Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Suguru groaned as soon as he crossed the threshold of his apartment.

It was only Tuesday evening, but it felt like he had been working non-stop all week. All the exhaustion and fatigue laid heavy on his shoulders and he wanted nothing more than to fall into his king-sized bed and sleep for at least a year.

Yeah, not happening.

The apples of his eyes, the pride of his heart, almost the only joy in his dull life — his two little sisters Mimiko and Nanako — are coming tomorrow. But not that little already. The last break in their study approached too soon and they decided to spend a couple of days in their brother's home. He had talked to his parents about it the day before, and they kept telling him that the girls didn't have to stay overnight, but he hadn't seen them for more than three months and had already missed their cute little faces. So it's the last stop before their graduation and start of the exams to apply to the university, and after that, they will not have such opportunities to spend time together again. 

And with that, it was settled that they spend some time with him, and so Suguru had to be prepared. 

This is exactly why after an awful workday, neverending meetings and calls, after conference after conference and angry yelling from clients that he is incapable of doing his work right, Suguru from the metro station went straight to the supermarket. There he spent the lion's share of his advance payment for his last project to buy products for cooking the twins' favourite dishes, as well as gifts for the girls. 

He knows that Mimiko collects this caricature ugly plush toys, and Nanako loves the photoshooting and everything related to it, so Getou was more than sure that the collectible toy and the brand new polaroid would definitely appeal to the girls. And although it may be a bit expensive for gifts for sixteen-year-old girls, he doesn't see them every day either, so he wanted to pamper them.

So, after a very fucked-up day, the plan for tonight is to prepare dinner for himself and meals for three of them for tomorrow.

But first of all - coffee and a cigarette. Suguru will not be able to function unless he pours caffeine into himself right now and smokes at least one — ideally a whole pack — of cigarettes.

Like in a trance he tossed his loafers and left large bags with product and presents at the kitchen counter. After making sure that there was enough water in the kettle, he turned it on and headed for his bedroom.

Inside his bedroom he was greeted with an unmade bed and with a heavy exhale, the boy realised that he still had to clean the whole apartment.

But that's later, somewhere after he's cooked meals for a few days in advance.

The raven-haired boy looked up at the wall clock with a tired gaze. Almost 9 p.m. 

Well, in the best case scenario, he will be able to start cleaning around twelve, and finish his work no earlier than one in the morning.

“Fucking wonderfull…”

Tossing aside sad thoughts about how much work still needed to be done, Suguru focused on the task at hand.

Opening his closet, he pulled out one of his many loose black t-shirts and sports shorts. Suguru tossed his suit into the laundry basket and quickly changed into spare clothes. After this he made the first pleasant gesture of the evening, letting his hair down, which had been tied in a tight bun on top of his head all day.

It’s hard to describe that relief that he felt when he pulled out the hair tie from his head. If hair could orgasm, Suguru’s hair would definitely cum every workday after this gesture.  

Lightly massaging his scalp with his fingers, Getou closed his eyes. If he were a cat, he would have purred. It's just a pity that he has to do it all to himself. If only it were someone else's hands...

His hands freezed and his eyes instantly opened at the sudden thought.

Oh no, you don’t wanna open that door.

From a distance, he heard the electric kettle turn off in the kitchen, which meant that he was only one spoonful of instant coffee away from his liquid pleasure. One day he will buy a coffee machine, but not today.

So, the Bustelo it is. 

After quickly making himself a drink — black coffee, no sugar, no cream — he hesitated for a minute, considering his next steps.

He could have stayed in the apartment, smoked a cigarette in the kitchen or in the common room in the open window. However, the girls are coming tomorrow and he knows they don't like it when he smokes. Although there is still plenty of time before they arrive (they won't be here until tomorrow night), knowing their sensitive noses, they will immediately smell even the remnants of smoke in the apartment. And after that, no matter how much he doesn't want to, he will have to look at their puffed-up cheeks because their brother more likely wants to bury himself before his time.

Or something like that, but the tears in their eyes are still the same. 

So, it was decided that Suguru would smoke on the shared balcony.

With a pack of cigarettes safely hidden in his shorts pocket, still holding the 'Best Dad in the whole world' mug — the girls had given it to him as a gift, either seriously or as a joke, convincing him that the 'Best big brother' mug was simply not available — he put on his slippers and closed the front door behind him.

