Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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It had been a month. 

Hadn’t it? 

Suguru was not sure anymore. Lately, time had become more and more distorted. One minute he was eating breakfast, then suddenly it was time for dinner. One morning, it was Monday, but then in the blink of an eye, it was Saturday again. Every day went by too fast, too blurry. His days were nothing but some sort of grey clouds, whirling together and forming a giant blackhole.

For so long now, Suguru had been functioning like a robot. He woke up, went to class, ate as much as he could, did his missions, and most importantly, put on a happy smile on his face; Otherwise, questions would come up, and Suguru was in no mood to answer any. Every day felt like torture. Suguru tried to hide his anger, his grief, his fear. He had to be normal for the sake of everyone else in the school. All of them had suffered enough already, and Suguru didn’t want to be the new burden they had to be concerned about.

Suguru wanted to be strong; he wanted to forget. He tried everything to distract his mind from the horrible scenes that haunted him day and night. Suguru was tired and desperate. And unfortunately, Suguru wasn’t deaf. He could hear the gunshot sound while he was in class; he could hear the excruciating clapping as he stood under the shower; and that daunting laugh. Ohh, Suguru could hear it, echoing in his head throughout the night, eating away every bit of his sanity as he stared at the wooden ceiling in his room. 

Suguru was not an idiot; he knew his mind was spiraling. His brain kept whispering stuff to him every night, keeping him awake with all the terrible things. And the worst part was, Suguru was starting to listen.

Fushiguro Toji’s voice was loud and clear, and as Suguru closed his eyes, the picture became lucid. Piercing green eyes bored into his violet ones. A pool of warm blood gathered at his feet, and in the middle of it, the body of a once charming girl, a girl whom Suguru promised a second chance. dead. 

Suguru supposed, at the end of the day, there was no one to blame but himself. He was weak, acting so arrogantly that he thought he was as strong as Satoru. He was too focused on his illusion alone that he failed to fulfill his duty.

Now, this was his karma. To be stuck in a limbo as it sucked his soul into an endless dark abyss, where eventually, if fate had decided to spare him, Suguru would die a gruesome death. Of course, that was asking too much. Even Suguru knew he couldn’t afford death. He had been greedy, and so, Suguru would accept anything the universe decided to punish him with. Even if it meant he would lose himself at the end. 

>>><<<

“Suguru, are you there?”

A voice came from the door, asking the same question from yesterday. Suguru needed to answer. He didn’t want to, but he needed to. Otherwise, people would be worried about him, and Suguru didn’t want to be a burden to anyone, especially him.

Still, it was so hard to function these days, even as simple as speaking. He was constantly deprived of energy, tired from the endless number of missions the higher-ups forced down his throat. He was so tired he wanted to sleep forever. 

“Suguru, are you in there?” Another banging came from the door.

Ugh, now Suguru definitely needed to answer. “Yes, Satoru.” He said in a rather too pathetic a tone, and Satoru must have noticed it.

There was silence at the door, though Suguru knew the white-haired teen was still standing at the door. He sighed into his pillow. Suguru didn’t have the energy to move, but if he didn’t, Satoru would end up barging in anyway, pestering him all night with dumb stuff. He drew every last bit of energy he had and forced himself to walk to the door and open it. Surely, he found the white-haired teen standing there.

“What do you want, Satoru?”

Satoru grinned and used five seconds to inspect Suguru’s state. They both knew Suguru looked like a hobo right now, but even so, Satoru said nothing about it.

“Wanna get dinner together?” Instead, he asked.

Oh, it’s dinner already? Suguru turned his head around and glanced at the window. Sure enough, the sky was dark. And oh, his room was also dark.

“Let’s go get soba, yeah? My treat!”

Suguru was a bit surprised by the gesture and turned to give Satoru a confused look. Usually–and by usually, meaning all the time— Satoru would get Suguru to pay for their meal. Atrocious, in Suguru’s opinion, considering Satoru was literally ‘Gojo’s clan shining heir’, though, at the end of the day, Suguru would indulge in his whims. However, Suguru could see right through his scheme; this was not going to be a simple dinner. Satoru wanted to talk. 

“Satoru, I’m not really in the mood for soba right now.”

Suguru didn’t like lying to Satoru, but then again, he was not exactly doing that. Suguru was, indeed, not in the mood for soba. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t in the mood for anything, especially talking. 

“If you don’t want soba, we can get something else! What do you want? I can get you anything!”

Suguru clicked his tongue. “I’m not hungry right now. You should go get dinner with someone else.”

Just when Suguru was about to close the door, Satoru pushed it back with his hand. “Wait!”

The action startled both of them, but Satoru quickly recovered his composure while he kept his palm on the door.“Suguru, please…Talk to me. I don’t know what to do here–I…Can we please just get dinner together?”

Even behind those black sunglasses, Satoru’s eyes pierced through the screen. Suguru clenched his hands and looked away, trying to distract his mind from Satoru’s gaze. He was so tired. Why couldn’t Satoru just leave him alone? “Satoru, can we not do this right now? I’m tired, can you please just let me sleep?” 

Satoru looked utterly defeated, and slowly, he removed his palm and let Suguru shut the door on him. Suguru was still standing by the closed door, frozen by his own poison of words. He wanted to get back to bed, but his feet refused to move, as if telling him that his mouth had made the wrong choice, that he should go open the door and accept Satoru’s dinner invitation. Suguru knew Satoru was also still there. He could feel Satoru’s presence loud and clear behind the door.

However, as the time kept ticking, Satoru didn’t knock, and Suguru never opened the door.

>>><<<

Suguru gazed at the black orb in his hand, round and sparkly, beautiful and heinous at the same time. He sighed and slumped back onto the bench. The weather was sunny today, and unfortunately, their dorms didn’t provide any air conditioning. He glanced back at the orb in his hand. He had to do it; Suguru didn’t have any other choice. Suguru opened his mouth and swallowed, and suddenly, an abominable horrid spread through his tongue. It was bitter and disgusting. He blocked his mouth shut with his palm, trying to force himself to swallow the globe of a curse. Once he felt the curse settle in his belly, Suguru reached for a candy from his pocket. He was not a fan of sweets, but Suguru would eat anything to get rid of the aftertaste on his tongue.

It had become harder to ingest curses these days. Sure, it was always unpleasant; however, Suguru found it became more and more repulsive. The idea of ingesting this ball in order to save those people, the non-sorcerers, the monkeys.

Suguru hated it. Suguru hated them. Those pathetic monkeys. Here he was, sacrificing his life, day and night, exorcising these monsters, while those weak apes existed mindlessly without a care? How absurd! 

“Suguru! What are you doing out here?”

Oh, Satoru is back! The white haired teen jogged towards him and took a seat beside Suguru. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Suguru felt warm inside as Satoru smiled at him. In truth, he missed his friend terribly. They were always together, whether it was for missions, classes, eating, showers, etc. Now, Satoru was different. 

Opps–How ridiculous.

It was Suguru who was different now. There was a time when they were the strongest; the strongest duo. How naive for Suguru to think like that.

“Suguru? Are you okay?” Satoru’s voice jolted him back to the present.

 “It’s hot inside,” Suguru quickly said, “I’m just looking for fresh air…Are you finished with your mission?”

Satoru was quiet for a minute, as if analyzing Suguru’s lame excuse for his dissociation, “Yeah…Anyway, are you busy right now?”

Suguru contemplated his answer for a while. If he said ‘no’, Satoru would definitely drag him to do something he didn’t want to do. If he said ‘yes’...Well, Suguru would, yet again, disappoint his friend.

Then again, this game of chicken had become spoiled. Suguru knew his tendency to run away would do him no good for his relationship with Satoru. So, perhaps it was time to connect with Satoru again. Because, care to admit, Suguru did miss him terribly.

“I’m not busy,” Suguru decided, finally.

Satoru instantly shot up and grabbed Suguru’s hand, “Alright then. Let’s go!”

Suguru balanced himself as Satoru practically dragged him, “Let’s go where?”

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.

.

.

This was definitely not what Suguru had in mind when Satoru said they were going out for snacks. He’d expected something casual, maybe that crepe stand Satoru loved, or the little waffle shop near the station. But this? This was another level entirely.

The moment he stepped inside, Suguru realized this was the most luxurious place he had ever set foot in, a genuine five-star restaurant.

While Satoru confidently handled the ordering, Suguru couldn’t stop himself from taking everything in. The place looked like a massive glass greenhouse, flooded with soft light and overflowing with blooms in every color. Crystal chandeliers shimmered overhead like frozen rain, and a small marble fountain gurgled gently in the center, koi fish drifting lazily beneath the rippling surface. In the corner, a pianist in white played a slow, elegant melody, accompanied by two violinists whose bows moved like silk through the air. The music alone could’ve made him forget why they were there.

Then came the food. Suguru let out a small gasp when the waiter arrived, carrying a three-tiered stand that looked like something out of a dream. Every layer was perfect. The bottom tier was stacked neatly with smoked salmon and cucumber sandwiches, and the middle tier was lined with warm scones beside jars of strawberry jam, lemon curd, and thick clotted cream. And the top was a collection of colorful sweets: glossy macarons, tiny fruit tarts, slices of cheesecake, and a delicate Mont Blanc that looked almost too pretty to touch.

“How do you like it, Suguru?”

Satoru asked as he poured Suguru his tea. Suguru didn’t even realize that the waiter had brought them their tea set with the most beautiful ceramic patterns and silverware. The tea smelled nice, calming, and soft; even just the aroma had Suguru relaxed and sleepy. Satoru offered him his cup, and Suguru slowly brought it to his mouth, sipping the liquid carefully as the elegant taste spread through his mouth and warmed his throat.

Just like that, Suguru closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. How long has it been since he sat down and had a nice cup of tea?

“It’s honey lavender blend. They say it’s good to relieve stress.” Satoru said as he sipped his tea. “Do you like it?”

Suguru’s eyes finally landed on the white haired teen. Satoru seemed nervous, and by then, Suguru understood that Satoru did this for him. This tea party was for him! And finally, for the first time in a whole month, Suguru genuinely smiled. 

“I love it, Satoru. Thank you.” Suguru could tell he was blushing right now, though he would blame it on the tea. But still, he couldn’t help it. Satoru’s gesture truly moved Suguru’s stubborn heart.

Nevertheless, their afternoon was wonderful. They finally had a conversation where Suguru didn’t deflect, and Satoru didn’t tiptoe around. Satoru talked about movies, their school assignments, and the new Digimon game. Suguru didn’t feel like talking much, but it was still nice listening to Satoru’s rambling about normal stuff. 

“I miss you, Suguru,” Satoru finally whispered.

Suguru could see it in his eyes, his dazzling blue eyes; Satoru was being honest. There was longing in his eyes and hope in his words. And when Satoru’s hand moved forward to squeeze Suguru’s own, there was only desperation in his touch. 

Suguru slightly bit his lip and squeezed Satoru’s hand back, “I miss you too.” 

It was small, but both of them could hear it. Satoru smiled and brought Suguru’s hand to his mouth. The soft flesh of his lips lightly pressed against the bony knuckle, kissing it softly, lovingly. Suguru felt self-conscious and squirmed in his seat. Satoru was never this charming. And seeing Satoru acting so romantic to him made Suguru feel, somehow, conflicted.

“Hey, Suguru. What do you say we go to Okinawa this weekend?” Satoru said after a while.

Suguru stoned instantly. “Huh?” His mellow expression gradually faded. “What do you mean, Satoru?”

“Well, I have an overnight mission there, and I thought we could go together!” Satoru continued.

Suguru blinked at him. “I don’t understand. Did Yaga tell you to take me with you?”

“Well, no–”

“Then the higher-ups?”

“No, Suguru. What I’m saying is…Let’s go to Okinawa together. It will be fun!”

Suguru’s mouth slightly dropped. “Satoru, you’re going on a mission, not a vacation. Not to mention the higher-ups wouldn’t be pleased if they found out we were fooling around instead of doing missions! I can’t go with you.”

“You don’t have to worry about that! I’ll find some excuses so you can go with me. It’ll be okay, just trust me.”

Suguru was still wary. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Satoru.”

Satoru grew more agitated, reaching for Suguru’s hand and squeezing it tight. “Suguru, please. It’ll be only for the weekends.” Satoru’s hand tightened around Suguru’s again, more insistently this time. “Come on, Suguru,” he pleaded. “It’s just for the weekends. You won’t have to do anything! Just be there with me. Please.”

Suguru shook his head, eyes lowered. “Satoru…” His voice was quiet, almost tired. “You know I can’t. I have missions–”

“You can!” Satoru shot back, his tone sharper now. “You just don’t want to.”

Suguru exhaled slowly, trying to stay calm. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like?” Satoru pressed, his words quick and heavy. “Because every time I ask you to come with me, you always find a reason not to. The cafe last week? You said you were busy. The trip to Kyoto? You backed out the night before.” He laughed weakly, though there was no humor in it. “And now this. It’s just a weekend, Suguru. Just one.”

Suguru’s jaw tightened. 

Satoru blinked; his hand loosened slightly. “I’m not asking for forever,” he said, softer now. “Just a little time.” Satoru’s expression faltered, the fight draining from his voice. “You always pull away,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Even when I’m right here.”

Suguru still didn’t answer, because if he did, he wasn’t sure what might come out.

“Why were you running away from me?” Satoru muttered.

Suguru watched the boy in front of him closely. Satoru looked desperate, on edge, and Suguru worried that one wrong word might make him burst. To be honest, Suguru, too, was struggling to keep his own emotions in check. His palms were getting damp, and he bit the corner of his lip so hard it started to sting. So, he did what he always did to deflect Satoru’s raging confrontation.

He gave a small, uneasy smile. “I’m not running away from you, Satoru,” he said softly, the words almost trembling on his tongue. Satoru’s eyes didn’t waver, and that only made Suguru’s chest tighten. “And I’m not trying to make it seem like I am,” he murmured, voice thin with the effort of staying calm.

Satoru exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “Then what are you doing, Suguru?” His tone wasn’t harsh, just tired and strained. “Every time I try to talk to you, you act like it’s nothing. Like I’m the only one who feels anything here.”

Suguru looked away, lips parted, but no sound came out. He wanted to answer, but the lump in his throat made it impossible.

“I’m not mad,” Satoru said quietly, shaking his head. “I just... don’t get it. You say you’re not running, but you keep putting distance between us. What am I supposed to think?”

Suguru’s fingers curled against his palms, trying to stop them from trembling. “It’s not like that,” he whispered. “I just…I don’t know how to make it right.”

Satoru’s expression softened, “Then at least stop pretending you’re fine,” he said. “I’d rather hear the truth than that smile you keep forcing all this time.”

The silence that followed felt fragile, like even breathing too loudly might break it. Suguru didn’t speak. He sat there, hands limp at his lap, eyes fixed somewhere past Satoru’s shoulder. The silence stretched long enough to make the air between them feel heavy, almost suffocating.

Satoru waited. For a second, it looked like he might say something else. Another question? Maybe something softer? But then Satoru’s phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the stillness like a crack through glass.

He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting. “...I have to take this,” he muttered, almost apologetic.

Suguru only nodded. He didn’t trust his voice not to waver. He only watched as Satoru turned slightly away to take the call. His voice was low, curt, a tone Suguru knew too well. Whatever it was, it wasn’t something he could ignore.

When Satoru finally hung up, the air between them felt thinner somehow. He glanced back at Suguru, guilt flickering in his eyes.

“I have to go,” he said quietly.

Suguru nodded once. “I figured.”

Satoru hesitated, just for a second, like he wanted to stay, like there was something he still wanted to say. But duty pulled stronger. He gave a small nod in return, almost reluctant, before stepping past him.

Suguru didn’t turn to watch him leave. He just froze there, staring at the space Satoru had occupied, feeling the weight of everything left unsaid settle deep in his chest.

>>><<<

It had been a week since they had their little ‘date’. A week since the argument that neither of them had truly finished. And since then. It was the first time they had gone this long without talking to each other, at all. 

Suguru had replayed it in his head more times than he cared to admit. The look in Satoru’s eyes before that phone call, the way his voice softened just before he left. Every version of the memory ended the same, with Suguru sitting there, saying nothing when he should have.

Now, standing outside Satoru’s door, he felt that same tightness in his chest return. The hallway was quiet, the kind of quiet that made every sound feel louder than it should be. Suguru could hear his heartbeat, the faint rustle of his sleeve as he clenched and unclenched his hand. He hesitated before knocking. Part of him hoped Satoru wasn’t there. The other part, the bigger one, hoped he was. After a moment, the door opened.

Satoru looked tired. Not the kind of tired that sleep could fix, but the kind that came from carrying too much. His hair was messier than usual, and his glasses hung slightly crooked on his nose.

“Suguru,” he said, blinking as if he wasn’t sure whether to be surprised or relieved.

“Hey,” Suguru said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. He tried to smile, but it faltered halfway. 

They both were silent after that. The air shifted in a peculiar way, and Suguru didn’t know how to act. Usually, it was Satoru who initiated conversation between them, but now, Satoru seemed rather awkward. He fidgeted so much and put on this fake eire smile.

“I didn’t think you’d come by,” Satoru said. His tone was light, but his fingers drummed restlessly against the doorknob.

“I should’ve come sooner,” Suguru admitted. Satoru hummed, nodding, though his eyes flicked toward the crack of the door again. “Are you busy?” Suguru asked quietly. “You seem… distracted.”

Satoru’s breath hitched, just slightly. “No, no. Just tired.”

However, there it was again. That fake, lame smile. Suguru studied the sorcerer before him. The faint tension in his shoulders, the way he leaned toward the door as if guarding it. 

“Is there something wrong, Satoru?” he asked, eyes narrowing to the white haired teen before him, analyzing Satoru’s expression. Suguru knew he was hiding something because Satoru looked absolutely guilty.

Before Satoru could come up with a lame excuse, a small voice emerged from behind. “Gojo-san, I’m hungry.”

Suguru was frozen, staring at the small figure standing behind Satoru’s legs. A boy. Probably four or five years old. A stranger, and yet, Suguru memorized that face anywhere. Those deep green eyes, sharp jaw, and even the scowl expression. 

Satoru was visibly panicked, trying to usher the kid back inside. “Not now, kid!” Satoru shifted, half-blocking the boy without making it obvious. “Didn’t I tell you to stay inside?” He said quickly, his voice careful. 

The little boy blinked up at Satoru, unimpressed. “You were taking too long.”

The casual reply made Suguru’s chest tighten. The kid’s tone, calm, blunt, and far too composed for his age, was another familiar echo he couldn’t ignore.

Suguru’s voice came out quieter than he meant. “Who… is this?”

Suguru’s gaze lingered on the boy, taking in every detail: the dark lashes, the shape of his nose, the faint scowl that seemed instinctive. It was all too much like him.

Like Toji.

The name flickered across Suguru’s mind, unspoken but loud. He felt a chill crawl up his spine. Fear, disbelief, anger; all tangled with something heavier he couldn’t name.

Satoru quickly shoved the kid back before closing the door. He hesitated for a while, glancing at the closed door behind him. When he finally looked at Suguru again, there was a flicker of guilt in his expression.“His name’s Fushiguro Megumi.” 

Suguru’s mind reeled. That name. That abominable name. Flashes of that day, of Toji’s half-smile, his quiet, reckless confidence, the way his story had ended far too abruptly. Suguru was killing himself trying to bury that memory. And now… here he was again. Haunting Suguru through that small boy’s face

Suguru’s breath faltered. “...Fushiguro?” He repeated the name slowly, as if saying it might summon that monster back from death. “You mean…”

Satoru nodded once. “He’s Toji’s son.”

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Chapter Text

>>><<<

Here it was, the moment Satoru had dreaded to come. The three of them were sitting together at the dining table in the common area. Satoru was fidgeting in his seat, and Megumi was sitting beside him, eating some store-bought meal Satoru had heated up for him. Across Satoru’s gaze, Suguru sat quietly. The air was thick between them. The only noise was coming from the clatter of the spoon from Megumi. Suguru’s stance remained constant. He carefully inspected the child while still giving Satoru a judgmental look.

Satoru was covered in cold sweats, stressing over this whole situation, while Megumi was mindlessly munching on his food, unaware, or rather, didn’t care about the brewing tension in the room. Suguru’s eyes kept falling into the boy, scanning his face while still trying to hide the anger on his face.

Ughh, Satoru was honestly not ready for this. In fact, he was starting to regret it, all of it. Taking the kid in, letting himself get involved, trying to do what was “right.”

Fushiguro Toji.

Even just thinking the name made Satoru’s jaw tighten. That bastard had caused enough trouble for ten lifetimes, and somehow, even in death, he still managed to screw with Satoru’s life. Perhaps he should’ve just been a jerk and ended it cleanly, no hesitation, no mercy. Satoru could’ve walked away that day without a single thought, left Toji to rot and his words to die with him.

But no. Satoru remembered. He remembered the look in Toji’s eyes, not regret, not love, just… resignation, maybe? Like the man knew what he would throw away but didn’t have the strength to care. Satoru could still feel the way the air went still after that. The way his chest tightened, the way his Six Eyes flickered involuntarily.

Satoru didn’t know why he went looking for the kid later. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was curiosity. Or maybe it was because deep down, even someone like Satoru Gojo couldn’t stomach the idea of another child being chained to such a godforsaken clan. Nevertheless, whatever the reason was, he found him. A small, quiet boy with sharp eyes and a stare that reminded him far too much of his father’s.

Turned out, the kid was left alone in a shabby apartment. He was dirty and hungry, almost looking like a stray kitten. There was no food in the house, and the electricity had been dead for quite some time. But even then, the kid didn’t cry or make any sound when a stranger came marching into his home. Megumi remained quiet and still. He didn’t give Satoru any other reaction except looking almost judgmental. His dim green eyes stared suspiciously at Satoru, but he was too unbothered to make a resistance. 

It was hell the first few weeks. Satoru had never predicted Megumi to be this small. Six years old, tiny, quiet, and absolutely impossible to deal with. Satoru had no clue what he was doing, no experience, and definitely no will to take care of a kid. Let alone this kid. The son of the man who had tried to kill him. He had gone to Yaga for help, of course. That seemed like the responsible thing to do. Yaga was an adult; he was supposed to be the reasonable one, the guy who could figure out this kind of stuff for him.

Instead, Yaga just handed him a stack of paperwork, signed something at the bottom, and said with the enthusiasm of a funeral bell,

“All done. Megumi will be under your care from now on.”

Satoru stood there in silence, papers in hand, questioning every decision that had led him to this moment. He swore, then and there, that it would be the last time he ever asked that old man for a favor. And just when he thought things couldn’t possibly get worse, It didn’t just get worse. It got way worse.

“I can explain…” Satoru began, though he didn’t even think about the words he should say after that.

“Well…I’m waiting.” Suguru’s tone was calm and collected, though his face spoke otherwise.

“Umm…” Satoru paused again, unsure of what to say. “His name’s Fushiguro Megumi.”

“Yes. You’ve told me that.” Suguru answered, tone rising slightly.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Satoru went quiet. He never predicted the situation to be like this. On one hand, he was somewhat happy that they could talk face-to-face again. It had been torture pretending he was fine without Suguru, pretending the empty space beside him didn’t ache every day. But on the other hand, this was the one situation he’d dreaded most. Satoru wasn’t ready for Suguru and Megumi to meet. Not yet.

Toji Fushiguro had been a monster, one that left scars deeper than Satoru liked to admit. The battle had nearly broken them both, but it was Suguru who carried the heaviest of those wounds, the kind that didn’t heal no matter how much time passed. The thought of reopening them, of seeing that pain flicker behind Suguru’s eyes again… Satoru couldn’t bear it.

He had planned to tell Suguru about the boy during their trip to Okinawa, somewhere quiet and peaceful, far away from everything, where it would feel easier to talk. But of course, that never happened. So, he had kept Megumi a secret.

But now, here they were with Suguru staring at the boy who looked far too much like the man who’d almost killed him, Satoru realized just how badly he had miscalculated.

“I can’t believe you’re not telling me this, Satoru.” Suguru finally said after Satoru left them hanging for some time. “You took in Toji’s child?” The words came out sharper than he intended, laced with disbelief and something dangerously close to hurt. 

That was not a question, and Suguru wasn’t looking for an answer. No. He was waiting for a denial, a correction, something to make it untrue. he was giving Satoru one last chance to say no, to tell him he was wrong.

But Satoru had nothing to give him.

“Yes,” he said quietly. Just one word: small, final, and heavy enough to fill the room.

