wasn’t thinking objectively anymore. He’d never been able to when it came to Satoru. And this was a bad situation; they were fucked six ways to Sunday. He couldn’t afford not to think objectively here; it could cost them their lives.

“Do you not believe in me?”

Suguru’s mouth fell open, and he turned sharply towards Satoru. “That’s not it at all.” The other said nothing, but he turned away slightly. “I believe in you, Toru. You’re one of the only people I willingly place my faith in. You have to know that’s true.”

“Then what changed? You were so serious the other night when you said we had no other choice but to do this together. That we’re stronger together.”

“I still believe that. It’s just… the fear got to me for a moment.” He reached for Satoru’s hand, but he pulled away quickly and stood. His whole body trembled again, and Suguru hated that he’d caused it, that there was nothing he could do to soothe it. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Satoru shook his head and stepped further out of Suguru’s reach. His stomach flipped over itself. He had to fix this, had to say the right thing. Suguru stood too, just to feel like they were on even footing.

He paced a line between the couch and the coffee table. His hands flexed uselessly at his sides. He grasped for words that wouldn’t sound like cowardice or prophecy. “Satoru, I-”

“No.” Satoru cut him off, voice sharp but trembling. “Stop trying to protect me from the truth. I’m not made of glass.” He turned abruptly to look straight at Suguru. His blue eyes burned like sapphires- not panicked, not spiraling. Satoru was focused. “I know we’re fucked,” he stated plainly. “I am aware how terrifying this all is. I know there’s a very real chance this all ends badly.”

Suguru didn’t know how to respond. Dread crept into all the hollow crevices of his body. He swallowed hard, still incapable of forming words or taking his eyes off Satoru. His temple throbbed in pain, but it fell to the background. The only acknowledgment of the pain was a slight tightening of his jaw.

“But,” Satoru continued, stepping closer, invading Suguru’s space deliberately, “What I don’t understand is why you think you have to face that fear alone.”

His mouth opened in rebuttal, but quickly snapped shut again. He was right. Completely, irrefutably right. This is exactly what Suguru had done before. He’d let the fear get the best of him, but even worse, he forced himself to face it alone. Even when he knew he didn’t have to. It’s because I deserve to suffer alone. All the things he’d done over the past four years. Every moral code broken, every line in the sand crossed. Every secret kept. It weighed on him; it tore him apart inside. 

He didn’t want to unload that on Satoru. He had enough heartache for one lifetime. Suguru didn’t want to know the other’s reaction. Couldn’t bear the idea that the person he loved would see him differently; would come to see him as a monster. He didn’t want to reveal who he'd become in the last four years, but he knew they could never truly be together if their foundation was built on lies.

Satoru reached out, grabbed the front of Suguru’s shirt, fist curling into the fabric like an anchor. Not desperate- decisive. “I love you,” he said. Not rushed. Not fragile or hopeless. “And I’m not saying that because the world is ending. I’m saying it because even if it is, I want you beside me while it burns.”

Suguru’s breath left him in a quiet, broken sound. Wet and rasping. “Toru-” He couldn’t do this. Not now. Not when there was still so much time standing between them. 

“No,” Satoru repeated, softer now. “You don’t get to dodge this. Not anymore. We promised.” The vice he held Suguru’s shirt loosened. His hand slid down until it found Suguru’s and laced their fingers together. Warm. Steady. “I’m choosing you,” Satoru asserted. “Right now. On purpose. The whole package. I want it all with you, Suguru. Fear, joy, pain, comfort. All of it.”

Suguru’s chest ached. His words had punched a hole right through his shields. The other boy didn’t know what he was agreeing to; what exactly he was asking Suguru to reveal. Satoru always had a way of breaking down his barriers. Suguru should’ve anticipated that now would be no exception to that rule. He cupped Satoru’s face with his free hand. Thumb brushed beneath a blue eye, Suguru was more than scared of the future. He was terrified of what it had in store for Satoru, worried that he would indeed shatter like glass.

But he had to tell him the truth. Because Satoru loved him. Was choosing him regardless of the outcome. He deserved to know everything. “I love you too,” Suguru whispered between them. “God, I really do, Toru. You have no fucking idea.” He leaned in so their foreheads touched. Deep breath. In. Out.

“Why does it feel like you’re about to reject me then?” Satoru’s voice was wispy; tears gathered in his lashes.

Suguru made a breathy sound, trapped in limbo between a laugh and a sob. He shook his head, loose onyx strands falling into his eyes. “No, not a rejection.”

“But it’s something bad?”

Suguru smoothed Satoru’s hair down and pulled back a little. “There’s still something we haven’t discussed.” His voice broke around the words. It felt like a frog was lodged in his throat.

“Suguru, just tell me,” Satoru demanded. “It can’t possibly be any worse than the shit show we’re in now.” He’d drawn back completely now. Standing closer to the suit than he had all morning, aside from when Doc was looking at it.

The distance already hurt. Satoru was already drawing a line. Suguru wasn’t suitably prepared for the fallout that resulted from this conversation. But he’d made his bed a long time ago. It was time to face the music. “Satoru, I’ve done things over the past four years that I’m not proud of.”

Satoru’s face scrunched up, like he didn’t understand what Suguru had just said. And he didn’t. He couldn’t understand until Suguru elaborated, laid out every awful thing he’d done. “Yeah, so have I. We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of.”

“No, you’re not listening. Let me finish.” He took a step forward, and Satoru took an equal step back. It caused him to bump into the work table. Satoru’s spine went rigid, but he kept his crystalline eyes trained on Suguru.

“You’re not telling me anything,” Satoru argued.

“I’m trying to!”

“Just spit it out for fuck’s sake, Suguru!” Something metal hit the ground behind him. Both boys turned to look. A tendril from the suit was thrashing violently. Satoru jumped away from the worktable, and Suguru surged forward to grab him. “Get off of me!” Satoru yanked his arm away, and Suguru stepped back, stunned. The suit settled a moment later, and both of them stood staring at it.

“I’m sorry,” Suguru broke the silence first.

“I don’t want your fucking apologies, I want the truth. I want you to tell me right now what the fuck is wrong with you.”

Suguru didn’t know what was wrong with him. He stood without saying anything for a long pause. His eyes were trained on the suit. He was worried the suit would lash out and try to take one of them again. After another minute of Suguru standing there slack-jawed, Satoru let out a bitter laugh. “This is so fucking typical. Things get real, and you clam up immediately.” He ran his hands through his hair. He looked defeated more than he looked angry. Suguru’s heart sank because Satoru was right. This was exactly what he did every time things got slightly difficult. “I’m not waiting for you to run away this time when I turn my back. I’m fucking done, Suguru. I’m leaving first this time.” He walked away into the bedroom.

This was awful. He hadn’t even said anything yet. And Satoru was going to leave. He was going to put himself in danger. Suguru ran to the bedroom. Satoru was rooting through the dresser for something suitable to wear outside. There wasn’t really anything here. The clothes Suguru had found the night before were the ones in the best condition. “Satoru, wait.”

No response. The other boy continued his search, pulling out all the clothes from the dresser until there was a mountain of destroyed garments beside him. Satoru ran his hands through his hair, making it stick up in crazy directions. “I can’t do this with you again, Suguru. You need to figure yourself out and leave me out of it.”

“Where are you even going? It’s not safe to leave.”

“It’s none of your business.”

Suguru knew where he’d go. It wasn’t hard to figure it out. Satoru would go straight to the hospital. Where Star and her goons probably lurked, waiting for him to return to his cousin. Suguru was really going to be sick this time. The thought of Satoru being captured, the idea of what Ryomen Tech would do with him once they had him again. It was all too much. “Toru, please don’t go. Let me explain.”

Satoru whirled on him. It was all too similar to their confrontation back at Satoru’s apartment. He advanced towards Suguru, shoving him back out of the room. “Don’t call me that. You had your chance to explain. I’m done waiting around.”

He had to do something. He couldn’t let Satoru walk outside this loft. He would die. Suguru knew it was true. Satoru would be captured and experimented on until his body gave out. He would die, and it would be a direct result of Suguru’s failure. “I wanted to come home for Christmas.”

Satoru didn’t stop his pursuit. He pushed Suguru back into the living room. “Yeah, well, you didn’t.”

“I tried.”

“Obviously not hard enough.”

“Toru- Satoru, I tried. My father wouldn’t let me go. We were working on a cure, and he needed me there.”

“He couldn’t spare you for a few days? What, your inexperience in the field was too valuable to let you go see your friends for the holidays? What could he have possibly needed you for?” He shoved again, this time with more force. Suguru tripped over the couch, but he scrambled to his feet again and caught Satoru’s wrists, wrestling to hold him still.

“He needed me there. Needed…” It made him sick to think about. “My father was graphing my DNA in hopes of finding a cure.”

Satoru paused, and confusion dominated his features. “Why the hell would he do that?”

“Because I’m a carrier. I have the mutation, too. But it’s inactive. He was hoping to learn why and replicate it so he could stop its progression in my mother.” Suguru took a deep breath.

“He was using you? His own son?” Blue eyes blinked back at him.

Suguru nodded. “But I wasn’t enough.”

“You can’t put that on yourself, Suguru.” Satoru’s eyebrows pinched together in concern. “You’re one person. You shouldn’t have even been-”

“No, I know. I mean I wasn’t enough data. He needed a bigger sample pool.”

“What does that-” He shook his head, horrified as he connected the dots. “What did he do?”

“We brought in a larger sample size.” Suguru let go of the other’s wrists and took a step back. “My father used his ties with Ryomen Tech to access people’s medical records. We brought in people from all over, both those who were suffering from the disease and others who were like me.” 

“So what? Clinical trials happen all the time. It’s part of finding a cure.”

“These weren’t just clinical trials, Satoru. They were worse. Crossed ethical boundaries. We weren’t helping them. We were using them to find a cure for her. Just her.”

Satoru’s jaw muscle tightened. He took in a shaky breath. “Stop lying to me. You would never do that.”

“I did, and that was only the start of it.”

“Why didn’t you reach out? I would’ve helped. You could’ve run away, back home to Japan. I would’ve taken you in.”

“I couldn’t leave. Even though what my father was doing wasn’t directly overseen by Ryomen Tech, we still had to follow their security guidelines. No one could leave the facility without clearance. My father still needed my DNA, so I was never granted that permission.”

“So they just held you prisoner?” Satoru took a step forward, but he looked conflicted. He didn’t bridge the gap between them, and neither did Suguru.

“Considering how the other subjects were being treated, I’d say I was a far cry from a prisoner. I was more of a lap dog. I did as I was told. Kept my head down. I was collared, but I wasn’t in a cell. I could go anywhere I wanted in the facility. I had access to all of the data stored there. I had that degree of freedom, and I did nothing to fight back.”

“Suguru, you were a child. You'd barely turned 18. They were using you.”

“No, I was a coward. When Ryomen Sukuna visited the facility, he forced my father into retirement. The lab wasn’t profitable, and while my father was brilliant, I guess even Sukuna couldn’t justify keeping the lab afloat just to appease Kenjaku.”

“When did that happen?”

“Two years ago.” His words caught in his throat. “Nine months before my mother died.”

“Why didn’t you return then? Or even after your mother died? Why didn’t you contact me?”

“Because I’m a coward, Satoru. I was scared of the consequences of going against him. Sukuna had decided that if he couldn’t keep Kenjaku, he’d keep the next best thing.”

“He held you against your will? That doesn’t make you a cow-”

“Not exactly. Yes, he wanted collateral. My father couldn’t turn on him if he had me under his thumb. But I went willingly. I’d already spent two years desensitized to the fucked up shit that went on in that company. I couldn’t come back here and face you and Shoko knowing what I’d done. It was easier to stay rather than fight.”

Satoru’s lashes were clumping together from unshed tears. Suguru hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet. “I don’t understand. You could’ve left, but you didn’t?”

Suguru closed his eyes, but that only made things worse. Behind his lids replayed some of the worst moments of his life. “It’s not that simple. I could’ve left, but Ryomen Tech would’ve overshadowed everything. I had to wait to leave on the right terms. Had to prove to a certain degree that I was loyal.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I stayed to help with a military program that was underway. They wanted to create…” Suguru trailed off. He couldn’t relive those memories. He didn’t want to look too closely at how they were related to everything happening now.

“They wanted to create what?” Satoru had tucked himself behind the island in the kitchen. Had put a league of distance between them. His arms were wrapped around his torso, hugging tightly. Suguru stared for a minute. This wasn’t how he wanted to remember Satoru. He didn’t want this to be their last conversation.

“They wanted to create the perfect soldier.”

Satoru braced himself against the island. His eyes were wide as he stared absently past Suguru. Tears fell from his waterline in thick droplets. “The perfect weapon,” he whispered.

Suguru was rooted to the spot. He did not think that Satoru wanted his comfort. But his chest ached with want; with the need to wrap Satoru in his arms and pull him in close. “I don’t think it was part of the same program that…” He choked on the words. Plausible deniability tasted rotten. It didn’t matter. “I don’t think we created your spider.”

“But it was the same idea?”

Suguru looked down at his socked feet. “I assume so.”

“What did you do?” It was the accusation Suguru had feared.

“I- There was a man.” Suguru tucked his hair behind his ear, trying to string together words that would make sense. “I’m not sure where they got him. They were always the same. People with barely a penny to their name. Needed money to feed their families. Poverty makes a person desperate."

“Stop.” Satoru stepped out from behind the counter. “I don’t want to hear anymore. I need… I need a moment.”

Suguru shook his head. “If I don’t tell you now, Satoru, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.”

His eyes passed between Suguru and the front door. He squared his shoulders. “Why tell me this now?”

“Because you said you love me. And you deserve to know the full truth.”

Satoru looked like he’d been struck. “So you were just waiting for a bargaining chip? I told you I loved you, so now you can dump all of your shit on me?”

“No, God, Satoru, no.” His hands ran fitfully through his hair. “I’ve wanted to tell you. But this isn’t the sort of thing you just-” He cut himself off, frustrated with his lack of communication skills. “There was never a right time to tell you this!”

“Tell me what? That you willingly experimented on someone? Took advantage on a person who was down on their luck? What, Suguru tell me? Did you starve him into compliance? Did you threaten his family? Did you oversee his torture? What did you do?”

“For fucks sake, Satoru-”

“No! I’ve been on the other side of that scenario. What the fuck was going through your mind? How could you fucking do that?” Satoru was seething now. His chest was rising and falling in rapid succession. His face had gone red with exertion. “I don’t want the fucking details of what you did. I want to know why you did it.”

“Because I had no choice!”

“So did you go willingly, or did you have no choice? Which part is the lie, Suguru?” Another loud clang ricocheted through the room. Both of their attentions snapped back to the suit. It was moving again. Pulling against its feeble restraints.

“You need to calm down,” Suguru said, lowering his own voice. 

“You don’t get to tell me to calm-” One of the bolts came undone from the work table. The suit was growing more agitated.

“It’s reacting to you, Satoru.” Suguru carefully moved closer to the table. “It senses your distress.”

Still not quelled, Satoru spout, “Yeah? And whose fault is that?” Another bolt popped loose. At this rate, the suit would be roaming free in just a matter of minutes.

“I know it’s my fault, and I’m sorry. Satoru, you don’t know how sorry I am. But if you don’t calm down, it will attack us.”

“Good. Let it. Anything to get me away from you.”

His temper slipped its leash. “This isn’t a joke! It will kill you. You need to focus, now!”

Satoru ground his teeth, and his nostrils flared. He stepped back into the livingroom, moving closer to the front door. “Fine. But I’m still waiting for my answer.” Satoru turned away from Suguru, away from the suit. Suguru’s pulse spiked. He thought Satoru was going to run out the front door.

“Satoru, don’t!” He roared as he lunged across the room. He landed hard on the ground and fell short of reaching his goal. He’d bit his tongue; he could taste the blood. His ears were ringing from the impact. He had to blink a few times to clear his vision. Satoru had turned around. He stared at him wide-eyed. His mouth hung open, and he appeared to be horror-stricken.

“Suguru,” he said quietly, but the panic was evident in his voice.

“What?” He groaned. He couldn’t move. He thought he might be bleeding somewhere. It felt like he was lying in a puddle of blood, all warm and sticky. His senses were dulled, and his mind struggled to catch up with his body.

“The suit.”

His face scrunched in confusion. It took a moment to process what Satoru had said. The suit. Realization dawned, and panic set in. Something was constricting his legs, preventing him from moving. “Satoru-” He groaned again. The suit climbed up his body. It felt like a million leeches latching on to him. “Run! If- Run! It’ll kill you!”

Satoru did the opposite of what Suguru told him to do. Instead of running away, the idiot dropped to his knees beside Suguru. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Please.” Suguru cried. The suit was already making its way up his chest. He didn’t know how Satoru was able to withstand this thing; he had no idea how to fight back.

“No. Don’t ask me again.” Satoru’s tone was stern. He wasn’t going to leave. The suit would overtake Suguru, and then it would use him to kill the only person he ever loved.

 “I’m sorry,” Suguru was crying now, to the point of hyperventilation.

“Suguru, breathe, it’s going to be okay.”

“It’s not. We’re going to die.” 

“Don’t say that.” Satoru was trying to pry the suit away from him, but it wasn’t working. It continued its advance, reaching his collarbones now. “Stay with me, you need to calm down. Where’s the stun device?” 

Suguru screwed his eyes shut; the pain was getting to be unbearable. “I kept it.”

“Kept it where?” Satoru pleaded with him. His hands were underneath Suguru now, trying to roll him over. “Tell me, please!”

“I wore it every day.” Suguru was teetering on the edge of delirium. He couldn’t understand why Satoru wasn’t leaving him to his fate. He needed to get out of here.

“The stun device?” Satoru smacked his cheek. “Hey, open your eyes. Tell me where it is.”

“The ring. I wore it every day.” The suit constricted around his shoulders, and he hissed in pain. “I found yours.”

“Suguru, now isn’t the time. Where is the stun device?” Satoru waited only a second more before he pushed to his feet. Suguru didn’t know where he was going. He hoped he was finally listening. That Satoru had a bit of sense left in him, that he’d choose self preservation for once in his life. Suguru didn’t know what would happen once the suit fully took over. Wasn’t sure if it would immediately seek Satoru out. If that were the case, Satoru needed to go now, to put as much distance between himself and Suguru as possible.

Satoru dropped down beside him again. The suit had already made it up past Suguru’s jaw. “This will hurt.” He’d already pointed the device at Suguru’s chest and pulled the trigger by the time his sentence ended.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

The same thought persisted the further Shoko trekked into Tokyo General. It was all far too clean. Ideally, hospitals were always neat and tidy, but there was always grime somewhere if one knew where to look for it. Shoko knew where to look, but still, she found nothing. No bed unturned, no sink unscrubbed. Even all of the triage areas were organized and well-kept. Not a single file out of place, as if none of these nurses and interns had ever experienced a rush hour.

Shoko had noticed this unusual level of cleanness for the first time standing at Riko’s bedside while the girl blinked through the fog of painkillers and asked if it was bedtime yet. Hospitals were supposed to feel lived in- scuffed linoleum, overworked nurses, the soft chaos of humanity pressing against sterile walls. Tokyo General didn’t feel that way at all- it felt curated. More like an exhibit than an actual hospital. That feeling hadn’t dissipated since she set foot in that room.