The shared balcony was nothing special. It was (strangely enough) a large balcony over the entire floor. There were two exits to get there: one right next to Suguru's apartment and another on the opposite side of the corridor.

Suguru knew that on other floors of this building such balconies were quite lovely looking: some had numerous flowers in vases, others had tables and chairs, and somewhere else people had put up clothes dryers. But that was only because some of these apartments were really too small to dry things inside.

However, there was no such thing on the balcony on their floor. It was just an empty space with a couple of cigarette butts lying on the ground and a failed attempt at a garbage can, if a cardboard box filled with various junk could be called that.

Or so he thought. 

When he opened the door to their balcony today, Suguru froze in his tracks.

There was a couch in the middle of the balcony.

And not just a simple old couch with worn fabric, — it's a new-looking burgundy leather couch. It is pretty large too. And although it didn’t take up the entire balcony space, it could easily accommodate about three or four people who could sit with their legs spread and not interfere with each other.

Suguru also noticed that instead of the cardboard box as a trash can, there was now a real one. It was small, but it was more than enough for cigarette butts and other trash.

Speaking of cigarette butts, they were no longer lying around— the floor had been swept and seemed to have been washed.

Has there really always been tiles here?

And while all his attention was on amends around and on this striking piece of furniture that had suddenly appeared in the area, he barely noticed a figure at the end of the couch. Suguru would probably still be standing there in a frozen state if it weren't for the loud voice:

“And what do you need?”

And it was said in such a harsh tone and with such disgust that with the mood in which Getou returned from his work he already had a response on his tongue that that`s none of your fucking business, you stupid dickhead.

Before his mind went quiet as soon as Suguru's eyes focused on the stranger. He froze for a couple of beats of his heart because…

Is it a natural hair colour?

It was snow-white. So blinding that even in this twilight Suguru had the impression that it was illuminating the area by itself. If the moon were to come out right now, he was sure that this mop of white hair could send the dancing sun—moon?—beams across the walls.

And now it was clear that the question was not for him.

The guy sitting in the far corner had a phone in his right hand and was playing with a lighter with his left, striking a spark every now and then, clearly annoyed by the conversation with someone on the other side of the phone.

Suguru finally let go of the door, which he had been holding open since he stepped onto the balcony, and it slammed shut with a sharp sound.

Suguru winced at the thunderous noise. 

It drew another boy’s attention. He quickly turned to him, the sound of the lighter immediately died away. His brows were furrowed, jaw set, and his gaze cold and piercing.

However, his expression softened as soon as he met Suguru's eyes.

The boy was still silent, probably listening to the speaker on his phone, but his gaze spoke volumes. It shifted from cold and sharp to somehow tender and curious, and a shiver ran down Suguru's spine.

As if an unusual hair colour was not enough for nature, there are two boundless, crystal-clear skies looked down on Suguru from the couch. From such an intense gaze Suguru felt naked. Not like naked naked, but as if all his secrets had been exposed, all his fears seen.

Pale eyebrows lifted slightly above royal blue eyes, and the boy's head faintly tilted to the side.

And while the stranger studied him, Suguru studied the stranger. 

His face was slightly elongated with a sculpted jaw and cheekbones. His hair, which Suguru only now noticed was a touch damp, fell into his eyes a little. These same azure-grey eyes were framed by thick white eyelashes. He had a small but sharp nose, soft and plump lips.

Defined and delicate features all at once.

It was as if someone unearthly was sitting in front of him. With heavenly features, otherworldly beauty.

Cherished by the gods. 

Edenic .

“You can tell him he can fuck himself!”

...or until he opens his mouth.

Suguru even jumped a little at the sudden exclamation, spilling some coffee on the floor. The other guy noticed this as well and only offered him an apologetic smile.

Getou still didn't know what to do.

On the one hand, he came here with a clear goal— to smoke and recover a little before he had to dive into urgent matters. He needed this break. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he was intruding on something personal and that he should leave before things got too awkward.

Although he was drawn to this stranger like a magnet, he decided to return to his apartment. Still, he could smoke inside.