Suguru’s expression twisted, his anger no longer restrained. It wasn’t a violent kind of fury, more the kind born from betrayal, from disbelief that hurt far worse than shouting ever could. Yet beneath it all, Satoru saw it: the shimmer of tears threatening to spill, the way Suguru’s lips trembled when he tried to speak but didn’t.

And God, it broke him.

Satoru felt his own eyes sting. He was exhausted, so painfully, utterly exhausted. His mind was fogged with the weight of everything he hadn’t said, every mistake he couldn’t undo. He had just come back from a brutal mission barely an hour ago, and he hadn’t even sat down before Megumi had tugged at his sleeve, asking for lunch.

Now, here he was, face to face with Suguru, the one person he wanted to protect from this truth most of all, and realizing he had failed again.

In three hours, Satoru was supposed to leave for another mission. But right now, all he could think of was how desperately he wished for a pause, a single moment to breathe before everything shattered completely.

No. Everything is different now.

Instead of the peace he once imagined, Satoru found himself trapped in this mess, watching Suguru get hurt all over again. And this time, it was because of him. Because he brought Megumi to him.

Tch. Maybe he should’ve just left the kid to die. Then, there would be nothing left of Toji Fushiguro; no face, no name, no reminders.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Suguru finally asked, his voice cutting through the heavy silence that lingered between them.

Satoru’s reply came too quickly. “Don’t worry about it. This isn’t your problem.”

Suguru’s brow furrowed. “What? Satoru, what do you mean it’s not my problem? You took in Toji’s child and didn’t even bother to tell me!”

“Why would I tell you shit when you won’t even talk to me?” Satoru snapped before he could stop himself. “Are you serious right now? You’re the one acting like a ghost and you’re mad at me for not telling you things? You shut me out, Suguru! I spent weeks trying to reach you, and you just…shut me out!”

Suguru flinched. The words hit harder than either of them expected.

Satoru realized he was yelling, his voice echoing in the quiet room. But the anger wouldn’t leave him, not when it was sitting right on top of his guilt, pressing down until he could barely breathe. He knew Suguru was hurting. He should’ve known better than to throw fuel on it. But he was hurting too, and like always, he didn’t know what else to do but lash out.

He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled shakily. “Look, Suguru…” he muttered, forcing his voice to steady. “We’ll talk about this later. I have a mission, I’ve gotta go.”

He stood and reached for Megumi’s small hand. “Come on, Megumi. I’ll get you home.” The boy, silent through the entire argument, just nodded and followed.

Satoru didn’t look back; he couldn’t. Because if he did, he might’ve stopped. But even as he walked away, he could feel it; the weight of Suguru’s gaze, the sound of quiet tears hitting the floor behind him.

>>><<<

Suguru walked aimlessly along the pavement, kicking at loose pebbles whenever his shoes brushed against them. The late afternoon air clung to his skin, heavy with the scent of rain and city dust. He had just wrapped up a mission earlier that day, nothing too serious, but enough to leave his body aching and his mind scattered. He hadn’t planned to go anywhere. He was half-asleep on his feet when the smell of something sweet pulled him back, the crepe shop at the corner. The same one Satoru used to drag him to.

It had been a week since their fight at that dining table. Two long, suffocating weeks, and not once had Satoru come knocking at his door. Suguru wasn’t sure what to expect. Maybe an apology. Maybe another argument. Maybe just… something. He knew Satoru could be cold when he wanted to, but still, the silence burned more than he thought it would.

And he hated himself for that.

Satoru had always been nothing but kind and patient, even when Suguru didn’t deserve it. Yet here he was, drowning in resentment he couldn’t name, feeling more like a ghost than a friend.

Pathetic, he thought bitterly. Maybe he should’ve just died the moment Toji carved that X across his skin. At least then, he wouldn’t still be here, dragging his shadow through Satoru’s light, a burden that refused to disappear.

.

.

.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Suguru decided to buy the crapes from that store after all. He was standing in front of Satoru’s room, a bag of vanilla crepes in his hand. There was no sound from inside. Suguru knocked again, too afraid to use his words. He was fidgeting a bit, anxiously waiting for Satoru to open the door. His fingers fidgeted with the edge of the bag as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, heart thudding unevenly.

“Would Satoru even want to talk to me? What if he was still mad?”

His train of thought stopped when Suguru knocked again, and the door still wouldn’t open. Slowly, Suguru turned the handle. It was unlocked. And slowly, he pushed the door open and peered inside.

Empty.

If Suguru was not mistaken, Satoru should also be back from his mission at this time. He was there in the classroom when Yaga-sensei assigned their missions, and in Suguru’s calculation, it was likely that Satoru’s mission would finish at the same time as his. Perhaps Yaga-sensei gave Satoru another mission, or Satoru might have something to do with his clan. But also, if Suguru had to guess, there was one other place Satoru might visit at this time

.

.

Suguru didn’t know how he ended up in this place. A crooked old apartment in a sketchy neighborhood. After an awkward phone call with Yaga, the old man agreed to tell Suguru about this place. Suguru climbed the stairs and walked through the narrow balcony, stopping when he finally spotted 2A on a door.

For a long moment, he just stood there, staring, gathering what little courage he had left. Until finally, Suguru raised a hand and knocked. Once. Twice. Surely, a sound of footsteps slowly approaching the door. 

But all of a sudden, Suguru froze in his tracks; his pulse spiked, his throat tightened, his palms slick with sweat. Satoru’s here. He was not ready to face Satoru yet. Not with his heart pounding this hard, not with the bag of vanilla crepes trembling in his hands like some pathetic peace offering.

Suguru instinctively closed his eyes, not sure what else to do. He was scared and embarrassed. What was he thinking? Satoru was going to look him in the eyes and reject him again. Suguru didn’t want that. Please, oh please. Anything but that!

Suguru was waiting, and waiting. Then the footsteps stopped. Silence. Suguru waited. One second. Two. Ten. Cautiously, he opened his eyes. The door was ajar, unlocked, half open. But there was no one there.

“Hello?”

The voice was small, cautious, almost suspicious. Suguru was startled, then glanced down. A pair of sharp green eyes stared up at him, unblinking and cold.

Fushiguro To— no. Megumi.

“H–hello… Megumi,” Suguru managed, his voice cracking awkwardly on the first syllable. He winced immediately. Brilliant, he thought bitterly. Real smooth, Suguru.

The boy’s brows furrowed, clearly unimpressed. For a moment, Megumi just stood there, clutching the edge of the door, eyes narrowing as if trying to decide whether Suguru was a threat or just an idiot. Then, without a word, he started to shut the door.

“Wait!”

Suguru moved without thinking. His hand shot out to stop the door, a bit too forcefully. The impact jolted the frame, and the next thing he knew, Megumi stumbled backward, landing on his butt with a soft thud.

“Ah—shit—sorry! I didn’t mean—”

Suguru froze mid-sentence, staring helplessly at the small boy now glaring up at him from the floor. Perfect. Just perfect. This was exactly how he wanted their reunion to go.

“Are you here to kill me?” Megumi asked flatly.

The words hit harder than they should have, quiet, but sharp enough to cut through the air between them. Suguru froze. For a second, he thought he had misheard. A six-year-old shouldn’t have sounded that calm saying something like that. But Megumi’s face was unreadable. Those same green eyes fixed on him, clear and cold, so much like his.

“N–no,” Suguru stammered. “No, of course not, I—”

Suguru stopped himself, realizing that anything he said might sound like a lie. His hands hovered uselessly in front of him, unsure whether to help the boy up or take a step back.

Megumi didn’t move. He just kept staring, waiting, as if he was used to expecting the worst.

And God, that was upsetting.

Suguru swallowed hard, guilt curling like smoke in his chest. And still, underneath that, Suguru could see Toji’s smirk, hear the echo of that night, the sharp sound of his own breath when the blade tore through air and flesh. 

Suguru gave up and turned his face away. “I’m not here to hurt you,” he said softly, almost to himself. But even as Suguru said it, he wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince, the boy or himself.

Suguru exhaled slowly, his chest tight. ‘What am I even doing here?’ This was a mistake. All of it. Suguru shouldn’t have come, not after everything that happened, not when Satoru clearly didn’t want to see him. And certainly not when Toji’s son was the one standing in front of him, looking at him like a stranger who might draw a knife at any second.

He took a quiet step back, clutching the paper bag of crepes tighter in his hand. “Right… I should go,” he muttered under his breath. But before he could turn and walk away,

grrwwlll.

The sound was small but unmistakable. Suguru blinked. Megumi froze, eyes widening just slightly before his face twisted in embarrassment. The silence that followed was almost comical. Suguru stared down at the boy, trying to process what had just happened. And then, despite everything, a tiny, almost helpless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

.

.

And now, somehow, Suguru found himself once again sitting at a dining table, this time across from Megumi. The boy didn’t seem bothered by his presence at all. The little boy sat there quietly, legs dangling off the chair, munching away at the crepes Suguru had originally bought for Satoru. There was no conversation, partly because Megumi was too busy with his food, but mostly because Suguru didn’t know what to say either.

He watched the boy in silence, trying to ignore the heaviness tightening in his chest. Megumi was innocent. Suguru knew that, of course, he knew that. The child had nothing to do with the sins of his father.

And yet…Every time Suguru looked at him, that face, that expression, those eyes; all he could see was him. That bastard. A chill crept up Suguru’s spine before he even realized it. Then, as if sensing the weight of his stare, Megumi paused mid-bite and looked up. Their eyes met. Suguru froze. The boy’s gaze was sharp, unflinching. And for a fleeting second, it was like staring straight into a ghost he thought he had buried long ago. Suguru quickly looked away, swallowing the tremor in his breath.

With nothing else to do, Suguru let his eyes wander around the room. It was tidy, unnervingly tidy. A half-empty box of crackers sat on the table beside an empty glass.

Suguru rose from his seat, moving toward the kitchen. The floorboards creaked faintly under his steps. When he opened the cabinet doors, he found only two plates, two mugs, a couple of packets of instant ramen, and three boxes of animal crackers stacked neatly on one shelf. No appliances. No real food, nothing that spoke of home. He frowned, curiosity tugging at him as he walked to the fridge. The cold light flickered on, revealing nothing but an empty shelf and a single bottle of water.

It didn’t make sense. If Satoru was really taking care of the boy, shouldn’t there be something more here? Some sign of life? Instead, the apartment felt like a temporary shelter, something put together in a hurry, then forgotten.

Suguru wanted to ask, but stopped himself. He wasn’t sure if it was his place to question anything. After all, he didn’t come here for Megumi. He came here to find Satoru, to apologize, maybe, or at least try to. He sighed quietly and turned back toward the table. Megumi had already finished eating. Suguru winced a little when the boy licked his fingers clean, then wiped them on his pants like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Without a word, Megumi hopped off his chair and shuffled to the low table in the living room, which was four steps away (two for Suguru). The boy reached underneath and pulled out a worn sketchbook, flipping it open to a page filled with faint crayon marks. Red, yellow, blue, black; the only colors he used, and basically, the only colors he had.

Suguru hesitated before sitting on the couch across from him, the old cushions sinking slightly under his weight. He watched as Megumi hunched over the page, scribbling in silence, the faint scratch of the crayons echoing in the quiet room. And for the first time in a long while, Suguru didn’t know whether to stay or leave.

“Does Satoru come by often?” Suguru finally asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them.

Megumi didn’t look up right away. He was still focused on his drawing, a blotchy mess of red and blue lines that almost resembled a sky, or maybe fire. After a few seconds, he gave a small nod.

“…Sometimes,” the boy murmured. “When he’s not too busy working.”

Suguru exhaled, trying to keep his voice even. “I see.”

That was enough of an answer, he supposed. At least the boy wasn’t completely alone. There was food in the cupboards, a roof over his head, and apparently, Satoru checked in when he could. Everything seemed… fine. So, why did it still feel wrong? Suguru leaned back against the couch, eyes tracing the uneven lines of Megumi’s crayon work. The boy’s focus didn’t waver, calm, composed, far too self-contained for someone his age.

Capable, Suguru thought. The boy's capable enough.

There was water, electricity, and at least a few things to eat. Megumi wasn’t starving. He seemed to have figured out how to live around Satoru’s chaos, which was more than most people could say. So, that should’ve been enough. Suguru massaged his temple, his chest tightening with something he didn’t want to name. He shouldn’t be here worrying about things that weren’t his business. He wasn’t family. He wasn’t even part of Satoru’s life anymore.

And yet, sitting there, watching that small figure quietly coloring with his three worn crayons, Suguru couldn’t shake the thought that maybe he should care. Because as much as he wanted to overlook the obvious, Satoru was reckless, and Megumi, for all his composure, was still just a child.

Suguru sighed, forcing a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Guess you’re doing fine on your own then,” he said softly. Megumi only hummed in response, not even glancing up. 

Suguru’s eyes drifted to the drawing Megumi had been working on. There were dark smudges, thick, uneven blotches of black and gray crayon covering most of the page. shadowy forms with crooked limbs and gaping mouths. Those certainly weren’t the kind of things kids usually drew.

“What are you drawing over there?” Suguru asked, his voice low, careful not to sound too alarmed.

Megumi didn’t answer at first. He pressed his crayon harder, tracing the jagged outline of one of the dark shapes. Then, without looking up, he said quietly, “I see them sometimes.”

Suguru blinked. “You see them?”

“Yeah.” Megumi paused, switching colors. “Outside. In the alley. Sometimes on the way to the store. They look like… monsters.”

Suguru felt his chest tighten. “Monsters?”

Megumi nodded, his tone steady, too steady for a child his age. “They follow people. They whisper. One time, I saw one try to grab a stray cat.”

Suguru understood. He knew exactly what Megumi was describing, but hearing it from such a small, calm voice felt wrong in every possible way.

“What do you do when you see them?” Suguru asked carefully.

Megumi finally looked up at him, eyes sharp and green under his long lashes. “I ignore them,” he said simply. “Gojo-san said if I don’t give them attention, they can’t touch me.”

Suguru leaned back slightly, trying to hide the unease creeping across his face. “Do they still follow you?”

Megumi hesitated, then shrugged. “Sometimes. But not when Gojo’s here with me.”

Suguru remembered the first time he had seen a curse. He was roughly the same age as Megumi, alone in an alley, when a shadowy, grotesque figure lunged at him from the darkness. He had screamed, run until his legs burned, and didn’t stop crying until the sun was setting. That fear had stayed with him for several years, lingering in nightmares and the back of his mind, shaping the way he faced danger even now.

He looked back at Megumi. The boy’s small hand moved steadily, coloring another twisted monster with deliberate strokes. He didn’t tremble. He didn’t hide. He didn’t even flinch when Suguru’s gaze lingered on the paper.

Silence fell again, heavy, filled with a thousand things Suguru wanted to say but couldn’t. He wanted to ask if Satoru knew how dangerous this could become. He wanted to ask if Megumi was scared. He wanted to ask why a child had to deal with this at all.

Instead, he just said, softly, “You’re very brave, you know that?”

Megumi blinked, unsure how to respond. After a moment, he just went back to coloring. Suguru sat there quietly, watching the boy draw another monster, his small hands smudged with crayon dust. He wished he could look away. He couldn’t.

>>><<<

Satoru leaned back against a concrete wall, arms crossed loosely over his chest, the faint hum of the city outside barely reaching him. Yet inside, his thoughts were anything but calm. He kept replaying the fight with Suguru, every sharp word, every tense pause, every flicker of anger and hurt in his friend’s eyes. It was not only the words they had exchanged; it was the weight behind them. Suguru had been hurt, no doubt about it. And Satoru knew it was all his fault.

‘Why did I have to bring Megumi into it like that?’ he muttered under his breath. He hadn’t meant for Suguru to feel cornered, to feel like he was being pushed aside. But seeing the way Suguru had tensed, seeing the way his eyes had shimmered with the threat of tears… Satoru felt something tighten in his chest.

He remembered the way Suguru had stayed quiet after his outburst, the way he had finally looked away before the tears flowed down. That image haunted him. Suguru, always so composed, so controlled, had looked small, fragile even. And Satoru hated that he was the one who had made him feel that way.

Yet, even with all that guilt gnawing at him, Satoru couldn’t shake the frustration. Not at Suguru, NO, but at the situation. ‘Why is this so damn hard?’ he thought, kicking at the floor lightly. He wanted to fix it. He wanted to make things right. But no amount of words, no matter how carefully chosen, seemed like it would be enough.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Suguru… you’re stubborn as hell.’

Perhaps, that was what frustrated him most. How much he cared, how much he wanted Suguru to understand, and yet, how impossible it felt to bridge the gap. For a moment, Satoru closed his eyes, imagining Suguru sitting quietly somewhere, alone, and a pang of guilt shot through him. He had messed up. He knew it. But he also knew he couldn’t just leave things like this. Not with Suguru, and not with Megumi!

With a shake of his head, Satoru opened his eyes. “I have to fix this. Somehow.”

Satoru was still lost in his thoughts when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. Satoru cursed at himself when he saw Yaga’s name flashing. Well, like it or not, he couldn’t actually ignore his teacher’s call.

“Yeah?” He answered, keeping his voice casual despite the irritation. 

“Satoru,” Yaga’s voice came through, crisp and urgent. “I’m sorry, but you need to leave for an overseas mission tonight. You need to report to the school immediately.”

Satoru’s eyes widened. “Overseas? Tonight?” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and disbelief mixing together. “That’s… That’s not a lot of notice.” 

“I know,” Yaga replied. “But it’s important. You’re the only one suited for this.”

Satoru pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long sigh. His mind immediately darted to Suguru. He hadn’t even had the chance to fix things with him, and now this mission would pull him away again. And then there was Megumi. That boy had been quietly waiting, so small and vulnerable, and Satoru hadn’t even checked on him today.

Damn it. Timing never seemed to work in his favor.

“Fine, I’ll go. I’ll meet you at the school later. I need to do something first.” Satoru muttered, ending the call. His jaw tightened as he stared at his shoes. He glanced back at his phone. He had a few hours to report, pack, and prepare. And yet, his thoughts kept drifting back to Suguru. He couldn’t just leave without trying.

.

.

Satoru rushed back to the school, heart pounding as he made his way to Suguru’s bedroom. But well, Suguru wasn’t in his room. Satoru barreled down the school hallway, the soles of his shoes clacking against the wooden floor. He spotted Shoko sitting alone in a classroom.

“Shoko!” he called out. “Have you seen Suguru?”

She lifted her head from her book, giving Satoru a look before pulling out his earphones. “Nope.” She replied simply.

Satoru clenched his jaw. With his own sudden overseas mission looming, the clock was already ticking. He wanted to search the campus, comb every corner, but he couldn’t. He had to leave soon, and he had other things to do.

“Hey, are you two okay?” Shoko’s observant voice cut through the silence.

Satoru let out a long sigh and sank into a chair beside her, slumping forward onto his arms. “No…That’s why I’m looking for him right now.”

Shoko just hummed and turned her attention back to the thick book on her table. “What happened?” She continued.

Satoru exhaled sharply. “We… fought. It got bad. I didn’t mean to lash out at him, but… I don’t know. I mean…I tried to talk to him before, but he just shut me out.”

Shoko tilted her head, her voice measured. “I see. And you’re worried, I take it?”

“Of course!” Satoru admitted, running a hand through his hair. “It’s like… I can’t tell if he hates me, or if he’s just… hurt. Oh, and the worst part is, I don’t even know how to fix it.”

Finally, Shoko put down her book; her calm gaze softened slightly, though her tone remained cool. “Suguru’s stubborn. He’s not gonna tell you his problem because he thought he could sort through it on his own. I’m sure you know this already!”

Satoru groaned, frustrated. “I know, I know! But it’s Suguru… I just… I hate feeling like I messed up so badly. We were acting like strangers now. ”

Shoko gave a small nod. “Look, Satoru. Rather than overthinking it, focus on what you can do now. Suguru may be stubborn as fuck, but we both know he has a soft spot for you. Don’t worry too much and make up already. Maybe he’s been shutting you out because he thought you wouldn’t understand his feelings.”

Satoru lifted his brow at her, “What do you mean I ‘wouldn’t understand his feelings?’ I was there with him at that mission, Shoko. Of course, I understand his feeling!”

“Okay, but how can he know that? You were so fast to acting so normal, so maybe that made him insecure. I’m not saying that you weren’t affected by what happened, but as Suguru saw it, he might think himself not as strong as you.”

Shoko’s words left Satoru quiet for a long moment. He supposed she had a point. He had never really understood how Suguru felt, never stood where he stood, never seen the world the way Suguru did. Maybe that was where everything started to fall apart.

Satoru sighed and ran a hand through his hair again, sighing. “You’re right...I’m gonna go. See yah.”

.

.

.

Satoru didn’t even remember how fast he got there. He just ran from the school gates to the station, from the train to this dusty old apartment. He had only a few hours left before his overseas mission, but he couldn’t leave without checking on Megumi. The kid hated asking for help, and the thought of him being alone gnawed at Satoru’s chest. He reached the familiar door and exhaled, trying to steady his breath before coming in. 

“Megumi, I’m here,” Satoru called out, forcing his voice to sound light.

But the moment he stepped inside, Satoru froze.

Suguru was there.

He stood in the small kitchen, sleeves rolled up, hair tied back loosely. A pot of ramen simmered on the stove, the air filled with the faint scent of soy and garlic. Slices of spam were sitting beside the pot, and two eggs were neatly cracked into a small bowl, ready to go in next. Spinach sat drained in the colander, the table already set for two.

Satoru blinked once. Twice. His heart stopped somewhere in between. Suguru appeared just as stunned as he was. His hand hovered mid-stir, chopsticks frozen over the bubbling broth.

“Suguru…?” Satoru’s voice cracked. The desperation that had been building all day. The rushing, the worry, the guilt, colliding with disbelief. “What… What are you doing here?”

For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. The quiet hum of the stove filled the space between them, along with the faint rustle of Megumi’s footsteps from the bathroom. 

Suguru blinked once, steadying himself, though his tone wavered just slightly when he finally answered. “...Making dinner.”

Satoru’s lips parted, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. He could only stand there, staring at the raven-haired teen, caught between relief and confusion.

Satoru finally found his voice, though it came out softer than he meant. “You’re… making dinner,” he repeated dumbly, as if saying it might make it make sense.

Suguru gave a quiet hum, eyes flicking toward the pot. “Megumi hadn’t eaten dinner yet,” he said simply. “Figured I’d make something.”

Satoru blinked, his gaze flicking from the pot to Suguru’s face. “Right… dinner,” he muttered, still trying to catch up to the reality in front of him. “Didn’t think I’d find you here.”

Suguru stirred the ramen once more, the steam curling faintly around his face. “Yeah,” he said softly, eyes still focused on the pot.  “Didn’t think I’d come here either.”

Satoru frowned, his chest tightening. “Then… why did you?”

That question hung in the air between them, the silence stretching until even the faint bubbling from the pot seemed loud. Suguru didn’t answer right away. He turned off the stove, setting the chopsticks down gently, and only then did he look up.

“I wanted to see you,” he said quietly.

Satoru froze. Suguru’s tone was calm. Not accusing, not pleading. It was honest in that quiet, disarming way of his. And somehow, that made it worse.

“You wanted to see me?” Satoru asked again, still unsure of Suguru’s confession.

Suguru took a long, deep breath. He took his time, as if steadying himself, but somewhat, he let his gaze down again. “I wanted to apologize, Satoru…The other day. I shouldn’t have said what I did, or how I said it. You were just trying your best, and I—” He broke off, exhaling slowly. “I let my anger talk first.”

For a long moment, Satoru just stood there, silently processing Suguru’s words before his lips twitched into something fragile but genuine. “Suguru,” he muttered, voice trembling slightly. “You didn’t have to apologize to me. Ever!”

Suguru’s shoulders relaxed, and he finally met Satoru’s gaze. The corner of his mouth crooked into the most beautiful smile. And for the first time in weeks, Satoru felt something loosen in his chest, a knot he didn’t even realize he’d been holding onto.

Before either of them could say anything else, a quiet voice came from the living room.

“Is it done yet?” Megumi yelled from four steps away.

Both of them turned their heads at once. The boy stood by the couch, his hair a mess and his expression utterly blank, though there was a faint impatience in his tone.

Satoru silently cursed under his breath, completely forgetting that there was a child involved in this scene at all. “Almost,” Suguru quickly said, regaining composure. “Give me a minute.” 

Megumi only gave a small grunt of acknowledgement before padding toward the dining table. The tension that had been wrapped so tightly around the kitchen began to ease, replaced by something quieter, more human. Suguru threw him a small smile before urging Satoru to sit at the table with Megumi

Dinner turned out far more ordinary than either of them could’ve expected. They sat together at the small dining table. Satoru on one side, Suguru across from him, and Megumi sandwiched between them, quietly blowing on his noodles before slurping them up with surprising enthusiasm.