Now hours later, Shoko sat alone in the staff lounge with a cooling cup of coffee and her laptop open, eyes unfocused as she stared through the screen rather than at it. Riko’s chart was still fresh in her mind- too fresh, like a blister she couldn’t stop poking.

Blunt force trauma: Right side of head

Neurological impairment

But no visible contusions.

No swelling.

Not a single imaging discrepancy on record-

On record… but what if…

Shoko took a slow sip of her coffee and smiled. Burt. Imperfect. So there’s something. If coffee can be burned, scans could be doctored… Something in the girl’s chart must’ve been altered. But why Riko? What was Satoru not telling her? She closed her laptop and leaned back in her chair, rubbing a hand over her face. Something has been edited. She knew it had to be true. She hadn’t been allowed back into Riko’s room after that first visit. Not formally denied- just delayed. Doctor’s orders. Observation window. Come back later.

But later never came.

Shoko stood. She didn’t bother with putting her coat back on. Just tucked her hands into the pockets of her scrubs and walked- not toward Riko’s ward, but pointedly away from it. Hospitals talked if one would just listen long enough to hear the chatter around them. The nurses’ station near the elevators was busier than the one near Riko’s ward- shift change was approaching from the looks of it. Voices overlapped, the low murmur of shared exhaustion. Shoko slowed her pace, stopping near the supply cabinet under the pretense of checking her phone. She didn’t even glance at the screen.

“...I’m just saying, it’s weird,” one nurse muttered. “That patient from two nights ago, the one who came in from the break-in.” Shoko’s spine straightened.

“Which one?”

“The young girl. Amanai. No family allowed except the first visitor. Pain meds at levels that don’t match presentation. And that consultant-”

“-Oh my god, that guy,” a third voice cut in. “Yeah. I’ve never seen him sign off on anything that fast.”

Shoko’s fingers curled around her phone. “Who is he?” Someone asked.

“Not hospital staff,” the first nurse replied. “Came in under special clearance. Black suit. Weird ass hair. Didn’t give a name.”

“I thought they were a woman?”

Cold slid down Shoko’s back. Sounded like hedge-fund grim reaper. “Does it matter? They don’t talk to anyone. Just comes in to do what’s asked… They overrode imaging reports,” another nurse said quietly. “Just… flagged them as unnecessary.”

“That’s not protocol.”

No,” the first nurse agreed. “It’s not.”

Shoko turned away casually, before anyone could notice her standing still too long. Her pulse was steady. Her breathing even. The anger didn’t spike- it just settled inside her. Dense and deliberate, like the unheated contents of a lava lamp. She knew this kind of interference. Someone was managing the narrative.

She moved with purpose now, soles clicking softly against tile as she headed for the administrative wing. She didn’t know the person’s name yet, but clearance left trails- permissions, overrides, electronic fingerprints. And Shoko was very adept at following bloodless trails. She ducked into an empty office and closed the door behind her, locking it. Laptop open, fingers moving.

Consultant access logs.

Override credentials.

External affiliations.

There…

A file stub. Redacted title. Temporary clearance issued less than 48 hours ago. Not hospital-issued. Shoko exhaled through her nose. “Found you.”

She didn’t know yet what this had to do with Satoru. Or the way Riko’s eyes had looked at her — unfocused, distant, like she was halfway somewhere else. But she knew this: Whatever had touched Riko hadn’t left marks. And whoever was responsible thought that meant they were safe. Shoko cracked her knuckles and leaned closer to the screen. They were wrong.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Shoko stared at the screen for a long time. It was one thing to suspect something was wrong. It was entirely different to have those beliefs reinforced by indisputable evidence. She’d have to talk to Utahime. Shoko probably needed all the help she could get, considering the boys were still MIA. Her thoughts turned to the near argument she’d had with Utahime. Slowly turning over the words until, with a start, Shoko remembered that Satoru and Suguru weren’t the only ones that were missing.

What did Sue Storm have to do with anything? What connections are there? Shoko thought for a moment. Martin Li. Prominent in the green-energy sector. Sue’s boss. Suguru’s could-be-mentor… Johnny. Satoru’s friend from photography club… probably not important. Space internship at NASA. Any connections?... Shoko could not think of any. She shook her head; this line of thought wasn’t getting her anywhere productive… Nothing connected back to Riko.

She glanced again at the access log.

External clearance.

Temporary authority.

Overrides stacked like dominoes.

No name. Not even a fucking signature.

Just a string of identifiers and a signature protocol that didn’t belong at Tokyo Gen. She should have stopped there. Maybe alerted the authorities. She could’ve just called Satoru, told him what she had found, how uneasy it made her feel. It would be sensible to have stopped. The point where you document, report, and escalate. Through the proper channels. It would be stupid to risk her own license and future over this. Other people could take it from here, far more qualified than she.

But Ieiri Shoko had never been particularly good at stopping. She copied the file. No forwarding it to a proper channel. She didn’t flag it in their system. She copied it. The system interface momentarily read -New Tokyo General System - NOT RESPONDING- but finally it complied. Her mouth twitched. There you are, she thought. I felt you watching.

She closed the laptop without logging out and slipped it under her arm. The hallway outside the office was quiet. Too quiet. Late afternoon lull, staff shuffling between cries, everyone assuming the worst danger had already passed. It hadn’t. Shoko didn’t head back towards the nurses’ station. She turned instead toward the restricted wing- the one Riko had been moved away from, not into. The elevators chimed softly as she pressed the call button, then paused.

No.

She pivoted towards the stairwell. It was the better option here. Each step down felt like a decision she wouldn’t be able to undo. Her badge still worked- swipe, green light, door unlocked- and the alone made her teeth ache. Whoever had arranged this hadn’t thought to lock her out yet. Probably hadn’t anticipated she’d do more than wait around. Certainly hadn’t thought she’d risk this much for another person. The Shoko on the outside, the inscrutable mask, wouldn’t put her neck on the chopping block. But something was wrong. Something had been done to her family. Chosen over blood anyday. They weren’t fucking around with anyone anymore. This ended now.

She reached the floor marked OBSERVATION and slowed. The air changed down here. Cooler. Drier. The hum of machines replaced the ambient noise of the hospital above. Lights buzzed faintly overhead, just a fraction too bright. She passed a glass panel and stopped. Inside was an empty room. Not a patient room- no bed, no IV stand- just a chair, bolted to the floor, and a bank of monitors darkened, waiting.

Shoko’s stomach tightened. Not for the first time in the last 48 hours, she felt a true sense of nausea wash over her. She kept moving. At the end of the hall was a door she hadn’t seen before. She’d never had to go this far for any of her clinicals. It bore no signage. No department label. Just a keypad and a palm scanner. Too high-tech and out of place for the near-basement level of the hospital.

She shouldn’t. She knew that. Whatever lay beyond this threshold was not meant for her eyes. There’d be no turning back once the door had been unsealed. She was Pandora, and this was her jar, her box, her door to every horrible thing mankind had yet to endure or experience. Fuck mankind.

Instead of doing the rational thing, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She brought up the copied file. The access protocol glowed on the screen- temporary clearance keys designed to expire quickly. She held it up to the scanner. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then the light turned green. The door slid open with a soft, welcoming hiss. Shoko took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come, then she stepped inside.

The room beyond was dim, illuminated by screens lining the walls. Medical readouts scrolled in slow, steady rhythms- heart rate, neural activity, chemical markers she recognized, and some she didn’t. One monitor was labeled simply:

SUBJECT: A. RIKO

STATUS: STABILIZED

OBSERVATION: ACTIVE

Shoko’s breath caught. There were no cameras pointed at a bed. They were pointed inward- at something else. She took one more step forward. The door sealed shut behind her. The sound was quiet, but final. Shoko didn’t move. Her pulse remained steady. Her mind catalogued exits; it was quick work. The only one had just sealed shut behind her. It moved on to options and consequences. That took longer, for an infinite amount was blooming from worst-case scenarios to even worse. She was painfully aware that she had just placed herself exactly where someone didn’t want her to be.

“Okay,” she said softly to the empty room. “So that’s how it is.”

One of the screens flickered. A new window opened.

ACCESS DETECTED

UNAUTHORIZED USED.

Shoko smiled- thin, sharp, entirely humorless. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I figured.” She didn’t know yet who would come through the door. She only knew this: If they thought she would walk away now, they had never met her properly. And if this was what had been done to Riko- Shoko’s jaw set -mid-terms didn't matter, her parasocial relationships didn't matter: This was bigger than her, bigger than everyone, Shoko was just past the point of caring what meddling would cost her.

Chapter Text

? ? ?

When Sue woke, she didn’t recognize her surroundings. There was breathing present that wasn’t hers. It took her a while to figure out it was the room. A low mechanical rhythm pulsed through the walls- inhale, exhale, inhale- too steady to be human, too intimate to be machinery. The lights above her were dimmed to a sterile twilight, not dark enough to rest, but not bright enough to orient herself either. It took a while for her mind to catch up, to remember what had happened to her and the others. Her wrists were strapped down. Not tightly enough to bruise. Just enough that when she tested them, they answered back with quiet, unyielding resistance.

Sue had lost track of time. At the beginning, when she came to she obsessively watched for any details indicating the passage of time. She tried to memorize rotation schedules for the attendants. Attempted to gleam any meaning out of the cups of water that were distributed. Cataloged each time her IV drip was checked. But none of it meant anything. The orderlies kept her in a fog, medication too strong to fight against. Sue couldn’t discern if they’d only been there for a few hours, or if days had passed since their capture.

The metal surface below her never warmed. It remained constant in its chill, to the point where her skin was starting to burn on contact. For now, the lighting remained low-lit, akin to hospital corridors after visiting hours. However, this was not the case all the time. At random, the brightness would increase. Sue would try to cover her eyes in those moments, but her hands remained restrained. The best she could do was shut her eyes tight against the blinding force. It made for a disorienting time. Still, Sue did her best to keep track of what she could.

She assumed there had to be a pattern in the attendant’s rotation, but each time she was met with a different face. All of them wore the same outfit: Off colored red scrubs, with long white sleeves beneath the top, black tennis shoes (all the same style), and all of them wore hair nets. That was an odd addition to the uniform considering none of the attendants wore any sort of facial coverings. All of them were of a similar, if not identical build and height with shockingly similar features. If Sue didn’t know better, she’d assume they were all clones of each other.

Each one had a distinct feature, though. One, Sue recalled, had a mole on their chin. Another had striking purple eyes. While the most recent attendant to visit had missing ring fingers on each hand. They’d seemed surgically removed, which made Sue’s stomach turn over. There was something about their similar characteristics that nagged at her though. They all remind her of someone, but she wasn’t sure who. Her brain was already overworked as it was, this didn’t seem important enough to dwell on.

From Sue’s vantage, she could see three windows. One in front of her, and one to either side. All three looked in on the holding chambers surrounding hers. She couldn’t see what was situated behind her, but she assumed there was at least a door leading outside of her containment block. An open room was all she saw from the front window, shadows passed intermittently, but she couldn’t make out anything beyond that. Itadori was to the left, and Kamo to the right. Both were positioned to face her. 

Kamo’s attendants had to sedate him quite a few times already. Each time he woke up he’d thrash against the restraints, demanding to be placed with his brother. At least that’s what Sue thought he was shouting about, she couldn’t hear much through the glass. Itadori stared blankly ahead. Not at her exactly, but somewhere beyond. Every once in a while he’d try to pull against his restraints when no one was in there with him. He’d snapped an ankle restraint shortly after he first woke up. Guards swarmed his cell immediately. New, stronger restraints were placed and Itadori had been sedated.

Light flooded her room. “Adjusting well?” A voice sounded behind her.

None of the attendants ever spoke, they barely made any sound at all. Sue did not recognize this voice though. She didn’t bother turning around to look. The drugs infiltrating her system had an effect on her fear response. Sue was scared, but her body’s natural responses were stunted. The feeling choked her; breath caught in her throat, but her heart beat didn’t spike. Her body felt foreign and heavy, her mind disconnected. Sue wasn’t in control of herself. Anxiety ballooned, but it had nowhere to go. She had the urge to cry, but couldn’t. Synapses failed to fire. It rendered her completely powerless.

The person came into view, face concealed in profile by their long blueish-gray hair. They stood for a while with their back turned to Sue off to her left.  Their posture was relaxed, with one hand propped on their hip, they seemed to be watching Itadori. “What do you suppose is hidden in this kid?”

Sue didn’t respond again. Dread tried to root itself in her stomach, but it felt off its mark. The fog of the medication pushed itself in instead. After a few prolonged seconds of silence, the mystery person finally turned to face her. His eyes gleamed with a sick, feverish sort of delight. It took Sue a long second to process what her eyes were seeing. The man’s face. He had stitches covering its surface. The skin pigments for each section were all slightly different, but followed a theme of sickly pale. Her eyes closed and she swallowed down a scream, jaw tightening to the point her teeth ground together.

“Still under pretty deep then.” The man shrugged. “Kaido has high hopes for you Miss Storm. He wants you to excel in this program, and believes rather deeply that you’ll be the one to outlive everyone else.”

“What are you saying?” The words were barely above a whisper. Lodged somewhere deep behind the scream still burning in her chest.

The man turned back to Itadori. “My money is on this one. He has a fighting spirit to him. He’ll hold out through all of the tests, grit his teeth and survive.” He faced Sue again, smiling like a kid on Christmas. It was horrifying.

Sue was horrified. She swallowed the panic.“What do you mean?” She demanded, fighting against the brain fog. “Outlive all the rest? What are you doing to us?”

He turned to face her again, face distorted with an open mouth grin. He licked his lips as his eyes roamed over her body. “Hmm… You seem like quite the fighter, too. You’re acclimating faster than projected. This could be fun.”

“Tell me what the hell is going on here!” Movement caught her eye behind the man. Itadori was fighting against his restraints again. Sue averted her gaze so she didn’t draw attention to him. “This was supposed to be a tour. Why are you holding us here?”

“You saw quite a bit of the facility, more than most ever will. You got your tour, now we get ours.”

“You’re going to experiment on us… You’re researching something specifically to… to what? Advance mankind?”

He licked his lips again. “You catch on quickly, maybe I’ll switch my wager. I might’ve underestimated you… I guess Kaido did select each candidate with care afterall.”

A chill ran down her spine. She still wasn’t getting anything useful out of this man. “What were we selected for?”

He stepped closer. Her pulse jumped to her throat. The drugs were no longer suppressing her fear. “Kaido strives for adaptation, I think. I’m here more for the discovery.”

Sue’s eyes flicked to the glass. Itadori had managed to break a wrist restraint. Her gaze settled on the man as she forced her features to remain neutral, but a chill went down her spine from the words. “You grabbed a bunch of students and strapped us to tables…” Movement from Itadori attempted to draw her, but she kept her attention carefully trained on the one in front of her.

Yes,” he agreed, smiling more. “And?”

Her heart hammered in her chest. What would Itadori do if he managed to break free of the rest of his restraints? “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, but we do. We know exactly what we’re doing. What we don’t know yet is if you’ll survive it.”

Her eyes widened. Itadori stood at the glass now and her breath caught despite herself. “You can’t do this! It’s illegal!” She tried to argue.

“Nothing truly great can ever be accomplished by playing by the rule book, Miss Storm.” The man stepped closer to her, blocking Itadori from view. She didn’t know if the boy had a plan, but she hoped against all odds that if he did, it would work.

“No. You don’t get to bend the rules. This isn’t right.” The man did not stop his pursuit. A steady pressure began to build at the base of her skull. Her thoughts started to cloud, stronger than before, even with the drugs. “You don’t get to-”

“We aren’t bending. Anything. We’re writing a new rule book. A better one. Heroes never change the world; they only uphold the status quo. We seek to shatter it.” The man placed his hand over Sue’s face. The pressure intensified. “You’re friend Geto understood. That’s why he ran.” He said softly, like he was speaking to a child. “He doesn’t want to help bring in a new world order.”

Her blood ran cold, she clenched her jaw. “What did you do to him?”

The man’s fingers dug into her skin. “Nothing,” he said, voice still soft and sweet. “Yet.”

Her pulse roared in her ear and the pressure in her head built to a screaming crescendo. “What about-”

Itadori’s window shattered. Alarms blared. The man was tackled to the ground. “Get your hands off her!” Itadori snarled.

The pressure relented. Enough for full thoughts to form. Geto ran. Itadori broke free. Sue squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to that shred of hope. This wasn’t over. They could still get out of here.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Tuesday October 13th

Satoru was on his side curled in the far corner of the loft nearest the back exit. He couldn’t stop shaking, or whimpering. He felt pathetic and small. Satoru hadn’t been able to do anything for Suguru. He’d found the stun gun, but it didn’t work. Satoru knew he’d hit his mark because Suguru screamed out in pain… or maybe it was the suit. He wasn’t entirely sure. A spindle from the suit had shot out and pushed Satoru back into this corner.

Now he was too scared to move, too terrified to see Suguru engulfed by that monster. And it was all his fault. He’d let his emotions slip. Satoru couldn’t face what he’d caused. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, the loft had gone dark and cold again. The silence was the worst of it. He didn’t know what lurked there. He’d already decided that calling Doc was out of the question… He didn’t know his number, and he didn’t think having Otto here would make him feel any better. 

Satoru was still hesitant to put his trust in the newcomer. It didn’t particularly matter to Satoru that Suguru had known him for years. Satoru wasn’t convinced Suguru was capable of making good choices at this point in time. A pang of guilt rang out at the thought. Satoru didn’t really think that. He knew Suguru, knew what the other carried in his heart. Though he didn’t understand Suguru’s choices, he could try to put in the effort. He hoped that he got that re-do. Satoru wanted to believe they’d make it out of this horrible situation. He needed the chance to make it right. He’d listen and process better next time, and there’d be no alien-demon-suit hybrid trying to kill them. Well, trying to kill him.

That was the suit’s next move right? It successfully bonded with Suguru. Now it needed to eliminate the primary host so the function would be complete. That is what happened. It took Suguru over. Bonded him, whatever. Why hadn’t it attacked yet? Satoru was going to have to move. He had to check on Suguru. It had to have been hours. But nothing happened. Satoru considered the possibility that he’d blacked out when he was shoved into the wall. He had hit his head pretty hard. Perhaps during that time the suit had not assessed him as a threat and had simply left the loft. That outcome would be the worst case though. What if it had dragged Suguru back to Ryomen Tech? How would Satoru ever get him back then?

Slowly, every muscle aching from being held tersely for so long, Satoru got to his knees. He wiped the last remaining tears from his lashes and took a deep breath. He could do this. He had to do this. Carefully, he picked his way over to where he’d last seen Suguru. The couch blocked his view, which he was partly thankful for. It gave him a few extra seconds to collect himself, to try to think of a plan for what happened after this.

Satoru didn’t have a plan. Just the feeling of dread that he pushed past as he rounded the corner. A gasp escaped past his lips and his elbows buckled. Satoru couldn’t comprehend what had happened. It was a twisted miracle. Utterly terrified, yet hope bloomed in his chest. He pushed himself up again and crossed the distance to Suguru’s body. His chest rose, breathing even. He was alive. Tears clouded Satoru’s vision as he gently pulled Suguru towards him.