Yeah-yeah, Nanako and Mimiko will get upset, but... well, it wouldn't be the first time they've been disappointed in him.

“You can sit, you know?” Whispered a guy covering the phone's speaker with his hand.

This brought Suguru back down to earth from his thoughts. And despite the fact that a second ago he was ready to turn around, walk out of here and pray to all the of all existent and non-existent gods to run into him again someday, in no time he found himself sitting on the opposite side of the couch.

The blond boy smiled softly, despite the fact that he still occasionally rolled his eyes at what was being said on his phone.

Pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, Suguru started to feel for his lighter, only to…

He closes his eyes in defeat. 

Of course he left it in the apartment, how else could it be?

Getou had already resigned himself to the fact that the universe was against him smoking today, when a lighter clicked to his right and a small spark came alive. In a flash, the spark turned into a flame and Getou's eyes found the azure one once again.

He was still sitting at the far end of the couch with his hand outstretched, holding a lighter for him.

The corners of Getou's mouth twitched involuntarily into a smile as he moved closer to the boy. Holding the mug with coffee in one hand and his hair in the other to keep it from falling into the flames, he clamped his teeth around the cigarette and inhaled, lighting it.

Sitting up straight again, he nodded briefly in gratitude and finally took a full breath. The bitter smoke immediately filled his lungs, calming all his nerves.

Getou tried to focus on the landscape in front of him rather than on the feeling of another person literally at arm's length from him, but it wasn`t an easy task. And although the guy next to him was silent again, the person at the other side of the phone — or more precisely, the woman, as he could hear from the muffled noise — kept talking nonstop.

After Getou inhaled the smoke for the third time, the guy next to him spoke again.

“Okay, that’s enough. I'm not signed to listen to all this crap. You heard me for the first time and I won’t repeat it again.” There was a short pause before he continued. “Yeah, no thanks. I'm not interested in ‘strengthening family ties ’ as you say. You two had twenty-five years for that but you chose to start now?” He huffed a short breath. “Good night, Mother.” And then he turned off the phone groaning.

Getou stubbed his cigarette butt out on the floor and tucked it into his shorts pocket. His brain was working overtime, digesting the information from the last few minutes and the snippets of conversation he had heard. What he first thought was a fight between this guy and his potential girlfriend turned out to be a conversation with his mother.

The whole situation itself was mind-blowing.

Damn, thats was rought.

The guy next to him burst out laughing, rubbing his eyes with his hand. “Yeah, don’t tell. Not the best relationship, I must say. Hope yours with your children better.”

One sentence made Getou choke on the coffee he had just decided to drink.

Did he really say his last thought out loud?

But also…

“What do you mean my children?” He had finally found his voice.

The guy next to him looked at him from under his fingers, which were still covering his eyes, and raised a questioning eyebrow. His gaze quickly dropped to the cup in Getou’s hand and then lifted to his eyes again.

For a few seconds, it was as if a slow-loading webpage was flickering before Suguru’s eyes — and then, all at once, everything clicked into place.

“Oh no, that’s not it!” He was quick to disagree. ‘It’s just a joke, my sisters gave it to me as a present. A stupid one, for sure… And by the way I'm still too young for the kids, thank you very much.”

He cleared his throat and gulped his coffee again. His brown eyes concentrate on the landscape ahead.

Why is he getting nervous all of a sudden near this guy anyway? 

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” 

Awkward silence stretched between them. Suguru didn't know what the other boy was thinking. The silence pressed down on him and he went through millions of ideas in his head as to why this conversation was doomed and why this guy next to him wanted nothing to do with him.

Nevertheless, he is a complete mess. He appeared here in the middle of his conversation, violated this guy's privacy. He had definitely been staring at his face for too long. He spilled his coffee, said too much, spoke too loudly, made an inappropriate comment — though he clearly didn't mean to do it out loud! — but that’s not the point.

The point is — it was a terrible first impression. Yep, an unforgettable terrible first impression.

It's not that he planned to do anything with this guy right away, no, it's just that too much has happened even for an acquaintance.

Getou clutched the cup, which still contained cool coffee, closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath through his nose.

Suguru heard the boy get up from the couch, but he still couldn't bring himself to open his eyes.

Although I probably should have. We will definitely not see each other again.