By the time they finished eating, the tension that once hung so thick between them had vanished completely. The air was easy again, familiar. When Megumi excused himself and padded back to the living room, Satoru and Suguru lingered behind, both unwilling to break the quiet. Megumi was quietly doing his homework while both teens were quietly watching him.

“Hey,” Satoru said after a beat, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Thanks… for coming.”

Suguru glanced at him briefly, eyes softening. “Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

They sat together on the couch, the quiet hum of the city outside barely seeping through the window. The dishes were done, Megumi had already gone to bed, and now there were just the two of them, sitting side by side in the dim light of the living room. Neither of them spoke for a while. 

For the first time in what felt like months, it wasn’t awkward. The air wasn’t heavy with things unsaid. It was peaceful, fragile, almost. Satoru turned his head slightly, and his breath caught. Suguru’s profile was illuminated by the soft yellow glow of the lamp, his features gentle, his hair framing his face just so. There was something painfully serene about him, something that tugged deep in Satoru’s chest.

‘God, he’s beautiful.’

Satoru found himself staring, really staring, until he realized he had forgotten how to breathe. The faint curve of Suguru’s lips, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyes seemed lost in thought… Satoru wanted to freeze the moment right there. For a long moment, Satoru just looked at him. The room was dim, lit only by the warm glow from the kitchen light, and it softened the sharpness of Suguru’s features. There was something peaceful about him like this, something Satoru hadn’t seen in so long.

Satoru didn’t realize how long he was staring until Suguru glanced over, catching his gaze.

“What?” Suguru asked quietly, almost shyly.

Satoru looked away, caught off guard. “Nothing,” he said, voice low. “Just… glad you’re here, I guess.”

Suguru’s expression softened, a faint smile pulling at his lips. “You say that like it’s a surprise.”

“Well,” Satoru replied, turning his gaze to the floor, “after what happened last time, I wasn’t sure you’d even want to see me again.”

The words hung there, heavy, but honest. Suguru didn’t answer right away. He just exhaled softly and leaned back against the couch. “Yeah… I wasn’t sure either.”

Something about the way he said it made Satoru’s chest ache. He wanted to say more, to tell Suguru that he had missed him, that he was sorry for everything. But then, like the universe enjoyed cruel timing, Satoru’s phone buzzed sharply in his pocket. He flinched, fumbling for it, and groaned when he saw the caller ID. 

“Yaga,” Satoru complained under his breath.

Suguru raised an eyebrow. “You’re not gonna answer?”

Satoru hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. The phone buzzed again, insistent. He sighed and picked it up. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he said after a moment, his tone turning flat. Suguru watched him quietly as Satoru pinched the bridge of his nose, frustration flickering across his face. When he finally hung up, he looked tired and a little defeated.

“I have to go,” Satoru said, almost bitterly. 

Suguru just nodded. “A mission?”

“Yeah,” Satoru sighed, rubbing his temple. “Overseas. I was supposed to be at the airport… thirty minutes ago.”

Suguru blinked. “You forgot?”

Satoru gave a small, sheepish laugh. “Kinda hard to think about anything else when you’re here.”

That earned him a quiet look from Suguru, something between exasperation and something gentler. “You should go,” he said softly.

Satoru didn’t move. He just kept looking at him, frustration tightening in his chest. “I don’t want to.”

The silence stretched again, heavier this time. Suguru looked away, the corners of his mouth twitching faintly. “You always say that,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Satoru smiled weakly. “Because it’s always true.” He stood reluctantly, shoving his phone into his pocket. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he said, trying for a lighter tone. “Don’t forget me while I’m gone, okay?”

Suguru gave a quiet hum in response, but warm enough that Satoru knew what it meant. And as he reached for the door, he turned back one last time. Suguru was still there on the couch, calm and beautiful beneath the soft light, and for a brief, cruel moment, Satoru wished the mission could wait just a little longer.

.

.

.

Chapter Text

>>><<<

Suguru was crouched in front of the toilet, palms pressed weakly against the cold bowl. He had just returned from a mission, and now the aftermath was finally catching up to him. The bile burned bitter on his tongue, his throat raw, and for a moment, he thought he might actually pass out. Then came the headache; sharp, pulsing, relentless.

Suguru leaned back against the wall, breathing through his nausea and trying to steady himself. That was when he heard his phone buzz on the counter. With a long sigh, Suguru rose to his feet, gripping the sink to steady himself. It was not even noon, and Suguru felt like he was about to drop dead. He looked at himself in the mirror, wincing when he took in his own face. 

His face looked awful; pale, hollow-eyed. There was dried sweat at his temples, and his hair clung messily to his skin. He looked nothing like the composed sorcerer everyone else saw. For a moment, he just stared at himself. The exhaustion, the ache, the dull emptiness behind his eyes, all of it lay bare in that reflection. Then his gaze drifted back to the phone screen still glowing on the counter, Satoru’s name sitting at the top of the message.

And somehow, even in that sorry state, Suguru’s lips tugged into a small, tired smile.

A message. From Satoru.

“My mission is done!”

“Will be back tonight!!”

“Can’t wait to see you!!”

A little over a week ago, Satoru left for an overseas mission to Africa. It was ridiculous how much Suguru missed him. The noise, the teasing, the careless grin that always made it impossible to stay mad for long. Even Satoru’s infuriating arrogance, Suguru found himself missing that too. He sighed, leaning against the sink.

Another text brightened his phone screen again.

“I miss you, Suguru.”

“What are you doing right now?”

Suguru blinked at the messages, ‘I miss you, Suguru’, his throat tightening. Satoru never said things like that, not outright, anyway. Usually, his affection was buried beneath layers of jokes and smug confidence. But this? This was different.

Suguru stared at the message for a long moment, unsure of what to say back. He could almost hear Satoru’s voice, lazy and warm, echoing in his head. It made the quiet of his room feel heavier, lonelier.

He typed, erased, and typed again. “Just got back from a mission. Tired, but alive.”

Suguru hesitated before hitting send, but once the message went through, he felt something in his chest ease. And without him realizing, the fatigue from the mission instantly vanished, replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest.

A soft buzz came again.

“Hey…”

“When I get back…”

“Wanna go on a date?”

Suguru was frozen. For a moment, he thought he was imagining it. Perhaps the exhaustion was making him see things. But the texts were still there, glowing on his screen. A laugh almost slipped out of him, breathless and disbelieving. Yet, the thought sent a flutter through his stomach, warm and restless. Butterflies. Suguru hated how easily that guy could do this to him. He pressed a hand against his chest, trying to steady his heartbeat. 

Suguru typed back slowly, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Sure. That’ll be fun.” He hit send before he could think twice. Then, leaning against the sink, he stared at his phone a little too long, a faint warmth blooming in his chest despite everything.

After sending the message, Suguru set his phone down and headed to the shower, washing away the lingering ache in his muscles and the remnants of exhaustion that clung to him. When he finally stepped out, his head felt clearer.

He slipped into a clean shirt and wandered down the hall toward the shared kitchen. The dorm was unusually quiet. Suguru grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and took a long sip before dropping himself onto the couch nearby. The cushions sank under his weight, familiar, a little worn. He let his thoughts drift aimlessly until a cheerful voice cut through his reverie.

“Ah, Geto-senpai!”

Suguru glanced up to find Haibara standing at the doorway, grinning as always.

“Hey,” Suguru greeted, voice low but soft. “Didn’t you have a mission? Why are you still around?”

“I’m not here for long,” Haibara said, raising a small mission bag over his shoulder. “Nanami and I will go right now. I just need to grab something from my room.”

Suguru just nodded at him. “Mm. Be careful out there,” Suguru replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Haibara beamed, clearly pleased. “Will do! Oh, I’ll make sure to bring back souvenirs! Do you prefer Sweet or savory?”

Suguru smiled, amused by the sudden question. “Souvenirs, huh? You’re really taking this seriously.”

“Of course! Nanami says it’s a waste of money, but he’s boring,” Haibara laughed.

Suguru chuckled under his breath. He thought for a moment, then said, “I might share it with Satoru later. So, sweet, I guess.”

Haibara’s grin widened. “Then I’ll make sure to find the best one!”

“Thank you,” Suguru said, still smiling faintly as the boy dashed off.

When the door closed and the room fell silent again, Suguru leaned back against the couch, staring absently at the ceiling. He glanced at the clock on the wall; it was almost noon. Suguru figured he should go to Megumi soon. The boy was probably on his way home already, Suguru thought he could make them both lunch.

>>><<<

Plates of curry rice sat cooling on the table, untouched. The faint aroma of spice filled the small apartment, but it did nothing to ease Suguru’s restlessness. His foot tapped a steady rhythm against the floor as he glanced toward the door for what felt like the hundredth time. With a quiet sigh, he checked his phone again. The screen lit up, 12:47 p.m. Megumi still hadn’t come back from school.

“Where is he?” Suguru thought to himself.

Suguru’s anxiety finally got the better of him. He headed out and decided to check the school first. But when he arrived, of course, the yard was empty. The teacher on duty told him that classes had ended nearly an hour ago. A chill crawled up Suguru’s spine. He retraced the path from the school to the apartment, scanning every corner, every turn. When suddenly, something, a faint muffled cry, came from a narrow alleyway.

Suguru froze. The sound came again, sharper this time. He instantly rushed toward it. There, half-hidden behind a row of trash cans, Megumi crouched low, clutching his backpack to his chest as a dark, writhing shape loomed over him. A curse! Its form, grotesque and twitching, eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.

Suguru’s heart plummeted. “Megumi!” he called out, his voice cracking before instinct took over.

His cursed energy flared, and the air shimmered as Suguru summoned his curse, darting through the shadows like streaks of smoke. With one swift motion, the curse was gone, dissolved into nothing but a faint whisper. When the silence settled, Suguru ran towards Megumi, dropped to his knees in front of the boy. Megumi was trembling, face wet with tears, his small hands still gripping the strap of his bag. Then Suguru noticed it, a scrape on his knee, blood trickling down his leg.

“Hey, hey… It’s okay now,” Suguru murmured softly, brushing Megumi’s hair from his face. “You’re okay, Megumi. You’re safe.”

Megumi sniffled but didn’t answer, just leaned slightly into Suguru’s touch.

“Let’s get you home,” Suguru said, his voice barely more than a whisper. He lifted the boy into his arms and held him close all the way back. By the time they reached the apartment, Megumi had gone quiet, exhaustion washing over him. Suguru set him down on the couch carefully, his small hands still clutching the hem of Suguru’s sleeve as if afraid he would vanish.

“Stay still, okay? I’ll get some bandages,” Suguru murmured, brushing some dust off the boy’s hair.

Suguru checked the bathroom, and luckily, he found the first aid kit stored inside the drawer. He returned with the small white box, setting it on the table. Megumi watched him silently, eyes glassy and tired. The sight tugged at something deep in Suguru’s chest. Suguru crouched down in front of him, gently rolling up Megumi’s pant leg. The scrape wasn’t deep, but the dried blood and dirt made it look worse than it was. He grabbed a damp towel and began wiping the wound clean.

Megumi hissed quietly.

“Sorry,” Suguru said, voice soft. “I know it stings, but hang in there for a bit, okay?”

He worked slowly, carefully. Cleaning and disinfecting the wound before covering it with a small bandage. All the while, Megumi sat still, watching him with that unreadable look of his.

“There,” Suguru finally said, leaning back. “All done.”

Megumi glanced at his now patched-up knee, then muttered, “...Thanks.”

Suguru smiled faintly. “You’re welcome.” He said softly, trying to keep the air calm, “Now…Mind telling me what happened?”

Megumi didn’t answer right away. He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, facing away from Suguru’s gaze. “I was…” he mumbled, “…chasing a cat.”

Suguru tilted his head. “...A cat?”

Megumi nodded weakly, eyes downcast. “It was sitting near the gate at the school. But when I went to pet it, it ran. I followed it, and it went into the alley. And then… that thing came out.” Megumi’s lashes fluttered, and he bit his lip, trying to keep it from trembling. “Are you mad?”

Suguru blinked, surprised by the question. “Mad? No, Megumi. I’m just… glad you’re okay.” He exhaled, sitting back on his heels. “But next time, maybe don’t chase after random cats, yeah?”

Megumi gave a small, shy nod. And there, just for a second, Suguru saw a flicker of innocence, and Megumi suddenly looked like a normal child.

“Good boy,” Suguru said gently, patting his head. “Now, how about we get you something warm to eat?” Megumi didn’t answer, but when Suguru stood and offered his hand, the boy took it without hesitation.

>>><<<

It was already 9:30 p.m. when Suguru made his way back to the school. After his short visit to Megumi that afternoon, he had been assigned another mission. Fortunately, it went on quick and uneventful. which meant he had managed to make it back in time to share dinner with the boy and tucked him in before heading back to school.

Suguru had just returned to the dorm, the soft hum of the hallway lights greeting him as he closed the door behind him. He tossed his bag onto a chair and sank into the bed, exhaustion finally catching up to him. Suguru fished for his phone from his pocket. 

There were new messages from Satoru! He hadn’t noticed them earlier, probably too distracted by the mission and Megumi. He unlocked his phone, and there they were, a string of messages from an hour ago.

The first one was a photo of a paper bag filled with souvenirs. Satoru captioned, “Got you something! Don’t complain, it’s not cheap.”

The next was a selfie of Satoru at the airport, grinning under his sunglasses, hair a little messy, boarding gates behind him. “Boarding now. Try not to miss me too much.”

Suguru stared at the screen for a moment before a quiet laugh escaped him. Typical Satoru: loud, dramatic, and somehow still endearing.

“Idiot,” Suguru murmured under his breath, though his smile didn’t fade. He set the phone down beside him, the faint warmth of Satoru’s messages lingering longer than he’d admit.

Suguru’s phone buzzed again, the vibration sharp against the stillness of the room. He glanced at it, expecting to see Satoru’s name flashing on the screen, maybe another teasing message from the airport, or some silly photo he couldn’t resist sending mid-takeoff. But instead, it was Yaga.

The faint smile on Suguru’s face disappeared as soon as he answered. “Hello?”

“Suguru,” Yaga’s voice came through, heavy and clipped, no trace of his usual calm. “Something’s come up. I need you to head out immediately.”

Suguru straightened. “What? Where? What happened?”

“It’s Haibara and Nanami. There’s a mistake when they assigned the curse. The assistant manager lost communication for the last ten minutes.”

Suguru’s stomach dropped. Haibara’s cheerful voice and Nanami’s quiet stubbornness flashed through his mind. Ten minutes could mean nothing, or everything.

“I’m sending you their location, Suguru. Be there, quickly.”

“I’m on my way,” Suguru said without hesitation.

>>><<<

The cold mountain air punctured Suguru’s skin as he arrived at the location. The dense forest pressed close on both sides of the narrow dirt path. Suguru spotted the headlights of a parked car flickering faintly. Standing beside the car was the assistant manager, frantically stressing on her phone. She seemed to be texting with someone when Suguru slowly approached her. 

It wasn't until a mere step that she finally noticed Suguru’s presence.“Geto-san! Thank goodness you’re here!”

Suguru gave a curt nod. “What’s the situation?”

The poor woman swallowed hard, voice trembling. “Nanami and Haibara. They were supposed to exorcise a minor curse that had been haunting hikers in the area. But after they went inside, I don’t know what happened. Nanami called and said that the curse was far more dangerous than they had put in the report. I asked for details, but then the call suddenly ended. I tried calling his cell again, but no result! The same goes for Haibara.”

Suguru hesitated, glancing nervously toward the dark mouth of the cave ahead. “Don’t worry. I’m gonna go in and find them.”

“No, wait. I called for more help.” She pulled on Suguru’s wrist. “They’ll be here in a second. Please wait. You can’t go in there alone. It’s too dangerous!”

Suguru shook his head, eyes kept focused on the cave. “Nanami and Haibara are in danger right now. I can’t wait…I need to find them now.”

The cave loomed like a wound carved into the mountain, wide, gaping, and unnervingly quiet. A lone torii gate stood before it, the red paint weathered and peeling, and the shimenawa rope that once blessed it now frayed and blackened with decay. Cursed energy pulsed faintly from beyond it, slow and rhythmic, like the breathing of something enormous.

Suguru stepped past the gate, the air growing colder immediately. A faint buzzing filled his ears; whispers, laughter, something crawling just out of sight. With a flick of his wrist, Suguru summoned one of his curses, a small, slug-like creature with pale, luminescent skin. It floated beside him, casting a dim yellow glow over the jagged cave walls.

With that, Suguru turned and gave a confirmation nod to the assistant manager before he walked into the cave. Suguru walked with careful eyes. The deeper he went, the heavier the air became. After several turns through narrow tunnels, Suguru came across a staircase carved roughly into the rock, spiraling downward into the dark.

He frowned. “What the hell is this?”

It was odd. Suguru decided to summon another curse, a winged raccoon with hollow eyes, and sent it ahead, using it to trace Nanami and Haibara’s residual energy. It hovered for a moment before darting down the steps, leading the way.

The further he descended, the more warped the space felt. The walls seemed to pulse like veins. Then, a sound! A faint grunt. Suguru tensed, hands fisted on his sides. It was distant, echoing from deeper in the passage. A heartbeat later, he heard another, an unmistakable sound of someone in pain.

It was Nanami’s voice.

Suguru instantly darted, the soles of his shoes splashing through shallow water pooling on the cave floor. The faint yellow light from his curse bounced against the walls, catching up to Suguru. He could feel that whatever was at the end of the tunnel had destroyed his raccoon curse. 

At the end of the tunnel, a faint orange glow flickered, probably from a fire. Suguru slowed, and as he approached, the tunnel widened abruptly into an enormous underground chamber. His breath hitched.

And at the center of it was a creature that looked as if it had crawled straight out of a nightmare. It was an enormous spider the size of a carriage, its long black legs jutting from a slick, bulbous body that pulsed faintly with veins of light. But what disturbed Suguru wasn’t its size. 

A whole human torso with arms and head grew from its back. The hands were pressed together in a mockery of prayer, and its face was shaped like a Buddha’s, serene and calm. The eyes were closed, the lips curved upward in a smile too knowing. And below the torso was a giant mouth with fangs poking out.

Suguru felt the back of his neck prickle. The cursed energy radiating from it was terribly strong and wrong, as though it was stitched together from hundreds of writhing spirits. Suguru’s attention snapped toward a shape on the far side of the cavern. Someone was kneeling, half-slumped, half-propped against the wall.

“Nanami!” Suguru yelled.

The younger sorcerer lifted his head weakly. His uniform was torn and bloody. His right arm hung limp at his side, and crimson streaked down from a gash on his temple. Between them stood the curse.

The monstrous spider loomed in the center of the cavern, its body swaying gently as if it were dancing. Suguru clenched his jaw. Nanami was badly injured, but there was no clear path to get to him, not unless he created one.

Suguru needed a diversion. He summoned two of his lesser curses with a flick of his hand. They burst from the shadows, shrieking, their bodies dark and shifting like liquid. The spider turned to him immediately, twitching and letting out a low hiss. The moment it moved toward the distractions, Suguru took his chance.

He sprinted forward, sliding against the ground as he darted past one of the creature’s long legs. The curse was fast, but Suguru was faster, diving through an opening just before the spider swung its limb down like a spear.

Suguru landed hard beside Nanami, breath ragged. “Nanami!”

The younger one stirred, his eyes unfocused, but his hand reached weakly toward Suguru. “Senpai? Get back… it’s still here…” His voice was low and hoarse.

“I can see that.” Suguru quickly attended to Nanami’s wounds. His head definitely got banged hard on the wall, and his shoulder was dislocated. Suguru figured Nanami might have a concussion, but as long as he pushed down on the gush on his head, it was going to be okay for a bit.

However, as Suguru scanned the surroundings, a few steps away, partially hidden behind a pile of rubble, lay another figure. Haibara.

Suguru’s chest tightened. He moved Nanami to hide behind a giant rock and urged him to press on the wound on his scalp. Then, Suguru scrambled over to Haibara. Immediately, he felt his stomach twist. The boy’s uniform was drenched in red; the wound across his abdomen was deep, too deep. His breathing came out in wet, uneven gasps. That thing had slashed Haibara’s entire abdomen.

“Shit…” Suguru muttered under his breath while he assessed the boy under him. Haibara whimpered faintly at the touch, eyes fluttering open just enough to meet Suguru’s.

“Senpai? W-what are you…here?” the boy rasped, his voice trembling.

“Don’t talk. Just focus on your breathing, alright? I’m gonna get you guys out of here.” Suguru spoke, keeping his tone even as he poured cursed energy into his hand, trying to keep the bleeding under control. 

Suguru’s gaze flicked toward the curse again. The spider had already crushed one of his summoned spirits. No one was coming yet to help them. Nanami and Haibara were in critical condition; they needed to get medical attention now.

Suguru’s pulse quickened. Before the curse laid its attention back on them, Suguru needed to do something. He quickly assessed the situation. The spider curse was too close, its long legs scraping against the walls, cutting off every path of retreat. Nanami was barely conscious, and Haibara was losing blood fast. They wouldn’t last another minute if they stayed here.

His mind raced. Suguru gritted his teeth and slammed his palm to the ground, channeling his cursed energy. Then, a huge rabbit-like curse with tiny horns and glowing eyes appeared. Its fur shimmered faintly like dark mist, and its long ears twitched as it blinked up at Suguru, waiting for instructions.

“Take them,” Suguru commanded, his tone sharp and controlled. “Get them out of here. Now.”

The curse let out a low, guttural sound and slithered toward Haibara. With surprising strength, it expanded its body, turning puffier, its fur stretching like vines until it could cradle Haibara. Then, the bunny curse jumped to Nanami. Again, stretching its fur and lifting Nanami onto its back. Nanami tried to protest, his hand twitching weakly.

“Senpai–” Nanami tried to lift his head, his voice weak.

The rabbit curse glanced back once, its glowing eyes briefly meeting Suguru’s, as if understanding the gravity of the moment. Then, with a light hop, it started gliding toward the tunnel, its soft body floating inches above the ground as it carried the two on its back. The spider-curse immediately noticed the movement. It hissed, its legs twitching as it turned, ready to lunge after them.

“Oh no, you don’t,” 

​​Suguru seized the chance, stepping into its line of sight. “Hey!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. “You want a meal? Try me instead!”

The curse twisted its Buddha-like face toward him, the mouth below the torso stretching into a distorted grin.

Suguru’s expression hardened, but his tone was calm. “Yeah. That’s right. Look at me.” He could still hear the faint hum of his little transport curse echoing down the tunnel, like wind chimes fading into the distance. They were safe now.

Suguru exhaled slowly. “Alright then,” he muttered to himself, cursed energy flaring like a storm. “Let’s finish this.”

The spider hissed again, charging forward, the sound of its feet striking the ground echoing through the cavern like a thousand knives. Suguru barely managed to dodge, twisting his body to the side as one of the curse’s blade-like arms sliced through the air where he had just stood. The impact crushed the ground beneath, scattering debris around them.

“Fuck,” Suguru hissed under his breath.

The curse let out a deep, guttural sound that made the walls vibrate. Then suddenly, threads of web shot from its torso, thick and glistening and disgusting. Suguru countered with a flick of his hand, summoning two curses in quick succession. A serpent-like curse that darted forward and severed the strands midair, the other a winged creature that swooped down from above, clawing at the spider’s torso.

But the curse was fast. It swung one of its blade-arms upward, slicing the flying curse clean in half before slamming another leg down toward Suguru. Suguru leapt back, landing roughly on one knee, his breath coming out ragged. Every time he destroyed one of its limbs, the curse regenerated, knitting the flesh back together almost instantly.

“This thing’s a nightmare,” he muttered to himself, sweat trickling down his temple.

The spider tilted its human head toward him, that eerie, Buddha-like face smiling serenely despite the chaos. Its mouth opened, and then, a high screech resonated through the cave. Suguru quickly covered his ears and braced himself, as the high-frequency screech kept going for a while. 

When the noise stopped, Suguru was frozen on his feet, head spinning and eyes disoriented. Suguru’s instincts screamed move, and he threw himself to the ground just as a barrage of sharp, web-like threads shot from the curse’s abdomen, slicing through the rock wall behind him like paper. One of the strands grazed his arm, drawing blood.

He clicked his tongue and forced himself up. “Fine. Let’s see how much you can take.”