It was probably one of the stupidest things Satoru had ever done in his life, but he couldn't help himself. He’d never been able to suppress the need to pull Suguru closer. No one could ask that of him, it would be like asking him to stop breathing. He did the best he could, pulling Suguru’s torso into his lap. The suit had a sticky, tacky surface that made Satoru cringe, but it didn’t stop his hands traveling over Suguru. The only light in the room came from the faint, cool glow from the mask’s eyes cover.

Probing the back of Suguru’s nape, Satoru searched for the button that would force the suit to withdraw. When his efforts left him empty handed, he tried for the button on the hip. Satoru let out a frustrated sound and flinched when Suguru twitched. He hadn’t found anything. Suddenly, he was worried he’d damaged the suit somehow with the stun device. Satoru had worked it out the second time he’d been hit with it. The device emitted high pitched sound waves that humans couldn’t typically detect. 

Typically. Satoru heard the frequencies crystal clear. The sound was awful, but he’d assumed Suguru would be fine. He thought only the suit would be affected, but something else was happening here. For the life of him, Satoru couldn’t figure it out. The loft was far too quiet. Not the comfortable kind. Not the quiet that came after long nights spent talking until sunrise, when exhaustion settled warm and heavy. This silence felt hollow. Wrong. Like the air itself was holding its breath. Satoru strained his ears to listen for an extra heart beat, breathing that would prove Suguru was still alive. All he heard was his own.

He swallowed hard and forced himself to concentrate. Heat radiated off Suguru’s body- off the suit. It was warm, hot to the touch. Far too hot than it should’ve been. At first he thought it was his mind playing tricks on him. Warmth meant life. If Suguru’s body was warm, even feverish, that meant he was still alive in there. Satoru convinced himself that it was just adrenaline burning through him, making everything feel sharper, louder, more alive.

The longer he held Suguru, the more the elusion decade. The heat wasn’t human. It wasn’t soft warmth of skin pressed to skin. It was more than that, something beyond mankind. Beyond fever induced heat. It radiated through the suit in slow, pulsing waves that soaked into Satoru’s palms and made him feel clammy. His stomach twisted itself into knots. He couldn’t breath past the lump lodged in his throat. He just wanted Suguru to be okay. He wanted to erase the past week and go back to the way things had been. He shook his head. Satoru wanted to erase the last decade. He wanted to go back to the beginning and begin anew.

“Suguru…?” He whispered into the dark, the name barely more than a breath. No verbal response, but beneath his hand Suguru’s chest stuttered. Steady, even breathing invaded his ears. In. Out. In. Out. Mechanical in its consistency, yet a sign of life nonetheless. It should’ve comforted him. Instead, it made something cold crawl up his spine. The glow of the mask shifted. Satoru froze.

It was faint- so faint he might’ve missed it if he hadn’t been staring so hard, searching for any sign to present itself. The cool blue light lining the mask flickered once, like a faulty bulb struggling against a dying current. Then it steadied again, washing the mask in the same eerie glow. His fingers tightened instinctively on the other boy’s shoulder. He wanted so badly to see Suguru’s face.

“I know you’re in there,” he whispered, voice breaking before he could stop it. “You have to be.” The words slipped out before he could think better of them. A plea, not a statement. Something small and fragile, offered to the dark like it might shatter if the air shifted wrong.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Satoru’s heart collapsed in his chest like a dying star. He couldn’t live in a world without Suguru. He wouldn’t. He felt his soul departing just from the thought. He was close to tears, a sob ripped through him.

Then: Suguru’s hand twitched. It was small. Barely anything: A faint stutter of movement against Satoru’s thigh. So subtle he might have written it off as reflex if he hadn’t been so desperate for it- so starved for proof that this wasn’t already over. His breath hitched and another sob stuttered out. “Suguru?” He tried again, softer, and more steady this time. As if speaking too loudly, or too unsure might scare the moment away.

Another twitch. It wasn’t random, not just a spasm for him to write off. Suguru’s fingers curled weakly, bunching the fabric of Satoru’s shirt. It felt like the world was collapsing in on itself. Everything honed to that single point of contact.

A broken sound crawled its way out of Satoru’s chest. It scraped its way up his chest. Ripped out of him before the star collapsing there could devour it. It was half laugh, half sob, jagged and wet and painfully alive. His hands trembled where they hovered, afraid to move, afraid to ruin it. Like if he shifted even an inch, this fragile miracle would slip through his fingers and vanish. As if the universe would remember that he was undeserving of this gift and revoke it. 

“You’re here,” he breathed out, words dissolving into the space between them. “You’re still here.” It didn’t matter the secrets between them. Satoru didn’t care anymore. What Suguru did… Satoru didn’t give a damn. He was willing to overlook it. Satoru was selfish enough to not care about who Suguru might’ve hurt. It didn’t matter. Those mistakes had kept Suguru alive long enough for him to make his way back. Satoru would commit worse atrocities if it meant he got to keep Suguru here. With him. Where he belonged.

Hope bloomed fast and violent in his chest. Reckless. Blinding. The kind that didn’t ask permission before taking root. The kind that had always been his fatal flaw. Satoru was a hopeless dreamer. He’d always believe in the impossible if it had to do with Suguru. The other’s grip tightened. Not by much. But it was enough that the knot in Satoru’s chest loosened by a fraction.

Enough that he felt it- the faint pressure of fingers curling into him, weak and achingly familiar. He wanted Suguru to leave marks on his skin. Wanted the other to grip him tight enough to bruise. Needed him to hold on and never let go. It was muscle memory. Instinct. The same way Suguru used to grab his sleeve in crowded crosswalks. The same way he’d tug him closer without thinking. Another sob ripped free of the collapsing star.

“I’ve got you,” Satoru murmured the promise automatically. Useless and instinctive and painfully sincere. He wanted to run his hands through onyx locks. “I’ve got you, ‘m right here-”

The suit jolted. Satoru went rigid, half his sentence turned to crumbling mass. The movement wasn’t violent. Not like the suit’s behavior from before. No snapping tendrils or sudden strikes. Just a slow, deliberate shift beneath his hands. The texture changed first- the tacky surface tightening, pulling taut like something waking under stretched skin.

Then: The heat spiked. A pulse rolled through the suit, deep and heavy and unmistakable alive. Satoru hadn’t breathed, didn’t think he could. Another pulse followed. Stronger this time. He felt it against his palms, against his thigh, against the space where Suguru rested in his lap.

It was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. That wasn’t a heartbeat. Suguru’s fingers slackened. Not all at once. Like something was pulling him back under. Like whatever fragile thread had surfaced was being dragged down into something deeper and darker and unreachable.

“No,” Satoru whispered frantically. Panic rose sharp as bile fought its way up his throat. His hands hovered helplessly, not knowing where to go, what to do, how to stop something he couldn’t even see. “No, no, stay with me-”

The glow of the mask brightened. Not a flicker, but a beacon. It was a response. Cold light spilled across Satoru’s features. It wasn’t just the eyes, the whole mask had become luminescent. It highlighted the curves of Suguru’s face. Illuminated the space between them. Too bright. It lit up everything- the tear tracks on Satoru’s face, the way his fingers shook, the way he held Suguru like something already half gone.

And for one terrible, breathless second- Satoru had the unmistakable suffocating feeling that Suguru was not alone in the suit. And now it was awake. Aware of its surroundings. And it was looking back at Satoru with a gaping, unsatiated hunger. 

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

No one came for her. She thoroughly snooped, but had found nothing else. So she made her way back upstairs. Something had shifted in the atmosphere of the hospital. The once sterile halls Shoko took solace in had been tainted by shadows lurking in the corners. As she made her trek back to Riko’s room, she felt invisible eyes on her. She tried to stay cool, tried to keep her curated mask from slipping, but she kept glancing over her shoulder as the soles of her shoes clicked down the hall. When she made it back to the room, she collapsed in one of the chairs and must’ve dozed off.

The first thing she noticed upon waking and blinking the stubborn sleep out of her eyes, was that the chart had been updated again. It made her uneasy to think someone else was in here with Riko, while she herself had been sleeping. But it was a pointless feeling. They were in a hospital. Nurses and doctors were supposed to enter, update the chart, and care for the patient inside. Shoko just didn’t trust that was all that was happening.

The room was dim, overhead lights till off the way she’d left them, the only illumination coming from the monitor’s soft green glow and the thin gray daylight bleeding through the slitted blinds. Riko lay curled on her side, breathing evenly, her expression slack with sleep and medication. Too still. Too quiet. And still, very, very wrong.

Shoko frowned as she stepped closer to the bed. The chart tablet sat in its cradle, warm when she picked it up. That alone felt wrong. She’d been seated not ten feet away. She would have noticed someone accessing it. Asleep or not. The timestamp blinked at the top of the screen.

UPDATED — 14:02

Shoko looked at the clock on the wall. It read 14:06. Someone was just here. Only four minutes ago, someone else had accessed this room, and Shoko had not noticed. Her jaw tightened and she started to scroll through the notes. Vitals unchanged. Medication unchanged. Notes… clinical and detached. Written in the careful, impersonal shorthand of someone who had never uttered a single word to the girl lying prone in the bed adjacent to her. Hadn’t seen the concerning way Riko’s eyes failed to track properly, the way she had continuously blinked like the lights and the world around her were too loud. At the bottom of the entry, a new line had been added.

External medical asset engaged.

Shoko stared at it. It didn’t make sense. There was no sign off. It didn’t belong to any department. It wasn’t a specialty. It wasn’t even phrased like any hospital lingo she’d ever come across. Her thumb hovered for a brief moment, then she tapped the metadata. The author field didn’t populate. No name. No badge ID. Not even a list of attending physicians. Just a clearance code that she did not recognize.

She wasn’t going to panic, though her pulse did quicken, she channeled the excess energy into focusing. There had to be something she’d miss. Years of medical training settled over her like armor. Hospitals ran on bureaucracy. Everything left a paper trail. But this hadn’t. She set the tablet back down slowly and turned toward the door. That was when she noticed the cold.

Not the hum of the AC- this was different. Localized. Like the air itself had thinned, or she had gone to a higher altitude. Shoko exhaled through her nose and caught the faintest hint of white in her breath. She stilled. Her next inhale was painful. Across the way, someone stood just outside the room, casually leaning against the wall. Not announcing themselves in any way. They were simply waiting.

Shoko stepped out into the hall, taking care to close the door behind her. The figure was tall, dressed in black rather than hospital scrubs or a lab coat. Their white hair cut into a blunt bob. Their skin seemed to reflect the light of the hallway; it was so pale. No badge hung from their neck. They looked up at the sound of Shoko’s footsteps. Their eyes were a pale red, and completely unreadable.

“Dr. Ieiri,” they said, voice smooth, neutral. Familiar with her name in a way that made her skin crawl. “I was hoping we’d meet.”

Shoko didn’t answer immediately. She wasn’t a doctor. So either this person was misinformed, or they were fucking with her. Shoko had a bad feeling it was the latter. This was the kind of person that only asked questions they knew the answer to, and only played games they knew they could win. She cataloged the details her mind could latch onto. Forming a neat, detailed list in her mind’s eye. Their posture was relaxed, hands visible; one silver ring worn on the middle finger of the right hand, stance, slightly angled- not defensive, nor aggressive. Controlled.

“Who are you?” She asked at last, leveling them with a bored, unbothered stare.

A faint smile. Polite. Practiced. “I oversee external consultations when standard care intersects with… specialized circumstances.”

Shoko’s nails dug into her palm. “You’re not listed on the care team.” Flat. Bored. Do not give anything away.

“No,” the stranger agreed easily. “I’m not.” That was the wrong answer.

Shoko leaned against the door to Riko’s room. “Then you don’t have authorization to alter her chart.”

“I do,” they said, just as calmly. “Just not through the channels you’re accustomed to.”

There it was. The confirmation she hadn’t wanted, but needed all the same. Shoko felt something shift- not fear, exactly, but the awareness that the ground beneath her had been hollowed out without her noticing. “What exactly are you consulting on?” She asked, gaze still leveled.

The stranger’s eyes flicked past her, toward Riko’s room. Trying to peer through the solid door to the sleeping girl inside. “Risk assessment,” they said. “Containment advisement. Prognostic modeling.”

Annoyance spiked, teetering on the edge of anger. Her tone sharpened. “She’s a civilian patient.”

The stranger tipped their head to the side, “So is everyone.” Their head dipped the other way, “Until they aren’t.”

Silence stretched between them, taut as a wire. I should’ve called Gojo again. She understood then- suddenly, sickeningly- that this wasn’t about Riko alone. What the fuck did he get mixed up in? This was about proximity and patterns. About who had been asking too many questions, staying too late, noticing too much. The stranger’s head tilted again, eyes trained solely on Shoko. They were studying her now.

“You are very attentive, Miss Ieiri,” a smile spread across their face. It wasn’t warm. In fact, Shoko could’ve sworn she felt the hallway grow colder. “That’s rare. Valuable.”

Shoko’s stomach dropped. “Seems you’re pretty attentive yourself. You’ve been watching me, then?” She was still grasping to her usual mask, but it was slipping. Her words wobbled slightly on the way out, and Shoko knew that it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

There was a slight lull, where the temperature changed again, slightly warmer, before it plummeted again. An involuntary chill ran through Shoko. “We observe all relevant variables.”

Shoko let out a slow breath, a plume of white followed. It did nothing to soothe her racing pulse. Brought her nowhere near back to baseline. She thought back to the last conversation she had with Satoru. Of his broken, exhausted voice crackling over the receiver. Of the way he’d begged her- without saying it outright- to keep Riko safe.

She met the stranger’s gaze, unflinching. “I’m not one of your assets.”

The smile returned, thin and almost fond. Sickening all the same. “No,” they agreed. “Not yet.” They stood away from the wall. Bowed deeply at the waist before standing up straight again. “For now,” they added, “consider this a courtesy warning. You’re free to carry on, now.” They turned, as if to walk away. As if the conversation would conclude there.

Shoko should let this go for now. Let the dust settle. Play it safe. But she had one last question. “And Riko?”

The stranger paused, glanced over their shoulder, back at Riko’s room. “We’ll be monitoring her progress closely. You should walk away, Ieiri san.” Then they turned fully, and walked away, disappearing down the hall without a backward glance.

Shoko stood there long after they were gone, the hospital suddenly too quiet, too clean, too complicit. “That’s not really my thing,” she whispered to herself. Shoko couldn’t walk away now. She looked down at her hands. They were tinged blue, from the sudden frigidness that was disappearing with the stranger, but they were steady. Good. That meant she could still do something. Shoko turned back toward Riko’s room, already cataloguing routes, access points, names she could pull, systems she could lean on.

External medical asset, she thought grimly. Fine. If they were escalating, so was she. And whatever game they thought they were playing- she was done being a passive variable.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

? ? ?

Glass crunched. Sue’s eyes flew open on instinct, pupils contracting against the sudden brightness as light flooded the room. Alarms blared overhead, a thin shrill wail that moved through the corridor beyond her window and turned the air into something sharp enough to swallow wrong. The man hit the floor hard, Sue felt the impact in her skull. Her teeth hurt from it.

There was a pause, just a moment where Sue’s mind couldn’t bridge the gap between before and after. Her face still burned where his hand had been. The pressure in her skull had been a living thing, an invasive weight that had pressed her thoughts into mush. Now it was gone, yanked away so suddenly her brain lurched into clarity like a car thrown out of gear. Sue sucked in a breath. A boy stood over the man’s sprawled body.

Right. Itadori broke free. His chest heaved. His pink hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. His hands were smeared with red- not all of it his. His eyes were wide and feral with the kind of panic that didn’t know where to go, so it became motion instead. His posture was twitchy, eyes darting back and forth until they landed on her.

For the first time since Sue had woken up in this room something like purpose cut through the haze. “Sue!” He barked, voice raw. He slammed a first into the panel that controlled her restraints. The locks didn’t immediately release. Sue’s heart skipped. Her mouth went dry. She strained against the restraints, but they answered with the same quiet, unyielding restraint as before. Her gaze flicked past him, through the glass window in front of her.

No one was running. No boots slapping against the cement. No shouted commands. No flood of security like you’d seen in every movie, in every facility designed to contain something valuable. Just alarms. Just the lights flashing. Itadori grabbed something- Sue couldn’t see from her angle- and jammed it into the restraint latch. Metal squealed. He swore under his breath, shoulder slamming into the table as he forced the mechanism.

“Hold on- just-” he gritted his teeth. “Come on!” The latch popped and Sue’s right wrist came free so suddenly she nearly punched herself in the jaw. Pain shot up her arm like lightning- pins and needles and bruised nerves. Her left wrist followed a heartbeat later. She didn’t sit up right away. Her body hesitated, still half-believing it was a trap, still waiting for the invisible hand to slam her back down.

Itadori didn’t hesitate. He wasn’t wasting a single second. He braced both hands on the edge of her table and leaned close enough that Sue could see his pupils blown wide. Her own fear reflected back at her. Still, the fear did not paralyze him. She’d have to do her best to ensure the same. “Can you move?”

Sue attempted to swing her legs over the edge. The world tilted, from fear, from lack of nutrients, maybe from the side effects of the drug they’d pumped into her. Sue wasn’t sure. Her stomach rolled and acid rose to scorch her esophagus. The room spun now. Drugs must be clinging to her consciousness like syrup. But the adrenaline- pure and panicked- helped her push through it. “I-yes,” she forced out, voice gravely. “I can-”

He wasn’t wasting time. Itadori grabbed her elbow and hauled her upright. His grip was too tight, but his hands shook. His hold would leave a bruise. But he didn’t look at her like she was fragile. He looked at her like she was a door he needed to get through- his ticker out. As if he hadn’t single handedly ripped free of his restraints, shattered a ballistic grade glass, and tackled their warden.

“Okay,” he said, more to himself. “Okay. We go. We get everyone. We get out.” He made it sound so simple. Like they weren’t trapped in one of the most secure facilities in all of Japan.

Sue’s feet hit the cold floor. Her knees buckled, but Itadori was right there, helping Sue steady herself. He released her once she stopped swaying. Just as quickly, he turned towards the glass separating her cell from Kamo’s. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation. He reared back and drove his fist into the panel of glass. It spiderwebbed, and for a split second she thought he’d have to punch it again, but it answered with a momentary groan before it exploded. 

Shards of glass flew inward. Sue’s breath caught in her throat, worried that the glass might strike Kamo. Air rushed in, colder and sharper than the conditioned chill of her chamber. Sue flinched as fragments skittered across the floor. Itadori was already hopping over the barrier to break his brother out much in the same fashion as he had for her. Sue paused. The stitched man on the ground didn’t move, but her gaze snagged on him anyway. On his stitched seams. On the unnatural patchwork of his skin.

He’d been smiling when Itadori tackled him. Sue couldn’t shake that image, as much as she wanted to. Couldn’t shake the way his delight had been so palpable. The crinkling of glass drew her attention back to Itadori, now picking his way over to Kamo in the other cell. He stomped over glass like they were nothing, despite the fact that he wore no shoes. “Choso!” He shouted. “Kamo, hey- wake up! We’re getting the fuck out of here.”

