Chapter Text
It’s quite strange to be alive again.
On good days his body feels like returning to your childhood home to find it’s been slightly altered, but not enough to be obvious. The changes are only visible on a closer inspection. The cracks can’t be seen until you’ve already stumbled over them.
On bad days he can feel the creeping presence of the other creature still lurking in the back of his mind. He swears he can hear its voice whispering horrible truths to him.
Kenjaku.
That’s what its name was.
There’s something strange about giving a name to a creature that’s been stealing bodies and identities for centuries.
Suguru can’t help but wonder about the creature, but he always pulls back before his mind wanders too far into dangerous territories. His control is precarious and delicate, a fragile thing held together with what remains of Suguru’s stubbornness and Shoko’s hard work.
It’s a difficult task to control powers that you do not understand.
The blankets rustle as Satoru nestles closer at his side. Suguru’s thoughts quickly swerve away from the looming threat inside his own body and turn to Satoru. He’s hiding his face in the crook of Suguru’s neck, clearly already awake but refusing to open his eyes.
Suguru pulls him closer and buries his face in Satoru’s soft white hair.
Being back together still feels like a dream.
It’s only been a few weeks since Satoru’s mishap and Suguru’s return. It all passed in the blink of an eye. Somehow they slipped into a simple routine as if it hasn’t been ten long years since they’d been together. As if this was how they lived all along. A nice apartment. A warm bed. Going to sleep and waking up together.
He feels restless.
“What are you thinkin’ about?” Satoru mumbles, still half asleep.
“About you being late to the school if you keep sleeping.” He kisses the top of Satoru’s head.
“Ugh…Don’t worry about it. They’ll be fine on their own for a bit.”
“I doubt that.” Suguru sighs. He can’t say he likes most of Satoru’s previous students. Suguru does like Yuji and Nobara. He feels a certain kinship to the two of them. To Yuji for their shared duty of consuming curses and to Nobara for their similar origin.
And the others…
Well, Suguru likes them about as much as they like him.
“You know…Everyone always said you’d be a great teacher.” Satoru shifts until he’s laying on top of Suguru’s chest, a finger gently tracing his muscles. “Trying to prove them wrong?”
Suguru rolls his eyes. “I’m not trying anything. Most of those kids are just…” He sighs.
“Who would have thought you’d be the one to get into fights with teenagers?” Satoru grins, teasingly. For some reason, he hasn’t been taking the very clear animosity between Suguru and most of the students very seriously.
“Maybe it’s your fault.” Suguru pokes Satoru’s waist only to hear him giggle and shuffle around under the blankets. “What sort of education have you been giving them?”
“Are you questioning my abilities as a teacher, Suguru?” Satoru asks, mocking offence. He dragged himself up, sitting in Suguru’s lap now and holding his hand over his chest as if his honour has just been insulted.
“I wasn’t aware you had those.” Suguru jokes. He doesn’t mean it. He’s been incredibly surprised by Satoru’s ability to deal with the teenagers.
“I’ll have yo know.” Satoru leans over him, noses touching. “I have all sorts of abilities.”
“Oh?” Suguru grins.
“Yeah, you should ask Nanami,” Satoru says teasingly and gives him one soft kiss on the lips before jumping out of bed.
Suguru’s lays frozen in place.
It’s not that he expected Satoru to never move on from him…
Yes, he might have hoped for it deep inside. In Suguru’s heart, he and Satoru have always been so inseparable that no one else would ever compare to the love they held for each other. He never looked for anyone else either. Not that he had to look very far. There were always a myriad of options, but none could ever compare. Not in power, or beauty, or intellect.
None of them were Satoru.
Satoru loves Nanami.
Satoru trusts Namai and Nanami, even under all his cold exterior, deeply cares fo Satoru.
Mostly importantly Nanami sees Satoru as a person.
The petty part of Suguru wants to remind the other man of his moment of weakness. How he also thought of Satoru as nothing, but a weapon to be used and used again. He knows it would be useless. Satoru would never hold it against Nanami.
He still loves Suguru, after all.
You’d never expect how large and full of love Satoru’s heart is. Always ready to give more in exchange for very little. Everyone is used to it by now.
Still…Suguru wishes it was just the two of them.
‘You could make it so.’
Every muscle in Suguru’s body goes rigid as a voice identical to his calls out from the recesses of his mind. He stops breathing, he doesn’t move or speak or think, as if he’s a hunted animal trying to avoid a hungry predator.
It’s probably useless, but his instincts are screaming at him.
‘Did you really think you’d be free of me so easily? Don’t be a fool, boy. We’re one and the same. If you want to get rid of me you might as well take matters into your own hands~’
Suguru grits his teeth, his jaw aches and his knuckles are white from the strength with which he’s clenching his fists.
‘Or would you rather give me some time with Satoru?’
Cold shivers overwhelm Suguru as he hears the way that creature says Satoru’s name.
He’s overwhelmed by both anger and pure terror.
“Suguru!” Satoru bursts into the room, hair wet from the shower and wearing nothing. “I was thinking…Remember how I always dried your hair when we were in school? Well, it’s your turn now!” He’s grinning from ear to ear as he strolls over to Suguru, hairdryer in hand.
Although Satoru’s presence has silenced Kenjaku’s vile thoughts, Satoru must still feel that something is wrong. His brows furrow and he stands in front of Suguru. He gently reaches out and cups Suguru’s face. Those piercing blue eyes stare straight into his soul.
“You promised you’d tell me when something’s wrong this time,” Satoru says, quietly, but confidently.
Suguru did promise.
“Just a headache.” He links his fingers through Satoru’s and smiles. “I’ll dry your hair, but put something on before you catch a cold.”
But Suguru’s a liar.
“Alright, we’ll have Shoko take another look at you.”
And of course, Satoru believes him.
“Satoru, you don’t have to make a big deal out of it. It’s fine.” He’s been gently trying to soothe Satoru’s anxieties for weeks, but nothing can quite heal Satoru’s old wounds. No matter how much Shoko and Suguru try to reassure him, he’s always on edge, terrified by the slightest hint that Suguru’s condition is anything less than perfect.
Satoru sighs. “You’re off the hook for now.” He leans closer and kisses Suguru. “I love you, Suguru.”
“I love you too, Satoru.”
‘How disgustingly sweet.’