Chapter Text
He gasped, his eyes flying open from his dream. His blindfold was still on, shaky hands coming to tear it off. His forehead felt sore from being pushed against his desk. He fell asleep in his office. Again. He closed his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of his eyelashes.
His clothes were wrinkled from hastily putting them on this morning. He forgot, his memories were blurring together. Yuji and Nobara weren’t there. Six years ago. They were talking about Christmas plans today.
Megumi was begrudgingly following along and saying he would go too. But Satoru didn’t have any. He had work that day after all. But he’s at least glad they asked if he wanted to join. His mouth felt dry from not having drank the whole day, or eaten.
His hands felt dry, skin cracking as it always did in the winter time. Not years ago though, he had someone to remind him to do small menial tasks like those. He rubbed the crust out of his eyes, hands running down his face. Salt flaked off his pale skin. Dried tears from earlier. It must’ve been in his sleep because he doesn’t remember crying.
He hated how he always got dreams, No. More like nightmares now. Or maybe memories was a better word for it? They used to be dreams but everything seems to be blending in between the lines through the past year.
He can still feel the blood on his hands, talking to Yuta after hastily washing it with snow. He remembers his strained face, trying to put on a strong face for his student after what he just did to his past lover. Maybe if he closed his eyes, he could pretend it was just wet snow covering his hands.
There was a pit in his chest, eyes searching for his phone on his desk. He tried to ignore the Deja vu he got from it.
His desk was covered in papers, scrawled words half finished on a sheet in front of him. His phone was pushed off his desk at one point, the screen cracked. A sigh escaped his mouth, leaning down to pick it up. There were notifications from his email, more missions from the higher ups. Some first grade curse terrorizing people in the city again.
He glanced to the window, the setting sun already gone. The sky was a deep black, his eye bags noticeable from his reflection. It was silent, no new messages. He scrolled down to his old contacts to the very last one.
Suguru Geto
He tapped the screen, seeing the last sent message.
Satoru: Please don’t do this Suguru.
Sent: 2017 dec 24th.
He scrolled up, he didn’t have to much more. Just five years of no more messages. Until he came across that very same conversation.
Gojo: Suguruuuu~
Sent: 2012 dec 7th.
What do you want? I’m :loverboysugu
kinda busy.
Gojo: is your calendar clear
For saturday?
Sent: 2012 dec 7th.
I’ll check in a bit, i got to :loverboysugu
Go. love you
Gojo: Love you too Suguru!!(*^▽^*)
Sent: 2012 dec 7th.
His blue eyes blurred for a moment, before he wiped them dry. He clicked off the app, heading to emails. There was a mission assigned to him a few hours ago, so he had to do it now. Without wasting time he conjured up infinity. He felt the brisk wind of December push past his clothes.
On top of a skyscraper near where the curse was supposed to be he looked up at the sky. It was cold without a jacket, but it wasn’t covered in snow. It seemed like he never got what he wanted nowadays. Not even on his birthday because otherwise he wouldn’t be standing here at eleven o’ clock.
He pulled out his phone, opening up messages again. He decided to call that number. It went straight to voicemail, and he heard that voice
“Suguru geto here! Or not, because for some reason I haven't answered your call. Text me and don’t call again!” he said in a sickly sweet voice for the last sentence.
If I could see you. Once more to see you.
He would scream Sugurus name atop of this building once more to see him again. If only he wouldn’t get nothing but the wind blowing past his ears if he did do that.
If only he could bring it all back, the joy of seeing Suguru when he came back home after a long mission. Kissing his forehead if he caught the other sleeping. What it was like to be pinned down by the other, feeling the pure love in his actions. He should’ve done something differently. But would it change anything at all? Would his words even change Sugurus mind? Was his love not enough?
But he guessed his love really wasn’t enough because after he finished his mission and walked into his house, there was no reason at all to yell ‘i’m home!’ before locking the door.