Kamo’s head snapped up, as if the shout had yanked him from a drowning dream. His eyes were blood shot, they had him under a heavier fog than Sue. She could see from where she stood how badly his wrists were chafed raw from pulling against the restraints. When Kamo finally saw Itadori- saw the broken glass- something flickered across his face so face Sue almost missed it. Not relief. Not hope. His features flicked into something closer to alarm, there one blink, and gone the next.

“Idiot,” Kamo rasped, it sounded like he’d been screaming himself hoarse for hours. “What did you do?”

“I got us out,” Itadori snapped impatiently. He was already reaching for Kamo’s restraint mechanism. “Help me- if you can move, help me. We’re not leaving anyone behind.”

Kamo’s jaw clenched. His gaze cut over to Sue, then pivoted forward again to look out at the hall. Sue followed his line of sight. Still no one. No responding staff. No running shadows. No weapons drawn. Only the intermittent passing of an orderly down the corridor, walking at the same steady pace as before, as if the alarm was just part of the day’s soundtrack. Her throat tightened.

Itadori worked the locks with brutal efficiency, as if he’d done this all before. As if this was part of his everyday regiment. Like, he spent time between classes breaking free from corrupt science facilities for fun. Almost like he’d been made for this exact task in mind. The last strap released. Kamo surged upright too fast, swaying. Itadori put a hand out to steady his brother.

“I’m fine,” Kamo snapped, then immediately winced- his pride quicker to react than brotherly affection.

The pink haired boy didn’t argue. He just turned, eyes blazing, and pointed at the right chamber. “We get Haibara. We get Inumaki. We get everyone.”

Kamo’s gaze sharpened. “No. We,” he gestured between just the two of them, cutting Sue out of the equation, “get out. Now. This place-”

“I’m not leaving them! Inumaki is my friend!” Itadori barked, and the sound echoed off the sterile walls. “I’m not-”

Sue swallowed, forcing herself to step over the barrier into Kamo’s confinement pod. Her knees tried to buckle, but she caught herself on the edge of the window, slicing her palm open. It stung immediately, but she bit back the pain and focused on what needed to be done. “We need a plan, Itadori.”

The boy’s head snapped in her direction, a little shocked, as if he’d forgotten she could talk. His expression softened for a fraction of a second- just enough to remind Sue that he was, in fact, still just a kid. Still able to get frightened, still in way over his head. Her heart ached, she thought of Johnny, but immediately pushed the image of him back into the recesses of her mind. Itadori’s expression shifted again, features hardening like he’d flipped a switch inside himself. “The plan is we go,” he said, too quickly. “We move and we don’t stop until we’re out of this god awful place.”

Kamo exhaled through his nose, sharp. His eyes stayed on the hall. He was listening to something Sue couldn’t hear- watching something she couldn’t see. She strained to do so anyway. There was a tension in him that didn’t quite match the situation. He was more angry at Itadori for trying to break out than he was with the fact that they’d been captured in the first place. A well of unease poured forth in Sue’s stomach.

They ran. Itadori led, all frantic momentum and raw determination. It seemed that the three of them were the only ones on this block. Sue followed, her bare feet slapping cold tile, her vision swimming at the edges. Kamo kept to her other side, close enough that Sue could feel the heat of him, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was scanning ahead, jaw tight, as if expecting the hallways to bite.

They reached Haibara’s window first. The boy inside jerked awake when Itadori started pounding on the window. His face was pale, lips cracked. When he saw them- saw the splintering glass- his eyes widened like a dying mind finding water in the desert.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Itadori said, rearing back again to put all his might into the collision. He slammed his fist into the glass. It shattered with the same violent certainty. Haibara flinched at the sound it made as glass cascaded into his holding cell. Then he started crying quietly. Soundless, open mouth sobs that shook his shoulders as Itadori yanked at the boy’s restraints.

“Hold still,” Itadori ordered, but his voice cracked around the edges. “Hold still- just- okay, okay.” He placed a soothing hand atop Haibara’s head, smoothing down the other boy’s hair.

Sue hovered, torn between helping and watching the hall. Still no guards. No response from the lab. And the air around remained wrong. Haibara’s straps released. Itadori hauled him upright, practically dragging him out of his cell. “Can you walk?”

Haibara nodded rapidly, wiping his face with the back of his arm like he was ashamed of the tears. “Y-yeah,” he mumbled meekly.

“Good,” Itadori responded. He didn’t wait to see if it were true. He started making his way down the corridor. “Next.”

Kamo grabbed Sue’s elbow as they moved again. His grip was firm, steadying. He leaned close enough that his voice brushed her ear. “We’re running out of time,” he murmured.

Sue swallowed around the lump in her throat. “Why?” she whispered back.

Kamo didn’t answer her. They reached Inumaki next. It was odd that no one else was held close together like the three of them had been. The boy inside stared at them blankly at first, like his brain couldn’t parse what he was seeing. When Itadori smashed the glass, Inumaki flinched hard, shoulders curling in. His mouth opened, then closed again. Sue saw the way his throat worked as he swallowed.

Kamo didn’t hesitate. He shoved past his brother and went straight for the restraints, hands fast and precise. “Don’t speak,” he said sharply, as if Inumaki would somehow hurt them by breathing. Inumaki blinked once. A confirmation that he understood. Kamo’s fingers moved with familiarity. Far more practiced than his brother’s had been. Like he knew the mechanics intimately, like he knew exactly how these latches were built. The straps released. Inumaki’s hands shook as he brought them to his own face, as if checking he was still real.

Sue’s eyes flicked to the hall again. A figure stood at the far end now. Not running. No hint of alarm. Just watching. An orderly in off-red scrubs and a hair net, hands clasped behind their back. Sue stared. The orderly’s head tipped to the side… almost curious. Then turned and walked away at the same steady pace as before. Sue’s stomach dropped. “Itadori,” she hissed.

He didn’t hear her. Or didn’t want to.

“We have to go,” Kamo was stern and raised his voice louder this time.

“No,” Itadori snapped. “There’s more. There’s-”

Sue’s gaze snagged on a door she hadn’t noticed before. Slightly ajar. A darker seam in the sterile corridor. Something tugged at her attention, the same nagging feeling she’d had since she woke: everything here is too controlled. The alarm was too constant. Far too deliberate. The attendants too uniform, even during a breakout. 

Itadori barreled toward the door like he felt it too, but turned it into action instead of thought. “There!” he shouted over his shoulder. “More rooms-”

They slipped inside. The atmosphere shifted immediately- dimmer, the air colder. The room was larger than the chambers, with multiple containment units lining the walls like aquarium tanks. Sue’s breath hitched and she had to focus on not gagging. The sight was horrific, though not all of them were occupied. Some tables were empty restraints dangling loose like abandoned hands. Some had blood smeared into the metal where someone had struggled. And one-

Sue’s gaze landed on him and felt a punch to the gut. He hand covered her mouth, fighting with herself not to throw up. A boy in the far corner. Not strapped to a table. He was huddled on the floor, knees drawn to his chest, arms wrapped tight around himself like he was trying to hold his body together. His hair was dark and messy, shadowing his face. He was thin in a way that made Sue’s throat tighten, too thin, too still. He’s dead. He had no reaction to them as they appeared outside his cell window.

Itadori, the endearing idiot he was, did not hesitate. He crossed the room in three strides and slammed his hand into the glass panel as if it were muscle memory. “Hey!” His voice was urgent as he called out to the boy. “We’re getting you out.”

The boy did not respond. He didn’t twitch. He remained perfectly still, as if he was nothing more than a statue hued from onyx stone. Despite the roaring protest in her brain, Sue took a step forward. Slowly, one hand out, like she was approaching a wounded animal. “Hey,” she whispers, cadence gentle. “It’s okay. We’re-”

Kamo grabbed her arm, stopping her. His eyes were locked on the boy. Something cold had crept into his expression.

“We don’t have time,” Kamo’s voice was flat, and very unlike him.

Itadori whipped around, hands fisting at his sides as if he were itching for a fight. “What the hell are you talking about? He’s-”

“Not from the tour,” Kamo finished. Sue knew he was right. She’d memorized all the faces. This boy hadn’t been on the institute tour. He hadn’t been one of them. Her level of unease spiked. 

Itadori turned back to the boy and crouched. “Hey,” he tried again, hands open, palms up. “We’re getting out of here. Come on.”

The boy’s head lifted a fraction. His eyes were nearly black. Heavy purple bags carved deep below his sockets. There wasn’t much light here, but she could just make out the boy’s expression. Blank. Like someone had cut his power source. His eyes flicked over Itadori’s face like he was looking through him. Like he couldn’t ascertain if real people stood before him, or just mere illusions.

Itadori reached for him. The boy reared back. Body spasming so violently he slammed his head into the metal wall behind him. A dull thud rang through the room. A sound escaped him- small, broken, animalistic. Sue’s heart clenched in her chest. “It’s okay,” she whispered, voice still soft, though she did not believe what she said.

Kamo grip tightened on her arm. “We leave him,” he repeated, sharper than before. “Now.”

“No.” Itadori’s voice shook, but he stood his ground. “No, I’m not-”

The boy’s gaze flicked up again, slow. And for the briefest second, Sue thought she saw something move in the dark behind him. Not a shadow. Not a trick of the lighting. Something shifted wrong, like smoke learning to take shape. Her blood ran cold. “Itadori,” the name barely made it past her lips. Suddenly she was deprived of oxygen, panic spiking and taking over. Itadori didn’t turn to look at her.

He stood, jaw clenched, eyes wet with fury. “Fine,” he snapped. “Fine. We come back, though. We have to come back.”

Kamo didn’t respond. They moved on, still. They were still missing Nitta. But they were truly running out of time. Nothing had changed, still no guards, still no one trying to stop them, but Sue could feel something was wrong. They needed to get out now. Kamo and her would not allow Itadori to return for anyone. Guilt weighed heavy on her shoulders, but there was simply nothing they could do from here.

As a group they moved towards the doors they’d come through when they were first escorted into this wing. The door at the end of the corridor began to slide open as Itadori drew closer. They hadn’t used an access code. Yet the door opened without delay, without resistance. It opened like it had been waiting for them. Sue stopped walking, and Inumaki crashed into her. A chill ran through her limbs, turning her bones to ice. “Kamo,” she whispered. She couldn’t will herself to speak what her mind already knew.

Itadori, ahead of the group, did not stop. “See?” he asked, breathless and triumphant. Sue wanted to scream at him to stop. His hope was too bright, too naive, too easy to extinguish. “We’re out-We really-”

They stepped through the door and beyond it stood guards. Not rushing in. Not scrambling. Waiting. Lined up like they’d been placed here for this exact moment. Their faces were covered in helmets. Their armor was sleek and dark, reinforced at the joints. Their rifles were already raised. Itadori froze. Sue’s stomach dropped at the sight of it. 

For one horrible heartbeat, the alarms felt distant. The lighting felt too bright. The air tasted like metal. The patchwork man’s voice drifted from behind the,, soft as a lullaby. “Well,” Sue could already tell the man was amused. “That was entertaining.”

Sue turned, despite herself/ He was standing in the doorway they’d just come through. Upright, uninjured, and smiling ear to ear. His stitched face pulled wider as he looked at them, eyes shining with that same sick delight. Itadori’s hand curled into fists. Surprisingly, Kamo moved first. He shoved Sue backward, forcing her behind him. “Run,” he snarled under his breath, but there was nowhere to go. Not now. Not with guards ahead and the stitched man behind them, and the wing yawning like a mouth at their backs.

Itadori lunged anyway. He swung at the nearest guard with a wild, furious punch, and the guard barely shifted- only pivoted, catching Itadori’s arm with a gloved hand and twisting. A sickening snap echoed in Sue’s ears. Itadori wasn’t going to go down without a fight though. He hissed through the pain as he kicked and clawed. He fought like a wounded animal who’d been backed into the corner. Sue suspected that’s exactly what they viewed him as.

Kamo rushed in beside him, movements sharper, cleaner. For a second, it looked like he’d make some headway. Then a baton cracked across Kamo’s ribs. He folded, a whimper barely making it past his lips. Sue gasped, hands covering her mouth. Kamo hit the ground on his wounded side and gasped. Itadori screamed- pure rage- and threw himself forward again, punching until his knuckles split, until blood slicked the guard’s uniforms. He didn’t stop. Sue didn’t think he could.

Her vision tunneled and her knees buckled. It had gone wrong so fast. This was-

A voice cut through the chaos behind them. Quiet, peaceful, almost polite: “If I do this for you,” it asked, “will I finally be free?”

Sue’s head snapped towards the sound. The harrowed boy from earlier stood under the entry arch. His posture was wrong- too still, too composed for the horrors that were unfolding. What have they done to you? To flinch at the prospect of human touch, but then not bat an eye at this? It was horrific. The boy’s eyes were fixed not on Sue, not on Itadori, but on the patchwork man. The man smiles, stitches pulling tight as he flashed all his teeth. He was delighted. Sue was sick. “Yes,” he said easily. “Of course.”

Something in Sue’s chest turned to ice. The boy blinked once, slowly. Then the air behind him tore open. Not literally- no visible rip, no cinematic effect. Just a sudden, violent absence where the world should have been, as if reality had forgotten how to exist for half a second. A demonic shape unfurled from his back like a shadow given teeth and claws. It was not a creature so much as a force- too large for the space, too wrong to have been given form. It moved like hunger.

Sue’s breath caught again as the demon lunged. It tackled Itadori with a sound akin to a car crash, slamming him to the floor so hard it rattled Sue’s skull. Itadori’s head hit the floor with a resounding thunk. His eyes rolled for a second. He tried to push up, to keep fighting, but the monster pinned him with terrifying ease.

A gurney rolled forward from behind the guard line. Efficient. Prepared. Of course. Itadori thrashed, snarling, trying to shove the thing off him even as the guards swarmed. Sue was amazed he was still capable of moving after hitting his head so hard. She could see the puddle of blood forming from where she sat, collapsed on her knees. A needle flashed. A syringe plunged. Itadori’s movements stuttered. Then they slowed. Then his whole body fell limp like a ragdoll.

His eyes fluttered once, unfocused, still furious even as the sedatives dragged him under. His mouth shaped something- Sue couldn’t hear it over the alarms. Then his head lolled to the side. Sue was lightheaded. She felt funny, like she’d been the one given sedatives. Someone grabbed her arms from behind. Two guards- stronger grips than the attendants. She fought on instinct, but the fire had gone out. Hope had been extinguished and her body failed her as the final ebbs of adrenaline wore off. She was hauled forward like luggage.

Another man stepped forward. Older, composed. A white coat draped over his shoulders like a costume he’d earned. His hair was neat. His hands were clean. Dr. Kaido had returned. She had been so excited to meet him; had known him from brochures and polite presentations. But this man was a monster. Su didn’t care how brilliant he was, Kaido was evil. He was holding them hostage. Planned to experiment on them- wanted to change them. His eyes swept over the scene- the shattered glass, the blood, the unconscious Itadori on the gurney- and his lips curved upward in something that looked like satisfaction.

“Well,” he murmured, almost fondly. “Remarkable. He exceeded expectations.”

Kamo, still on the floor, spat blood and glared up at him. “Shut up,” he rasped, voice shaking with fury. “Shut your fucking mouth.”

Kaido’s gaze slid to him, mild. “Such loyalty,” he mused, as if they were discussing a lab animal’s behavior. Then his attention returned to Itadori. “His father would be proud.” The words dropped into the space like bombs. Sue saw Itadori’s face in her mind- his frantic insistence, his refusal to leave anyone behind- and something in her stomach twisted with sickening dread.

Kamo’s eyes went wild. “Don’t,” he snarled, dragging himself up on an elbow. “Don’t you dare-”

Kaido tilted his head. “Oh,” he said lightly. “So he didn’t tell you.”

Kamo choked on something that sounded like a sob and a laugh at once, and the guards kicked him back down. Sue’s breath came in sharp, shallow bursts. Around them, the other kids- Haibara, Inumaki- were being restrained, dragged, subdued with chilling efficiency. None of them had made it far enough to matter. None of them had been allowed to become a variable in this last moment.

The patchwork man strolled closer to Kaido, hands clasped behind his back, humming softly under the alarm. It had all been an exercise- a test- an experiment. Sue’s vision blurred with rage and helplessness. And then-

A new unit entered the corridor. Not the usual guards. These wore heavier armor, reinforced across the torso and the neck. Their helmets were bulkier. Their movements were more cautious. They weren’t coming for Sue. They were moving towards the boy, circling him like hyenas. He stood perfectly still, as if he’d expected this outcome.

He stood perfectly still as they approached, face blank, hands at his sides. He didn’t look pleased. He didn’t look like someone who’d just won his freedom. The poor kid just looked tired. One guard raised a weapon- something thicker than a rifle, with coils along the side that hummed faintly. The boy’s gaze flicked towards Sue. Just once. His eyes met hers across the chaos, across the bodies, across the blaring alarm, and the bright sterile light.

Sue couldn’t read the expression on his face. Then he moved. The monster tore out of him again like a storm breaking through a thin door. It lashed sideways, a blur of claws and shadow. The armored guards went down like tin toy soldiers. Bodies hitting the tile with heavy, helpless thuds. One slammed into the wall hard enough to dent it. The room filled with a different kind of silence beneath the alarm- a stunned, disbelieving stillness.

Kaido’s smile vanished. The patchwork man’s delight faltered, his eyes narrowing. “Contain him,” Kaido ordered, voice sharp now. Real fear surfacing through the clinical calm. “Now.”

The boy did not hesitate. He bolted. Not toward Sue. Not towards the exits they’d been herded toward. He turned and vanished down another corridor with impossible speed, disappearing into the sterile maze like a shadow slipping between cracks. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then Kaido barked another order: “After him! Get the unit now! I want him back alive.”

The patchwork man’s grin returned, thinner this time. He gestured sharply to a squad. “With me,” he said, and vanished after the boy, his footsteps hasty with urgency.

Sue’s chest heaved. Even in the middle of disaster, even with blood on the floor and bodies dragged like dead weight, they cared more about losing that boy than they did any of them. Because the boy was the point. The next step in human evolution. Sue understood it now with sick clarity. Is that what they want to do to all of us? 

Sue’s arms were yanked hard. She stumbled, nearly falling as she was dragged back the way she’d come. Back past shattered panels already being sealed with metal shutters. Back past attendants who had appeared silently, rolling carts and carrying replacement glass like they were resetting a stage between acts. No one looked at Sue. No one acknowledged her as a human. She was hauled into her containment chamber again, shoved onto the cold metal table. Straps snapped around her wrists and ankles with practiced speed- tighter this time. No gentle give- the illusion of mercy foregone.

Her skin crawled and screamed where the restraints bit. The windows to either side of her were pristine and clear, as if they had never been shattered. As if she hadn’t just roamed the halls moments ago. At that moment, it felt like it had been a lifetime ago. As if it had happened to an entirely different version of Susan Storm. She lay there, panting, eyes wide, throat burning with swallowed screams.

The lights dimmed back to sterile twilight. And beneath it all- the steady mechanical rhythm pulsed through the walls again. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Sue stared at the ceiling, silent tears sliding down into her hair. They hadn’t escaped. They’d been allowed to hope. Allowed to believe, just long enough to measure the shape of their desperation. Her mind reeled back to the patchwork man’s words. Geto understood. That’s why he ran. Now she understood too. And the understanding offered her nothing. 