"I don't know why I didn't think of that before…" the guy suddenly called out and despite his best judgement, the dark-haired boy opened his eyes. When he turned his head to the right, those boundless cerulean eyes were already looking at him. "...but I could really use a table here. That way you wouldn't have to hold a cup in your hands all the time." Getou didn't take his eyes off him, still not knowing what to say. "And an ashtray." He added after a pause.

The blond-haired boy turned away from him, gazing at the spring landscape stretched out before them. He slipped both hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and took a deep breath. His facial features were relaxed; the furrow between his brows that had been there during the tense phone call was gone — Getou could only guess what it was about, but it was clearly nothing pleasant.

The boy turned on the spot and headed for a different exit from the one from which Suguru had come. For some reason, the action made the boy's heart clench uncomfortably, and his mouth fell open before he could stop himself. 

"Suguru!"

He mentally slapped himself. What a way to make friends.

However, the other guy stopped and looked over his shoulder. His blond eyebrows were again raised in surprise, and his eyes were widened a little.

He coughed and tried again, in a calmer, more confident voice, but this time with a whole fucking sentence: "My…um… my name is Geto Suguru." When the boy didn't say a word, even though the ball of uncertainty inside him was growing by the second, he forced himself to continue. "And what is yours?"

The boy opposite him blinked several times, as if coming out of a trance, then smiled genuinely. And although the smile was very slight, almost foreign to him, Getou knew for sure it was sincere, because his heavenly eyes reflected the same joy.. 

“Satoru. Just Satoru.” He held Suguru’s gaze for a moment longer, as if trying to etch every detail of his face into memory. Then he turned away once more and, with that same quiet smile lingering in his voice, said softly, “See ya, Suguru.”

The door closed with a soft sound, leaving him alone with a cold cup of coffee and his jumbled thoughts.

Suguru let out a shaking breath he didn’t know he was holding back. 

Though the bitter taste of the last cigarette still clung to his mouth, his fingers absentmindedly twitched for another. He drew the pack from his pocket and had already caught a new cigarette between his lips when it hit him — the lighter was gone, left behind with the stranger… with Satoru.

This caused him to stop completely in his movements and then put the cigarette back into the package.

The sun has completely set, leaving only darkness and chilled spring air behind. Suguru remained glued to the spot for several minutes, chewing on his bottom lip. After some time, he stood up and headed home.

He paused in the hallway before his door, staring into the empty corridor, half-expecting as if, by some quiet miracle, he might see him standing there.

But to vail. 

Once in the comfort of his own apartment, he placed his mug in the sink and glanced at his phone on the counter. There were several messages from Mimiko and Nanako, a few notifications from Instagram, and some missed calls from his mom.

He opened the chat just in time to see his mother sending him a message.

mom 🖤

Couldn't reach you — you were probably busy.

Call your mother from time to time, will you?😊

Sleep well, dear.

Love you♥️

At the word "mother," something unpleasant curled in his chest. Suguru shoved it aside and quickly replied to this and other messages. He then glanced at the screen and frowned at the time — 9:45. It was his longest coffee-and-cigarette break ever.

Still, he didn’t mind. A small smile once again crept onto his face as he unloaded his shopping bags.

As he started cooking stew for tomorrow, he couldn’t — and wouldn’t — get his mind off white locks of hair and deep blue eyes.

Chapter Text

"You must be fucking kidding me."

The screen of his phone displayed four missed calls from his supervisor and seven unread messages in Teams.

Impressive, considering his workday officially ended over an hour and a half ago (unofficially just twenty minutes ago). Suguru doesn’t think of his job as the classic boss-asshole-client-dickhead situation, but on days like this, he wants nothing more than to quit.

He had just stepped off the train that had arrived at the station, and while checking for messages from his sisters, who were about to arrive, he was met with a flood of work problems.

There’s no seasonality in his job—that’s basically why he chose this profession. Being a developer isn’t a walk in the park—and it’s certainly not about sitting idle while money pours in, like many people assume. But even so, nothing in his life had prepared him for the sheer absurdity of some clients and their demands.

He always smiles when he reads those rare words of thanks and deep gratitude. Still, he can confidently say that most of his clients are completely detached from reality.