Suguru sent forth a powerful curse, a hulking, multi-armed gorilla that erupted from the ground beneath him, grabbing two of the spider’s legs and wrenching them backward with a sickening crunch. The curse shrieked in fury, thrashing violently, its web spraying across the chamber. Suguru used the opening to rush forward, cursed energy wrapping around his fist.

He struck violently through the creature’s torso, breaking the skin and the guts that poked out. Black ichor splattered across the floor, sizzling where it landed. The spider shrieked loudly, making Suguru lose his footing a bit. Suguru staggered a few steps, panting heavily. He could feel his energy running thin, but he refused to let up. With a final blow, his gorilla curse sent the curse flying to the wall. For a split second, the cavern lit up with blue-white light, and then the spider’s body imploded, collapsing to the ground.

Silence fell.

Suguru stood there, breathing hard, his shoulders rising and falling. The acrid smell of burned energy lingered in the air. His eyes darted around, half-expecting the curse to move, only for it to stay unmoving. 

Finally, Suguru let out a shaky breath and wiped the blood from his cheek. He pulled back his gorilla curse. Then, exhaustion hit him like a wave. He closed his eyes for a moment, grounding himself, before finally turning toward the tunnel where his rabbit curse had gone.

“I should get back,” he talked to himself, his voice low and tired. 

Suguru closed his eyes for a moment, grounding himself, before finally turning toward the exit. But then, just as he took one step, the spider curse let out a hideous screech as its body began to crumble. Its many legs twitched violently, scraping against the rock in a frenzy. Suguru stood his ground, his chest heaving as he watched it fall apart. The dark energy that held its body together flickered and sputtered out like dying embers.

He was just about to turn away when the creature suddenly convulsed. Its Buddha-like face twisted into something hateful and wild. Its human torso jerked upward, eyes burning red. Then, a thick, spear-like leg shot forward, cutting through the air with terrifying speed.

Suguru barely had time to react when the shot-up limb flew towards him. 

The sound–wet, sharp, final–echoed across the cave.

Suguru’s eyes went wide as that curse’s limb pierced through his abdomen. For a moment, there was no pain, only the shock of it, the disbelief that he had let his guard down. Then, the agony and pain hit him like fire, ripping through his body from the inside out. Suguru coughed, and a gush of blood splattered against his lips. His knees buckled, and the curse’s limb withdrew with a sickening pull, leaving a gaping wound behind.

“Arghh–huh–no–ahh”

Suguru stumbled on his feet, one hand clutching his stomach, the other bracing himself against the wall. His vision blurred. The sound of his own heartbeat pounded in his ears; fast, uneven, desperate. Blood soaked his clothes, pooling beneath him as it poured freely from the wound.

The spider curse gave one final, rattling breath before collapsing completely, its form disintegrating into black ash.

Suguru sank to the ground, gasping. His hand trembled as he pressed it tighter against his stomach, trying to hold himself together, but the blood just kept coming. It was warm, too warm, and sticky between his fingers. He coughed again, more blood spilling past his lips. His head throbbed, his body growing heavy, sluggish. He exhaled shakily, the taste of iron heavy on his tongue. The cave felt colder now, eerily quiet except for the faint sound of his own labored breathing.

Suguru thought of Nanami and Haibara. They should be safe now. His rabbit must’ve had them out by now. Suguru was grateful for that. At least, his underclassmen were going to be okay. Shoko was definitely going to heal them. He thought of Megumi. Suguru hoped that the boy would sleep well and wouldn’t get nightmares. 

Then, his mind drifted to Satoru. Just thinking his name made something twist painfully in Suguru’s chest. The sadness hit him harder than the wound. He could almost picture Satoru’s stupid grin, the way his eyes lit up whenever he laughed. The way he looked at Suguru, like there was nothing in the world that could ever touch them.

“...Satoru,” Suguru breathed out weakly, the name barely forming past his lips before his body slumped forward, his consciousness flickering like a dying flame. Suguru’s eyelids fluttered. The yellow light from his curse finally faded, leaving him in darkness.

And in that darkness, all Suguru could think of was Satoru.

.

.

.

Chapter Text

>>><<<

Satoru gritted his teeth, the sound of his own uneven breathing filling the sterile room. The sunset bled through the blinds, washing the room in a faint, fiery glow that was almost too warm for a place so cold. Suguru lay before him, still and pale against the white sheets, his face drained of color. The steady beep of the heart monitor cut through the silence, fragile yet relentless, each sound both a comfort and a curse, a cruel reminder that he was still here, but only barely holding on.

Satoru sat on a small stool by the bedside, elbows on his knees, fingers digging into his palms. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this helpless. The strongest sorcerer in the world, and yet he couldn’t do a damn thing for the one person who mattered most.

He had returned to Japan with a flutter in his chest, the kind that only appeared when he thought of Suguru. He had imagined their reunion so vividly; the easy smile on Suguru’s face, the teasing lilt in his voice, the quiet laughter that would fill the space between them. They had planned a date, simple and ordinary, something Satoru had been looking forward to.

But instead of laughter and sunshine, he was met with the cold sting of reality. Suguru had been hurt on a mission. Too much blood lost. Too close to death. Shoko’s voice wavered when she told him what had happened. Now, sitting here, Satoru could barely breathe. He reached out, brushing his fingertips against Suguru’s hand. It was still, too still. The contact sent a shiver through him.

For a long moment, Satoru just sat there, watching the faint rise and fall of Suguru’s chest. The world outside could burn, curses could run wild, but none of it mattered. All he wanted was for Suguru to open his eyes.

Then, the door to the clinic slid open with a soft sound, and Yaga stepped inside. His face was drawn, weariness etched into every line. He approached quietly, glancing at Suguru before turning to Satoru.

“How are you holding up?” he said at last, but Satoru couldn’t care to answer. Yaga just sighed and pulled out another stool to sit on the other side of the bed. “Nanami and Haibara were in danger. The higher-ups ordered to send Suguru since you weren’t in Japan yet.”

Satoru didn’t move. His eyes stayed fixed on Suguru, unblinking, his jaw tight enough to ache. “ And Nanami and Haibara?” he asked, voice low.

“They’re fine,” Yaga replied. “Suguru came just in time to save them. Both of them woke up this morning.”

Relief flickered for a second in Satoru’s chest, but it was drowned out almost instantly by anger. He clenched his fists, his voice trembling despite himself. “And what about him? He almost died out there! How could this thing have happened?”

Yaga let out a slow sigh. “I know.” He looked at Suguru, then back at Satoru. “And regarding the mission. The higher-ups made a mistake when they assigned the curse’s grade.”

Satoru scoffed at Yaga’s explanation. The room fell into a heavy silence. The monitor kept beeping softly, steady but fragile. Then, Yaga spoke again, quieter this time. “He’s okay, Satoru. He’ll wake up any moment now. You don’t need to worry?” When Satoru just ignored him, Yaga continued. “Have you checked on Megumi yet?”

Satoru sighed, turning to him, almost looking unbothered. “Don’t worry about him. I already asked someone to bring him lunch,” he said quickly.

Yaga shook his head. “That’s not what I meant, Satoru.” His gaze softened. “Suguru’s been keeping the boy company while you were away. I imagine Megumi’s wondering why he hasn’t come to visit yet.”

For a moment, Satoru didn’t answer. His shoulders sank as his eyes drifted back to Suguru’s face. “Megumi’s fine,” he insisted, but the words came out hollow.

>>><<<

Megumi came home to find the house empty. No big deal. He slipped off his shoes, lined them neatly by the door, and headed to the kitchen for a glass of water.

That was when he noticed a paper bag sitting on the counter. Inside was food. That was odd, he thought he was going to have lunch with Suguru today. But no big deal. Suguru had told him that he might be busy sometimes and wouldn’t always be around at mealtime. So, Megumi ate his lunch alone. It was quiet, but not unpleasant. Afterward, he pulled out his homework.

He stared at the pages for a while. To be honest, he didn’t understand much of it. These past few days, Suguru would sit beside him and help him with his homework, explaining things in that patient voice of his before heading out for missions. But now, Suguru wasn’t here.

Megumi sighed softly and picked up his pencil again. No big deal, of course.

‘It’s fine. He’s probably just busy. He’ll come later.’

He repeated the words in his head until they almost sounded true.

.

.

As time went on, Megumi grew restless. He didn’t know why. He couldn’t explain the strange heaviness sitting in his chest, the quiet ache that seemed to linger in him this whole day. He had never been the kind of boy to need much. He never knew his mother; her face was only a faint blur in a memory too old to hold onto. His father came and went like a passing shadow, never staying long enough for Megumi to remember his voice. So, Megumi learned early not to expect anyone to stay.

He told himself he didn’t mind. That being alone was easier. You couldn’t miss what you never had. But lately, that logic didn’t hold as well as it used to. 

Megumi glanced at the clock on the wall. The second hand ticked steadily, echoing in the quiet room. The sun outside had already started to fade, and the light coming through the window was turning soft and orange. He had been sitting there for a while, pretending to read, but the words hadn’t made sense for a long time. He couldn’t stop glancing at the door. At the empty shoes by the entrance.

Suguru still hadn’t come.

Megumi shifted in his seat, his fingers tightening around the edge of the book. The house felt too still, too quiet.  He let out a small sigh, standing up. His heart was beating a little too fast, though he didn’t understand why.

“Maybe…” he murmured to himself, “he’s still at the school.”

It was the only explanation that made sense. Suguru always said he lived there. Maybe he just got busy. Maybe he forgot to tell him. Megumi glanced once more at the clock. Then, without thinking too much about it, he grabbed his jacket and slipped on his shoes.

Megumi decided to go see Suguru at his school. He wasn’t really sure why. Perhaps it was because the house felt too empty, or because waiting made the silence worse. He remembered the route from when Satoru had taken him there once. 

Megumi walked for a long time, following the familiar turns and crossings. The afternoon light faded to amber, then to gray, until the sun disappeared completely. Night crept in, cool and quiet, and Megumi’s steps began to slow.

His feet were beginning to sore, and the air was getting colder, so he stopped by a small park. The lamps there flickered weakly, their light pooling in soft. He sat on a bench, catching his breath; the wood felt cold even through his clothes. The streetlights flickered on one by one, buzzing faintly. Megumi wrapped his arms around himself, realizing how chilly it had become. He tilted his head back, staring at the sky where the first few stars had begun to appear, though it was quite cloudy tonight.

The park was empty. There was an old swing set, a few benches, and a castle slide. The boy huffed into the air, the whisper of leaves brushing against each other in the evening wind. Then, from the corner of his eye, he noticed movement…A cat! Sitting near the slide. Small and black, its eyes glinting green in the half-light.

Megumi’s heart lifted a little. He liked cats. Suguru said it was because they were independent, like him. He stood up slowly, careful not to startle it, and took a few quiet steps forward.

“Hi there,” he murmured, crouching down. “You lost?”

The cat blinked at him but didn’t move. He reached out his hand, fingers steady, almost close enough to touch its fur. But then the cat bolted, darting toward the empty streets.

Megumi froze mid-reach, lips pressing into a thin line. He almost followed, but then a memory surfaced, Suguru’s voice, gentle but firm:

‘Don’t chase after random cats’

With that, Megumi retreated to the bench. And then, in the quiet night, a hiss. He hesitated. The trees at the edge of the park looked darker than before. Still, Megumi’s chest ached with worry when he heard it, the cat’s sharp, desperate cry. It wasn’t playful. It sounded hurt.

Before he could stop himself, Megumi ran toward the noise. The faint city sounds faded until all he could hear was his own breathing and the rustle of pebbles under his shoes. He found the cat in an alley, crouched low to the ground, hissing at something in front of it.

But there was nothing there. Megumi blinked, scanning the shadows. His heartbeat quickened. “Hey…” he said softly, stepping closer to the cat. “It’s okay. There’s nothing here.”

The cat’s ears flattened. It hissed again, claws digging into the ground, and as Megumi reached out, trying to calm it, the cat clawed at his hand. The pain was quick and sharp. Megumi flinched, pulling back, watching a thin line of blood bead on his palm.

“Ouchh–” The boy muttered to himself, and the cat ran away from him.

Megumi wiped his hand on his pants, but when he looked up again, something was different. The air felt wrong. The wind had stopped. The streetlight suddenly dimmed. Even the faint hum of the city seemed to fade away. Then came the sound: a low, guttural growl, rumbling from somewhere deep in the dark.

Megumi’s breath hitched. He turned slowly toward the noise. From the shadows, something began to take shape. At first, it was just a shimmer, like fog rising off the pavement. But it thickened, darkened, and began to move.

A massive, hunched figure emerged from the void between the voids. Its fur was patchy and black, matted with something that glistened wetly in the faint light. Its limbs were long and crooked, ending in claws that scraped against the ground as it walked closer towards him. When it raised its head, Megumi saw a single, enormous eye staring straight at him, unblinking and glistening like a polished stone.

Megumi couldn’t move. Every instinct screamed run, but his legs refused to obey. His breath came fast and shallow. The creature tilted its head, a horrible, curious motion, and let out another growl, this time louder and more alive.

Megumi stumbled backward, heart pounding in his ears. His back hit a wall. He wanted to call out for Satoru, for Suguru, for anyone, but his throat locked up. No sound came out. His small hands trembled as the curse stepped closer, its massive shadow swallowing him whole.

Ignore it, he thought. Ignore it, and it can’t hurt you!

But the ground vibrated with each step it took, and the smell hit him; a thick, rotten stench that made his stomach twist. Megumi’s knees gave out, and he fell to the ground. His palms were weak against his side, and tears blurred his vision. The curse loomed above him, fangs glinting, a low growl vibrating in its chest.

Megumi was so scared it hurt. His chest felt tight, his lungs burning, and in that moment, he realized, no one was coming. Not Satoru. Not Suguru. He was alone. The monster raised its claw.

Megumi squeezed his eyes shut, his whole body trembling. A whisper slipped from his lips, fragile and desperate… “Help…”

And then, suddenly, the ground beneath him rippled. 

At first, Megumi thought it was just his vision blurring from fear, but the darkness under his body began to move, stretching outward, twisting like liquid smoke. His shadow swelled, rising from the dirt as if it had come alive. The air grew heavy; thick, humming, pulsing with something ancient. The curse froze, its claw hesitating midair. From the heart of that shifting blackness, two shapes began to form.

A pair of glowing eyes opened first. The darkness stretched, solidified, and from it, two great dogs emerged. One was white, its fur shining faintly like moonlight reflected on snow. The other was black, darker than the night around it, its outline barely visible except for the gleam of its fangs. Both were massive, taller than Megumi when they stood fully upright, their presence radiating power that made the air vibrate, and in their foreheads, three red dots formed a triangle.

They stepped out of Megumi’s shadow in perfect unison. The black one took a position slightly in front, teeth bared at the curse. The white one lowered its head to Megumi, eyes sharp and focused, but calm. Almost gentle when they flicked toward Megumi.

Megumi’s heart pounded so hard it hurt. He couldn’t look away. He knew them. Somehow, without question, he knew them.

The memory came in flashes. Half-remembered dreams that had visited him since he was small. Nights when he saw two great dogs standing beside him, guarding him from things that crawled in the dark. Megumi would wake up each time before he could reach out to touch them, their shapes dissolving with the morning light. But now, they were here.

Real.

Alive.

The black one lunged first, moving like a streak of darkness, its massive body crashing into the curse with a sound that made the ground tremble. The white dog followed a heartbeat later, silent as lightning, its fangs flashing as it sank them deep into the curse’s side.

The curse screamed, thrashing violently, swinging its claws in every direction. But the dogs were faster, shadows and light intertwining, moving as one. The black one tore into its leg, dragging it down, while the white dog leapt for its neck, jaws locking with a sickening crunch.

Megumi couldn’t move. He could only stare. The sound of tearing flesh, the wet thud of impact, it all blurred together. Black and gooey sludge splattered across the ground, thick and steaming where it fell. 

Megumi’s stomach churned. His body shook, not from the cold, but from something deeper: shock, disbelief, awe. Both dogs didn’t stop until the curse gave one final shuddering wail and collapsed. Its form crumbled, melting into the ground like ink spreading through water. Then vanished completely, leaving only silence.

The dogs stood there, steam rising from their bodies. For a long moment, nothing moved. Then, slowly, both dogs turned. They sat side by side, facing Megumi. Their massive bodies cast long shadows across the ground. Their eyes glowed faintly, both fixed on him, watching, waiting.

Megumi’s heart pounded so hard that he thought it might burst. His throat was dry. He didn’t know whether to run, cry, or speak. His body was still frozen, caught between fear and fascination. That was when he heard it.

“Megumi!”

A voice; sharp, desperate, familiar.

Megumi turned his head just as a figure sprinted across towards him. Satoru’s pale hair caught the faint light as he ran, eyes wide and filled with panic. He must’ve sensed the cursed energy. He must’ve come looking.

“Satoru…” Megumi whispered, his voice trembling.

But before Satoru could reach him, both dogs rose to their feet. A low growl rumbled from their throats, deep and dangerous. The white dog bared its fangs, stepping slightly in front of Megumi as if to shield him. Their eyes gleamed, and for a terrifying second, Megumi thought they were going to attack.

“Whoa–What?” Satoru skidded to a stop, his hand instinctively raised. He looked from Megumi to the dogs, breath uneven. “What the hell?”

The growls deepened. Megumi’s pulse spiked. He didn’t think; he just moved. His legs finally obeyed him, and he stumbled forward, shouting,

 “No! Stop! Don’t hurt him!” The boy shouted as he stood between Satoru and the dogs.

The words came out raw, desperate. But the moment they left his mouth, something shifted. The two dogs froze. Then, slowly, both dogs stepped back, their tension easing. The black ones' growl faded to silence, while the white one blinked once before sitting back down, tail swishing once against the dirt. Satoru stood still, staring.

Megumi panted, his voice barely a whisper now. “Satoru’s not bad.”

The dogs stayed still, watchful but calm, their presence solid and unwavering in the night air. Satoru’s expression softened. He stepped closer, carefully, his gaze shifting between Megumi and the two creatures born from his shadow.

“Are you okay, Megumi?” he said softly, though his tone carried both awe and disbelief.

Megumi nodded. His gaze fell back on the two dogs that had saved his life. The two dogs he had only seen in his dreams were now real.

>>><<<

Satoru honestly didn’t know how things had ended up like this. Suguru was still lying unconscious in bed, and Satoru had spent the entire day sitting beside him, pretending that he was not going crazy. He told himself everything was going to be okay, because it always was, wasn’t it? But even as he said it, Satoru knew it wasn’t true.

By the time evening slowly came, he remembered he still had someone else to check on. The kid. So, he went out for a bit and picked up some ramen for dinner. It was supposed to be a simple task: drop off the food, ensure Megumi was fine, and then head back to the school.

When he reached the apartment, something felt off immediately. The place was quiet. Too quiet.

He set the ramen down on the counter and called out, “Megumi?” No answer.

The lunch he had dropped off earlier was still in the sink. Megumi’s backpack sat open on the living room table, notebooks scattered like he had left in a hurry.

Satoru frowned. “Hey, kid?” He called out again.

Nothing.

He checked the bedroom, empty. The bathroom, empty. That was when the faint, cold weight of panic began to creep in. Satoru straightened, his expression hardening. Faint traces of the boy’s cursed energy lingered in the air. The trail led him through the dim streets, the signature of Megumi’s cursed energy becoming clearer the closer he got. But there was something else mixed in, something wild and old, unlike anything he had sensed before.

Then, he saw it. In the dark of an empty alley, hiding from the pale glow of a streetlight, Megumi sat on the ground. His knees were scraped, his eyes wide, and his small body trembled with exhaustion. And in front of him, two enormous…dogs?

They looked like dogs, but they weren’t. Not really. One was pitch black, the other was white as bone. Both were giants, like wolves. Their presence radiated cursed energy so dense it made the air hum.

.

.

After that whole mess, Satoru ended up bringing Megumi back to the school. It was the safest place for him, and honestly, Satoru didn’t trust the kid not to wander off again. He still didn’t know what had possessed Megumi to be out alone at that time. Whatever the reason, the boy wasn’t getting away without a lecture later, one that would probably go in one ear and out the other. For now, though, Megumi was safe. Asleep, curled up under a blanket in his rooms.

It was almost midnight. Satoru should’ve been asleep too, but his body refused to cooperate. His head ached, his eyes burned, and his mind wouldn’t stop replaying the night’s events. The dogs, the look on Megumi’s face when those beasts tried to attack him.

Eventually, Satoru gave up on trying to rest and wandered back to the infirmary. Suguru was still there, lying motionless in bed. The rhythmic beep of the monitor filled the quiet room. He hadn’t stirred once.

Satoru slumped onto the stool beside him, exhaling slowly. The exhaustion finally caught up with him, heavy and dull. He slipped off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes, feeling the tension dig behind them. He knew that Megumi had Zenin blood; that much was obvious from the start. But tonight had shown him something else entirely. The kid hadn’t just inherited the clan’s name and blood. The boy possessed the prized Ten Shadows Technique!

The realization still made Satoru’s chest tighten, a mix of awe, worry, and something else he didn’t want to name. Satoru closed his eyes for a moment, letting the exhaustion finally sink in. But even as his breathing slowed, his mind didn’t stop turning, caught between worry for Suguru, concern for Megumi, and the faint, unsettling thought that fate was starting to weave something far bigger than he could see.

Then, something brushed lightly against his face. A soft touch, faint but unmistakable, grazing just beneath his eye.

Satoru froze.

He blinked, lifting his head. Suguru’s hand had shifted slightly from where it rested atop the blanket. His fingers trembled, reaching weakly to caress his eye. And when Satoru looked closer…Suguru’s eyes were open. Barely, but open.

“...Suguru?” Satoru’s voice came out quieter than he meant it to, almost afraid to break the moment.

Suguru’s gaze was unfocused, still hazy with pain and fatigue, but when it met Satoru’s, a faint, tired smile ghosted across his lips. His fingers brushed under Satoru’s eye again, as if to make sure he was really there.

“You look awful,” he murmured, voice rough and soft all at once.

For a second, Satoru couldn’t move. The sound of Suguru’s voice, the fact that he was awake, alive, hit harder than he expected. Satoru’s chest tightened, and all that exhaustion, all that built-up fear, cracked open inside him. He stood quickly, gripping Suguru’s hand before it could fall back to the sheets. His voice trembled despite himself.

“Don’t–” Satoru exhaled shakily, forcing out a laugh that didn’t quite hide the relief in it, “...Don’t say stuff like that when you’re the one who almost died, idiot.”

Suguru’s thumb twitched faintly in Satoru’s grasp, a silent apology.

Satoru tightened his hold just a little, thumb brushing across the back of Suguru’s hand. His other hand hovered for a moment, as if he wanted to reach out, to touch his face, to make sure this wasn’t just another cruel dream.

“Welcome back,” Satoru said finally, the words soft and sincere.

Suguru’s eyes fluttered shut again, but a faint smile stayed on his lips.

And for the first time in days, Satoru felt the air in his lungs come a little easier.

.

.

Chapter Text

>>><<<

“Deep breath, Megumi. Take a deep breath.”

They stood in the middle of the school’s training field, sunlight spilling over the grass and glinting off the edges of Satoru’s sunglasses. The air was warm, the kind of day that carried a quiet hum of cicadas in the background.

Ever since Megumi’s curse technique had first manifested, Satoru had made it part of his routine to train the boy whenever he had free time. And in just a short while, Megumi had grown sharper, more confident, his cursed energy more controlled, his instincts stronger. The kid was no doubt talented.

“Now, form it with your hands,” Satoru said, his tone calm but precise. “Focus on your energy, let it flow from your core.”

Megumi nodded, his small hands moving deliberately, forming the shape of a dog. Shadow stretched beneath his feet like a pool of ink. The air rippled faintly, and then…Two massive, fluffy dogs burst forth from the darkness. They landed gracefully beside Megumi, tails wagging slightly as they pressed against him in greeting.

Megumi’s face lit up with a quiet, proud smile. He reached out and patted them both, fingers sinking into their soft fur.

Satoru lowered his sunglasses just enough for his eyes to peek over the rims, a grin tugging at his lips. “Well well well, would you look at that,” he said, voice filled with amusement and approval. “You’re getting pretty good at this, kid.”

From under the shade of a nearby tree, Suguru’s voice chimed in, warm and teasing. “Good job, Megumi!” he called, clapping his hands.

Megumi’s face lit up at the praise. He broke into a run toward Suguru, his two shikigami following happily behind him, their tails wagged in perfect sync. 

Satoru smiled as he approached, hands tucked lazily into his pockets. There was a softness in his eyes as he watched them. Suguru, with his quiet warmth, Megumi’s small giggle echoing across the field.