It did not free her. It did not save any of them. It only settled over her head like lead- heavy and suffocating and absolute. The room breathed. And Sue lay trapped inside its lungs.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Tuesday October 13th

“No,” Satoru whispered, breath punched out of him, the word still came instinctively. Small and useless. He didn’t know who he was saying no to. The suit didn’t move. Not at first. It just… held there. The glow steady, watching. Waiting. Satoru’s fingers trembled where they hovered over Suguru’s shoulder. He forced them down anyway, palms flattening against the slick tacky surface. It was warm still, warmer now even. Heat pulsed beneath the material in slow waves. Heat meant energy… and that concerned Satoru.

“It’s fine,” he murmured, and the lie fell apart the second it left his mouth. He shouldn’t have been so hard on him. He should’ve just listened. It was rare for Suguru to open up about anything. Satoru knew it was hard for him, he should’ve kept a level head about it. “It’s- you’re fine, Ru. You hear me? You’re fine. I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

The glow flickered again. It wasn’t random. It was a response. Satoru wasn’t sure to what though. His words? His touch? He went very, very still. A cold line traced its way down his spine. “No,” he said again, quieter, more broken than before. “No, you don’t- you don’t get to-” Satoru couldn’t do this. The suit pulsed in response. Satoru’s stomach dropped.

“No,” there was nothing behind the word. No denial. No force. Just a frayed thread of sound. He tried to pull his hands back now. The material clung to him in goopy strands. It wasn’t grabbing him- it wasn’t attacking. Just… holding. Like it didn’t want to let go. His breath left him in thin pants, his heart fluttered rapidly in its cage.

“You’re not-” he swallowed hard, throat tightening. “You’re not him.” A thin, bright edge of light cut through the dim loft. Satoru’s pulse roared in his ears. It wasn’t just reacting to touch. It was reacting to him. To his voice- the way he said Suguru’s name.

Memories crashed into him, cascaded around him: Suguru laughing at a cafe when Satoru tried a sip of his black coffee; Suguru making a scene about Satoru stealing his hoodies, but then ‘accidentally’ leaving one behind after a visit; Suguru teasing him, leaning too close to see if Satoru would flinch. Every moment burned bright and brutal against the thing sitting between them now.

It knew. Or it was learning. Satoru’s whole body shook. “No,” this time a plea. A prayer. A bargain with some higher power weaving their webs together. “You already got him. That was your whole deal, right? You can’t have us too.”

The suit pulsed again. Stronger this time. And somewhere beneath the layers of synthetic black and alien light, Suguru’s fingers twitched. Hope flared- wild and desperate. “Suguru?” he gasped, leaning closer without thinking. He put their foreheads together, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Hey- hey, come on, stay with me, you’re okay, you’re-”

Suguru’s fingers curled slowly into the front of Satoru’s borrowed shirt. The world fell away. It wasn’t strong. More reflex than reach. The kind of movement the body made from memory alone. Satoru knew that grip- that touch. It sang to his blood, his soul, his very being. Suguru used to do that all the time- on crowded sidewalks, in crosswalks, half-asleep on Satoru’s floor. A lazy, absent tug like gravity worked differently when they were apart.

Suguru had never felt so far away, but that touch was a tether. A broken sound clawed its way out of Satoru’s throat. He didn’t realize he was crying until a droplet hit the mask and ran down Suguru’s concealed face. He sucked in a sharp breath trying to steady himself, trying to pull the pieces of his thoughts back together into something usable. His hands were still shaking where they hovered over the suit’s surface, fingers curling and uncurling like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“Okay,” he whispered hoarsely. “We’re… we’re fine. You’re fine. We’re just- we’re just gotta figure this out.” The words sounded brittle even to his ears.

Then: Suguru inhaled sharply. Not the slow, mechanical rhythm from before. A real breath. It punched the air from Satoru’s lungs. “Suguru?”

The other’s body jerked. One. Twice. Like something had sent electric shocks through his body. Then- He sat up. The movement was clumsy. Too fast in some places, too slow in others. Like Satoru had first moved after being bitten. The suit shifted with him, glossy black stretching like liquid skin as he dragged himself upright. His head lolled forward for a second before lifting.

The mask retracted enough to reveal the upper half of Suguru’s face. His eyes fluttered open. Satoru forgot how to exist. Didn’t know if he wanted to. The amber hued eyes blinking back at him were different. Satoru could tell from the gaze alone that they did not belong to his Suguru. Too bright. Too sharp. Like someone had taken the familiar warmth out of them and only left the shape behind. They were still Suguru’s. They were looking right at him- through him. Satoru felt pinned to the spot.

A broken laugh tore out of his chest before he could try to stuff it down. “Oh my God,” he choked, hands flying up like he didn’t know whether to touch him or grab him or hold him in place so he wouldn’t disappear again. “Oh my God, you’re- you’re awake. You’re-”

The mask pulled back further. Suguru’s mouth parted. For a second nothing came out. As if he lacked the ability to form words or even sounds. Then, rough and uneven: “...Satoru.”

The world righted itself. Forced back into being by one name- his, uttered by Suguru. Hope bloomed hot and fierce in his chest. “Yeah,” Satoru gasped, leaning in so fast their foreheads nearly knocked together. “Yeah, I’m here. I’ve got you, it’s okay-”

Suguru flinched. It was small, almost nothing, really. But Satoru felt it. His smile faltered. Suguru’s gaze didn’t track the way it should have. It lingered in the wrong places, like he was relearning his environment. His pupils were blown wide, swallowing the color whole. The suit clung to him tightly, the edges pulsing faintly under the dim light like something alive trying to stay hidden in shadow.

“Ru?” Satoru whispered softly, fear threading through the name despite himself. “Hey… hey, look at me.”

Suguru did. The action was slow. Far too slow. Like there was resistance somewhere between the command and the motion. His expression didn’t change. No familiar annoyance. No dry sarcasm. No fond exasperation at Satoru’s panic. Just a stillness that didn’t belong on his face. Satoru’s stomach tumbled over itself. But he pushed down the dread and smiled anyway. It was fragile. Desperate. Held together with shaking hands and denial.

“You’re okay,” he said quickly, the words tumbling over each other. “You’re okay, you’re- we’re gonna fix this okay?” He gulped down a breath. “I just- I just need to get you out of this thing and we’ll-” Satoru’s voice broke. “We’ll call Shoko and she’ll yell at us and you’ll pretend you’re not dying and everything will be-”

Suguru’s hand lifted. Satoru’s voice died in his throat. Hope surged again, wild and blinding him to everything that still felt off about Suguru. He leaned forward without thinking, relief crashing into him so hard it hurt. “Yeah,” he mumbled, almost laughing. “Yeah, there you are-”

Suguru’s fingers dusted over his collar, the touch feather light. Barely there. Not grabbing or pushing, just resting. The contact sent a shudder through Satoru’s entire body. “Suguru,” he breathed, closing his eyes for half a second because he couldn’t handle how much it meant. “I knew you were still in there, I knew-”

Suguru’s grip tightened. Pain sparked in Satoru’s throat. His eyes snapped open. Something in Suguru’s face shifted. Not a full expression. Just the smallest tilt of his mouth. The faintest tightening around his eyes. Recognition without warmth. Awareness without affection. And underneath it- Hunger. Satoru’s breath caught around the other’s grip. “Suguru?” he choked out.

Suguru’s head tilted to the side. Like he was studying him. Like he was studying him. Like he was trying to decide something. The suit pulsed. Once. Hard. Satoru didn’t have time to move. Suguru’s hand snapped forward. The world exploded into stars. Pain detonated at the base of Satoru’s skull as his head slammed into the floor. The loft spun violently, sound collapsing into a high, ringing whine. He tasted copper instantly, warm and thick on his tongue.

“S-” His voice came out broken, useless. His limbs wouldn’t listen, His vision smeared into streaks of dark and light. Above him, Suguru stood. Satoru tried to reach for him. His arm barely lifted an inch before pain bloomed through the limb. It dropped uselessly back to the floor. “Suguru,” he rasped, the name more than air now. Pleading. Disbelieving. “Wait-”

Suguru looked down at him. And for one horrible, lucid second- there was something there. Something trapped behind the wrongness. A flicker. A fracture. Something that looked like regret. Then it vanished. The suit swallowed it whole when the mask fell back into place, obscuring Suguru’s face once more. Darkness surged at the edges of Satoru’s vision, thick and inevitable.

“No,” he tried to say, but the word dissolved before it made it past his teeth. His body felt distant, heavy, like it already belonged to the dark, pulling him under. The last thing he saw- Suguru turning away. No hesitation, no glance over his shoulder, just leaving. And then everything went black.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Wednesday October 14th

Satoru woke to silence. Not the soft kind. The empty kind. His head throbbed in slow, brutal waves, each pulse dragging him a little further into consciousness whether he wanted it or not. The loft ceiling swam into view above him, blurry and wrong and horribly still. For a moment, he didn’t remember what had transpired. Then he did.

Satoru sat up so fast he nearly threw up. “Suguru?” The name tore from his lips, raw and terrified. His arm twinged, but the worst of the pain had faded, mended by the spider’s venom pulsing in his veins. Satoru received no answer. The loft remained quiet. Cold air drifted through the space where the window had been shattered. Besides that, everything looked untouched, undisturbed. Like nothing had happened. “No,” Satoru hissed, scrambling to his feet, slipping as the room tilted violently. “No, no, no-”

He turned in a slow circle, panic rising so rapidly it made it difficult to draw in breath. His eyes caught on the couch, the broken glass, the empty space where Suguru had occupied. Gone. Both of them. Suguru and the suit. His knees gave out and his knees hit the floor, but Satoru didn’t feel it. Because the worst part of all this, the part that hollowed him from the inside out, wasn’t that Suguru was gone. It was that for one perfect, fragile moment- Satoru had held him in his arms. And it still hadn’t been enough to keep Suguru safe.

Chapter Text

Wednesday October 14th

The hallway light outside the apartment flickered when she pressed the switch. Once. Twice. Then it steadied into a weak, uneven glow that left most of the corridor in shadow anyway. She sighed, wistfully shaking her head. Satoru had promised to fix it. “I will,” he’d said once, grinning over his shoulder while digging through his backpack for his keys. “It’s just a bulb.” That had been months ago.

She hadn’t liked dark hallways in years, though, not since she’d started trying to live a different kind of life. The habit surfaced before she could stop it- eyes mapping the space automatically. Corners. Sightlines. The distance to the stairwell behind her. Old instincts. Useless ones. Misato forced herself to breathe out slowly and tightened her grip around her key. It shouldn’t have felt foreign in her hand. But she’d been gone a long time now, the apartment less hers than ever.

She stared at the door longer than she meant to. The wood had been scuffed near the handle. Not the usual wear from bags scraping and bumping into it, or Satoru’s careless shoes catching the frame. The marks were clustered too tightly, scraped at the same height more than once. Something heavy. Repeated impact.

Misato’s stomach tightened, but she convinced herself that it was nothing. She basically had two teenagers living here unattended. The marks could’ve been caused by a varying number of things. Misato had already been working overtime to prevent her spiraling anxiety from getting the best of her. She’d told herself a dozen times in the elevator on her way up here. Told herself that she was overreacting. The kids were busy. That Satoru had always been bad at responding to texts.

That was normal for him. Though she worried about the lack of responses from Riko. That wasn’t at all normal, but she knew the young girl was busy. Misato took a deep breath and finally slid the key into the lock. For a moment, she still hesitated. She knew it’d been a lot on the kids, managing the home while she was away for work. For a second, she felt like an intruder in her own home, which was preposterous, but guilt lingered regardless of how pointless it was.

She turned the key. The lock echoed in the quiet of the hall. The door opened without resistance. Cold air drifted to meet her. As if a window had been left open and the heater hadn’t been run in days. It was an empty kind of cold. The kind that lived in places people had abandoned. “Toru?” She called softly, already knowing there’d be no answer. She stepped inside. “Riko?” She called out a little louder this time.

It was dim inside. Curtains half drawn, letting in thin strips of gray afternoon light. Dust floated lazily through it. Misato stepped over the threshold and paused. Silence pressed in immediately. It wasn’t peaceful. It was a marker of absence. The television was off, no murmuring background noise. No music drifted from either of the kids’ rooms. No footsteps approaching to greet her. No restless energy humming through the space, the way it always had when he was home. Just an utter stillness. Satoru had never been good at stillness. Even asleep, he made a room feel occupied. Riko was just as abundant. She could never be overlooked, even when she was seemingly out of sight. 

Her eyes moved slowly across the living room, her back close to the wall. Looking for even the smallest clue to where her kids could be. Her kids. They were, after all, hers. Both of them. Both hers in different ways, neither tied to her by blood, but tethered to her nonetheless. Guilt surged through her again. She had not taken care of them the way she was meant to. She’d been gone too long. Bills piled up, no food in the cupboards or fridge. She thought she’d been doing the right thing, but she was still failing them.

She closed the door behind her out of habit and stood there a moment longer than necessary, letting her eyes adjust. Old habits at work again she scanned the expanse in front of her. Habits she’d spent years trying to unlearn. Grocery stores. Parent-teacher meetings. Normal jobs she could never quite hold onto because she couldn’t stop her impulses. Watching exits, memorizing faces, and small, ordinary details. She’d wanted ordinary so badly it hurt. But ordinary had never quite stuck.

Her eyes tracked over the room. The air in the apartment just felt hollow. No shoes out of place. The old threadbare couch had its pillows artfully arranged, but a blanket lay tangled across it, half on the floor like someone had stood too quickly and never come back to fix it. A mug sat on the coffee table- unwashed, half full. She crossed the room without meaning to, fingers brushing the rim. Cold. “How long…” she murmured under her breath, though she didn’t finish the thought.

The kitchen light flickered on with a soft buzz when she flipped the switch. The refrigerator hummed steadily- the only real sound in the apartment. She opened it automatically. As she feared, it was mostly empty; the only food in there was nonviable. Eggs past their expiration. A bottle of something neon green she didn’t have the stomach to investigate. A container she recognized immediately as Riko’s favorite takeaway. She could tell it was half rancid without opening the top. It was untouched, which wasn’t like her niece to waste food.

The realization landed heavy and immediate. She closed the fridge gently. A faint draft brushed the back of her neck. Her shoulders stiffened. The windows were closed… weren’t they? She turned slowly, eyes moving across the living room again. That was when she saw the wall. At first, she’d thought it was a trick of the light- a shadow falling wrong across the paint. But as she stepped closer, it became clear that there was a crack.

It looked like an impression of someone’s shoulder, like they’d been thrown or pushed into it. It was long and broke off in jagged chunks of drywall. Running up from the baseboard and branching outward into the smaller fractures that split the paint like broken ice. Her breath caught. That hadn’t been there before. She knew it hadn’t. Misato knew force when she saw it. This had been no accident. Not just clumsy movement. This was an intentional impact.

Her stomach sank. From the indention she didn’t think it was Satoru who’d made contact with the wall. The shape fit Riko’s smaller frame better. Her mind tried to build softer explanations anyway. Furniture. A fall. Cousins innocently roughhousing. But the apartment felt interrupted. Like a conversation cut off mid-sentence. A slow unease began to unfurl in her chest. Misato turned towards Riko’s room, the one they shared when she was home.

Riko’s room was dim, light barely washing in through the curtains. The bed was made, but there were clothes littering the floor, and Riko’s tablet had been left abandoned on her desk. Misato knew she wouldn't have left home without it. Riko needed it for school, brought it everywhere with her in case inspiration struck. There was a draft in here, the curtains whispered against the wall as the breeze pushed in. She stepped closer, but stopped when a crunching sound began beneath her foot. Glass littered the floor here. It was like it had been blown inwards. Which was a feat, considering they were on the eighth floor. Misato examined the window, pulling back the curtains. Her eyes caught on something dark along the window seal. It only took Misato a second to realize it was blood. The unease grew in her stomach as she stepped away from the window.

 Her eyes traced the contents of the room. Riko’s coat hung on the back of the door, her bag knocked over on the floor beside it. Misato carefully picked it up and shuffled through its contents. Riko’s wallet was inside: Her ID and Suica card were still there. Riko’s keys and pen case also remained in her bag. Misato placed the bag back down on the floor. She searched the room for Riko’s phone but couldn’t find it.

She quickly left the room, crossing the apartment in quick strides to reach the hallway. Satoru’s door stood half-opened. That wasn’t unusual. Shoulders back, Misato stepped forward. Her knuckles rasped against the ajar door, “Satoru?” She called out again. Nothing beyond the threshold answered. She entered the room, doing her best to keep her breathing leveled. The room beyond was darker. Curtains fully drawn. The air was heavier, like the space had been holding its breath. His bed was unmade: Sheets twisted tight, half pulled free. One corner dragged toward the floor. A pillow lay on the ground; another she believed was missing.

Her eyes moved to the desk, it was empty. No laptop, no scattered papers or opened books, no clutter, he never bothered cleaning. Cleared. A cold sensation bloomed from under her ribs. The absence of clutter- or mess- it was alarming. He’d left nothing essential behind. His bag was gone, no trace of keys, wallet, or his coat. This wasn’t a case of Satoru being forgetful or simply ignoring his phone. He’d left. Before or after Riko, she didn’t know. She only knew that the missing items were too deliberate. Satoru has prepared to leave. Taking the essentials and leaving the rest.

Misato grappled with rationalizing it. She couldn’t smooth any of this over with sound logic. Danger coiled tight around her spine, at levels she hadn’t felt in years. Maybe ever. It was this feeling, though, that had kept her alive in places she tried her damndest to forget. It was what was going to help her figure this out. To keep her kids safe. She was still in the doorway, staring into the hollowed-out room where her nephew slept, and she wasn’t thinking about where he’d gone. Instead, her mind turned over the question of what might have followed him.

She forced herself to step back into the hallway; the weight of the apartment pressed in around her. Every instinct told her something was wrong, but instincts alone didn’t solve problems. Information did. Her eyes moved through the living room again until they landed on the television. She searched for the remote in its usual places. On the coffee table, on the entertainment center, on the arm of the couch. She couldn’t find it. When she was near the point of giving up, she spotted it under the coffee table.

She knelt to grab it, but at the same time, she also found a torn white sleeve. It was slightly bloodied. Misato instantly clocked it for what it was: The cuff to Riko’s uniform shirt. Remote momentarily forgotten, Misato snatched up the fabric. It wasn’t a clean cut; it looked as if the material had been ripped from its garment rather than sliced. Which poised the question: How did blood get here? Misato only took a few moments mulling it over before she placed the scrap neatly on the coffee table and reached for the remote again. 

Static crackled for a moment when she turned on the TV. The screen flickered to life. A daytime news broadcast filled the room with artificial brightness and cheer. Misato didn’t move. She remained kneeling on the floor, one arm braced on the coffee table as she watched.

“...Continuing coverage of a series of unexplained incidents reported through the Shibuya district last night.” The anchor’s voice was professional, calm, practiced in the way people were when they were trying not to alarm anyone. Behind her, the screen showed flashing police lights and blurred footage from a phone camera. Misato’s attention sharpened. “Authorities have confirmed at least three fatalities and several additional injuries following what witnesses describe as a series of violent attacks.”