It seems like most of the requests are fever dreams or the fantasies of dim-witted people. Like, how the hell can someone seriously ask for a project that realistically takes three months to be finished in two weeks?

So here and there, fleeting thoughts of quitting pass through his mind, but he doesn’t have the financial cushion to quit just yet. And even if he did, where would he go?

His education and six years of experience are all he has. At twenty-five, Suguru has never worked anywhere else except helping his parents in their small family store in his hometown. However, the idea of working as a shop assistant, consultant, or, God forbid, a waiter doesn't excite him. And changing jobs to do the same thing in another company seems pointless.

Not that he looks down on waiters. It’s just that it involves direct interaction with people, and he knows all too well what assholes people can be. He's lucky to mostly deal with them via email or phone, but facing that rudeness in person? That’s beyond his limits. With his temperament, he’s not sure he could go a full workday without punching some jerk who mouths off to him.

So, quitting is off the list.

For now.

Without opening the app, Suguru glanced again at the waiting messages in Teams. Two from Haibara and one from Miguel—both in the development department like him. He was lucky to be working with them on this project. They were the best teammates he could ask for. They were both responsible, and even though Haibara was just in his first year in the profession and his overjoyed attitude sometimes left Suguru speechless (seriously, how can anyone be that happy to work?), Miguel’s experience and Suguru’s sense of responsibility kept their trio balanced.

The last chat, with four new messages, was from Mahito. Geto rolled his eyes so forcefully it felt like they might do a full somersault. He's not religious, but God , give him strength. Because, for fuck’s sake. How can this guy get more annoying than he already is?

Mahito was the department head and also one of the clients for the current project. You’d think someone in the field would know how long a task requires and what kind of challenges to expect.

Ha! You wish!

Mahito, despite his position, was the most incompetent, clueless, and simply someone who didn’t give a single fuck about his work or coworkers. But here he was, the department head and the client for their next project—an important one they might present at the next convention to secure a tender for the next year.

But that only meant one thing—overtime and the same impossible deadline: a couple of weeks instead of a couple of months.

And now this motherfucker was demanding in unread messages that they finish a segment by the end of this week, even though it wasn’t due until the end of the month.

A wave of irritation and pure rage washed over Suguru, and for a moment he wanted to call this arrogant fucker and tell him to shove his demands up his ass. But after taking a deep breath, Geto locked his phone and shoved it back into the pocket of his palazzo pants—he’d already forgotten why he took it out in the first place.

With hands trembling from anger, Suguru reached into his other pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He had barely started it yesterday, and it was already more than half-empty.

"Sugu-chaaan!"

He almost dropped the pack at the sound of not one, but two bright, loud voices behind him.

Quickly hiding the cigarettes back in his pocket, he turned just in time to catch two bodies nearly knocking him over with their enthusiasm.

In an instant, all his worries and thoughts about work and deadlines were forgotten as his sisters hugged him from both sides. Suguru smiled softly and returned the hug. He chuckled quietly, patting Mimiko on the head and pulling Nanako closer.

"God, you two are already so big."

"But you saw us not even four months ago," Nanako protested, lifting her head from the embrace. "We can't have grown that much."

He smiled sweetly at her. "But it's true, I swear. You both keep growing every time I don’t see you."

There was something bittersweet in his voice at the end of the sentence. He loved his sisters with all his heart, but seeing them grown and independent always cracked his big-brother heart, while also filling him with pride.

His little girls weren’t so little anymore. They’d soon be heading to university. He could only hope they wouldn’t forget about him during the busy days ahead.

But right now, he was content. With the girls in his arms, he patted their heads and smiled at them again. Then, suddenly remembering something, he ended the embrace and furrowed his brows.

"'Sugu-chan'?" he echoed. "I told you not to call me that."

The girls just laughed, freeing themselves from his arms.

"Oh, come on, it’s not that bad, Sugu-chan~."

"Nanako," he said sternly but without any real edge. Both girls just giggled.

"Okay, okay, no need to grumble, jeez," she waved a hand. "Now, are we going home or what?"

The taxi ride was quick despite it being rush hour. Perhaps the heavens had finally decided to show mercy to Suguru after a few of the shittiest workdays in a row and grant him an uneventful evening.