“Have you given them names yet?” Suguru asked, voice patient and fond.

Megumi nodded eagerly. “This one’s Kuro,” he said, patting the black dog. “And this is Shiro,” he added, giving the white one a proud little tap.

Satoru chuckled as he stepped closer. “Shiro and Kuro, huh?” He gave Megumi a quick pat on the head. “Really creative, right?” he teased, glancing at Suguru with a grin that earned him an amused eye roll.

Megumi giggled when they licked him, then he dashed off with the dogs trailing behind him. Their figures running and playing in the sun.

Satoru came to stand beside Suguru, shoulder brushing against his. For a while, neither of them spoke. Suguru’s gaze followed the boy’s small figure darting across the field, his expression softened by something wistful. The wind stirred his hair, catching the faint glint of sunlight in his dark strands.

From where Satoru stood, Suguru looked almost unreal. The sunlight threaded through his hair like silk, each strand gleaming with a quiet depth, dark, but warm, as if the light refused to let go of him. His lashes cast faint shadows across his cheeks, softening the sharpness of his features. There was something tranquil about the way he stood, steady, composed, yet carrying a gentleness that didn’t quite fit with how strong he truly was.

His profile was calm, but his eyes held layers, the kind that drew people in without trying. Satoru had seen Suguru angry, laughing, exhausted, and bleeding. But it was this version, quiet and unguarded in the sunlight, that made something flutter in his chest.

Suguru turned slightly to him then, and for the briefest moment, his lips curved into a faint smile, small, tender, and fleeting, but it caught Satoru off guard all the same.

Satoru gazed at him, and the thought rose unbidden. Suguru looks beautiful.

“Hey,” Satoru said quietly.

Suguru hummed, eyes still on the field. “Hmm?”

“I’m free right now,” Satoru murmured, leaning a little closer, a playful curve tugging at his lips. “Wanna go on a date?” He whispered to Suguru.

That finally drew Suguru’s attention. He turned to look at Satoru, a smile beginning to form; slow, knowing, and just a little shy.

“A date? Right now?” Suguru asked, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

“Yeah!” Satoru beamed, his grin bright and unrestrained.

Suguru raised a brow, still half smiling. “I don’t know, Satoru. Didn’t we pull Megumi out of school today just so we could use this time to train him?”

Satoru huffed, crossing his arms with exaggerated frustration. “I know, I know. But you still owe me a date! And I wanna cash it out now!”

Suguru blinked at him, lips parting in disbelief. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched. He turned his gaze toward Megumi, who was still running around the field, laughing as the dogs chased him in happy circles.

“What about Megumi, though?” Suguru asked softly.

“Fine,” Satoru said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “We can take him, whatever. Now, can we please go on a date?”

Suguru let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “You really don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

Satoru grinned wider, stepping a little closer. “Not when it comes to you.”

For a moment, Suguru just looked at him, the sincerity hidden behind the teasing tone, the warmth that always managed to break through Satoru’s playful exterior. Then he sighed, a smile finally breaking through.

“Fine,” Suguru sighed, though the warmth in his eyes betrayed him. “But you’re buying us lunch.”

Satoru’s eyes lit up. “Deal!”

>>><<<

The little cafe Satoru picked was tucked along a quiet street, half hidden by ivy and tall buildings. It wasn’t fancy like the last place he brought Suguru, just a cozy spot with white curtains and wooden tables, the air smelling faintly of coffee and baked bread. Megumi’s eyes lit up when he saw the display of pastries by the counter.

“Can I get that one?” Megumi asked, pointing at a small tart with strawberries on top.

Suguru chuckled. “We’ll eat real food first, okay?” He reminded gently.

“It’s fine,” Satoru said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “You can have whatever you want. It’s on me today, remember?”

They found a table near the window. Sunlight spilled across the wooden surface, painting soft gold over their seats. Satoru sat across from Suguru while Megumi squeezed in beside Suguru.

Suguru ordered something simple, soup and rice, with green tea. Suguru also made sure to order a kids' meal for Megumi, curry rice with tamagoyaki. Satoru, on the other hand, went for everything sweet on the menu. Pancakes, parfaits, mochi. When the food arrived, Suguru just shook his head in mock disapproval.

“You’re going to make yourself sick,” he murmured, sipping his soup.

Satoru leaned his chin on one hand, smiling at him. “Then you’ll just have to take care of me, won’t you?”

Suguru sighed, though his lips twitched. “Unbelievable.”

After they finished their lunch, Suguru called the waiter over and ordered the strawberry tart for Megumi. The boy’s eyes brightened immediately. When the dessert arrived, soft sponge and glossy red strawberries glistened under a thin layer of syrup. Megumi’s face practically lit up.

“Thank you for the food,” The boy said, voice muffled as he took his first bite. Suguru smiled, watching him eat.

Satoru leaned his chin against his hand, amused. “You’re spoiling him, y’know.”

Suguru gave a small shrug. “He deserves a treat now and then.”

Satoru laughed softly. “D’awww, you sound like a dad.”

Suguru shot him a look, but the faint smile tugging at his lips stayed. They fell into a comfortable quiet. The cafe was cozy and bright.

After a while, Suguru glanced at Satoru. “By the way,” he said, tone gentle, “you haven’t told me much about your overseas mission. Africa, wasn’t it? How was it?”

Satoru blinked, caught off guard by the question, then smiled faintly. “It was… good. Different.” He leaned back, fingers drumming lightly against his glass. “Hot as hell, though. The kind of heat that makes even cursed energy feel heavy.”

Suguru’s eyes softened, the corners of his mouth tilting up. “You complained about that in every place we went to. Even Okinawa.”

“Yeah, but this was worse,” Satoru said with a short laugh. Then his tone gentled. “The curses there were strange. Old. Like they weren’t born from people’s emotions, but from the land itself. It was like the land was alive, full of old energy. Ancient, maybe. Wild things, they moved differently, thought differently.”

Suguru listened in silence, his gaze steady. Satoru always spoke easily, and Suguru always liked that about him.

“It was tough, but fun too.” Satoru continued, “Overall, it was a good trip. Weird curses, strange food, sleepless nights, but fun. The kind of mission that makes you remember why we do this job.”

Suguru held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded. “I’m glad you made it back safely.” His voice was light, but the sincerity in it was unmistakable.

Satoru’s grin softened into something smaller. “Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

Megumi pushed his empty plate forward, satisfied. “Can we get another one, please?”

Both teens looked at him, then at each other, then laughter erupted.

They lingered at the cafe a little longer, the remains of their meal scattered across the table, empty plates, a few crumbs from Megumi’s tart, the last of Satoru’s iced tea slowly melting into water. The sunlight outside had softened.

Satoru stretched lazily, hands behind his head. “That hit the spot,” he said, grinning. “See, Suguru? My date ideas are always perfect.”

Suguru gave him a look, half fond, half annoyed. “You’re lucky the food was good.”

Before Satoru could reply, his phone buzzed on the table. The vibration broke the easy calm of the moment. He glanced at the screen, a message flashing Yaga’s number on the screen.

Suguru noticed the sudden shift in his expression. “Mission?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Satoru’s grin softened into something more focused. “Looks like they need me for a quickie.”

“Satoru!”

Megumi straightened a little. “Can I come?” he asked out of the blue.

Satoru looked at the boy, then at Suguru, and smirked. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious?”

“Of course,” Satoru said lightly, slipping his phone into his pocket. “It’s mid-level, shouldn’t be too dangerous. It’ll be good for Megumi to see me in action. Maybe even learn a few things firsthand.”

Suguru sighed quietly, though there was no real protest in his voice. “You mean you want to show off.”

Satoru grinned. “That too.”

Megumi’s eyes were already bright with anticipation. “I want to see!”

Suguru glanced at Megumi, then back at Satoru, who was already standing, stretching his arms as if ready for another adventure. Suguru could never say no to that energy, no matter how many times he tried.

“Fine,” Suguru said at last, rising from his seat. “But if this turns into a mess, you’re taking responsibility.”

“Deal,” Satoru said easily, tossing a few bills on the table before heading for the door. “Come on, Megumi. Let’s go teach some curses not to mess with people on my day off.”

Megumi hurried after him, excitement buzzing in his steps. Suguru followed, slower, hands in his pockets. He watched the two of them up ahead, Megumi’s small stride trying to match Satoru’s longer one, their laughter echoing faintly in the cooling air.

.

.

They arrived at the outskirts of the city, where the streets grew quieter and the air turned heavy with dust. The abandoned building stood like a husk against the fading light. Concrete walls cracked with age, windows boarded up, ivy crawling up what was left of its structure.

Suguru reached for Megumi’s hand as they stepped through the broken gate. The boy didn’t protest, but his small fingers tightened around Suguru’s, a quiet sign that he wasn’t as calm as he wanted to seem.

“Stay close,” Suguru said softly. His tone wasn’t stern, just careful. He had seen enough of these places to know that even the quietest ones could turn unpredictable.

Satoru walked ahead, hands still casually stuffed in his pockets, his glasses gleaming faintly white in the sun. “Man, they weren’t kidding,” he said, voice echoing slightly through the hollow space. “This place reeks of cursed energy.”

The moment they stepped inside, the air changed. It was cooler, damp, and thick with the scent of rot and rust. Broken glass littered the floor, and faint graffiti marked the crumbling walls. Somewhere in the distance, a pipe dripped steadily, the sound sharp against the silence.

Megumi’s eyes darted around, alert but nervous. Suguru’s free hand was instinctively ready to summon his curse. “You sense it too?” he asked.

Satoru nodded once, his expression slipping into focus. “Yeah. It’s not hiding. Pretty bold for a curse this small.”

Satoru moved further inside, each step slow but confident. Dust rose around his feet, catching the slanted light that filtered through the cracks in the walls and windows.

Megumi squeezed Suguru’s hand once before his gaze fixed ahead. “I can handle it if it’s weak,” he said quietly.

Suguru looked down at him, a small, proud smile flickering across his face. “I know,” he said. “But let Satoru show you first, okay? Watch how he moves.”

Satoru turned his head slightly, his grin audible in his voice. “Oh? My own cheering squad? Don’t blink, kid. This’ll be quick.”

The air pulsed once. A ripple of cursed energy spread through the walls like a shiver. Somewhere deeper inside, something stirred. Suguru shifted his stance beside Megumi, clutching the boy’s hand tighter.

“Here we go,” Satoru murmured.

The sound came first, a low guttural hiss that vibrated through the cracked walls. Then the air shifted, thickening with malice as a dark shape crawled out from the shadows of a collapsed hallway.

The curse was large, vaguely human-shaped but hunched and distorted, its limbs too long, skin stretched thin and glistening. Eyes blinked in front of them, rolling and twitching as it let out a shrill, echoing cry.

Megumi flinched, but Suguru’s voice reassured him. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “Don’t be afraid.”

Satoru stepped forward, his grin returning, easy and unbothered. “Well, aren’t you a pretty thing,” he said, his tone light but edged with amusement.

The curse lunged.

In the span of a heartbeat, the air exploded. A flash of blue light sliced through the dust, and before Megumi could even process the movement, the curse’s body twisted, then vanished, cleanly erased by a single flick of Satoru’s hand.

The space stilled. Dust floated lazily in the air, and the faint hum of residual energy crackled before fading away.

“...That’s it?” Megumi asked, finally blinking.

Satoru turned to face him, brushing invisible dirt off his sleeve. “That’s it,” he said with a grin. “Fast, efficient, stylish. Awesome, right?”

Suguru exhaled softly, lowering his guard. “Show-off,” he murmured, though his voice carried a note of reluctant amusement.

Satoru smirked. “You love it.”

Megumi ran forward a few steps, eyes still wide with wonder. “How did you do that? It didn’t even touch you!”

“That’s the point,” Satoru said, crouching down so he was eye-level with the boy. “You win by not letting it touch you at all. Curses are dangerous, Megumi. It's best to finish the job by not letting them have the upper hand. If you keep your head clear, they’re easy to beat!”

Suguru walked closer, standing behind them. “That’s one way to put it,” he said dryly. “Though maybe don’t tell him it’s ‘easy.’”

Satoru looked up at him and smirked. “What, you’d rather I make it sound scary?”

Suguru met his gaze for a moment, and something softened between them. Then he turned to Megumi. “What did you learn from watching?”

Megumi thought for a moment. “That Satoru’s really strong,” he said finally, shrugging his shoulders. 

Satoru’s grin grew wider. “See, even the kid gets it.” He stood straight and patted Megumi’s hair. “For being so smart. You deserved a prize.”

>>><<<

Satoru decided to take Suguru and Megumi to a toy store after the quick mission. The place was bright and a little noisy, rows of colorful toys stacked high, the air filled with cheerful music.

“Alright, kid,” Satoru said, sliding his sunglasses up to his nose. “Pick whatever you want. Anything catches your eye, it’s yours.”

Megumi looked up at him, skeptical. “Anything?”

“Anything,” Satoru repeated with a grin. “Don’t worry about the price tag. I’m rich and generous.”

Suguru snorted. “You mean reckless.”

.

Megumi walked down one of the aisles. He wasn’t used to this kind of thing, being told to choose something just because he wanted it. After a while, he stopped in front of a small stuffed white wolf with blue eyes. He picked it up carefully, staring at it in silence.

“This one,” he murmured.

Satoru leaned closer. “A wolf? Hah, figures. You sure you don’t want something cooler? Maybe a dragon with laser eyes?”

Megumi shook his head. “No. This one’s fine.”

Suguru smiled softly. “It suits you, Megumi.”

“Yeah,” Satoru added, tapping the toy’s nose. “Kinda reminds me of you. Small, serious, and probably bites.”

Megumi shot him a deadpan look, clutching the toy closer. “I don’t bite.”

“Yet,” Satoru teased, laughing as Suguru lightly smacked his arm.

“Stop picking on him,” Suguru said, though his tone was fond. 

After paying for the stuffed wolf, Satoru declared, “Next stop, ice cream!”

They ended up at a small park nearby. The afternoon sun was soft, the air warm and a little sweet from the scent of grass. Satoru handed out cones; his was strawberry, Suguru was chocolate, and Megumi was vanilla.

They sat together under a tree, just talking about nothing in particular. Suguru was telling a funny story from when they were in class, Satoru was exaggerating his own missions, Megumi was quietly listening, sometimes muttering a dry comment that made them both laugh.

They stayed at the park until the sun began to dip low, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold. The laughter had quieted into easy conversation, and even Satoru had gone still, his usual energy softened by the calm.

Megumi’s eyelids drooped as he sat between them, his small hands still clutching the stuffed white wolf. It had been a long day: going on a mission, walking through the toy store, eating ice cream, wandering the park trails. When they finally stood to leave, Megumi yawned and tried to keep up, but his pace lagged behind.

Satoru glanced back and crouched down. “C’mon, hop on.”

Megumi pouted, stubborn as ever. “I can walk.”

“Sure you can,” Satoru said, smiling. “But I can walk faster.”

Suguru chuckled quietly. “Just let him carry you, Megumi. You’ll fall asleep on your feet otherwise.”

Megumi hesitated, then finally climbed onto Satoru’s back. He rested his head against Satoru’s shoulder, the wolf plush pressed between them.

Satoru adjusted his grip, voice dropping to something softer. “Comfy?”

A quiet hum was his answer.

They walked through the quiet streets together, the glow of the setting sun fading into the evening. Suguru walked beside them, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he watched the two.

By the time they reached Megumi’s apartment, the streetlights were on. Satoru and Suguru stepped into the quiet apartment, the soft hum of the city night seeping through the window. Satoru carried Megumi carefully on his back, the boy already fast asleep, still clutching his little white wolf.

In the bedroom, Suguru had to take Megumi off Satoru’s back and lay him down on the futon. The child stirred faintly but didn’t wake, his face peaceful under the faint moonlight spilling through the curtains. 

They stepped out quietly and shut the door behind them.

Suguru casually plopped on the couch, the window cracked open. The cool night breeze and city lights slipped in. Satoru joined a second later, sinking into the seat beside him. They didn’t say much, just sat there, watching the glow of the streetlights outside flicker over the glass. The world felt still for once.

Satoru leaned back, stretching an arm along the top of the couch. “He was out the moment we got here,” he murmured.

Suguru smiled faintly. “Can’t blame him. You made him walk everywhere today.”

Satoru chuckled softly. “Hey, I carried him at the end.”

“Hmm. You actually looked responsible for a change,” Suguru teased, though there was warmth in his tone.

The laughter between them faded into a comfortable silence. The night pressed gently against the windows, lulling them into calm.

The moonlight seeped gently through the window, casting silver patterns across the living room. Satoru sat in quiet thought, his gaze drifting toward Suguru beside him. The soft light touched Suguru’s face; his hair glimmered faintly, the curve of his cheek bathed in pale white.

Satoru found himself staring longer than he meant to. Suguru must’ve felt it because he turned his head, eyes meeting his.

“What?” Suguru asked quietly, a small, curious tilt in his voice.

But Satoru didn’t look away. He couldn’t. Suguru looked different now; healthier, calmer, like the heavy weight he used to carry had finally lifted. His purple eyes gleamed brighter than Satoru remembered, and his lips, once pale from exhaustion, had the faintest color of warmth now, pink and alive.

Satoru’s chest tightened a little, and he smiled, though it was softer than his usual grin. “You look… beautiful.”

Suguru froze for a heartbeat, surprise flickering in his eyes. The silence stretched between them; quiet, tender, almost fragile.

He didn’t say anything, just kept staring back at Satoru, eyes wide, searching his face for a hint of teasing. But Satoru’s expression didn’t waver. There was no joke this time, no grin hiding behind his words, only honesty.

And under the moonlight, the air between them felt different, gentle and warm, yet heavy with everything left unspoken.

Satoru’s hand moved before he could think. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reached out and brushed a strand of Suguru’s hair away from his face. The movement was gentle, careful, as if he was afraid that even a touch too firm might break the fragile quiet between them.

Suguru’s breath shortened, but he didn’t pull away. He just watched him, still and calm, his eyes reflecting the pale shimmer of moonlight.

Satoru’s fingers lingered for a moment, tracing the air near Suguru’s temple before falling away. He wanted to see him better, to really see him. The soft glow touched every detail: the curve of his lashes, the faint color on his cheeks, the way his lips parted just slightly as he breathed.

Satoru leaned closer, inch by inch, drawn without meaning to. The air between them grew thin, heavy with something unspoken.

And Suguru… didn’t move. He stayed there, unmoving, his gaze steady on Satoru’s. Waiting, not uncertain, but quiet, patient, as if he already knew what Satoru wanted to do without words.

The world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the stillness, the moonlight, and the space that was slowly disappearing between them.

.

.

Then, suddenly, Satoru’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

The low hum cut straight through the silence, and the shift in Satoru’s expression was immediate; his brows knitted tight, jaw clenching, the muscles in his shoulders going rigid. He stayed frozen for half a second, as if refusing to believe it, before exhaling sharply through his nose.

“…No fucking way,” he muttered, his voice low, taut with annoyance. He pulled back and grabbed his phone from his pocket.

Suguru, on the other hand, had gone utterly still. The sudden interruption left him flustered and off-balance. He turned slightly away, one hand brushing through his hair, trying to look composed while his cheeks still glowed with color.

Satoru scowled down at his screen, his thumb hovering over the message. “The hell. It’s Yaga.”

Suguru blinked, forcing himself to focus. “Yaga?” His voice came out softer than intended, still shaky.

Satoru turned the phone so he could see. “Urgent meeting with the higher-ups. Come, now!!”

Satoru let out a long, exasperated groan and slumped back against the couch. “Of course. Of course it’s them.” He rubbed his face with both hands, muffling a curse. “Those old farts have probably been sitting on this for hours and only now decide it’s urgent.”

Suguru blinked, still pink-cheeked, his voice quieter than usual. “A meeting with the higher-ups… it sounds important.”

Satoru turned to him sharply, disbelief in his glare. “You’re taking their side? Really?”

“I’m not taking anyone’s side,” Suguru said quickly, though his tone came out uneven. His fingers twisted in the fabric of his sleeve as he tried to look calm. “But if it’s the higher-ups, ignoring it might make things worse.”

Satoru let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Oh, it’s already worse. It’s always worse when they’re involved.” He pushed a hand through his hair, messing it up more. “I swear, they can’t breathe without scheduling a meeting about it.”

Suguru smiled faintly despite himself, though his eyes were still a bit unfocused, lost between embarrassment and concern. “You know you’ll have to go.”

Satoru threw his head back with a groan. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t remind me.” He stayed slouched for a few more seconds, glaring at the ceiling like it owed him an apology. “Couldn’t they have waited, like, twenty more minutes?”

Suguru’s face went a deeper shade of red at that. “T-twenty minutes?!” he repeated before looking away quickly. “Y–you should probably get going.”

“I know,” Satoru said, dragging himself upright with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. I’ll go listen to them talk about whatever nonsense they are panicking this time.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket, still muttering under his breath. “Bet it’s another ‘urgent’ crisis that could’ve been an email.”

As Satoru headed for the door, he paused and glanced back. Suguru was still sitting on the couch, avoiding his gaze, the moonlight catching in his hair and the faint color still on his cheeks.

Satoru’s annoyance softened just a little. “Don’t fall asleep before I get back,” he said quietly.

Suguru looked up at him, his lips curving into a small, uncertain smile. “No promises.”

>>><<<

Satoru stormed down the quiet hallway, his long strides echoing off the walls. His expression was flat, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his growing irritation. He didn’t bother to knock. The doors to the meeting room slammed open with a sharp bang as Satoru stepped inside, hands buried in his pockets.

“Alright, I’m here,” he announced loudly. “Who do I have to glare at to make this quick?”

Yaga, seated at the long table with a stack of papers in front of him, immediately groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Satoru strolled in like he owned the place, sunglasses still on even though the room was dim. He didn’t bow, didn’t greet anyone, just dragged a chair out with a loud screech and flopped into it. 

“You all look so serious,” he said lazily. “Is this about me again? Because if it is, I’m charging an hourly rate.”

One of the higher-ups scowled. “Gojo Satoru, this attitude of yours–”

“Yeah, yeah, heard it before,” Satoru interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m irresponsible, arrogant, disrespectful to authority, yadda yadda. Can we skip the lecture part and get to why I’m actually here? I had plans, you know.”

Yaga’s palm met his face with an audible smack. “Satoru,” he warned quietly, voice laced with frustration.

Satoru huffed, slouching deeper into his seat. “I’m serious, Yaga. What’s so important it couldn’t wait till morning?”

For a moment, there was only the sound of someone clearing their throat. Then, from the far side of the table, a calm, older voice spoke.

“I believe that would be me.”

Satoru froze. His head turned slightly, and for the first time, he noticed the figure seated just a few steps away from him, someone he hadn’t seen when he barged in.

Naobito Zenin.

The man sat with his usual relaxed arrogance, eyes half-lidded but sharp as a blade. The weight of his presence filled the room instantly.

Satoru’s easy grin faltered. His shades slid slightly down the bridge of his nose as his bright blue eyes widened. “...Oh.”

Naobito gave him a small, knowing smirk. “Didn’t see me there, did you, boy?”

Satoru leaned back slowly, the shift in his expression subtle but unmistakable, his irritation flickering into wary attention. “Well, if I had, maybe I’d have kicked the door open a little quieter.”

Naobito chuckled lowly, the sound deep and amused. “Still the same brat as ever,” he said. Then, his tone sharpened just slightly. “Good. That means this conversation will be interesting.”

Satoru tilted his head, feigning nonchalance, though his fingers tapped idly on the table. “So…” he started. “What’s this all about? You didn’t drag me out here just to check on me, didn’t you?”

Naobito’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “No,” he said, setting his hands down on the table. “It’s about the boy you’ve taken in.”

The air in the room changed; heavy, quiet, and cold.

And just like that, Satoru’s smirk disappeared completely.

.

.

.

Chapter Text

>>><<<

Megumi had just gotten back from school when he heard them arguing inside. He was standing by the door then, listening carefully while trying to make sense of their words. They were fighting for sure. The last fight they had was months ago. Megumi didn’t understand what they were talking about. Not then, not now. But he did know one thing. It was because of him.

When he finally decided to turn the knob, the yelling instantly stopped. The two teens greeted him, smiling like they weren’t just shouting at each other a second ago. It annoyed Megumi tremendously. Did they think he was deaf, that he didn’t just hear their stupid argument? Unfortunately, that was not even the worst part yet. Because now, Megumi had to, yet again, endure a very awkward ‘dining-table conversation’.