The footage shifted. A shaky video clip played. Someone had recorded it from an apartment balcony. The camera jerked wildly, struggling to focus on something moving far below. At first, it looked like chaos- people running, shouting. A body lying unmoving on the pavement. Then the camera zoomed. A figure stood in the street. A boy. Dark hair. Thin frame. Geto Suguru rose in her mind unbidden. It couldn’t be him; he was an adult now, and he was in the States. But the boy looked so much like Geto had the last time she’d seen him. Thin, almost hollowed out. Dark hair untamed and falling in his eyes. Her mind was making connections that weren’t there.

Even through the grainy footage, Misato could tell that something about him was wrong. He wasn’t running. He wasn’t panicking. The boy just stood there. The camera operator whispered something in the background, voice trembling. The boy’s head turned suddenly toward the camera. The footage cut out immediately. Back in the studio, the anchor continued carefully. “Police have not yet identified the individual seen in the footage, but multiple witnesses describe him as a teenage male appearing disoriented or in distress.”

Misato’s gaze narrowed. The screen shifted again. Security footage now. A corner store. Timestamped 02:14. The same boy stumbled into frame. He moved like he’d forgotten how his body worked. One step too slow, the next too fast. A strange, uneven rhythm. Someone approached him and the clip ended abruptly. The anchor cleared her throat. “Authorities have not released details regarding the circumstances surrounding the fatalities, but officials urge the public to remain cautious and report any suspicious activity.”

The words were carefully crafted. Each consonant and syllable was uttered perfectly. Misato muted the television. Silence returned to the apartment, but the images lingered on the screen. She stared at the still frame of the boy. Something about the footage unsettled her more than the violence. It wasn’t just that he’d been present at the scenes. It was how people had reacted around him. They hadn’t been chasing him; it was more like they were afraid to approach him. Her mind replayed the brief moment before the clip had cut.

The way the boy had turned. Too fast. Too aware. Misato leaned forward slightly. Years of watching people for a living had taught her one thing above all else: You can tell when someone was being hunted. And you can tell when someone was the hunter. Her eyes drifted back towards the hallway. Toward Satoru’s empty room. A cold weight settled in her chest. If that boy had been wandering the streets last night… then whatever had happened here… had not ended in this apartment.

Misato reached for her phone. If something had followed Satoru out into the streets last night… She intended to find it before it had the chance to act against Satoru again.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Hospitals were never truly silent. There was always something- distant carts rolling across tile, muffled voices behind curtains, the rhythmic beeping of monitors filtering through the walls. The building was a living organism, always moving, always breathing. But not this hospital. The corridor felt like it was holding its breath. Shoko exhaled slowly and flexed her fingers. The blue tint had already begun to fade from them as warmth returned to the air. Whatever that had been… it had left with the stranger. Good.

That meant it wasn’t tied to Riko’s room. She pushed the door open again. Riko hadn’t moved, she didn’t have a single hair out of place. The girl still slept, curled on her side beneath the hospital blanket, hair spilling across the pillow, breathing slow and even. The monitor beside the bed ticked along in soft green pulses.

Heart Rate: Normal

Oxygen Saturation: Normal

Respiration: Normal

Too normal. Shoko quietly closed the door behind her before carefully crossing the room to reach Riko’s hospital bed. She stood there for a second longer than necessary, eyes flicking between the monitor and the girl lying there. Riko was unlike any other sedated patient Shoko had encountered. There should've been some sort of fluctuation -a minor irregularity, a dip in oxygen, a hitch in respiration. The human body did not hold a perfect baseline under chemical suppression. Her body would have responded in some way by this point. Fought against it, showed resistance. Something. But it hadn't. Her body wasn’t doing anything. It was shell-like, as in Riko had been scooped out of it, soul cleaved away while her flesh remained here.

“Alright," Shoko murmured under her breath, "Let's take a look."

She pulled the swivel chair in with her foot and sat, the wheels giving a soft squeak as they rolled across the tile. Shoko's hand hesitated, hovering just above Riko’s wrist. She let out a low breath allowing the rest of her trepidation to leave her. Gently, she encircled Riko's wrist. Her skin was icy, cold enough that Shoko recoiled. Eyes darting to the monitor, she could see the base body temp still read 97.8. Shoko's brows furrowed. There was no way. The girl felt like an ice cube; she'd examined corpses warmer than this. Her fingers encircled Riko’s wrist again. Shoko pushed past her discomfort. Focused on detecting the pulse. There was nothing atypical. Her finger pressed firmer against the inside of the girl’s wrist, searching for any sign of variance. 

At first nothing unusual stood out to her. Just the same steady rhythm. Even and controlled. Shoko’s lips pressed into a thin line. She adjusted her grip again. Slightly angling her fingers further along the artery. Shoko waited. Six seconds. Eight seconds. 10. There. A hitch. So faint she almost missed it. Shoko fell instantly still. She blinked before glancing back up at the screens. Nothing had changed. The steady line indicating her pulse was unaltered. The beat of it continued beneath the pads of her fingers. Unwavering- Mechanical in its precision.

But underneath a new pattern emerged. Something slower. Another pulse, dragging and lagging behind the other. As if it were struggling to surface beneath the stronger beat layered over it. Shoko’s breath caught, her mind racing to turn over every plausible explanation before she even really had a chance to grasp her discovery. “It can’t be,” her breath caught,as she applied more pressure to the artery. The stronger pulse did not try to compensate for the added stress. It remained steadfast, no faltering, keeping close to its course. But the second beat- it stuttered faintly, adjusting to the change. It pulsed again, more sluggish and uneven than before. Like a slithering serpent caught under debris.

Shoko jerked away from the body, her hand releasing Riko’s wrist like it’d bit her. Heart slamming in quick succession against her ribs, the force of it echoed in her ears. “That’s not possible…” the words punched out of her, oxygen seemingly becoming scarce. Her eyes snapped up to the screens displaying Riko’s vitals. Still, they remained unchanged. No sign of that second pulse anywhere. Shoko’s gaze fell to Riko. To the small girl lying there beneath the scratchy hospital blanket, still and silent as the dead. To the body, that by all visible metrics, was functioning exactly as it should. And yet… What sick monster would want to hurt an innocent kid? 

Shoko lifted her hand again, she didn’t hesitate. She pressed the pads of her fingers to the aery again and waited. Counted. One. Two. Three. The steady rhythm ticked along. One. Two. There. Late. lagging behind. A second pulse. Weak, yes, but real. Shoko leaned her forehead against the railing of the bed. “Riko, sweetheart, just give me a sign.” She watched the girl's face. Riko's eyes were moving behind their lids. Shoko brought her free hand up and ran the back of her fingers along Riko’s cheekbone. "I'm fighting for you, but you gotta fight too, hon.” Another hitch to her breath as if in answer.

She pressed a feather light kiss to the girl’s temple. She’s in there. Somewhere. That was clear now. Shoko had no idea what they’d done. But she knew Riko was still reachable. They might’ve suppressed her true nature, but the girl was a fighter through and through. She didn’t understand what these people were after, but she was confident they wanted Riko’s body unharmed. That they’d do everything necessary to keep the girl in this state. At least until they get what they’re after or are ready to proceed with their next phase.

Her hand moved to the pocket of the lab coat she still wore. Glass Clinked together. Slowly, she withdrew six glass vials. “I'm sorry for the pinch, but I'm going to have to do this manually.” Shoko knew they were being monitored, was well aware that her next choice would paint a bigger target on her back. That it could very well cost her life. But it was a price Shoko was willing to pay if it helped Riko. If it helped Satoru, who was the closest thing she had to family aside From Utahime. Carefully, she set the vials down and pulled a syringe from her other pocket. She’d drawn blood hundreds of times over her four years in school. It was with practiced ease and efficiency that she stuck the needle into Riko’s vein and pulled the plunger.

In rapid succession, she filled the syringe and emptied its contents into an awaiting vial. Once all six glass tubes were filled, she applied gauze to the puncture site. Waiting a few beats, Shoko listened for any alarms. Any indication at all that she was about to be apprehended. Nothing happened. She let out a hurried breath and tossed the bloodied gauze in the biohazards bin. Methodically, Shoko then wrapped the vials carefully in gauze, padding them with cotton balls. She didn’t want any to break in her pocket.

Tossing the used syringe in the biohazard bin as well, she turned for the door. This was going to be the hardest part. Leaving Riko alone here. Breaking her promise to Satoru to keep a close eye on her, to ensure her safety. Shoko believed this was the best course of action. She’d take the blood back with her to the lab at the university. Away from the everwatchful eye of the quiet hospital. She was taking a huge chance. There was the keen possibility that she would not be allowed back in. Trespassed or worse. Shoko had to hope that her assumptions were correct. That no harm would come to Riko as long as these people still had use for her.

Shoko’s steps faltered, despite her efforts to will them not to. Her legs wobbled like gelatine and her heart raced in her chest. She dodged patients, visitors, and hospital staff, taking great care not to jostle the vials in her pocket. The waiting main emergency room waiting area was just ahead. Shoko barely noticed the group of people standing in a crowded circle in front of the only functioning TV. The exit was within sight. She’d be out of here in mere moments. Exchanging antiseptic air for the fresh scent of rain on pavement. Shoko had been confined here for 72 hours and she was more than ready to be free of it.

A few steps from the entrance, someone knocked into her. She was about to turn to snap at them when the footage on the TV caught her eye. It was a boy. Pale. Dark hair. Tall and slender, bordering malnourished. And dark, hungry eyes. Shoko stopped dead in her tracks. Tetering on a precipice. It was a trick. A coincidence. She took a step toward the group of people. The TV was muted, but there were subtitles. ...Continuing coverage of a series of unexplained incidents reported through the Shibuya district last night. 

Footage played of a boy standing alone. He looked dazed, lost in a fog too thick to find his way out of. Shoko’s stomach curdled. She knew him. She’d met him on a meal table. Scalpel deep in his sternum. During an autopsy for a lab. Months ago. She was sure of it. The boy on the TV turned towards the camera and the feed cut out. Shoko’s ears were ringing. She didn’t understand, but she didn’t have to. Turning quickly, she ran out the front entrance of the hospital and didn’t look back.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

? ? ?

Sue woke choking on antiseptic. The smell hit first. Sharp, sterile, and thick enough to coat the back of her throat. Then came the cold. Not the ambient chill of the containment wing, nor the metallic, conditioned cold she’d grown used to over the time she’s been held captive. This was a wet cold. The air hung heavy around her, denser than before. It clung to her skin beneath the thin hospital gown like frost to early morning snow. It settled into her bones like she’d gone down in icy waters and was left out there to dry.

Slowly, she cracked open an eye. Dimness greeted her. Low red emergency lighting pulsed dimly overhead, washing the room in intermittent crimson. Every few seconds the light deepened, then reduced again. Her eyes strained from watching it and her head thudded with a dull pressure. Sue inhaled sharply. Pain latticed through her ribs. Sharp and blinding. She was thankful she was already prone, otherwise she might faint. For a brief passing, Sue remained still as she collected her thoughts.

Her eyes shut tightly against the onslaught of fragmented memories. Itadori screaming. The cowering boy from the unmarked cell. The thing that ripped out of him. Dr. Kaido’s sick smile. Her stomach twisted. She tried to sit up, feeling as if she were going to be sick. Restraints stopped her immediately. The clang of them against the table reverberated through the cell. Her wrists jerked painfully against reinforced metal cuffs bolted directly into the table beneath her. Amidst her struggle, she made out a faint clank in the room.

Immediately, she stopped moving. Straining her ears, she listened. No alarms. No footsteps. No voices. The only sound to greet her was the hum of machines. A low mechanical vibration somewhere far beyond the walls. Her breathing quickened despite herself as she tried to take in her surroundings. Despite the dim cast of the red emergency lights, Sue could tell the room was different. The dimensions were smaller. There were no observation windows in her line of sight. Which meant she was unsure if there were any neighboring cells. Just solid walls and the rhythmic pulse of the red lights.

Her pulse hammered in her throat, echoed in her ears. “Hello?” she called, her voice rough from disuse… or screaming. A full body shudder racked her body. Her mind circled back to the boy… that creature. Nothing answered her. Still no other noise in the dim beside the hum of machines. Panic rose, heady and fast, clawing at the inside of her chest. No. No, don’t do this. Don’t panic. Think. Think.

Sue’s fingers curled against the restraints instinctively testing the give. There was none. Whoever secured her this time learned from Itadori’s escape attempt. Even if he managed to wrangle free, she had little delusion that he’d be able to facilitate another breakout. The metal bit into her skin when she pulled harder. Honestly, she was tired. She stopped pulling. Her body still weary, even if she could somehow pull free, there’d be nowhere safe to go. She no longer knew where they were at in the facility. Everyone was likely split up. Many of which were probably injured.

Eyes growing heavy, Sue let them fall closed for a beat. She focused on her breathing. Counted backward from 10. The trick didn’t work nearly as well as it used to. Something felt wrong with the air. Too still, too stale. It felt hollow in a way Sue couldn’t grasp. Like the room had been stripped of its essence. Something essential. Like panic had lived there long enough to wear the walls thin. To chase away anything too human. The room felt spiritually vacant. As if an act so vile had occurred that it ripped the feeling of humanity right out of the atmosphere, leaving nothing but a hollow shell behind.

Somewhere in the dark, a sound drew Sue’s attention. Eyes snapping open again. The sound: Soft and wet. For a brief reprieve she was able to convince herself that she’d imagined it. The noise had been so faint, it would’ve easily blended into the low hum of the machines vibrating through the surrounding walls. But now that she was seeking it, Sue heard it again. A drag. Like something drenched was slowly pulled over the floor just beyond her cell. What little vision she had spun while her pulse climbed. Blood roared hot against the icy chill settling into her skin. Muscle and sinew tensed as her body instinctively pulled against the restraints.

The sound stopped, followed only by silence. No footsteps or voices. The red light remained. Washing the room in crimson before dimming once more. It followed the pattern set out for it. As the light swelled again, Sue caught sight of something near the far wall she hadn’t been able to see before. The concrete had been marred. Scratches fanned out in a circular pattern. Like something had been moved back and forth again and again. She waited for the light to brighten. Focused on the spot with all the concentration she had left.

Then she noticed. The marks started at the base of the cabinet, then arched out following the pattern of a door opening. When the room was bathed in crimson again, she noticed something else. Something that made her feel faint despite already laying prone. Deeper gouges in the concrete. Scratches. Random and desperate. Unlike the other marks, which Sue suspected were made by a secret door. Possibly the only door leading in and out of this room. The noise started again. Her stomach performed somersaults, skin suddenly clammy, salivary glands overreacting. Someone was out there. Or something.

Sue’s fingers curled tightly against the restraints. “Hello?” She called again, meeker than before. Sue wasn’t sure if she truly wanted to know who or what lies beyond. Tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but couldn’t. Susan Storm wanted to go home. She wanted her brother. It had been a long time since she’d been reduced to such a small state. She felt like a little girl who had just lost her parents. Terrified and grieving something she didn’t fully comprehend. As silent tears streamed down her cheeks, the noise stopped once more. It sounded like it stopped near the false cabinet. She desperately tried to stay silent, to not move even an inch. But the force of her tears were making it difficult to contain her breathing. The silence around her pressed inward. She was holding her breath. 

A soft scrape against the metal. Not a knock. Fingernails grating against it. A sob escaped her as her throat constricted painfully. Fear bullying its way past all rationale. Sue struggled against her restraints again. Survival instincts roared at her not to speak again, but she couldn’t control how the sobs racked her body and echoed off the walls. The room was awash in crimson and through pinched lids Sue could see a shadow shifting beneath the cabinet. Not a trick of the light. Sue’s breath hitched violently in her throat. Her body went so stiff it ached. Instincts begged her to look away, but she couldn’t shut her eyes against the shadow. Couldn’t stop staring at the thin strip of darkness beneath the cabinet.

The shadow moved again. Closer this time. A new sound accompanying it. A faint hitch in breathing that sounded painfully human. Another sob bubbled past her lips before she could swallow it down. Tears blurred her vision turning the red emergency lights into smeared ribbons. She jerked hard against the metal holding her down, the restraints biting into her skin. She sent a silent plea: God please. Do not let it come in here. Please.

Creaking sounded as the cabinet shifted slightly. It was enough for a thin seam to appear between the wall and false panel. Darkness bled through the crack. Sue stopped breathing altogether. The opening widened another inch with a low mechanical groan. Cold air spilled through first. Sue didn’t think it was possible to grow any colder. Her body involuntarily shuddered as the wind kissed her skin. With it came the smell of copper and rot. Antiseptic desperately trying and failing to mask the growing stench. Sue gagged, forcing her to take a deeper breath than she wanted to. She thought it might be human. But only barely. Blood slicked their fingers so thickly it dripped onto the concrete in a slow, sporadic beat. Their hands trembled with the force they used to hold onto the cabinet, the metal squealing under the pressure.

Another sound came from beyond the opening. Not monstrous or animalistic. Crying. Soft and broken. Purely human. Sue’s pulse thundered in her ears as the cabinet dragged open a few more inches. A boy stumbled in. Sue recognized him instantly. Or what she could see of him at least. Dark hair clumped against his face with blood as thick as mud. His clothing was soaked nearly black down just one side of his body. He hit the ground hard on one of his knees the second he emerged, one shaking hand braced against the concrete to keep himself upright.

The boy from the isolated containment room. The one with the thing inside him. His chest heaved violently, and Sue couldn’t tell if it was from pain or exertion. Sue’s eyes darted wildly over him searching for injuries before immediately wishing she hadn’t. Black veins pulsed beneath the skin of his neck. Threading slowly upward beneath pale flesh like snakes in a riverbed. Sue made a sound trapped somewhere between a gasp and a whimper. The boy flinched before his head snapped up to gaze at her. For one horrible second, as the light strobed, Sue saw his eyes clearly. One pupil blown wide, all blacked out. The other ordinary, and far too human for her to grapple with. The human eye conveyed a terror so palpable that it sent another shudder through Sue’s body. “Please,” he whispered. His voice cracked around the word.

Behind him something moved in the darkness beyond the hidden passage. The boy heard it. Sue watched the exact moment panic overtook him. “No,” he whispered, body trembling harder now. “No no no no-” He slammed his bloodied hand against the cabinet controls. The hidden door began grinding shut behind him. Too slowly. Something hit the other side hard enough to shake the wall. Sue screamed. The boy did too.

Chapter Text

? ? ?

Otto Octavius knew deep in his marrow that something was wrong before he even made it up the steps. He’d been away longer than he’d anticipated. The city was nearing a total lockdown amidst the chaos erupting. It made it difficult for him to obtain supplies and navigate the streets that were being overrun with police. It had a nostalgic sort of tinge to it. This was what home was like typically back in New York. But he never thought he’d see Tokyo prefecture in a state of utter turmoil. Citizens frantically buying up supplies, police patrols stopping anyone who looked even minutely suspicious.