During the ride, they agreed on how the evening would go. The girls decided that after dinner—which Suguru had promised to prepare as soon as possible—they would all sit together on the couch and watch the latest part of a horror movie franchise. The girls (read: Nanako) assured him that this series was unique in the world of modern horror. They even claimed that the suspense was so good it could make Kubrick jealous.

Well, coming from girls who spent most of their childhood watching horror movies, that sounded convincing—but Suguru still doubted it. Knowing their taste, the film would either be the trashiest, with implausible deaths and terrible CGI, or the most brutal and terrifying. Honestly, Suguru wasn’t sure which of those was worse.

When the taxi reached their building and Geto paid the driver, Mimiko grabbed Nanako’s hand and whispered something in her ear. The other girl nodded quickly and smiled, glancing up at Suguru.

Honestly, it still worried him—Mimiko's shy and reserved nature, even around him. What worried Suguru even more was knowing that soon the girls would be entering university, and he was absolutely terrified that Mimiko might feel even more uncomfortable around new people.

She was smart, kind, and modest. Every time he looked at her, all he saw was his little sister, the one he still wanted to hug and protect from anyone who dared come near her. Just the thought that someone might take advantage of her shyness filled him with pure rage.

On the other hand, there was Nanako—someone who would never let anyone hurt her sister. While that brought some relief, Geto couldn’t shake the thought that sooner or later, Mimiko would have to face the world on her own, without her sister by her side.

Spiraling in his thoughts, he didn’t notice that Nanako had asked him something and was now looking at him with a frown. Shaking his head to dismiss the thoughts, he looked her in the eyes.

“What?”

“I said that we wanted to get some ice cream, ‘cause we know you don’t have any. So we thought about going to the shop right now. Can we?”

“Why do you think I don’t have any ice cream at home?” he arched a brow.

“Oh, please,” Nanako shook her head dismissively. “We know you’re not into that kind of thing.”

“What things?”

“Sweets,” Mimiko said quietly.

Well, that was true. And it still felt a bit awkward that the girls knew him that well. Even yesterday, when he was at the store picking up ingredients to cook dinner for his sisters, he completely forgot about sweets.

“Yeah…” he sighed. “You’re right. Sorry. Well, okay, we can go now. The shop is just down the stre—”

“No, no, no,” Nanako shook her head again. “You’re not going. Just me and Mimi. It’ll take ten minutes max. You don’t need to escort us.”

“How is it even escorting?” he scoffed. “I’m just going with you and—”

“No,” Nanako stated firmly. “You go home and start preparing stew or whatever. We’ll be right back.”

And with that, still hand in hand with Mimiko, they turned and disappeared around the nearest corner. Still flabbergasted, Suguru blinked a few times and swayed on his feet, unsure what to do.

Right. Dinner.

He turned around and headed toward his building, still surprised by the twins’ behavior. Well, he’d have to ask them later what that was about. Maybe just twin things—or maybe they really did want ice cream.

Suguru stopped in his tracks.

What if they had a double date? What if they weren’t going to the shop, but to a café where their dates were already waiting? Suguru was this close to chasing after them to find out the truth, but he stopped himself just in time.

What was he even thinking? These were his girls—they wouldn’t need to lie just to go on some silly date. And even if they were meeting someone, it wasn’t like they were five years old. For heaven’s sake, they were almost seventeen.

Exhaling, Suguru continued on until he reached the elevator.

He pressed the button for the sixth floor, exhaled deeply again, and forced his mind to focus on what lay ahead. The elevator doors had just begun to slide shut when a voice rang out from the hallway.

“Hold the door!”

More command than request. Suguru instinctively reached out and stopped the doors with his hand, watching as a woman stepped in without so much as a glance. She adjusted the collar of her checkered shirt, straightened her already perfect posture, and said nothing.

A few seconds passed in heavy silence. Suguru studied her from the corner of his eye, then finally broke the tension.

“Which floor?”

The woman turned, gave him a quick once-over, then nodded toward the panel.

“The same.”

Strange. He had lived in this building for years and never seen her before.

As the elevator began to rise, silence thickened between them—tight, suffocating. She was dressed in a crisp blue blouse, high-waisted navy trousers, and polished black heels. Office attire, but expensive. The faint scent of designer perfume hung heavily in the air, doing nothing to ease the pressure in Suguru’s chest.