They were having dinner, not as usual, since it was usually only either Suguru or Satoru at the table across from him. This evening, they were both sitting in front of him. Because Suguru was home, he cooked dinner for them. A pot of beef stew was shimmering on the stove, and the rich scent of broth filled the kitchen. Megumi knew he shouldn’t be picky considering his previous living condition, but still, he liked it more when Suguru was around.

Satoru and Suguru had a schedule, a sort of unspoken system about who would stay when the other was busy. When Suguru had an overnight mission, Satoru was in charge of him. Satoru never cooked when it was his turn. He would just ask Megumi what he wanted to eat, then order it for him. Megumi didn’t complain. He was grateful enough for whatever they had given him. Plus, Satoru often bought him sweets to eat after dinner. 

The downside, though, training with Satoru was part of the deal. Despite his goofy demeanor, Satoru was really tough. Megumi had to endure an hour of tiring training every single day. 

His days with Suguru, though, were nothing like that. No training. No talk of curses. Nothing about sorcery at all. Suguru was there when Megumi got home from school. He would make sure dinner was ready, ask about his day, help him with homework, buy him books, and once, even a new box of crayons.

.

.

The air felt heavier now. Awkward. Megumi had seen them argue before, but this silence was different. It wasn’t loud or angry this time. It was quiet, tense, like everyone was trying too hard to pretend nothing was wrong.

Dinner was over. The table was cleared by Satoru, the stew cooling on the stove. Suguru stood by the sink, sleeves rolled up, washing the dishes with slow, careful movements. The steady rush of water was the only sound in the room. Across from Megumi, Satoru, pretending to be relaxed, but Megumi could see it. The way his shoulders slumped just slightly, the way he wasn’t smiling quite as wide as usual. Something was off.

“Megumi,” Satoru said suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet. “You know about your dad’s family, right?”

The question caught Megumi off guard. He looked up to him, blinking. “My dad’s family?”

Satoru nodded, watching him over the rim of his sunglasses. “Yeah. The Zenin clan.”

From the sink, Suguru’s hand paused mid-rinse. The water kept running.

Megumi hesitated before answering. “He mentioned them once,” he said. “He said they were horrible people. A bunch of no-good sorcerers.” That was all he knew, and honestly, all he wanted to know.

Satoru exhaled, quiet but strained. “Well,” he said, forcing a grin that didn’t reach his eyes, “The thing is, Megumi. Your family had reached out to us.”

Megumi frowned, confused by the statement. “What do you mean?”

Satoru sighed before putting on another fake smile on his face. “Well..Umm. Your family said that they wanted to meet you.”

For a moment, the words didn’t make sense. Megumi just stared at him. “What?” he said at last, his voice small. “Why?”

Satoru smiled, too casual to be convincing. “They’re your family, Megumi. Of course, they wanted to meet you.” He tried to laugh, but it came out thin and brittle. “They’re coming to pick you up tomorrow morning, so…” He raised a hand in a lazy thumbs-up, flashing that same dumb grin. “Go to bed early tonight, yeah?”

Megumi didn’t respond. His thoughts were a blur, spinning too fast to catch. Why now? Why him? What did they want? If this was Satoru’s idea of a joke, Megumi was not laughing.

From the sink, a plate clattered harder than it should have. Suguru didn’t look up. His jaw was tight, his shoulders rigid, but he stayed silent. Satoru didn’t turn around. He just leaned back in his chair, staring somewhere past Megumi, his grin long gone.

The sound of running water filled the space between them; steady, heavy, and unbearably loud.

Finally, Suguru turned off the faucet. The rush of water died, leaving the kitchen eerily quiet. He turned around, drying his hands on a towel, but didn’t move any closer. He stayed by the counter, distant, his eyes unreadable.

For the first time in his life, Megumi wanted to punch someone. His chest burned with frustration. He slammed his hands on the table, the sound sharp in the silence. Both Satoru and Suguru flinched, just slightly, but enough for him to notice.

Suguru let out a long, tired sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked exhausted already, like he’d been expecting this. Satoru, on the other hand, didn’t even try to hide his irritation.

“Stop acting like a brat, would you?” Satoru snapped. “Why can’t you just be a good kid and listen to what I say for once?”

Megumi’s glare darkened. He slammed his palms down again and, before he could stop himself, pushed up onto his chair. Standing on it made him just tall enough to meet Satoru’s eye, maybe even a little higher. His voice came out shaking, sharp with anger.

“Why do I have to go meet them? I don’t even know them! I don’t wanna go see some dumb strangers!” Megumi yelled

Satoru scoffed, shoving his chair back so hard it scraped against the floor. He stood, towering over Megumi now, his sunglasses catching the kitchen light. “Stop with the attitude, Megumi. This isn’t up for debate. You’re going to meet the Zenins, and that’s the end of the story.”

Unbelievable. Megumi never asked for that. He hated his father, and he was certain that he was going to dislike whoever was related to that man. Satoru didn’t even ask for Megumi’s input on this matter; deciding things as he liked, as if he were just a mere object with no opinion.

But apart from that, the thing that bugged him most was why Satoru and Suguru agreed to send him away. Did Megumi do something wrong? Had they grown tired of him already? Megumi refused to believe this! He turned to Suguru, who chose to remain silent throughout, seeking more explanation from the raven-haired teen. Suguru’s expression softened just a fraction when their eyes met.

“It’ll be only for a week.” Suguru quietly said. “And then you’ll be back with us.”

Something in his tone, steady and gentle, cut through the noise in Megumi’s head. The anger and worries slowly drained out of him, leaving only a dull ache. He climbed down from the chair and sat back down, shoulders slumped.

Suguru finally moved away from the counter. His footsteps were soft against the floor as he walked back to the table and sat down across from Megumi.

Megumi didn’t look up. He couldn’t. His hands were clenched in his lap, and his throat felt tight. A part of him wanted to yell again, but the rest of him just felt… weak. More than angry, he felt betrayed.

Suguru’s voice came gently, breaking through the silence. “We don’t want this either,” he said. “But it’s not going to be forever.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and uncertain.

Satoru stood nearby, arms crossed, still wearing that hard, unyielding look on his face. His sunglasses hid his eyes, but Megumi didn’t need to see them to know he was frustrated, perhaps even guilty.

Megumi bit the inside of his cheek, still staring at the table. He wanted to believe Suguru, he really did. But the ache in his chest wouldn’t go away.

>>><<<

As Satoru had promised, a sleek black car pulled up in front of the house first thing in the morning. The low hum of the engine filled the quiet street, too sharp, too cold for such an early hour.

Megumi hated every bit of it. He had hated the plan last night, and he hated it even more now. He had spent the whole morning whining and dragging his feet, refusing to get ready. When Suguru tried to help him into the new clothes Satoru had bought, Megumi squirmed away, muttering loud complaints under his breath.

But no matter how hard he made a scene, Suguru didn’t give in. He just crouched down, buttoned Megumi’s shirt quietly, and said nothing. His calmness only made it worse. Megumi’s chest tightened when the driver knocked on the door. He begged one last time, just one more chance, but a moment later, he was sitting in the back seat of that car, the door closing with a dull and final thud.

The ride dragged on for hours. The windows were tinted, the view outside blurring into endless gray as the city faded into the quiet countryside. Megumi had always been used to being alone, but somehow, this felt different. Loneliness had never been so loud.

His only comfort sat in his lap: a small stuffed wolf, white and soft, with bright blue eyes. Satoru had bought it for him a few days ago. Megumi hadn’t said it aloud, but he thought the toy looked a little like Satoru; smug, sharp, but oddly reassuring. Maybe that was the reason why Megumi unconsciously picked it, to feel Satoru’s presence closer. He hugged it tighter, pressing the stuffed wolf against his chest to steady the uneven rhythm of his heartbeat.

By the time the car finally stopped, the sun was already high overhead. Heat shimmered off the gravel driveway as the gate behind him closed with a metallic clang. Megumi stared out the window at the massive estate beyond it.

He pressed his small hands against the glass, eyes wide as he took in the estate before him. It was a traditional Japanese mansion, sprawling yet elegant, with dark wooden beams, white plaster walls, and sweeping tiled roofs that curved gracefully at the edges.

The estate radiated a quiet majesty, a sense of order and history. The tall walls that enclosed it, made of stone and weathered timber, gave the impression of both protection and seclusion. Megumi’s chest tightened slightly, a mix of awe and nervous anticipation. He had never seen a place like this before, so beautiful, so vast, so... serious.

He climbed out of the car, clutching the duffel bag Suguru had helped him pack the night before. Inside were neatly folded clothes, a toothbrush, and his nightlight. Satoru had spent the whole night lecturing him about the Zenin clan: their rules, their hierarchy, their arrogance. “Just don’t talk back,” he had said, “and you’ll survive the week.”

Satoru and Suguru seemed so tense about it, so relentless in their preparations, like they were sending him somewhere dangerous. But Megumi hadn’t understood why. Sure, his father’s family might have been a bunch of jerks, but how bad could it really be?

At least, that was what he’d thought at first.

Oh, how wrong he was.

As soon as Megumi set foot inside the house, the maids descended on him like a quiet storm of motion and politeness. None of them met his eyes; they just bowed and ushered him down a long corridor lined with shoji doors and polished wooden floors that creaked faintly under their steps. His bag was quickly grabbed by one of them. Megumi didn’t even have the chance to protest.

He was ushered to go straight to a man named Naobito Zenin. The name wasn’t unfamiliar. Satoru had mentioned him once, calling him 'the old man who runs the clan.' Still, hearing the name was one thing; meeting him in person was another.

They led him past an open garden where a koi pond shimmered under the noon light, past manicured bonsai and smooth stone lanterns. Everything was neat, ordered, beautiful. Yet, there was something suffocating about it, like the air itself was judging him for being there.

Finally, they stopped in front of the last room at the end of the hall. The maid slid the door open, bowed deeply, and announced,

“Naobito-sama, Megumi-sama is here.”

Then she stepped aside, urging Megumi inside and closing the door. Megumi hesitated before stepping in. The room smelled faintly of tatami and old books. He spotted the man sitting at the far end, cross-legged in front of a low table, a small cup of sake in his hand. Megumi sat down where he thought he was supposed to, spine straight, eyes down. He could feel the man’s gaze on him, sharp and assessing, like he was something to be weighed and measured.

“Show me your face,” Naobito said, voice deep and slurred but heavy with command.

Megumi looked up reluctantly, forcing his expression to stay neutral.

“Come closer, child.”

Megumi obeyed, barely. Three steps forward and no more. The closer he got, the stronger the smell hit him. It was sour and stale, a mix of vinegar, smoke, and something bitter underneath. The stench made his stomach twist. It smells like him, Megumi realized, the thought flashing through his head before he could stop it. His father. The old man reeked of booze.

He should’ve guessed from the scattered bottles surrounding the low table, their labels glinting faintly in the dim light. The old man wasn’t just drinking; he was drenched in it. Megumi clenched his hands in his lap, resisting the urge to pinch his nose. But even his small restraint seemed to offend Naobito.

Without warning, the old man reached forward and grabbed his face, his grip iron-strong and rough. Megumi’s breath hitched, pain flaring in his jaw. He tried to pull back, but Naobito only tugged him closer, studying him like he was inspecting an object he might purchase.

Satoru’s voice echoed in his mind, “Don’t talk back. Don’t make a scene.”

Fine. But Satoru hadn’t said anything about not glaring. Megumi’s eyes narrowed, dark and sharp as knives. Then, with one swift motion, he slapped the man’s hand away and took a step back, rubbing his cheek where Naobito’s fingers had dug into the skin.

The old man only chuckled, a low, rasping sound that reeked of mockery. “Hah. You both are so similar,” he muttered.

Megumi said nothing. He didn’t know what the man meant, but he already hated the comparison.

Naobito smirked, picking up his cup and taking another lazy sip, as if nothing had happened.

Megumi just stood there, jaw tight and heart pounding. Megumi thought he had met his fair share of jerks before, but clearly, he hadn’t met this man.

“Naoya,” Naobito said suddenly, his voice sharp despite the slur that lingered beneath it. “Come inside. I know you’re listening.”

Megumi flinched when the sliding door behind him burst open with a sharp thud. He turned quickly, his pulse skipping.

Someone stood in the doorway, tall, though not nearly as tall as Satoru. His hair was an odd, brassy yellow, the dark roots showing where the dye had grown out. Three silver earrings lined his left ear, catching the light when he tilted his head. Despite his flashy appearance, or maybe because of it, Megumi instantly disliked him.

The man’s eyes narrowed as he studied Megumi; slow, assessing, cruelly amused. A grin stretched across his face, sharp and mean, like a hyena that had just found something small and helpless to toy with. Megumi felt a flicker of fear crawl down his spine.

Naoya’s gaze swept the boy from head to toe before shifting to Naobito. “What is it, Father?” he asked, his tone dripping with boredom.

Naobito poured himself another drink, barely looking up. “Bring Megumi to the training ground,” he said. “I want to start as soon as possible. I’m sure those hippies in Tokyo didn’t do shit to teach him his technique.”

The insult made Megumi’s jaw tighten. He wanted to snap back, to defend Satoru and Suguru, but instead, he bit his tongue.

Naoya sighed, long and exaggerated, before turning on his heel. “Tch. Fine.” 

Before Megumi could even get up properly, Naoya’s hand clamped around his arm, forcing him to his feet. His grip was firm, careless, the kind that didn’t care if it hurt. Megumi’s instinct was to pull away, but he didn’t. He just shot Naoya a glare as he was dragged toward the door.

>>><<<

They were standing inside a wide dojo. The polished wooden floor gleamed under the light, and the faint smell of sweat hung heavy in the air. A few men were already there. Some sparring in pairs, others leaning idly against the walls, watching. Their gazes turned toward Megumi as soon as he entered, quiet and assessing, like they were trying to measure his worth at a glance.

Megumi shifted uneasily, his palms cold despite the warmth in the room. He could feel their eyes on him, pricking against his skin.

Naoya stepped forward, stopping just a few paces away. “So, ya the brat Toji left behind, huh?” he drawled, his lips curling into that same cruel grin, “What’s yer name?”

Megumi froze. The way he said it, like Toji’s brat was an insult, something filthy, made his stomach twist. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat. There was something about Naoya’s presence that made it hard to breathe, a pressure, invisible but suffocating. It was like a prickling dread that told him he was in danger.

But before Megumi could even think, a sharp crack split the air. Pain exploded across his face. The force sent him sprawling to the floor. His vision tilted, colors blurring at the edges. For a moment, he didn’t even understand what had happened; just the sting, the ringing in his ears, the taste of iron blooming on his tongue.

Megumi blinked hard. His hand moved instinctively to his cheek. It burned; a raw, pulsing ache spreading from his jaw to his temple. A single drop of blood splattered on the floorboards. Then another. Then his tears joined them, silent and hot, tracing down his face before falling beside the red. All the people there just stood, watching with smiles as if what happened was some kind of comedy show.

“Oi, I asked ya a question, brat!”

Megumi’s voice came out thin, trembling despite his effort to hold it steady. “F–Fushiguro Megumi.”

Naoya laughed, the sound sharp and mocking. “Megumi, huh?” He tilted his head, smirking wider. “That’s a sorry name, ain't it? Well, whatever.” He stepped closer, his shadow falling over the boy. “I’m gonna have fun with ya.”

Megumi clenched his fists, trying to swallow the shaking in his hands. He didn’t know what Naoya meant, but his gut told him nothing good was coming next.

>>><<<

Megumi didn’t like this place. No. It was more than that. Megumi hated this place. It was only day three, and already he felt like he was going to drop dead any second now. Every day was the same, Naoya beating him down again and again until Megumi could barely stand. By the time he stumbled back to his room, he could hardly lift his arms.

When he finally got to lie on his futon, he had to do it carefully, inch by inch, because his body was a map of bruises. Purple and black blotches bloomed along his ribs and shoulders, each one throbbing like a live ember under his skin. If he shifted even a little the wrong way, white-hot pain would surge through him, sharp enough to take his breath away.

The maid always brought his dinner sometime after training, setting the tray down wordlessly before slipping away. The food looked good: warm rice, grilled fish, and miso soup. But Megumi could never bring himself to eat. His stomach twisted at the sight of it. He was hungry, but the thought of swallowing made him sick. Every part of him just felt… tired.

It’ll be only for a week.

From the moment this hell began, he clung to those words like a lifeline. Suguru’s voice echoed faintly in his mind, soft and steady. It’ll be only for a week. He repeated it again and again, like a mantra, like a lullaby. If he just endured, it would all be over soon.

Megumi had to be strong. He told himself that over and over, too. If he messed up here, Satoru and Suguru might get in trouble. And he couldn’t let that happen. Satoru had said that he was strong and that he was talented. But lying there, aching and broken, Megumi wasn’t so sure anymore.

No matter how hard he tried to ignore the bruises, the pain always found a way to crawl back up from beneath his skin, spreading like fire until it swallowed him whole. His body throbbed. His chest felt tight.

He wanted to go home. But all he could do was stare at the ceiling, clutching his stuffed wolf tighter, tears sliding silently down his temples as he whispered the same promise to himself.

Just a few more days.

>>><<<

Morning came far too slowly for Megumi’s liking. He wasn’t sure how much sleep he had gotten, but it definitely wasn’t enough. With heavy steps, he dragged himself to the bathroom to wash up. Ever since he arrived at this place, he had been forced to wear nothing but the yukata they provided for him. It felt like a quiet kind of torture, soft fabric that still managed to make him feel trapped.

As usual, his bedroom door opened with a soft click, signaling breakfast time. But this morning, it wasn’t the maid who came in.

“Hi there.”

A voice, bright and unfamiliar, made him turn. Standing in the doorway were two little girls, one was holding a tray of food. They looked similar, maybe even twins, though one had slightly lighter green hair than the other. Both of them watched him with wide, curious eyes.

Megumi stiffened immediately. He didn’t know who they were, but the fact that they belonged to this place was enough to make him cautious.

“You’re Megumi, right?” One of the girls said.

He stayed silent, eyeing them carefully.

“I’m Maki,” said the girl with lighter green hair. “And this is Mai.” She gestured to the one half-hiding behind her. “We asked if we could bring your breakfast because we wanted to meet you,” Maki continued with an easy grin.

Megumi said nothing.

“Why’s he not talking?” Mai whispered loudly.

“Maybe he’s mute. Or deaf,” Maki replied, just as loud.

Megumi’s face scrunched up. “I can talk! And I can hear you!” he blurted, cheeks puffing slightly in annoyance.

Maki grinned at him. “Good, then.” She set the meal tray down neatly on the table. “Here you go!”

Megumi stared at the food in silence, his lips twisting. He wasn’t in the mood to eat. The sight of the meal just made his chest tighten.

“You should eat,” Maki said, folding her arms. “You look thinner than when you first came here.” Mai, standing shyly behind her sister, nodded in agreement.

Megumi blinked, a little confused by the comment.

“We saw you,” Mai said quietly, “when you were in the dojo with Naoya.”

At that, Megumi’s body stiffened. He looked away, shame washing over his face. Without thinking, he hid his bruised hands behind his back. The room fell silent for a moment, heavy and awkward.

Then Maki spoke again, softer this time. “I’m sure you’re hungry, right? We saw your dinner tray last night. You didn’t touch it.”

Megumi shook his head. “I’m not hungry,” he muttered. “I’m just gonna go to the dojo.”

“You don’t need to,” Maki said quickly. “Naoya would be busy with missions all week. I heard them talk about it. You don’t have to train right now.”

Megumi’s head snapped up, eyes widening. “Naoya’s… gone?”

Both sisters smiled and nodded.

For a moment, Megumi just stared. Then, slowly, his knees gave out, and he dropped to the floor. The twins hurried to his side, alarmed.

“I’m hungry,” he said at last, voice small but clear.

.

.

The three of them ended up sitting by the koi pond near the maids’ quarters, far enough from the main house that no one would bother them. The morning light shimmered over the water, and the soft sound of ripples filled the air.

It turned out that Maki and Mai were Megumi’s aunties! When they told him, he couldn’t help but giggle. It was ridiculous, having an aunt barely a year older than him.

“So, is it true then?” Maki leaned forward, curiosity lighting her eyes. “They said you’ve got the ancient technique.”

Megumi shrugged. “I guess. I mean, that’s what Satoru told me too.”

“Who’s Satoru?” Mai asked, tilting her head.

Megumi went quiet. Who was Satoru, really? He wasn’t his brother, or his father, or even family by blood. And yet… the thought of him made something in Megumi’s chest bubble, a familiar, steady warmth that always reminded him of home. Satoru and Suguru both.

Finally, Megumi answered, his voice soft but sure. “Satoru’s the one who takes care of me.”

“Okay, okay. But aren’t you scared, Megumi?” Maki asked, leaning closer.

“Why would I be scared of Satoru?” he asked back, frowning.

“Not Satoru, you silly,” Maki rolled her eyes. “I mean your technique! My parents said you can summon beasts. Doesn’t that freak you out?” Mai nodded beside her, eyes wide with curiosity.

Megumi hummed thoughtfully. “I guess they are beasts… but they’re nice. Suguru even said they’re cute!” he said, his face lighting up.

“They’re cute?” Maki asked, skeptical. “Who’s Suguru?” Mai chimed in at the same time.

Megumi puffed up his cheeks a bit, smiling bashfully. “Suguru is also the one who takes care of me,” he explained, then added proudly, “And for the beasts…” He pressed his palms together and focused.

His shadow rippled beneath him like dark water, and from that darkness, two large shapes emerged. A pair of enormous, sleek dogs rose up, one white and one black, their fur shimmering faintly, like mist under sunlight. They wagged their tails the moment they saw Megumi and lunged forward, licking his cheeks enthusiastically.

“Ah! Kuro! Shiro! Stop!” Megumi laughed, pushing them away gently. He wiped his cheek, smiling despite himself. “This is Kuro and Shiro,” he said proudly, looking to the twins.

Mai gasped, eyes sparkling as she crouched down. “They’re so big… and fluffy!” She hesitated at first, but when Shiro leaned his head toward her hand, she let out a small giggle and started petting him.

Megumi’s chest warmed at the sight. But as he turned to Maki, he noticed her expression was strangely blank. She was staring at the spot where the dogs were, but her eyes didn’t focus.

“You can pet them,” Megumi encouraged gently. “They won’t hurt you.”

Maki bit her lip, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face.

“Maki can’t see curses,” Mai said quietly, still stroking Shiro’s fur that shimmered in her hand.

Megumi tilted his head, puzzled. “Can’t see curses? Why not?”

“It’s because I don’t have any cursed energy,” Maki said simply, her voice neutral, though her eyes betrayed a shadow of something heavier.

Megumi blinked. No cursed energy? Was that even possible? He thought back to Satoru’s lessons about sorcerers and non-sorcerers. Sorcerers could control and contain their cursed energy, using it for techniques and exorcisms. Non-sorcerers, on the other hand, couldn’t even see curses, much less control them. But even then, non-sorcerers did have cursed energy. And now that he thought about it, Maki’s presence felt quiet, like a still lake without any ripples of cursed energy.

“They’re so cute!” Mai said suddenly, her laughter echoing across the koi pond. “I can’t believe Papa and Mama called them monsters.”

Her voice pulled Megumi out of his thoughts. But when he looked at Maki again, he saw her shoulders slumped slightly, her eyes cast down.

“Is there any way for you to see curses?” he asked softly.

Mai looked thoughtful, then furrowed her brow. Maki tried to wave it off. “It’s fine, Megumi. Really. You don’t have to—”

“I got it!” Mai suddenly shouted, jumping up so fast that both of them were startled.

Megumi blinked, and Maki’s eyes widened. “What?” they asked in unison.

“The cursed mirror, Maki! Remember? You might be able to see Megumi’s dogs through it!”

Maki gasped, her face lighting up with excitement. “You’re right! Maybe I can! That mirror actually let me see a curse once!”

“What mirror?” Megumi asked, curiosity bursting through him.

“It’s in the cursed tools room,” Mai explained eagerly. “Maki and I sneaked in there once, and when she looked into the mirror, she said she saw something scary behind her that I knew was curses!”

Megumi’s eyes widened. “So if I summon the dogs in front of the mirror…”

“Then I could see them!” Maki finished, grinning.

The three of them exchanged a look, that silent agreement only kids could have. And then they scrambled to their feet, giggling.

“Let’s go before anyone sees us,” Maki whispered, tugging Megumi’s sleeve.

They tiptoed along the side corridors, past the gardens, and toward the forbidden section of the compound. Their feet made soft slapping sounds against the floor. Every time they heard footsteps, they ducked behind pillars or bushes, holding in their laughter.