Now standing before the previously vacant building, Otto knew he should’ve rushed back here faster. As soon as he’d heard reports of violent acts committed by zombified teenagers and a dark ominous monster stalking the streets, he should’ve dropped everything to come back. To ensure the boys were safe. He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. His cane clicked softly against the concrete steps as he climbed. The old injury in his leg protested the effort immediately, a familiar dull ache threading up through his knee. Otto simply ignored it. He’d long since grown accustomed to working through pain.

What unsettled him was the smell surrounding the old loft. Burnt circuitry. Chemical residue. And beneath it all- copper. Faint but unmistakable. Blood. His jaw tightened as he bounded up the last four stairs. The front door was left ajar. Concerning. He pushed his wired glasses back up his nose and took a look around from the porch.“Peter?” He called out as loudly as he dared. He wanted to alert the boys to his presence, but he didn’t want to alert anyone else to their whereabouts. They were in a remote location, yes. But Otto knew better. There were eyes and ears everywhere. He took a step closer to the door, but didn’t cross its threshold. Unease settled heavily in his chest.

Otto carefully reached out for the knob only to be met with a thick sticky substance. When he tried to pull back he was met with subtle resistance until the substance snapped. Frowning down at his hand he shouldered his way inside. The loft looked like a bomb had gone off inside. Papers littered the floor in every direction, entire notebooks ripped apart and scattered between overturned furniture and shattered glass. One of the windows along the far wall had been completely blown inward, jagged shards still clinging dangerously to the frame. Cold night air slipped through the gaping hole, stirring loose pages across the floor in soft skittering waves.

Sticky silver residue coated half the loft. Walls, floors, ceiling, and furniture. It stretched in thick strands between surfaces like grotesque spider silk, glimmering faintly whenever the city light caught it. Otto stared. He didn’t know what to make of it. Cringing slightly, he let out another sigh. “...Good lord.” The residue climbed all the way up one wall in frantic overlapping streaks, as if someone had tried to scale the loft’s interior. His eyes tracked its path. No. Not tried. Succeeded it seems. A long drag mark scored through the webbing near the broken window. Otto followed it. The trail ended beside a dark stain soaking the hardwood. Blood.

Far more than he wanted to see. His stomach twisted. Throwing caution to the wind he called out, “Gojo! Suguru!” His tone sharper than before. Still no answer. No sign of the boys. Worse, no sign of the suit. The table it was left on was a pile of splinters. He hoped it wasn’t the suits doing. He paused, listening to the creaking and groaning that naturally accompanied the loft. However, there was also a low hum. Something electrical somewhere below. Otto’s eyes narrowed. “The lab, of course.”

Carefully navigating through the dense field of debris, Otto crossed the apartment. Several overturned chemistry textbooks had collapsed near the stairwell entrance alongside a horde of dismantled electronics and a pair of cracked goggles. “I liked those goggles.” A half finished schematic was pinned to the wall with crowded shaky handwriting scrawled across it in red ink: Tensile failure @ 195.045kg (430lbs). Not enough. Beneath that was another note: again. again. again. Followed by an angry doodle he couldn’t decipher. Otto frowned.

The lower level glowed faintly beneath the crack of the basement door. Light flickered rhythmically from below accompanied by the sharp metallic sound of tools striking against metal. Fast. Relentless. Again. Again. Again. Otto descended slowly. The deeper he went, the warmer the air became. Thick with chemical fumes and overheated circuitry. By the time he reached the bottom step, the smell alone was enough to sting his eyes. And there-

Gojo stood hunched over the central workbench like a man possessed. For a moment Otto genuinely failed to recognize him. The boy looked wrecked. If Otto thought he’d looked worse for wear before, this was a whole new level. Otto could see the threads holding Gojo unraveling in real time. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes so deeply his irises nearly appeared purple in the harsh fluorescent lighting. His white hair was tied messily away from his face with what looked suspiciously like electrical wiring. Ink stains, grease, and dried blood marked his arms and hands in uneven streaks disappearing beneath the sleeves of an oversized black crewneck. 

Suguru’s crewneck. Otto recognized it immediately. His chest tightened as he began to understand the picture in full. Missing suit. Missing Suguru. Frantic, desperate boy left behind. He hoped he was wrong. Prayed Suguru was taking a smoke break and they’d just relocated the suit. The workbench around Gojo was absolute chaos. Disassembled components, chemical canisters, burned fabric samples, and lengths of reinforced polymer. This kid has been dismantling everything down here for scraps. Several shattered prototypes littered the floor nearby like discarded exoskeletons. And in the center of it all sat a sleek silver gauntlet clamped into a vice while Gojo soldered wiring into its underside with impressively terrifying speed. Not frantic or sloppy. Just precise.

Every movement razor sharp despite the obvious exhaustion dragging him down. Otto stood there for several seconds before he realized the boy hadn’t noticed him. Too focused on the task at hand… or rather just mentally vacant. That’s what Otto suspected anyway. Gojo wasn’t in his right mind. Acting far too extreme and without an ounce of self preservation. “Gojo?”

The soldering iron paused midair. Slowly, Gojo looked up. His eyes were bloodshot. From sleeplessness. Obsession. For one brief second recognition flickered across his face. Then it vanished beneath immediate irritation. “You’re late,” he said flatly.

Otto blinked. “Late?”

“The tensile polymer destabilizes after six hours unless continuously agitated.” Gojo turned back toward the workbench while speaking, already reaching for another tool. “I needed your help recalibrating the solvent ratios.”

Otto’s mouth fell open as he stared at the boy’s back. No greeting. No explanation. No acknowledgment of the state of the loft. Just… back to work. “The prefecture is essentially under lockdown. Have you been keeping up with the news?” Otto asked, taking a calculated step forward.

“You’ve been gone for three days.”

“Satoru.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s been longer than three days.”

“Mm.”

“Gojo, where’s-”

The boy turned abruptly. “I know how long it’s been,” he snapped. Satoru looked down at his hands and picked at his busted nails. Quieter he mumbled, “I know. It’s been…” he trailed off, then turned back to his work.

It’d been six days. And Otto let the guilt of that settle on his shoulders as he watched Gojo’s hands continue moving at impossible speed across the workbench. Steady and efficient. Not a tremble in sight. A well oiled machine. “You’re injured,” Otto observed.

“I’m busy.”

“That wasn’t a denial.”

The boy finally stopped moving. Silence blanketed the lab. For the first time since Otto arrived, Gojo seemed to truly register the other person standing in the room with him. Slowly, he set the soldering iron down. His shoulders remained rigid. Like a piano wire pulled too tight. Then, without looking up he admitted, “He’s gone.”

For a moment Satoru seemed like a lost child. Otto’s chest tightened. He’d hoped he’d misunderstood. Gone. Such a small word. Not dead or taken. Just gone. The distinction mattered. Because Gojo wasn’t speaking for a friend. He was speaking like someone mourning one. Slowly, Otto set his cane against the edge of a vacant worktable. “Tell me what happened.”

Gojo laughed. No humor in it at all. Too sharp and breathy. “He’s gone. He let the suit use him. It… He’s gone.” The words landed with a sickening finality.

Otto felt his stomach drop. No. “No, he wouldn’t,” he said immediately.

The boy finally looked at him. His eyes held no anger. He wasn’t crying. It was worse. Satoru’s eyes were empty. “He did.” Silence crept in again. The only sound was the hum emitted by the fluorescent lights above. Somewhere a machine clicked softly as it completed whatever process Gojo had abandoned to acknowledge Otto’s presence. Otto found himself staring at the oversized crewneck. At the grease stains. At the                                                                                                                                                                                  blood. At the dark circles beneath the boy’s eyes.

And suddenly the state of the loft upstairs made a lot more sense. It explained the broken window and the blood. The frantic state it’d been left in with all of Satoru’s desperate notes. Six days. Dear God. “Satoru-”

“Don’t.” He snapped like a wounded animal who’d been backed into the corner. Violent and snarling. Satoru turned away again san snatched up a wrench. “Don’t do that.”

Otto’s eyebrows pinched together. “Do what?”

“Look at me like that. Use that tone of voice with me. Just don’t.” The wrench slipped. Clattered loudly across the workbench. For the first time since Otto had arrived, Satoru’s hands shook. Only for a second. Then he grabbed another tool. Focused on another distraction. Let the mask fall into place once more. Anything to keep moving, to keep the thoughts at bay. Because if he stopped-

Otto understood. In a constant state of motion, you don’t have to focus on the pain. There’s always another project waiting, some other mundane task to push the feelings away. But the moment you stop, you have to feel it, live with it. You have to accept that it happened. And Satoru couldn’t do that.

“He attacked me.” The admission was quiet, almost conversational. Satoru adjusted a component on the gauntlet. Checked a measurement and wrote something down. Not once did he look back at Otto. “He woke up,” Satoru swallowed hard. “He sat up.” The room felt very still as Otto continued to listen to the reluctant confession. For six days he’d assumed the boys were fine. Just laying low like they’d been told. He’d imagined them passing the time a hundred different ways. He’d once been young and in love, too. The love between those two boys didn’t need to be announced. Even a fool would catch on. For things to turn out like this… it was more than just a tragedy.

“He talked to me,” Satoru’s voice broke half way through the sentence. The boy looked much younger than 22. Exhausted and lost, and really just a kid. “He knew who I was.”

Otto closed his eyes. Oh no…

“He was in there.” The other tool slipped from his grasp. This time Satoru didn’t replace it. “He was really there.” The silence that followed was unbearable. But Otto didn’t want to push him too hard. He waited, though he suspected he knew what the boy would say. He’d been witness to enough tragedy in his thirty 35 years of life to recognize when hope turns into a dagger.

“He fought it,” Satoru’s jaw clenched. “He tried. Really, he did.” The lights buzzed overhead. Neither moved. Both were silent for a beat as Satoru collected himself. Otto waited for the other shoe to drop. “He still threw me against a wall.” The laugh that followed was small and broken. “Guess it won.”

Otto didn’t know what to say. Were there words big enough to encapsulate all of this? Surely there were words people were supposed to use in moments like this. Comfort, reassurance, hope. None of it was enough to console a child who’d lost everything. Not here. Not with the evidence spread across every surface of the room. Not after six sleep deprived days spent in a laboratory. Six days of rebuilding the same failed prototype. Six days of staring at a door hoping for nothing more than the one person to walk through that he knew never would. Instead, Otto asked the only question that mattered. “What’s all this?”

Satoru stared at the half finished gauntlet, at the formulas, at the scraps of polymer, and chemical compounds. He took in the mountain of obsession he’d built around himself. When he finally answered, his icy blue gaze meeting Otto’s, his voice was steady: “The key to bringing him back.”

The words settled heavily between them. Not to find or to save. Just bring him back. Otto looked around the laboratory again. Really taking everything in this time. At first glance it appeared chaotic. Desperate, even. The product of grief and no sleep. But beneath the clutter there was structure. An organization system only another scientist could spot. Piles of failures and almost successes. Methodical notes. Every discarded prototype had been labeled. Every formula revision documented. Every failed test was recorded. This wasn’t the work of someone falling apart. It was the work of someone refusing to. Which scared him a little. Obsession to this degree pushed people to do wicked things. 

Slowly, Otto crossed the room. Satoru didn’t stop him. Didn’t attempt to hide anything. Perhaps because he was simply too exhausted. Or perhaps he no longer cared. Otto picked up a notebook. The first several pages were covered in equations. The next held diagrams. Then material stress analyses. Chemical breakdowns followed. Next were observations. Pages and pages worth. Otto’s eyebrows slowly climbed. “What exactly am I looking at?”

Satoru rubbed tiredly at one eye. “My webbing.”

Otto glanced up. “Your what?”

The younger man gestured vaguely toward one corner of the room. Only then did Otto notice several sealed specimen containers. Inside them sat small samples of the strange silver substance coating the loft upstairs. Otto approached immediately. His scientific curiosity overrode everything else. The material looked unlike anything he’d ever encountered. It wasn’t quite liquid. Wasn’t quite solid. It existed in that fragile inbetween state. Adaptive, reactive, almost alive. He frowned. “Where’d you get this?” Satoru stared at him, then looked down at his own wrists. Otto blinked. “...Oh.” An awkward pause. “Oh!”

Satoru snorted despite himself. The sound was brief and fragile. But it was reassuringly human. The first sign he’d given Otto that he could withstand this. “I got bit by a genetically modified spider.”

Otto’s mouth fell open. For the second time. He recovered quickly though. “Of course you did.”

“You’re taking it surprisingly well.”

“Nothing really surprises me anymore. I met a living alien biotech suit last week. This is nothing.”

“...Fair.”

Silence returned, though it was less suffocating now. Otto picked up another notebook. This one contained tensile strength tests. Web elasticity calculations. We dispersal patterns. Velocity estimates. His eyes widened. “You’ve been studying this.” An observation, not a question.

Gojo looked almost offended. “What else was I supposed to do?”

“Sleep.”

“No.”

“Eat.”

“No.”

“Seek medical attention.”

“I was laying low! Instructions given by you, by the way. Also, I don’t really need medical aid. I have healing abilities.”

“Really?”
“Yes.”

“Okay. At least you’re consistent.”

Satoru ignored him and Otto returned to flipping through the pages of notes. The calculations became increasingly sophisticated. Not the work of a gifted student. Nor the work of a particularly intelligent grad student. It was the work of a true scientist. One operating at an alarming level. “Did the spider give you super brains, too?”

“No, I’ve always had those,” Satoru quickly quipped back.

“So you conducted these tests yourself?”

Gojo looked around. “Do you see anyone else here?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Well, mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“The walls helped,” Gojo shrugged.

Otto decided not to ask for him to elaborate. For his own sanity. Good to see he’s still got a sense of humor. As he continued to read through the notes, he found the problem several pages later. Repeatedly circled. Repeatedly highlighted. Repeatedly underlined. LIMITED LOAD BEARING CAPACITY. NOT SUFFICIENT FOR SWINGING. Otto nodded slowly. “Your webbing disperses too broadly. Too similar to mist than it is to rope.”

“Exactly.” Satoru had finally walked up beside him. His face alight with genuine interest rather than hollowed grief. Not a big change, but enough of one to squeeze Otto’s heart. “My body produces enough of it, but the density isn’t right.” He pointed toward another chart. “I can catch things.” Another. “Slow falls.” Another. “Anchor short distances.” Then he jabbed a finger at the page. “But I can’t swing. Can’t pull things back towards me. Can’t catch anything heavy falling at a high velocity.” His frustration finally surfaced. Raw and tangible. “I can’t maintain the structural integrity long enough.”

Otto found himself smiling despite the circumstances. There he was. A problem solver. A scientist. Still buried under all the grief. Just like his parents. If only they could see their brilliant son, the supposed heir to their legacy. His mother would’ve had a field day. His smile faltered at the thought. “You don’t need to make your webbing stronger.”

Satoru frowned. “Then what do you suggest?”

“Artificial web fluid.”

The boy’s eyebrows pinched together. His hand covered his lower face while he concentrated. “Oh.”

Otto nodded. “Oh indeed, my boy.”

The younger man’s eyes sharpened. Otto practically watched the gears turn behind crystal blue pools. Formula revisions, delivery systems. Chemical possibilities. Dozens of calculations firing simultaneously behind those impossibly blue eyes. “You’ve already thought about it.” Otto pointed out. Satoru looked away and that was enough of an answer. “You have a design.” No response. “Oh, you absolutely have a design.” Still nothing. Otto laughed. The first genuine sound to fill the room since he’d arrived. “Show me.”

Reluctantly, Satoru slid a stack of papers across the table. Otto could sense the kid’s restlessness as he examined them. He blinked down at the pages. “Good lord.”

Satoru froze. “What?”

“This is actually really good, kid.”

The other’s expression soured. “I know it’s good.”

Otto looked up. “You developed this in six days. It’s impressive.”

For the first time since Otto had met him, Satoru looked genuinely uncomfortable. Otto understood why immediately. Praise felt wrong in a time like this. Praise required feeling proud of one’s accomplishments. And Satoru wasn’t allowing himself that luxury. Instead the boy redirected.

“What about the solvent ratio?”

Otto smirked. “There he is.”

Gojo scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Who are you referring to?”

“The scientist,” Otto answered easily, a smile stretching his lips.

The boy’s eyeroll came automatically. “Can we please focus?”

“I am focused.” Otto held up a stack of papers. “I’m trying to discern whether you're a genius or a public safety hazard.”

“Why can’t I be both? Most famous scientists are.”

“That statement isn’t reassuring.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

Otto snorted and returned his attention to the notes. The deeper he read the quieter he became. Even upon second glance the pages appeared chaotic. Equations spilled into the margins, chemical formulas overlapped crude mechanical sketches. Entire sections had been written in blue ink and then overwritten with red. Otto could barely make heads or tails of it, but there was an underlying structure. A distinct method to Gojo’s madness. Every dead end he’d run into was documented. Every variable is easily tracked and every mistake analyzed. He flipped a page, then another. His brows climbed steadily higher.

Pressure calculations. Polymer compositions. Tensile strength estimates. Flow rate analyses. The boy had essentially built an entire research project himself. “How many prototypes?”

Gojo squinted and rubbed his eyes with a closed first. “Did you bring the thing I asked for?”

It took Otto a moment to remember himself. “Oh, yes. I did.” From his bag he produced a pair of circular black mirrored sunglasses.

Satoru wasted no time snatching them away and placing them on his face. “It all depends, really.”

Otto watched him. “Depends on what?”

“Whether we’re counting the ones that exploded.”

Silence followed. Otto lowered the paper he held and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Gojo?”

For a moment the boy did not respond. He stared hard at the ground, his white eyelashes fluttering behind the glasses as he tried to blink the strain from his eyes. “What?”

“How many exploded?”

Gojo toed at a spot on the floor. Otto knew immediately that he’d hate the answer. “...Five.”

“Five?”

“Six at most.”

“Six at most?”

“There was some overlap,” Gojo shrugged.

Otto closed his eyes. “How does an explosion overlap?”

“Well one exploded in response to another exploding. Which was a bummer because I hadn’t really studied that one yet.”

“That does not improve the situation.”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I wasn’t trying to do that, then.”

“Right, that’s evidently apparent.”

Satoru’s mouth twitched. But the kid didn’t let the smile bloom. But Otto caught the tail end of it. And it reassured him that despite everything, he was still capable of feeling beyond the grief. He kept reading from the pile of papers. Every few pages revealed another iteration. Mach. 1, Mach. 2, Mach. 3. Some were little more than rough concepts. Others had pages dedicated to them of testing data. He eventually crossed a hand-drawn diagram of a wrist-mounted launcher. Several of them. Each version growing progressively more refined. More compact and concealable. More realistic… and dangerous.

The boy became a one man research facility in six short days. That greatly worried Otto. He tried to reach him again. “When did you sleep?”

Satoru’s expression hardened immediately. “No.”

“When?”

“That’s not what’s important right now.”

“It’s important to me, I need to know where your head’s at.”

The young man rubbed his eyes. He didn’t look tired. He looked exhausted. A man pushed far past his breaking point. Yet, somehow he still stood. It was equal parts amazing as it was horrifying. “I don’t know,” his voice was as hollow as Otto had ever heard it. Something fundamental having been scooped right out of his core. His voice was quiet and threadbare. Otto was lost thinking of a response. Silence found the room again. Only the machines and the fluorescent lights hummed around them.