Her hair was short and white, slicked left with a precision undercut. Whoever styled her hair deserved a medal. Or a raise.

Then, just as the elevator hummed past the third floor, realization struck.

Her face—her expression, the way her jaw set.

Only her eyes were wrong. They were a sharp, dark green—not the endless, sky-blue ones Suguru had looked into just last night.

Mother.

A chill ran down his spine. If it had been hard to breathe a moment ago, now it was impossible.

Satoru’s mother.

He remembered the way Satoru had looked when talking to her, the tension in his voice, the bitter detachment. There was no way he knew she was here. And judging by the energy radiating off this woman, this was not a social call.

The elevator finally came to a halt, and as soon as she stepped out, Suguru exhaled like he’d been holding his breath the entire ride.

He too stepped into the corridor, listening as the loud click-click-click of her heels echoed in the empty space. His eyes followed her silhouette as she stopped in front of one of the distant doors. As it turned out, Satoru’s door was on the same side as the elevator, while his own was on the opposite. If the door had opened just as she rang the bell, Suguru would have seen Satoru’s profile.

But there was no answer.

Suguru froze in place, nervously biting his lip. Watching the woman’s clenched jaw and narrowed eyes, he understood that she was determined to see her son—and possibly cause a scene.

Yes, especially if her furious knocking was any indication.

"Open the goddamn door!"

Her cold voice—just like moments earlier when she demanded the elevator be held—now matched the pounding of her fists against the unfortunate door. Even from where he stood, Geto could see her nostrils flare with unfiltered rage.

If Satoru were home, he probably would’ve answered by now. Or maybe he had heard her—and was choosing not to. Either way, the chances of the door opening were shrinking by the second.

Nevertheless, the woman didn’t stop. Her blows only seemed to grow stronger, despite her being much smaller than Suguru.

The sound was becoming unbearable, and Geto was sure the neighbors would call the police if it continued any longer.

Suddenly, the knocking ceased. Suguru watched the woman as she pressed the doorbell more insistently. Her loud voice once again trembled through the empty corridor.

"I swear to God, you better open this fu—"

"I’m sorry, ma’am," Suguru heard himself say. What the fuck are you doing?!

Angry green eyes flashed as they met his brown ones. If looks could kill, he would have dropped dead on the spot. Goosebumps returned. Aside from a raised eyebrow, she didn’t react, so he cleared his throat slightly and continued.

"I just remembered that he’s not home right now."

Good move, champion. Best lie ever.

"Oh yeah?" She didn’t believe it. Yeah, no shit. "And how would you know?"

She stepped away from the door, which had somehow survived her wrath, and the clicking of her heels echoed again through the hallway. She approached him slowly, like a predator stalking prey.

A billion thoughts swirled in Suguru’s mind—from panicked curses at himself for speaking, to concerns about how to protect Satoru from this woman.

But none of them helped him now, in this situation, where he had to come up with something more convincing to make this crazy woman leave.

Was it wrong that he already felt this hostile toward her?

He took a few steps toward her, already opening his mouth to say something—anything—just to break the horrible silence wrapping around the hall.

"Who are you, anyway?" the woman cut in again, interrupting his thoughts. She looked him up and down once more and gave a loud ‘tsk’. Stopping just a few steps away, he now clearly saw the fire in her eyes, ready to burn everything in its path. "I’d never believe my son could choose someone like you to associate with."

The insult wasn’t new, but it still stung. Nevertheless, Geto swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat and held her gaze.

As a teenager, he was often mocked—for his height, his appearance. There wasn’t anything special about how he looked, but bullies always found something to latch onto. Most often, people compared him to a girl because of his long hair and soft features. That quickly evolved into ridicule over his family’s financial struggles and hand-me-down clothes. Then came the slurs—calling him a faggot for getting his ears pierced.

And while the latter was his own decision, and he was prepared to face the consequences, the former always hurt. Especially when it involved his parents. He always blamed himself for those insults. Yes, he was beating the shit out of ‘brave’ guys who dared speak badly about his family, but afterward, he could think of nothing else except how his parents might’ve been better off without him.