When they finally reached the door of the cursed tools room, Megumi’s heart was pounding from both the thrill and the fear of getting caught. The air around the door felt heavier, colder, as if something was watching them from the other side.

Maki looked left and right and whispered, “It’s clear.”

Mai carefully pushed the door open, and a faint creak echoed down the hall. Inside, the air smelled like dust and metal. Rows of shelves lined the room, filled with strange weapons and trinkets that seemed to hum faintly with energy.

And at the far end of the room stood a tall mirror, framed with dark, polished wood etched in faint runes. The mirror was covered with cloth, probably so it wouldn’t get dust on it.

“There it is,” Maki whispered, her eyes gleaming.

Megumi nodded, feeling his pulse quicken. “Okay… let’s see if it works.”

They stepped closer to the mirror, excitement bubbling in their stomach. However, before Megumi could even form his hands together, a sudden voice echoed from behind them, sharp and cold. 

“What're ya doin' in here?”

The three of them froze. When they turned, Naoya stood in the doorway, his scowl dark and dangerous. The faint light from the corridor outlined his figure, making his presence feel even more suffocating. Mai instantly shrank behind Maki, clutching the back of her sister’s yukata, trembling.

“We’re just playing,” Maki said quickly, though her voice shook. She tried to sound confident, but her eyes betrayed her fear.

“Playing, huh?” Naoya arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms slowly. His tone dripped with disdain. “What makes ya think ya can play in here, huh?” His voice grew sharper with every word, his expression twisting with irritation. 

Megumi’s stomach churned, his hands curling into fists at his sides to stop the trembling.

“We just got lost!” Maki tried again, pushing Mai gently behind her as she spoke. “We didn’t mean to—”

“Lies!” Naoya’s voice cracked through the air like a whip. “This room's forbidden. You, of all people, ought to know better, Maki. There'll be repercussions for this.”

Maki’s lips parted, but no sound came out. She only turned slightly to shield Mai, her arms tightening protectively around her sister. The silence that followed was heavy and cold.

Megumi’s heart pounded painfully in his chest. His throat burned as panic crawled up his spine, but before he could stop himself, the words burst out. “It’s my idea!” he blurted. “I told them to bring me here!”

Naoya’s gaze snapped to him, his expression darkening before curling into a slow, mocking grin. “Is that so?” he drawled. Then, glancing toward the door, he barked, “You, by the door.”

A maid appeared almost instantly, bowing her head. “Yes, Naoya-sama.”

“Get these brats outta here,” he ordered curtly.

“Yes, Naoya-sama.” The maid hurried forward and ushered the three children toward the door. But just as Megumi took a step forward, Naoya’s hand shot out, gripping his arm tightly.

“Just take those two,” he said without looking away from Megumi.

Maki’s eyes widened. “Wait!” she started, but the maid had already pulled her and Mai out of the room. The heavy door closed behind them with a dull thud, sealing Megumi inside with Naoya.

The air felt colder now. Dust floated in the faint slivers of light coming through the window.

“So,” Naoya began, his tone deceptively calm as he stepped closer. “Tell me somethin', Megumi. I’ve been disciplinin' ya since the day ya arrived, and yet…” His smile turned cruel. “…ya remain such a disobedient brat.”

Megumi didn’t answer. His pulse raced, but he kept his gaze low, knowing that looking up would only make things worse.

Naoya clicked his tongue. “Nothin' to say?” He scoffed, voice dropping into a low, dangerous murmur. “Seems like I’ll have to remind ya of yer place again.”

Megumi’s instincts screamed at him to run, but he forced himself still. He knew what was coming. Naoya’s “discipline” always meant pain. But if he fled, Maki and Mai would suffer for it. His small hands clenched tighter. His heart trembled, yet… something in him refused to break.

For the first time since he arrived, Megumi didn’t want to cower. He wanted to be strong, strong enough to protect Maki and Mai, just like Satoru had protected him and Suguru. So, Megumi stood his ground, lifting his chin ever so slightly, waiting for Naoya to hit him, slap him, kick him, whatever it was going to be, Megumi was ready.

But instead…

Naoya moved before Megumi could even flinch. In one swift, brutal motion, he seized the boy and hoisted him off the ground. Megumi’s breath hitched, his feet dangling helplessly in the air before Naoya slammed him down onto the table nearby. The wood rattled under the impact, the sound echoing sharply through the empty room.

Megumi let out a pained groan as the back of his head struck the hard surface. A dull ache pulsed through his skull, and for a brief moment, the world blurred and dimmed around him. His small hands reached out instinctively, gripping the edge of the table as if to steady himself.

Then, suddenly, the light vanished. Naoya’s shadow fell over him, cutting off the faint glow from the window. When Megumi’s vision cleared, all he could see was Naoya’s face hovering above him, twisted into a grin that sent a cold shiver down his spine.

“Pathetic,” Naoya hissed, his voice low and mocking.

Megumi’s chest tightened. The air felt heavy, suffocating. Every instinct screamed for him to fight, to escape, but his limbs wouldn’t move. Naoya’s presence was overwhelming; his sharp gaze, his cruel smirk, the sheer malice radiating from him. It made Megumi’s stomach churn.

Tears welled up in his eyes before Megumi could stop them. He bit his lip, trying to hold them back, but they spilled anyway. His throat trembled as he tried to speak, but no sound came out.

He was scared. More scared than he had ever been. And as Naoya loomed closer, his laughter low and menacing, all Megumi could do was cry quietly, the sound barely audible beneath the suffocating silence of the room.

Naoya’s gaze swept over Megumi, his expression twisting into something cruelly amused. “Megumi, huh?” Naoya spoke to himself. “I thought it was ridiculous for ya to have a female’s name…But maybe, that suits ya after all.” A grin crept out from him. “Now, be a good girl for me, would ya, Megumi?”

Then, Naoya ran his tongue on Megumi’s small face, licking the tears the boy had shed there. Megumi was shocked, eyes wide and breath hitched. He didn’t understand what had happened or why it happened. But Megumi felt absolutely disgusted.

He turned his face to the side, trying his best to dodge Naoya’s touch. “Fuck off!!” Megumi yelled at him, his promises to Satoru not to cuss thrown out of the window.

Naoya was pissed instantly. He grabbed Megumi’s chin, forcing the boy to look up at him. His fingers dug in hard enough to sting, and Megumi could see his reflection in the man’s cold, terrifying eyes.

“Ya think just because that Gojo bastard is lookin' after ya, yer something special?” Naoya hissed. His tone was low and venomous. “Yer nothing! Just another mistake this clan has to deal with.”

Megumi tried not to flinch, but the effort only made his jaw tremble. Naoya’s smile widened at that.

“Pathetic,” he muttered again, “Ya can’t even swear at me without shakin'.”

“I’m not scared,” Megumi managed to whisper, even though his voice cracked halfway through.

Naoya laughed; a short, sharp sound that echoed in the empty room. “Not scared? Yer shakin' like a leaf.” He leaned closer again, his shadow swallowing the small figure beneath him. “Let’s see how long that bravery lasts.”

.

.

Suddenly, the door slammed open with a loud bang, echoing sharply through the dusty room. Naoya froze mid-movement as Naobito Zenin stepped inside, his presence alone heavy enough to crush the air around them. His expression was dark, eyes narrowed with fury and authority.

“What do you think you’re doing, boy?” Naobito’s voice was calm, but there was venom beneath every word, controlled anger that made it all the more terrifying.

Naoya straightened and leaned back casually against the table, feigning nonchalance though his shoulders tensed. “I’m just playin' with my nephew here, Father,” he said with a mock grin. “Can’t ya see?”

Naobito’s jaw twitched. “Playing?” His voice dropped lower, more dangerous. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

Each step Naobito took forward made Naoya shrink just slightly, his earlier arrogance faltering.

“Gojo Satoru and Jujutsu High still have temporary custody of that boy,” Naobito said, his tone laced with contempt. “If you pull a stunt like this now, they’ll know, and we’ll lose any chance of securing the Zenin name over him.” Naobito stopped just a few feet away, his shadow falling over Naoya. “For once in your life, use that brain of yours, stupid boy.”

Naobito’s tone was low, almost calm again, but his gaze was like a blade pressed to Naoya’s throat. Even Naoya, ever so smug, didn’t dare talk back.

Behind them, Megumi sat still on the table, small hands trembling on his lap. The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating.

“Go to your room, little one,” Naobito said, his voice still carrying the weight of command.

Megumi froze for a heartbeat, staring up at the older man. His knees trembled, but he nodded quickly, scrambling down from the table. His small feet hit the wooden floor with a dull thud, and without daring to look back, he bolted out of the room.

He ran past the hallways, past the empty dojo, past the eyes of maids who whispered quietly to each other as he sped by. His heart was pounding so loud it drowned out everything else. The corridors blurred together until he finally reached his room and slammed the door shut behind him.

The moment he was inside, all the strength left his body. Megumi stumbled toward his bed, crawled under the blanket, and pulled it over his head. He reached blindly for his white stuffed wolf, the Satoru Wolf. Its fur was soft against his fingers, the blue glass eyes glinting faintly in the dim light. Megumi clutched it to his chest. He tried to be quiet, but his throat tightened painfully, and a choked sob escaped. Then another. His tears soaked into the fur as he pressed his face against it.

“I want to go home…” he whispered into the silence, voice breaking.

But there was no answer, only the sound of his own quiet crying, muffled beneath the blanket, as the world outside his door kept moving without him.

.

.

.

Chapter Text

>>><<<

Satoru had been waiting for twenty minutes now. The sun hung high above the Zenin estate, throwing long shadows across the gravel path. The place was as grand and suffocating as ever. 

He leaned against the black car parked by the gate, hands stuffed in his pockets, one foot tapping impatiently. Satoru could feel eyes on him from the second he arrived, the kind of silent gaze that made his skin itch.

Today was Monday, the day he was supposed to pick up Megumi from the Zenins’ place. One week, just one miserable week, and yet it had felt far too long. 

It had been rough for both him and Suguru. A week ago, just when things were finally starting to settle down, Satoru was hit with news that made him want to blast a hole through a wall. Naobito Zenin had formally requested custody over Megumi.

He remembered standing in Yaga’s office after the meeting with higher-ups, staring at his teacher in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? That old fossil wants custody?”

But Yaga’s expression had been grave. “I’m afraid not. They found out about the Ten Shadows Technique. The Zenin clan considers it their blood right.”

Satoru had stormed out of the room without another word. He didn’t even remember the walk back to the apartment, only the weight in his chest and the faint ringing in his ears. All he knew was that he had to tell Suguru.

“They said they’re his family, Suguru,” Satoru had said, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I don’t care!” Suguru’s voice had risen, sharp and angry. “I’m not sending Megumi all the way to Kyoto just to meet up with some old man! They didn’t even give a damn about him until they heard about the Ten Shadows technique! It’s obvious those people only want him for his power!”

Suguru had paced back and forth, his hands clenched into fists. “I don’t like this, Satoru! Can’t you do something about it?”

Satoru had exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. He hated seeing Suguru like that, furious, helpless. But the truth was, he felt the same.

“Look, Suguru. I don’t like this either,” he said quietly. “Yaga and I are handling it now, but until then, there’s nothing we can do. The Zenins are his immediate family. Legally, we can’t stop them from seeing him.”

Suguru had stopped pacing, turning to glare at him. “So what? We’re just gonna send him into a lion’s den and wish him good luck?”

Satoru hadn’t answered then. Because as much as he wanted to deny it, Suguru was right.

Now, standing at the Zenin gates, the silence was grating. The longer he waited, the more his impatience gave way to unease. He tilted his head back, squinting toward the main house.

‘What’s taking them so damn long?’

He crossed his arms, jaw tightening. When the maid finally appeared at the gate with Megumi in tow, Satoru felt his chest loosen. The sight of the boy standing there, alive and breathing, brought a flicker of relief. But it vanished as quickly as it came.

Megumi looked awful. His eyes were tired and puffy, his hair messy, and there were dark patches along his arms where the sleeves didn’t cover. Even from a distance, Satoru could tell they weren’t dirt.

The moment Megumi climbed into the car, he slumped against the seat and was out cold before the engine even started. The kid must’ve been exhausted. Satoru didn’t say a word, didn’t dare wake him. 

A strip of sunlight fell across Megumi’s lap, catching the faint sheen of bruises scattered up and down his arms. Some were old, yellow, and fading. But others were fresh, an ugly mix of purple and red. When the car hit a bump, Megumi flinched even in his sleep. Satoru’s jaw tightened. His teeth ground together until it hurt.

‘Those vile bastards.’

They hadn’t even patched him up. Just handed him back like broken property, like they wanted to prove a point, ‘this is what happens when you cross the Zenin clan.’

Satoru wanted to storm back there and turn that damn compound upside down. But he couldn’t. He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus. This wasn’t about his anger. This was about Megumi.

But most importantly, Suguru couldn’t see the boy like this. Not immediately. He would lose it, and honestly, Satoru wasn’t sure he would be able to stop him. He reached into his pants, pulled out his phone, and tapped Shoko’s number. She picked up on the third ring.

“Hey,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “You in school right now?”

“Yes.” Her tone was clipped, distracted.

“I need help,” he said.

There was a pause. “With what?”

“I’ll explain later. You in the lab?”

“I’ll be in the lab until five.”

“Perfect.” He hung up before she could ask more.

Satoru looked at Megumi again. The kid was still asleep, his small hand clutching the stuffed wolf Satoru had given him before the trip. Seeing that made something twist painfully inside his chest. He let out a slow, quiet sigh and muttered under his breath,

“Hang in there, kiddo. We’re going home soon.”

>>><<<

Suguru sighed as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. He had been restless all day, unable to shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at his chest. Satoru was off to pick up Megumi, and Suguru had been forced to skip the trip because of an early mission. He had texted Satoru earlier, asking if he had already gotten the kid, but there was still no reply.

He exhaled through his nose, trying to brush it off. ‘Oh well. Whatever it is, Satoru must’ve picked him up by now.’ The thought brought him a sliver of relief, though it did little to ease the tension sitting behind his ribs.

Suguru’s mind wandered to the time when they sat together that evening on the couch. Suguru could still remember how his heart was pounding, loud and fast. His face burned as the realization of what had almost happened sank in. When Satoru had leaned in that close, Suguru’s mind had gone blank, no jokes, no calm composure, just the sound of his heartbeat and the faint scent of Satoru’s cologne. 

The memory made Suguru flustered all over again. He tapped his cheeks lightly, trying to force himself back into control, willing the heat to retreat from his face. But even as he did, a small part of him couldn’t deny how alive the memory made him feel, how much it had left an impression, lingering long after that brief moment.

Shaking off the lingering flush of the memory, Suguru realized he needed a distraction, perhaps a way to ground himself. His mind settled on Shoko. It had been a while since they had really talked, just the two of them, and he felt the quiet pull of curiosity mixed with the need for some familiar company. Plus, he missed Shoko.

With a quiet sigh, he made up his mind. Visiting Shoko might help him think, or at least give him a reason to focus on something other than the heat still lingering in his cheeks. 

.

.

“Shoko?” Suguru called as he pushed open the lab door, the sterile scent of disinfectant greeting him.

“In here!” Shoko’s voice echoed from behind a cluttered desk. “What’s up?”

“Are you busy?” 

“I’m trying not to be! Why? What do you want?” she replied, barely looking up from the papers she was sorting.

“Nothing. Just wondering if you want to grab coffee with me,” Suguru said, leaning casually against the desk.

“Oh! A date?” Shoko teased, one eyebrow arched in amusement.

“Sure, doc. Whatever you wanna call it. After all, I owe you for keeping me alive,” he said with an easy grin, rolling his eyes.

Shoko chuckled and stood, grabbing her jacket. “Well, I actually had an appointment, but since you’re being so generous, and I’ve been craving that expensive latte, lead the way.”

They had barely stepped out into the corridor when a familiar figure came into view. Satoru was standing there, a small boy cradled in his arms. Megumi was awake but clearly exhausted, his eyelids drooping, a tiny yawn escaping as his head rested against Satoru’s shoulder.

Suguru’s expression softened instantly. “Satoru? You’re back with Megumi already? What are you doing here?”

Satoru blinked, looking almost startled. “It’s–uh–it’s nothing. I just needed to see Shoko for a bit before dropping him off.” His words stumbled out, uncharacteristically uncertain.

Suguru frowned slightly. “Why? You okay? Did you hurt yourself?”

“No, no. I’m fine,” Satoru said quickly, a little too quickly.

“Opps– “ Shoko palmed her forehead, brows furrowed as she pouted a bit. “Is it about earlier? You said you needed my help with something.” Shoko jumped in.

Hearing that, Suguru just shrugged. “Well, if you wanted to talk with Shoko, I can take Megumi home. We were just heading out for coffee anyway.” Suguru took a step closer, extending his arms toward the boy.

That was when he saw it. The faint purple bruises mottling Megumi’s small arms. Clear and unmistakable. The smile on Suguru’s face faltered, vanishing completely as his stomach sank. He leaned closer, gently taking Megumi’s hand in his own. 

“...What is this?” Suguru’s voice dropped low, sharp and tight with restraint. The air between them seemed to thicken. Megumi flinched under the weight of his tone, his small fingers curling against Suguru’s palm.

When the boy didn’t answer, Suguru’s eyes lifted to meet Satoru’s. His voice hardened, each word deliberate.

“Satoru. What. Is. This?”

The hallway fell silent. Even Shoko’s usual remarks died on her tongue as her gaze flicked between the two teens.

Satoru’s shoulders slumped as he let out a long, weary sigh. “Shoko,” he murmured, his voice low, “can you take Megumi with you?”

Shoko didn’t ask questions. Her gaze faltered before she walked towards him and gently reached out and took the boy from Satoru’s arms. Megumi didn’t protest and just clung weakly to her jacket, his small face half-buried in her shoulder. Without another word, Shoko turned and disappeared back into the lab, the door clicking shut behind her.

Silence settled in the hallway.

Satoru dragged a hand down his face, exhaling shakily. “Look, I don’t know what happened, Suguru,” he began, his tone quieter than usual, almost careful. “The kid was already like this when I picked him up.”

Suguru’s expression darkened. “What do you mean you don’t know what happened?” His voice was sharp now, laced with disbelief. “He was clearly beaten up, Satoru. Can’t you see that?”

Suguru took a step forward, his jaw tight, anger crackling in his voice. “I didn’t want to send him there in the first place, but you told me ‘everything’s gonna be okay.’ Those were your words, Satoru. And now look at him!”

“I know, Suguru.” Satoru’s tone cracked slightly. “I know. I’m angry too, alright? I want to punch those bastards myself, believe me.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The fluorescent light above flickered faintly, casting a sterile pallor over the tension between them.

Suguru let out a short, incredulous gasp, his hand dragging through his hair. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered, his voice shaking with a mix of fury and helplessness. “So all week… all this time, they’ve been beating Megumi up?”

Satoru didn’t answer immediately. His expression became more and more depressed.

“I won’t let them do this again.” Suguru’s voice cut through the air, low and firm, trembling with barely restrained anger. His fists were clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. “I’m not gonna let Megumi set foot in that terrible place ever again.”

“Suguru…” Satoru began cautiously, his tone almost pleading. “You know we can’t simply do that. This was the agreement. Megumi stays with us as long as they get him for one week every month.”

“I don’t give a damn what they want,” Suguru snapped, his voice rising. “Megumi’s not going back there! I’m not handing him over to those monsters again.”

Satoru let out a long, tired sigh. His expression was tight, pained. “Suguru, I understand how you feel,” he said quietly. “But this is the Zenin clan we’re talking about. You know what they’re capable of.” His voice lowered even further, eyes shadowed. “It’s going to be hell to deal with them. This is the best compromise I could manage.”

Suguru stared at him in disbelief. “Compromise?” The word came out like venom. “You call letting them lay a hand on him a compromise?”

Satoru’s jaw tightened. “You think I wanted this?” he shot back, frustration breaking through his calm facade. “You think I like seeing him like that?”

But Suguru wasn’t listening anymore. He took a step closer, his eyes burning with anger and something deeper, hurt. “You promised me he’d be safe, Satoru. You said you’d handle it.” His voice cracked slightly, the rage thinning into anguish. “And now look at him. He’s covered in bruises because of that damn clan you keep making deals with.”

The tension between them was palpable, thick as smoke. Satoru’s hands curled into fists at his sides, his voice raised, “You think I don’t blame myself?”

Satoru’s jaw tightened. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just stared at the floor, his bangs shadowing his eyes. The silence stretched, heavy with guilt and tension.

Then Satoru exhaled, slow and trembling. “You think I like standing here, knowing they laid a hand on him while I was out there doing nothing?” His voice was low, raw.

Suguru said nothing. His glare softened only slightly, but he stayed quiet, waiting. The admission hung in the air like a knife. Suguru’s breath hitched. For a moment, all the anger drained from his face, replaced by something that looked painfully close to heartbreak.

Satoru’s voice cracked when he spoke again. “If it were up to me, I would burn that damn clan to the ground. But I can’t. Not now. You know how the higher-ups are. They’ll side with the Zenins before they even hear us out. If we break the agreement, they’ll only take Megumi away completely.”

Suguru’s throat went dry. “You think they wouldn’t do that anyway?”

“They haven’t yet,” Satoru shot back, desperation edging his tone. “As long as I keep my words, they stay out of our business. That’s the only reason Megumi’s still with us.”

Suguru took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “And what’s the point if he comes back bruised every month? You call that protection?”

“I’m trying to keep us together,” Satoru snapped, his voice breaking through the restraint again. “Do you think this is easy for me?”

​​Suguru flinched slightly, taken aback by the sheer force in Satoru’s tone. The white-haired teen looked furious; eyes wild, jaw tight, the faint tremor in his shoulders.

“I’m trying to protect him the only way I can!” Satoru shouted, his voice cracking on the last word. “If we fight the Zenins head-on, Megumi’s the one who’ll pay the price, you know that!”

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. Before either of them could react, the lab door burst open.

“Megumi!” Shoko’s voice followed immediately after as the boy stumbled out, breathing hard. His small frame trembled with each gasp, eyes wide and glassy. Shoko appeared right behind him, looking startled and out of breath herself.

“Megumi?” Suguru’s brows furrowed. “What’s going on?” he asked, turning to Shoko.

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “He just stood up and bolted.”

Suguru’s chest tightened. He stepped closer, crouching down until he was eye level with the boy. “Hey,” he said gently, his tone softening. “Megumi, it’s okay. Go back inside, yeah? Shoko will heal you so your bruises don’t hurt anymore.”

Megumi shook his head quickly, his messy hair falling into his eyes. “I’m fine,” he said. His voice was small but firm.

“What?” Suguru blinked, confused.

“I’m fine,” Megumi repeated, louder this time. His lower lip trembled, but his eyes stayed fixed on the ground. “It’s nothing, so you don’t need to worry.”

Suguru furrowed his brows. “Megumi–”

“I’m okay,” the boy insisted, his voice cracking. Then, with a desperation that silenced both Suguru and Satoru, he looked up. His eyes shimmered with tears he refused to let fall. “The bruises don’t hurt. So please…” He swallowed hard, his small hands curling into fists. “Please don’t fight.”

The hallway fell quiet again, so quiet that they could hear Megumi’s uneven breathing.

Suguru let out a shallow breath and reached out, his hand gently brushing through Megumi’s hair. The boy flinched at first, then leaned into the touch, his shoulders trembling.

“Hey,” Suguru murmured softly. “It’s okay.”

Without another word, he carefully lifted Megumi off the ground. The boy was lighter, and Suguru felt a sting of guilt twist deeper in his chest as Megumi instinctively clung to his shirt, his small fingers clutching the fabric near Suguru’s collarbone.

Suguru stood there for a moment, holding him close, before turning toward Satoru. He didn’t meet his eyes, didn’t want to. 

“I’m gonna stay with Megumi while Shoko checks on him,” his tone calm but distant. “You should go and get some rest.”

Satoru opened his mouth as if to respond, but Suguru didn’t wait for an answer. He simply tightened his hold on Megumi and turned toward the lab. The boy’s head rested against his shoulder, his breathing still unsteady but starting to slow. 

As Suguru stepped through the doorway, the harsh fluorescent lights softened against his back, leaving Satoru standing alone in the empty hallway.

>>><<<

Satoru was on the verge of losing his sanity. Suguru had been giving him the cold shoulder for days. A part of him couldn’t blame the raven-haired teen. He had been useless for them, helpless in moments that mattered, unable to protect or guide when it was needed most. That nagging guilt pressed into his chest harder than Suguru’s stubbornness ever could.

