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1 missed voicemail.
From: Mama
December 31st, 2007 at 11:36pm
“Suguru, this is your mother. Well, I'm sure you already knew that. I’m about to go to sleep, but I thought I'd call just to check on you. I haven’t heard from you in a while. I hope you’re okay, sweetie. I know that place—Uh, sorry, school has you busy. If things ever get hard, please call me. You know I love you, Suguru. I also called to say happy new year. I know it isn’t midnight yet but I don't think I can stay up any longer, so I'm telling you a bit early. I’m getting old, Suguru. It’s gonna be February soon—you’re gonna turn eighteen soon. Oh, I shouldn't bring that up. I’ll feel sick. You’re still a little boy, aren’t you? Okay, well, I hope you’re having fun with your friends. And if you aren’t, then go get on with it. Your father says he misses you, too. We all do… Okay, I better get to bed. Call me back when you can, not tonight but—sometime. You know. Okay, bye. Come visit, also. Soon. Bye, honey.
. . .
A big, long sigh exhaled its way from Suguru’s mouth as he threw his old flip phone face-down on his bed. He considered throwing himself down with it, drowning all of his thoughts into a pillow; yet he prevailed. It was 11:39 now, and Satoru had texted him a good thirty minutes ago telling him to come on outside, you’re gonna miss the part where Nanamin melts my face off with a sparkler.
Suguru couldn’t tell you why he hadn’t yet. His eyelids betrayed him, growing heavier by the minute, but it wasn’t like he’d passed out yet. He heard all the crashing from outside—and didn’t want to fathom what they were doing out there, what chaos ensued. He was surprised, honestly, that his classmates weren't too busy for this. Celebration. Most people spent the new year alone, trying to blow themselves up with fireworks or drinking so much alcohol that it could crack their skin open and flood their entire house with the sour stuff.
Negative energy seething, curses spread like maggots.
Suguru has sworn he could feel them. Worming their way underneath his skin, hot iron tangling in his veins. He itched until he bled and they still wouldn’t leave him be. The rot was a part of him, now.
He hesitated picking his phone back up and redialing his mother, the decision hitting him harder than it needed to. He’ll do it tomorrow—yeah, tomorrow. He would. On the train to his next mission; some small town a rural hour away. The irony pricked his tongue.
More buzzing, and Suguru didn’t have to check his phone to know who it was. Not that the fact stopped him—he scrambled for it, rubbing built-up sleep off of his eyes before picking up. “Hello?”
“Suguru!” Satoru’s low quality voice pounded in his ear. “Where the hell are you?! It’s been thirty minutes. Luckily, my face is still intact, but I wouldn't count on that staying the case for much longer. Everybody's gone inside, now. Refillin’ drinks, or somethin’, but I think Nanami went to bed. Can you believe that? They’re all boring.” Some hesitant shuffling. “Come out here, don’t be boring.”
Suguru swallowed, pretending like he registered anything Satoru just said. The boy talked too fast for his own good. “I’m tired, I think i’ll–”
“Come on, Suguru. What's up? How are you tired? You’ve been sleeping all day, haven’t you? You’re like a vampire,” Satoru’s crackling voice wavered in-between distant and close. Repeating himself; “Come out here, I wanna see you.”
Suguru couldn’t get a word out before a beep indicated that Satoru had hung up, not giving him the chance to deny the offer again. It was now 11:46. Suguru, with much reluctance, rose out of bed, slipping on a pair of chipped sandals while making his sluggish way outside.
The sky was unkind in Tokyo. Fluorescents, not stars; and you were lucky if you ever saw one. It was especially bad at Jujutsu Tech, the place was flooded with streetlights. Artificial, blinding. Although, when it hits 12am, every single streetlight automatically turns off; and lets the stars have their show. Suguru never stayed up late to watch it anymore—but the knowledge that it happened at all comforted him well enough.
Satoru was nowhere to be spotted, beige concrete and a soft breeze the only things accompanying Suguru. Out of thin, cold air, somewhere up above; ”Suguru! There ya are,” A voice that he recognized all too well.
Suguru blinked, looking up at him. “What are you doing on the roof?”
Satoru cocked his head. “Whaaat?”
Suguru sighed. This was going to be a long night.
Satoru reached a hand out, signaling Suguru to come closer. Complying, the shorter boy walked his way up to the porch railing. “Climb up, it’s not hard.” Satoru noted, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the wooden roof.
Says you, the lankiest guy anybody knows.
Complying, Suguru firmly put one sandaled foot on top of the railing, hiking his other with it as Satoru took ahold of his hands and hauled him all the way up, easier than Satoru expected; Suguru’s bone nearly peeking out of his wrist. He tilted his head as Suguru sat himself comfortably (as comfortable as you can get on a shingled roof, anyway.)
Satoru smelled sickly sweet, as he always did—and resting on the space beside him was a cup of some sugary, familiar drink; Amazake. To celebrate 2008, Suguru assumed. As if you need the excuse of a holiday to drink something tooth-rotting.
Satoru’s pale hand glided to grab it, teasing it up to his lips before taking a sip. Suguru watched with his default frown, unease swarming his gut like a storm brewing, ready to destroy everything and sweep both of them up in it.
“What took ya so long?” He asked, staring at Suguru, eyes shielded by dark lenses. “Everybody else came out at 10.”
Suguru swallowed, ready to lie. “I was sleeping.”
Lying was easier than trying to explain the experience of drowning in something between misery and confusion, a lake that Suguru had been damp from.
With no further context, Satoru only squinted in response. “Yeah, you look tired.”