Otto was once again faced with the purple bruises beneath Satoru’s eyes. His stained, borrowed clothing. And his hands that were no longer steady. All that unprocessed grief pushed at the boy’s edges, blurring him from sight. He wouldn’t be able to manage in this state for much longer. He needed to stop. Long enough to refuel and sleep. Otto knew better than to suggest it. Satoru would have to come to that conclusion on his own. The man only hoped the younger boy would realize before it was too late. He’d poured every ounce of fear and helplessness into his work. Converted it into equations. Into prototypes. Into busywork.

He looked back down to the scattered pages. Something caught his attention on a corner of one further away from him. Something had been written, then scratched out so aggressively the paper had nearly torn. Find Suguru. Crossed out. Below it: Bring Suguru home. Scratched out. And beneath that written in smaller lettering: Bring it back. Otto stared at the lost words for a long moment. When he finally looked up, Satoru was staring at the opposite wall. Looking anywhere but at Otto. Anywhere but at his notes. His eyelashes still fluttered behind the glasses. Blinking away all of the horrors.

“Your webbing,” Otto said, thinking of an idea.

Still facing the far wall, Satoru asked, “What about it?”

“Show me.”

“You’ve already seen the samples.”

“And now I want to see it in application.”

Satoru turned toward him, his arms coming up to cross over his chest, and his lips pursed. For a moment, Otto thought he’d refuse. But beneath the irritated facade was a spark of genuine interest. In an instant the boy had crossed the room. Much faster than should be possible. He grabbed a pair of safety goggles from a nearby bench and tossed them toward Otto. “Safety first.”

Otto caught them easily. “You’re not gonna explode, are you?”

“No promises.”

“Should I be standing behind ballistic glass, too?”

Gojo rolled his eyes. “Just put them on.”

With a sigh, Otto did. The younger man stepped into the center of the workshop. He was eyeing a distant pillar that stood about 8 meters away from him. Tongue stuck out in concentration, Satoru flexed his wrist. For a moment, Otto didn’t think anything happened. But Satoru looked far too pleased for that to be true. It took a moment, but Otto finally caught sight of it. A thin silvery-white mist hung in the air and between Satoru and the pillar there was a pearlescent strand connecting them. Otto’s eyes widened. Well. That was new, indeed. It was one thing viewing the specimen in the containers, seeing the webs all over the loft, it was another thing entirely to watch the web be produced in real time.

The strand stretching the distance shimmered under the bright lighting. Mesmerizing and beautiful. And completely impractical. Satoru already knew it. “It’s too inconsistent,” Satoru started to explain. “Humidity levels affect dispersion. The range drops after 12 meters. I can’t reliably control the density. Again, swinging would be impossible. I’d plummet to my death.” Most people in his situation would sound discouraged. Satoru only sounded annoyed. Like reality had intentionally failed his expectations.

Otto walked over to the strand. Carefully, he pressed a finger against it. Interesting. Very interesting. His mind automatically began running through possibilities. Synthetic reinforcement. Polymer stabilization. Pressure-assisted deployment. A grin slowly spread across his face. “Oh.”

Satoru narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Genuine excitement filled him. He felt like a kid in a candy store. “We can work with this. No need to start from scratch.”

“You really think we can?” Satoru’s tone sounded skeptical, but his face betrayed him. He was excited, too. Because there, brighter than the sun, was a smile on his face. Otto nodded and took a moment to appreciate it. Somehow, that small smile felt like the greatest breakthrough of the night.

Otto released the strand and started pacing. His mind finally latching onto a problem it can solve. “It’s clear that the adhesive properties work really well.”

Satoru blinked. “Do they?”

“Yes.” Otto pointed to the web. “This is remarkable.”

Looking down at where the web remained attached to his wrist, Satoru scrunched his nose. “It can’t even support my body weight consistently.”

“You’re treating the wrong problem. Making it a far bigger issue than it actually is.”

The younger man stared, trying to see past his own shortcomings. To view the problem from a different angle. Otto felt himself becoming more animated. The excitement had crept up on him out of nowhere. He was no longer looking at grief or the aftermath of tragedy. He was looking at a puzzle. A fascinating one. “You’re trying to reinvent the web. You don’t need to. You just need to reinforce what you already have.”

“But I won’t work. It’s too inconsistent. It’s not strong enough to do what I need it to do.”

“No,” Otto corrected. “It’s just organic. And needs a little support.” Satoru frowned as Otto approached the web again. He strummed it like a guitar string. The material flexed. It was strong in its own right. Elastic and easy to maneuver if given the proper tools. “Your spider has already solved half the problem for us.”

Satoru shook his head. “I don’t-“

“You’re too focused on what it can’t do, that you’re missing what it can.” Otto paced again. “It’s not production or consistency, it’s deployment.”

Satoru tilted his head, as if considering. The room fell silent as comprehension washed over him. “Oh.”

And there it was. Take away the grief and the relentless nights of caffeine driven work, and what was left was just a brilliant mind at work.

Satoru crossed the room to the pile of papers he had. Practically snatched a pile off the table and began thumbing through them. “Pressure assisted deployment.”

“Exactly.”

“We need an artificial compression chamber. That’ll increase velocity and improve trajectory.”

“Now you’re thinking.”

His pen was already moving. Equations appeared across the page faster than Otto could read them. “It’ll help with range and consistency.”

“Significantly, I believe.”

“It would give me better directional control.”

“Very likely.”

Satoru stopped writing. He chewed on the pen cap. Then looked in Otto’s direction. “We can combine it with a synthetic reinforcement agent. Just to give it that extra oomph.”

Otto laughed. He was delighted with how fast the kid caught on.

“What?” Satoru demanded. 

“Nothing,” Otto insisted, waving him off. 

Gojo narrowed his eyes. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“The one that means you're judging me.”

“I’m certainly not judging you.”

“You absolutely are.”

Otto laughed. “Not in the way you think. I’m admiring your intensity. You remind me of another scientist back in their prime.”

Satoru rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. Yourself?”

“No, not me.”

“Then who?”

Otto hesitated. But then he answered. “Kenjaku.” Suguru’s father. My mentor. 

“Oh.” The younger man looked back down at his notes. “I’m nothing like him.”

He gave Gojo a sad smile. “He wasn’t always like that. He’d been so brilliant and innovative. It’s sad to see what happened.”

“Well he can go fuck himself. I’d never hurt innocent people. Especially not Suguru. He’s his son. And he treated him like a lab specimen.”

“She was his wife…” Otto paused. Weighing the merits of his next words. “Grief and obsession lead people down paths that make them unrecognizable.”

Satoru’s jaw tightened. “That’s not going to happen to me. I’m only going to hurt those who deserve it.”

“And where does that line fall, Gojo?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment. Just put down his stack of papers and ran his hands wildly through his hair. The parts that had been pulled back came loose and Gojo let out a frustrated sound. “I don’t know. But that’s not the equation I’m trying to figure out right now. Are you going to help me or not?”

Otto sighed, but he made his way over to the worktable. He hoped that Gojo was right. That he wouldn’t lose himself by the end of this.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

Tuesday October 20th

Together they moved in sync. His extra arms lending a hand where needed. Neither of them spoke of the missing boy. Yet somehow Sugru remained present anyway. In every equation and prototype. In every impossible idea Satoru muttered. Because neither needed to say it aloud. They both understood exactly what they were working towards. What they were truly building. Not a webshooter. Not a suit. A way to reach someone who was disappearing.

Three hours later the laboratory looked even worse. Which somehow meant progress. Failed formulas littered every available surface. Several beakers had exploded. One nearly caught fire. Twice. Satoru insisted that it was unrelated. Otto disagreed. Vehemently. The prototype gauntlet now rested on the workbench connected to compact pressure chambers. Crude and ugly, but functional. Their favorite kind of thing. Otto adjusted his glasses. “Again.”

Satoru rolled his eyes. He was sleep deprived. Possibly concussed. Still dramatic. He triggered the mechanism. A sharp thwip echoed through the lab. A concentrated strand of artificial web shot across the room. Anchoring perfectly to the far wall. Both men froze. Too absorbed in their observations. Five seconds passed. 10. 20. 30. Satoru slowly nodded as he crossed the distance. Tugged experimentally on the strand. Resistance, no breakage. The web remained intact. A dangerous smile spread across his face. An alarm blared in the back of Otto’s mind. “That look concerns me.” 

“It should.” Gojo’s smile widened.

Upstairs, the TV erupted into static. Both men looked up, then they looked at each other. The news. They’d left it running. In case there was an update or special alert. Neither of them spoke as the anchor’s voice filtered faintly through the floorboards. “...additional casualties reported…” The audio was muffled; they were only able to hear fragments. “...unidentified teenager…”

“...security footage recovered…”

“...public urged to remain indoors…”

“...massive black figure roaming around…”

Satoru’s expression immediately changed. The smile fell from his face. Otto watched it in slow motion. Hope, fear, and obsession all returning at once. Without a word Satoru was already moving. He bounded up the stairs two at a time. Otto couldn’t keep up. By the time he made it back to the main floor Gojo was already standing in front of the TV. His hands gripping either side of it, eyes focused on the broadcast. It played blurry footage. It was nighttime. Poor visibility because it was raining. Several figures were running. Screams could be heard.

Lighting fast, a shape crossed the frame. Blurry, but two key details could be ascertained. The blob was humongous. And black as ink. Violent in its momentum. Gone almost as soon as it enters the frame. The anchor continued speaking. Speculating on the circumstances. Guessing at nothing. Just filling the silent air. Otto barely listened. Because beside him Gojo had gone completely still. He didn’t seem shocked or surprised by the news. Recognition flicked over his features. The realization made Otto’s stomach sink.

Gojo snatched the remote up from where it lay hidden under debris. He stood impossibly close to the screen as he rewound the footage. Played it again. Repeated the process. Again. Again. Until the image froze. One frame. One impossible frame. A black tendril. A human hand. And something else obscured by the ink black shadows. The boy’s breathing caught. But his lips stretched into a smile. It wasn’t from joy. It had a distant delirious edge to it. He’d found a direction. A path forward. A target to pursue. Otto watched the transformation from grief to purpose. Watched Spider-Man begin to emerge from the wreckage.

“Satoru.”

The younger man didn’t look away from the screen. “I know where to start.” And that declaration was somehow more frightening than anything Otto had gleaned from the footage.

“You can’t go out there. The suit isn’t even finished.” Otto immediately argued.

“It’ll be enough. Plus we need more data on the wrist mount. You can only do so much in a lab.”

“What you need is some sleep. You’ll drop dead before you even make it there.”

Satoru was already making his way down the stairs. “I’ve lasted this long. Another few hours won’t kill me.”

“Exaughstion leads to miscalculations. You could hurt yourself. Or someone else.”

His hands were already reaching for the wrist mount. He wasn’t hearing any of the objections Otto had. “It will be fine. I’ll come straight back and sleep.”

“It might not even be him.” Otto hoped without reason, he’d still find a way to get through to the boy.

“But it is Ryomen Tech. Which means I’ll gather useful information regardless."

The suit wasn’t much of a suit as it was a track suit. Gojo had mentioned wearing something similar the night he’d met Star at the fight club. This one though was all black. Reinforced fiber panels had been sewn over the areas protecting his vital organs. Aside from the wrist mount, the kid would be going in with little more than stubbornness and blind determination.. Still, he pulled on the pants and the matching top. With surprising care, he followed up the stained crewneck and placed it to the side. 

Otto watched as Gojo’s hand lingered. Thumb brushing over the sleeve. A small, unconscious gesture. Like he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go. The expression that crossed Gojo’s face lasted less than a heartbeat. But Otto saw it. Saw the fear. Saw the hope. Saw the desperate certainty that if he moved fast enough, searched hard enough, maybe he could still undo all of this. Maybe he was right and Suguru was waiting for him somewhere. The look vanished as quickly as it appeared. His mask slid back into place.

“I’m worried,” Otto admitted.

Gojo flashed a cocky grin before pulling on a sockcap and placing his glasses over his eyes. “Nothing to worry ‘bout, old man. I’ll be back to annoy you before you even realize I’m gone.”

Otto stared at him. The boy was running on fumes, past the point of exhaustion by now. Broken and terrified. And somehow still completely convinced he could pull this off. “You sound exactly like your mother.”

Gojo’s lips quipped. “Yeah? Well one thing I remember about her is that she was always right.”

Otto’s eye twitched. “Unfortunately.”

The boy’s smile lingered for a moment. Then Spider-Man turned and disappeared into the night.

– ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ – ~~ –

The city felt different in the suit. Not safer, just sharper. Every siren seemed closer. Every rooftop is lower. Every distant conversation was clearer than it should have been. Like his spidey powers had been amplified tenfold. Satoru crouched atop the edge of a parking garage overlooking a six-lane intersection. Wind tugged at the unfinished suit. The fabric was rough in places where he and Otto had rushed the stitching. One sleeve clung slightly tighter than the other. The gauntlets still dug into his wrists whenever he flexed his hands.

It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t even comfortable. But it worked. For now, that was enough. Below him, emergency vehicles clogged the street. Red and blue painted the surrounding buildings in fractured color. Police tape stretched around the entrance to what had once been an office complex. Reporters crowded the perimeter. Three people dead. Seven injured. According to the news broadcast, witnesses reported seeing: A BLACK SHAPE. A TEENAGE BOY. SOMETHING IMPOSSIBLE. But everyone had a different story. That was bound to happen. Chaos messed with people’s minds. Trauma made them remember things differently. Satoru knew that to be true. Had experienced it first hand.

Spider-Man dropped from the roof. The web shooter launched automatically. A silver strand snapped outward and anchored itself to a neighboring structure. His stomach lurched. For one horrible second he was absolutely certain the web would fail. But miraculously it held. The city blurred beneath him. Wind roared past his ears. And suddenly, he was flying. A startled laugh escaped him. The sound vanished immediately, swallowed up by the dark of the night. And the pain. It was too soon for joy. He was too raw. It simply hurt too much without his other half. Suguru should’ve been here to witness this. Suguru would’ve laughed at him for screaming the first time. Would’ve demanded a turn. Would’ve immediately attempted something reckless and then turned around to lecture Satoru not to copy him.

The thought hit him like a ton of bricks. He lost his focus. Nearly missed his landing. He stumbled onto a nearby rooftop. Recovered. Brushed it off like it was nothing. Safely tucked the thought away Suguru deep inside his heart and kept moving. Because stopping meant thinking. And thinking meant remembering too much.

The attack site sat at the edge of the business district. Most of the crowd had already been pushed back. The police presence was significant. But not enough. Satoru recognized the signs immediately. This was different from a typical crime scene. Men in dark uniforms moved among the officers. They wore no identifying markers. But Satoru knew whose men they were. Ryomen Tech. Goons sent by Star. He was certain of it. The sight made his stomach twist.

Carefully, Satoru slipped down the side of the building. His powers made the maneuver almost embarrassingly easy. Three weeks ago he’d have ended up in a full body cast. Now he landed silently and without injury. Easy and hidden beneath an overhang. The rear entrance of a nearby business had collapsed inward. Concrete dust coated in the surrounding area. Several sections of the brick wall looked as though they’d broken torn apart by something stronger than a bulldozer. Stronger than explosives, even. A monster. Ink black tendrils. For a moment, Satoru was back in the loft. Suguru’s fingers grazing his collarbone. Human hands. Then he was being thrown across the room, hitting the wall with enough force to leave a him-sized hole.

Satoru shook his head, his eyes squeezing tight against the flashback. This wasn’t undeniable proof. He couldn’t be certain this was Suguru’s doing. But being aware of that didn’t stop the dread from building in the pit of his stomach. He ran his hand over one of the destroyed walls. The parts that were still standing were scorned with deep lash marks. Not impact craters. Not blast damage. The concrete had been repeatedly carved apart.  He crouched lower. The police hadn’t noticed. Most people probably wouldn’t. 

The marks weren’t uniform. They verified in depth and width. Some were only superficial scratches. Others cut several inches into the reinforced concrete beneath the decorative brickwork. Testing it? Or losing control? Neither possibility sat well with him. Satoru glanced toward the nearest officer and took a deep breath. “Now or never,” he whispered. His skin tingled when the change took effect. Once glance down at himself and it was confirmed. He’d disappeared. Turned invisible again, this time on command. It still made him queasy and disoriented. The sensation was strange, like stepping half a pace out of reality. Satoru swallowed it down, Spitters are quitters afterall, and climbed over the debris.

Around him, investigators moved through the scene carrying evidence bags and portable floodlights. Ryomen Tech personnel stalked among them, pretending to be consultants while quietly taking control of the investigation. Satru slipped past the perimeter unnoticed. Window glass littered the floor of the lobby. Satoru had to tread carefully. Being invisible didn’t cancel out any noise he may make. As he scanned the room he saw desks that had been overturned. A reception counter had been split in half. Whatever happened here had begun near the front entrance before moving deeper into the building.

He followed the trail of destruction. The smell hit him immediately. Smoke, blood, and disinfectant.  Blood appeared in splatters every few intervals. First in small amounts, but as he continued it increased. A smear along the wall. A handprint. Another. Then suddenly it stopped. Satoru looked around. It didn’t make sense. Then something cold and sticky dropped on his exposed skin. He had to hold a shriek. Keep a cool head, Gojo. He looked up. The trail continued several feet higher than should be possible. As if the victim had been dragged. His stomach tightened at the sight.

Taking a deep breath, he continued forward. The second floor was worse. So much worse. Entire sections of the hallways were completely demolished. One wall had been ripped outward, exposing office spaces to the night air. Computer monitors hung from severed cables. Filing cabinets had been overturned like children's building blocks. Satoru paused near a shattered conference room. Something was wrong. More wrong than the rest of it all. His enhanced senses pricked. He scanned the room slowly. Then stopped cold.

A black fragment no larger than his thumbnail. Wedged into a crack in the floor. Carefully, he knelt and picked it up. The material flexed in reaction. Organic. His pulse accelerated. The texture was horribly familiar. Not from a lab or a textbook. But because he’d touched it. He’d worn it. Watched it spread across Suguru’s skin. The suit. Satoru closed his hand around the fragment immediately. No. This still didn’t prove anything. This could’ve found its way here a hundred different ways. Ryomen Tech could have another suit made of the same material. Their cronies were scattered everywhere. One of them could have planted it here. There were dozens of explanations. Yet his chest still felt too tight.

A distant conversation drifted through the building.

“...third witness said it was protecting someone…”

“...that’s not what the other statement says…”

“...body cam footage is completely corrupted, who knows…”

“...impossible angle of attack…”

Satoru’s thoughts froze. Protecting someone. Slowly, he turned toward the voices. Two detectives stood near the collapsed stairwell below. One flipped through a notebook. The other looked exhausted. “Protecting who?” The first asked.

“Kid wouldn’t give us a name.”

A pause as the first scanned her notes. “He said the thing killed three people. Then stopped another guy from shooting him.” Silence overtook the space. Both officers shifted uncomfortably.

The second detective laughed nervously. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No,” the other agreed. “It doesn’t.

Satoru stared into the darkness. His grip tightened on the ink black fabric. This wasn’t a monster attack. It was a meltdown of someone losing their humanity. That possibly terrified him in ways he didn’t know were possible.