And then there was Megumi. The boy was living with them in the dorm now, small and very much aware of the tension simmering between the older two. Satoru ran a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. 

He felt trapped between Suguru’s anger, Megumi’s safety, and the Zenins’ constant pressure. It left him desperate and painfully aware of just how much he cared, and how much he had yet to prove.

Satoru sat opposite Yaga, shoulders tense, the office’s low light highlighting his teacher’s anxious face. Shelves of binders and mission reports loomed behind Yaga. Outside, the late-afternoon sky had gone the color of worn steel.

“Well, as we predicted,” Yaga said, voice flat. “The Zenins claimed the boy wouldn’t get a proper education with this arrangement, so they went back to their first decision. They demanded full custody of Megumi.”

Satoru let out a sound that was almost a laugh and almost a curse. “Those assholes.” The words slipped between his teeth.

Yaga didn’t flinch. “Satoru, we need to think fast. The higher-ups are going to have a meeting to discuss this, and by then, you have to come up with a decision.”

“Oh, really,” Satoru scoffed. “Can’t I just tell them to fuck off and get it over with?” He said sarcastically.

Yaga folded his hands, brows furrowed. “Acting on impulse will get you nothing but headlines and give them every reason to remove him entirely. You can’t let anger be the only thing driving your action.”

“Don’t you think I know that!” Satoru snapped back, “But I’m tired of letting them dictate what’s best for the kid without even giving me the chance to plead my case! Megumi got back covered in bruises! Do you think I can just move on without giving them a piece of my mind?”

Yaga nodded; his eyes were steady on him. “I understand. But there’s a line between making a stand and handing them the perfect excuse to take the boy away permanently. The Zenins are not to be taken lightly. If you march in unprepared, the higher-ups would definitely side with them!”

Satoru slammed his fist on the desk. The sound cracked through the air, but he remained quiet.

“We need leverage,” Yaga said finally, voice low but firm.

“I know.” Satoru’s voice had dropped low again, though the frustration still pulsed beneath every word. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed somewhere past Yaga’s shoulder.

“They won’t listen to me, though,” he muttered. “Not them. Not the higher-ups.” He let out a sharp breath and shook his head. “To them, I’m still just a kid playing at being an adult.”

Yaga raised an eyebrow. “You’re still a Gojo, Satoru. That name carries weight. And if you want my point of view, you are not the same person as you thought you were.” 

Yaga paused for a bit, letting out a sigh before he leaned back in his chair. “You’ve grown, Satoru. Probably too quick for someone your age. And as much as I despise that idea, there’s someone who needs you to step up for him right now.”

Satoru’s laugh came out sharp and hollow, but not mocking. “You don’t get it, Yaga,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not even eighteen yet. I can’t legally challenge anything they decide. Not custody, not guardianship, nothing.” He pressed his palms against his knees, fingers curling into tight fists. “By the time I’m old enough to stand on my own in court, the Zenins could’ve already taken him. Hell, they will.”

Yaga’s frown deepened. “You think they would move that fast?”

“I know they would,” Satoru bit out, his voice rising with every word. “They’ve been waiting for an excuse since day one. The moment they sense a gap, they’ll swoop in and claim him under some bullshit excuse like ‘proper family care.’” 

Yaga was quiet, his gaze heavy but understanding.

Satoru’s voice cracked as he went on. “They think I’m some naive kid playing hero… Maybe they’re right… But I can’t just–” He stopped, his breath catching as his jaw tightened. “I can’t give up, Yaga. Not after everything.”

Yaga let out a long sigh. “You’re not alone in this, Satoru.” He said simply. 

Satoru’s eyes flicked up, tired and skeptical. “Yeah, sure, old man..”

Yaga shook his head. “You’ve got me and your friends. And you’ve got Suguru.” His voice softened, steady and grounding in a way that only Yaga could manage. “You don’t have to carry this by yourself. You shouldn’t.”

Satoru huffed out a bitter laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “About Suguru…We’re not exactly on speaking terms right now.”

“I know,” Yaga said. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s still here. He’s angry because he cares, because he’s just as desperate to protect that boy as you are.”

Satoru looked away, jaw tightening. The words hit harder than he wanted to admit. “I know he is,” he muttered. “But it’s like everything I do just makes it worse.”

Yaga’s gaze softened. “You’re both trying to save the same person, Satoru. You just have different ways of doing it. Don’t shut him out now, not when you need him most.”

Satoru was silent for a moment, the anger in him simmering into something smaller, sadder. “He’ll just yell again,” he said, almost under his breath.

“Then let him yell,” Yaga said firmly. “But let him help you too. You’re powerful, Satoru, no doubt about that. But you can’t protect that boy, or anyone, if you burn yourself out trying to do it alone.”

Satoru went quiet after Yaga’s words. The ticking clock on the wall filled the silence, steady and unrelenting. He sat there, eyes fixed on the faint scratches carved into Yaga’s desk, marks left by years of restless students, late-night arguments, and desperate plans. His fingers twitched restlessly in his lap, and his jaw moved as though he were grinding over every possible option in his head.

Satoru hated feeling cornered. Hated that no matter how strong he was, how much power he held, the slow, suffocating machinery of clan politics and tradition was something he couldn’t just blast through. He exhaled sharply, leaning back, gaze unfocused as the weight of everything pressed down.

Yaga watched him for a long moment before breaking the quiet. “So,” he said finally, tone calm but edged with expectation. “What are you going to do now, Satoru?”

Satoru sat quietly, the weight of the past few days pressing heavily on him. His brain worked relentlessly, turning over every possibility, every angle, every risk. Frustration and fear swirled together, but beneath it all, a sharp clarity had begun to form.

He knew what had to be done. The answer wasn’t simple, and it wasn’t without sacrifice. Every choice carried consequences, some that would hurt him more than anyone else. And yet, he felt the unmistakable edge of resolve hardening within him.

For a moment, Satoru didn’t answer. Then he sighed, dragging a hand through his hair before lifting his face. The light from the window caught the sharp angles of his features; tired, frustrated, but burning with that unmistakable determination.

“I’ve thought about something,” he said, voice low but firm. “If they won’t listen to me now, I’ll make damn sure they have to later.”

Yaga leaned forward, hands clamped together on his desk. “And what’s your plan?” His tone was low but serious.

Satoru felt the weight of it all pressing down on him; the Zenins’ demands, Suguru’s unyielding anger, Megumi’s quiet vulnerability. Every path before him seemed to lead to pain. If he fought to keep Megumi with them, the Zenins would make their lives hell, and Megumi would be the one to suffer most. And if Megumi suffered, Suguru would spiral. 

But if he gave in to the Zenins, allowing them to claim Megumi as their own, Suguru would never forgive him. He would see it as betrayal, and the distance it would create between them would be something Satoru could never cross again.

The thought of losing either of them twisted something deep inside his chest. It was unbearable. He refused to let it happen.

But there was a fire in his chest. A resolve that no obstacle nor opposition could extinguish.

For now, he would act. Carefully, deliberately. Every move measured, every step taken with purpose. The burden was heavy, but the certainty of what he had to do made his resolve unshakable. Whatever it took, he would see it through.

“I’ve decided.” Satoru started.

Satoru drew a slow breath, his jaw tightening until it ached. The words felt like shards of glass on his tongue, cutting deeper the longer he held them back. Yet beneath the pain, the decision sat heavy and immovable in his chest.

“I’ll have to let Megumi go…”

>>><<<

Suguru couldn’t do this anymore.

Next month, the Zenins would come to take Megumi again. The very thought made his stomach twist and his throat tighten. The quiet ticking of the clock on the wall filled the room, each second dragging louder and heavier against the stillness.

Megumi lay fast asleep on the bed, his small frame barely shifting beneath the blanket. His hand, still faintly bruised, rested limply near his face, fingers curled around the edge of the fabric. Moonlight slipped through the blinds, painting pale silver stripes across his cheek. The sight both soothed and broke something in Suguru’s chest.

He sat hunched on the chair beside the bed, one elbow propped on the desk, his temple resting on his knuckles. His eyes were heavy but unyielding, fixed on the boy as though sheer will could keep him safe. Every quiet breath Megumi drew felt like a fragile reprieve, a reminder that for now, at least, he was still here.

“Those bastards,” Suguru muttered, the words slipping through clenched teeth. His hand trembled where it rested on his knee. The anger burned slow at first, then faster, hotter, spreading through his veins until it was all he could feel.

He imagined storming the Zenin compound, tearing through the walls, making every single one of them pay. Then his mind turned darker. To the higher-ups who allowed it, who smiled behind their rules and decrees. His thoughts began to spiral, wild and heavy, dragging him deeper into a place he couldn’t quite pull himself back from.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, swallowing the rage that threatened to consume him whole. But when he opened them again, his gaze drifted back to Megumi, and the fire in him only sharpened.

He couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t fail. Not anymore.

Then came a knock. A quiet, deliberate tap against the door.

Suguru stood; his heart was heavy even before he reached for the handle. When he opened the door, Satoru stood there, tall and pale in the dim light of the corridor. 

“Suguru, we need to talk,” Satoru said. His tone was calm. 

Suguru didn’t answer. He only gave a small hum of acknowledgment, stepping outside and closing the door behind him.

When Satoru gestured for them to talk outside, Suguru only nodded and followed Satoru from behind, glancing at his back as they made their way to the courtyard.

The night air was sharp and cold, biting against Suguru’s skin. The faint chirp of crickets and the rustle of leaves filled the silence between them.  

For a moment, neither spoke. The tension hung thick, not anger, but heavy with something else. 

“We need to talk about what’s going to happen…” Satoru spoke softly, finally breaking the silence.

“I don’t care what they want, Satoru.” Suguru snapped back immediately, his voice quiet but edged with steel. “I will never send Megumi there to get beaten up again.”

Satoru exhaled slowly, his breath forming pale clouds in the chill. “I know that,” he said, unsurprised, as if he had expected those exact words from Suguru.

“Well,” Suguru shot back, his eyes narrowing, “What’s this about then?”

“I’m sending Megumi to England.”

The words slipped from Satoru’s mouth so softly that for a moment, Suguru wondered if he had imagined them. The wind rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of earth, brushing against Suguru’s face. The school ground was quiet, too quiet, the kind of stillness that only came after something heavy had settled between two people.

Satoru stood five feet apart, hands buried in his pockets, head tilted slightly toward the night sky. The moonlight spilled over him, pale and sharp, tracing the curve of his jaw and catching in his white hair like frost. He looked strangely peaceful, or maybe just resigned.

Suguru frowned, the words not quite settling in. “What are you talking about?” His voice came out strained, disbelieving.

“It’s best to hide him out of the country. The Zenins won’t be able to track him easily then,” Satoru said. He still didn’t meet Suguru’s eyes. “I can get him into a good school there. Somewhere quiet. Safe. Fewer curses lurking around. I’ll arrange a house, make sure everything’s ready before they even know he’s gone.”

Suguru’s breath hitched in disbelief. “So your big solution is to ship him off to the other side of the world? Alone?” His words carried a sharp edge, but underneath it was something else: fear.

Finally, Satoru turned toward him. His usual demeanor was gone, replaced by a look that was calm but heavy. His eyes, that brilliant, unnatural blue, were steady, but there was a quiet ache behind them. 

​​“No,” Satoru said, voice low but certain. He hesitated, just long enough for the silence to cut deep, then added, “You’re going with him.”

For a moment, Suguru couldn’t process what he had just heard. The night air seemed to press against his chest. “What?” His eyes widened, the tone almost childlike. “Satoru..W–what are you talking about?”

Satoru looked down, his shoulders heavy under the pale wash of moonlight. His voice came out quieter this time, steady but laced with something fragile. “If I want the Zenins off his back, the only way out is to cut ties with them indefinitely.” He exhaled slowly, the mist of his breath vanishing into the cold air. “Next year, I’ll be eighteen. That means I’ll finally be eligible to adopt him legally.”

Suguru froze, staring at him. The words sank in slowly.

Satoru’s gaze remained lowered, his hands tightening inside his coat pockets. “It’s going to be a hard and long battle in court; it might even take years,” he continued. “The Zenins won’t just let this go. They have the upper hand, and I’m basically nobody to Megumi. But I promise you, Suguru, I will not give up.” 

His voice wavered slightly at the end, not from uncertainty, but from the sheer weight of what he was planning. “I’m gonna do everything I can to make everything right!” He said. “Until then, I have to stay here. I need to make sure everything’s ready before I challenge them.”

The night wind blew through the trees, carrying the faint rustle of dry leaves. For a while, the only sound between them was that quiet, restless whisper of air.

Finally, Satoru turned to him and lifted his eyes. The usual glint of confidence Suguru knew so well was gone, replaced by raw sincerity. “Megumi isn’t just any kid,” he said softly. “He’s special. You know that. I can’t just hand him off to someone else while I deal with the Zenins. He needs someone who understands what he is… someone who can and will protect him no matter what.”

Suguru’s throat tightened. He could feel the ache building behind his ribs, but he couldn’t find any words.

“I know I’m asking too much,” Satoru said, his voice lowering. “I know this isn’t fair to you.” He hesitated, then stepped closer, close enough that Suguru could see the faint tremble in his jaw, the kind that came when Satoru was trying to hold himself together. “But you’re the only person I can trust with him, Suguru. The only person I can share this burden with.”

His next words came out barely above a whisper. “I can’t do this alone.” He paused, eyes meeting Suguru’s, open and unguarded. “I need you.”

Suguru’s eyes shimmered, the moonlight fracturing in them like broken glass. His breathing came uneven, chest tightening with the effort of keeping it together. Then, without a sound, a single tear slid down his cheek, slow and deliberate.

Suguru lifted a hand before he could think better of it. His palm met Satoru’s cheek; warm, grounding, human. His thumb brushed just beneath Satoru’s eye, tracing the faint dark line there, the proof of sleepless nights and quiet battles.

Satoru went still. The world seemed to fall away; the cold air, the distant city hum, the ache of everything waiting beyond this moment. All that remained was the closeness, the sound of their unsteady breathing, and the quiet, wordless understanding that lingered between them.

“Okay,” Suguru murmured at last, his voice barely more than a breath. His touch lingered, thumb brushing Satoru’s cheek as his gaze searched every line of his face; the tension in his jaw, the faint tremor of his lips, the sadness he always tried to bury. “Okay, Satoru…I trust you.”

For a moment, Satoru didn’t move. His eyes widened slightly, the words catching him off guard, not because he hadn’t expected Suguru to agree, but because of the quiet certainty in his tone. It was the kind of trust that didn’t ask for explanations, that didn’t doubt or demand proof.

Suguru smiled faintly, the corners of his eyes softening. “You can lean on me, Satoru.” His thumb traced one last arc beneath Satoru’s eye before he let his hand fall. “If you say this is what we need to do, then I’ll follow through.”

Satoru’s breath hitched, a small pained sound. Then Satoru moved. Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out, his fingers brushing Suguru’s sleeve before curling around it, tugging him closer. 

It wasn’t a sudden embrace. It was uncertain at first, a quiet seeking of warmth, of something familiar. And when Suguru didn’t pull away, Satoru leaned in, resting his forehead against Suguru’s shoulder.

For a moment, he just stayed there. His breath came out uneven, brushing against Suguru’s neck. Then, quietly, it broke. A shudder. A soft inhale that caught halfway through.

​​“…Thank you,” Satoru whispered, voice rough yet weak, almost swallowed by the night.

Suguru pulled him in an embrace, one hand cradling his back and the other caressing his head. Surely, Satoru reciprocated the gesture, circling his arms around Suguru’s middle and holding him tighter, the world narrowing to the warmth between them. Suguru could feel Satoru’s heartbeat against his chest, fast and uneven, matching his own.

Neither of them spoke again. They didn’t need to. The night wrapped around them quietly, the moonlight pale against their skin. Two boys, tired and hurting, trying so hard to save a child who reminded them of everything they couldn’t fix, holding on to each other because there was nothing else left to hold on to.

Their tears fell quietly, shared and unseen, vanishing into the cold night.

.

.

.

Chapter Text

>>><<<

The airport buzzed with noise: rolling suitcases, loudspeaker announcements, the distant murmur of hundreds of voices blending into one constant hum. But for Satoru, everything sounded muffled, as if he were underwater.

It was the day Suguru and Megumi were leaving for England. He stared at the two boarding passes in his hand. One for Suguru and one for Megumi, the destination read England. He had arranged everything himself, quietly and carefully. A small town far from the city, a beautiful place untouched by the constant hum of curses. It wasn’t perfect, but it was safe.

“I checked the bags already,” Satoru said as he approached.

Suguru sat back against a metal bench, head resting lightly on the top rail, his posture slack. His face was pale, lips a little dry. The dark circles beneath his eyes were visible under the harsh airport lights. Beside him, Megumi sat quietly, small hands resting on his lap, his legs swinging off the floor, eyes darting between the two.

“Thanks,” Suguru murmured, voice faint. “I think I’m feeling a bit queasy. Never traveled this far before.”

“You okay?” Satoru asked, leaning down slightly so he could look at him directly.

“I’ll be okay,” Suguru said, closing his eyes for a moment, his voice softer this time.

Satoru reached into his wallet. He pulled out a few bills and handed them to Megumi.

“Megumi, can you go get some hot tea for Suguru? Buy something for yourself too.”

The boy took the money without hesitation and disappeared into the flow of travelers.

When the boy was gone, Satoru straightened but didn’t move away. He just stood there, hands still in his pockets, eyes fixed on Suguru.

Suguru leaned back with his eyes closed, breathing steadily, unaware, or maybe, deliberately ignoring the way Satoru was looking at him.

Satoru’s chest felt tight. He wanted to reach out, to brush that stray strand of hair off Suguru’s forehead, to feel the warmth of his skin one more time, to make sure he was here before the distance between them became something he couldn’t cross anymore.

But he didn’t move. His fingers curled slightly in his pockets instead.

Every second stretched longer than it should have. He hated how his throat ached with things he couldn’t say. The farewell wasn’t even here yet, and already it hurt, the kind of quiet, twisting ache that sat deep behind his ribs and refused to leave.

Satoru told himself this was the right choice, that sending them away was the only way to keep them safe. But the logic didn’t help. It didn’t quiet the pulse of regret already forming under his skin.

“Hey,” Suguru said suddenly, eyes still closed, voice lazy but aware. “You okay? I can feel your eyes on me.”

Satoru blinked, his mouth twitching into something like a smile. “It’s nothing.”

Satoru finally exhaled, long and quiet, before lowering himself onto the seat beside Suguru. The metal bench was cold against his back. For a while, neither of them said anything, the noise of the airport swelling and fading like waves in the distance.

Suguru lifted his head and turned to Satoru, eyes still half-lidded. “You’re awfully quiet,” he murmured.

Satoru leaned back, resting his arm on the top rail behind Suguru’s head, staring at the people walking in front of him. “Trying not to be annoying for once.” He said, keeping his tone casual.

That earned him a faint chuckle. The sound was soft, but it eased something tight in Satoru’s chest.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Suguru teased as he leaned back again, resting his head on Satoru’s arm.

Satoru’s lips twitched, though the smile didn’t stay long. He turned his head, watching Suguru in profile, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyelashes kissed his cheeks when he blinked.

“You really okay?” Satoru asked again, quieter this time.

Suguru hummed, but his expression wavered. “Just nervous, I guess. Feels weird, you know? Leaving like this.”

Satoru hummed lowly. He didn’t trust himself to say much more. His throat already felt too tight. He wanted to tell Suguru he didn’t want him to go. That he hated airports, hated goodbyes, hated pretending like this was something simple. But he couldn’t because he was the one who decided this. The one who told himself it was safer this way.

Suguru had trusted him completely, blindly. He had given up everything for this plan, for Satoru’s word that it would protect them, protect Megumi. Still, sitting here now, with Suguru resting on him, Satoru wished he could take it all back.

For a moment, their eyes met, a short, quiet exchange that said far more than either of them dared to.

Satoru looked away first, gaze dropping to his hand resting between his knees. “You know,” he said, voice low, “I used to think there’s nothing I can’t fix. That if something breaks, I just have to try harder. Be stronger. But…” He trailed off, shaking his head slightly. “I guess not everything works that way.”

Suguru didn’t respond right away, but the silence that followed wasn’t cold or distant. It was full, almost warm, like an old song both of them had forgotten the melody to. 

Finally, Suguru said softly, “You don’t have to fix everything, Satoru. Sometimes… It’s enough just to care.”

For a moment, Satoru let himself breathe. The tension in his shoulders loosened, just barely, and he found himself looking at Suguru again. The exhaustion, the pale color in his face, the faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. All of it was so achingly human. So fragile and real that it hurt to see.

He wanted to say something. Thank you, or don’t go, or something in between. But before he could, a small voice approached them.

“Got the tea!”

Megumi was hurrying back toward them, clutching a paper cup carefully with both hands.

Suguru smiled faintly and straightened a little as the boy approached. Satoru did too.

“Thanks, Megumi,” Suguru said, his fingers brushing over the boy’s as he took it. He lifted the cup, taking a careful sip, then exhaled softly. “Ah… that’s good.”

Satoru found himself stealing glances at Suguru, memorizing the tilt of his head, the faint curve of his lips when he sipped the tea, the way his face relaxed as he sighed.

They stayed on the bench for a while longer, the three of them sitting in companionable silence. But time moved relentlessly, and the announcement for their flight echoed through the terminal.

Suguru set the empty cup down and stood slowly, his hand brushing along the back of the seat for balance. Satoru rose too, unconsciously mirroring him. He wanted to grab Suguru’s hand, to tell him…something, but he didn’t. Instead, he let the moment linger.

At the gate, the boarding line had already started to form. Suguru stood with Megumi beside him. Satoru’s heart felt heavy, as if the weight of the decision he had made was pressing down on him even more in that crowded space.

“Take care of him,” Satoru said softly to Suguru, his voice low, almost breaking. “And take care of yourself too.”

Suguru looked at him, eyes faintly glassy. “I will,” he replied. “You take care of yourself too, Satoru. Don’t… don’t overwork yourself.”

Satoru managed a small nod, forcing a faint smile that trembled at the corners. Then he turned to Megumi. Crouching down, he placed a hand on the boy’s head, brushing his hair back gently. “Be a good boy, okay, Megumi?”

For a moment, Megumi just stared at him, his lips pressed together, eyes shining but steady. Then he nodded; firm, deliberate, full of quiet determination.

Satoru’s chest tightened at that simple gesture. He gave Megumi one last pat, memorizing the boy’s face, the feel of his small hand gripping his sleeve, before finally letting go.

Suguru bent down slightly, brushing a hand across Megumi’s hair. “Alright, are you ready?” he said. Megumi gave a small nod.

Then, just before stepping toward the gate, he turned to Satoru one last time.

For a heartbeat, they simply stared at each other. The world around them blurred; voices fading into static, movement slowing to a distant hum. It was just the two of them, suspended in a moment that felt too short for everything it carried.

Satoru’s breath caught. There was so much he wanted to say; apologies, promises, words that could never describe what pressed inside his chest. But none of them would have been enough. Words couldn’t reach the space between them anymore, couldn’t touch what they both already knew.

He felt it instead, in the way Suguru’s eyes held his. Steady, gentle, filled with something that ached to look at: trust, forgiveness, and a quiet kind of care that had never once wavered, no matter how far they drifted.

Satoru’s throat burned. He wanted to move, to cross that small distance, to hold onto him for just a little longer. But his body wouldn’t listen. So he stood there, perfectly still, memorizing every detail; his dark hair tied back loosely, a few stray strands brushing against his cheek, the calm set of his mouth, the light catching against the purple iris.

Suguru smiled faintly, a small, knowing thing that said take care of yourself without needing the words. And then Suguru turned, taking Megumi’s hand, and stepped onto the jetway. Satoru watched, unable to move, as they disappeared toward the plane.

A tightness gripped his chest, stubborn and unyielding. He ran a hand over his face, trying to force the ache down, but it lingered, twisting in his chest like a stubborn shadow. He hated how much he missed them already.

Satoru closed his eyes for a long moment, letting himself feel the sting fully. Tears threatened, but he blinked them back. He couldn’t let himself crumble here, not in the middle of the airport. Not now. He drew a slow, steadying breath, letting it fill his lungs. 

When he finally opened his eyes, the terminal felt a little less heavy. The world had returned: the rolling suitcases, the chatter, the bright lights. But Satoru knew something had shifted inside him. The weight of Suguru’s absence would always be there, but so would his resolve.

"I'll do my part. I’ll keep them safe."

And with that thought, Satoru moved forward.

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