Suguru closed his eyes, because he was. He leaned his head back before opening them back up to reveal a sky dressed in artificial lighting, waiting to be scathed with its population of glowing hope. It wasn’t the only one waiting; Suguru was quite fond of the stars himself. They’ve always made him think of his mother, and maybe Riko, too.
He swallowed down a bit of bile. “I’m surprised Shoko didn’t at-least stay up.”
Satoru scoffed like a little boy. “I told you, they’re all boring.” Like a drunkard, he took a large, long swig of his drink; and Suguru swears that Satoru could never be addicted to alcohol like he’s addicted to sweets. Suguru thinks they might have the same effect on the lightweight. It wouldn’t be surprising.
“Nanami took the last of the sparklers with him. Boring…” He repeated, as if the word would run away from him. Satoru glanced at his phone and Suguru caught a peek. 11:52. “Cheer up, Suguru. It’s almost 2008, and you get to spend the year with your favorite person ever.”
Suguru painted on a frail smile, his lips cracking with dead skin. He could’ve choked out a feeble response, yet he fought against it. A weak battle; as these days he nearly had to fight to be able to say anything.
He would get back to his room as soon as possible, considering how the roof began to feel unreasonably comfortable and Suguru wouldn’t be very fond of falling asleep on it. However, he decided that he could spare eight minutes. Besides, what’s eight minutes spent if not with somebody you love; even when the lights have gone out?
He swallowed something scratchy, his body leaning towards Satoru’s subconscious warmth. A cricket chirped somewhere in the distance. “It’s quiet out here.”
Things have seemed quieter, anyway, which Suguru didn’t mind. Time seems to have warped since last summer, everything a sharp blur. His head throbbed as Satoru wiped his mouth. “Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be if those losers would’ve stayed out here and lit fireworks with me.”
Suguru shuddered at the mere thought of crashing and booming fireworks. Unlike some, he enjoyed the quiet; often bathed in it. He found himself enjoying it more with other people. It was less lonely that way.
Well, it used to be. Now he felt lonely no matter what.
“11:54,” Satoru murmured, finally letting go of his cup and setting it back down next to him, letting long, spindly legs dangle in the night air. “Don’tcha have a late mission tomorrow?”
Suguru blinked, looking down with hair falling against his face. “Yes.”
He found himself hating missions. Loathing the help he gave to non-sorcerers on them, and the sting of the phantom cuffs that sat cold against his wrists. Hate was a thousand needles forked into his body.
“Jeez, you’d think some people would lighten up for new years, but no… Just curse after curse, ain’t it?” Satoru complained. Suguru pursed his lips.
“Yes,” He repeated, peering lasers into his sandals. His eyes fluttered shut as he felt the breeze hit his bare arms, and sensed Satoru shifting a bit closer. Satoru was still clothed in his uniform—half of it, at least. He’d taken the jacket off, left with only a button-up on top. The deep blue pants hugged his legs. Suguru couldn’t be bothered to even look at his own uniform when he hadn’t a mission.
Suguru brought his head up and watched as Satoru’s bright eyes swiftly darted between streetlights. Always on guard, isn’t he? 11:57.
There was, of course; something about him. The age-old saying, because there always was. He might have been the most arrogant person Suguru’s ever known, but he’d far gotten over that. Best he could, anyway. Because there was a lot more to Satoru Gojo than he let on. It was only a matter of if you were lucky enough to see all of the buried parts of him—It was only a matter of if you were Suguru Geto or not.
“Tried to talk Shoko into some New Year, new me bullshit, y’know,” The corner of Satoru’s lips tugged up. “The idea was that she stopped smoking. New Year, new Shoko.”
“Wonder how she reacted to that.”
“Not kindly.”
Suguru let out a small laugh that quickly morphed into a sigh, hanging his head low for a second time. Any moment now it was going to be 2008; any moment now he would be able to sleep.
Hazy seconds brushed by before they were expectedly met with instant and unforgiving darkness. It swallowed the night whole, engulfing the two boys in it.
It was midnight. The fluorescents have fallen asleep, inviting the stars to keep watch. Suguru’s dry eyes sat looking nowhere but the sky. He’d forgotten how much he missed it—well, he did at some point, he thinks. Now, he felt nothing.
Satoru’s cold fingertips were felt against his face and there weren’t three seconds to count before his lips were, too. The distance between them was gone, a distance that went further than how close their faces sat. Suguru melted into the kiss, chasing Satoru’s sweet lips as they parted from his own.
“Happy new year, pretty boy.” A tease, of course; as his eyes flickered up and down Suguru’s face. “Well, not so pretty right now. It is dark out here, but you kinda look like shit.”
Suguru sighed. One serious moment, can we not have one serious moment?
Satoru let go of his face to acknowledge his empty cup. “Damn, when did I drink all of it?”
Suguru brought his own calloused hands to his face, palms rough and scratchy as they rubbed against his eyes. He was somehow sick of the stars, and who they brought his mind to.
“Hey—where are you goin, bangs? It’s not even 12:01 yet!”
Suguru carefully helped himself onto the ground the same way he did getting up, putting his feet on the railing and climbing down as if it were a ladder. He was lucky he didn’t fall; he could hardly see much. “Early mission tomorrow.”
“I thought you said it was a late one, you asshole.” Satoru lightly kicked his feet in a small fit of frustration.
Suguru ignored the comment. He didn’t spare the taller boy a last glance before beginning to walk away. Three steps were taken before he paused. “Satoru?”
He pivoted, observing Satoru’s attention; now piqued.
“Happy new year.”
. . .
1 missed voicemail.
From: Suguru
January 3rd, 2008 at 12:02am
“Hello, mom. Happy new year. I’ll be visiting tonight. I know you’re asleep, but it’s alright. I won’t be there for long. You’ll hardly even see me. I’m on the train right now. Goodbye."