Coming to terms with his sexuality in the middle of that chaos didn’t help. He felt broken, wrong, feminine, and violent all at once. And during those lonely nights in his room, he often stayed awake overthinking: was he born this way, or had all the bullying finally caught up to him?

They were dangerous thoughts. At that age, when everything is amplified beyond reason, those thoughts brought him to the edge.

And not just metaphorically—he had considered what it might mean to take one more step.

And that was terrifying.

His parents didn’t know. His friends didn’t know. No one had the slightest idea just how dark it got in his head. Only his therapist ever caught a glimpse—brief moments during Sunday sessions that felt more like confession than conversation.

And he really thought those sessions had helped. He believed he had long buried the idea that something was wrong with him.

But here he was, twenty-five years old, standing in front of a woman he had just met, remembering everything that had almost erased him from the world.

Her sharp index finger painfully dug into his chest.

"Who are you?" she narrowed her eyes. "I can see in your eyes that you know nothing about my son. Just by your appearance, I can tell you’re not even worthy of the dirt under his fingernail. You look like a complete disappointment to your parents!"

As much as it hurt, he forced himself to give her only a crooked smile.

"At least I talk to my parents because I want to, not because I’m forced to."

“You little brat —”

“Enough!”

In all this mess and his thoughts, Suguru hadn’t even noticed when the door of one of the apartments opened. Raising his eyes, he saw messy white hair and furrowed brows. The door clicked softly shut behind him as the boy stepped forward.

Geto noticed the corners of his eyes were red, and Satoru looked far worse than he had the night before. He didn’t know what he wanted more—to vanish and pretend none of this had happened, or to never leave the boy standing in front of him alone again. The way Satoru looked today reminded him too much of his teenage self.

Just the thought that this might be something similar made his blood run cold.

Still frowning, the white-haired boy studied the scene before him. When his blue eyes met Suguru’s, Geto could read only sincere empathy on his face.

When Satoru lowered his gaze to his mother, Suguru noticed how his white lashes brushed softly against his cheeks.

“You have to go,” he said in a calmer voice.

“You don’t dare,” the woman hissed, now ignoring Suguru completely. “You must listen to what I have to say to you. You’re my son. You’re Gojo—”

“Don’t!” he barked. “I’m so done with this. I’m tired of hearing this broken record again and again. If that’s why you’re here—and I’m sure it is—you have to leave. Now.”

“He just insulted your mother, Satoru!” she sputtered.

Well, that was the truth. And Suguru had already opened his mouth to apologize for his inappropriate behavior when Satoru spoke again.

“As if you were saying compliments to him,” he retorted. His cold gaze remained fixed on his mother. “Go. Or I’ll call the cops, and next thing you know, you’ll be banned from entering this building ever again.”

That seemed to be enough. The prospect of never getting near her son again must have shaken her. Suguru didn’t know if Satoru was serious or just trying to scare her off, but he didn’t care.

The woman clenched her jaw, turned around, cast one last threatening glance his way, and walked toward the elevator. When they heard the soft ding at the end of the hall, both Suguru and Satoru exhaled with relief.

“Satoru, I’m so sorry, I…”

In that moment, Suguru was left speechless as the boy before him bowed low.

“Suguru, please accept my apologies for my mother’s behavior. I’m really sorry you had to listen to all that shit.” Suguru saw his fists clench at his sides. His voice wavered as he continued, barely above a whisper, “I know we’ve only spoken once, but I’ll understand if you don’t want anything to do with me now.”

Geto was too stunned to speak. Bwcause, what the hell was he even talking about? Sure, his mother was a piece of work, but did he seriously think Suguru would blame him for what she said?

And that voice… it just broke his heart.

“Hey, Satoru, it’s okay. You hear me?” Satoru still hadn’t risen from his bow. Suguru stepped forward slowly, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. Only then did the boy straighten up—but his eyes stayed downcast. Suguru already found himself missing the sight of those vivid blue eyes. “Come on… look at me.”

Satoru carefully looked up at him, and Suguru could swear his heart skipped a few beats. Those eyes were raw with emotion, but still the most beautiful he had ever seen.

“Don’t say it like it’s your fault.” His shoulders were still tense, and Suguru felt an overwhelming need to fix that. “I have to say, your mother’s quite a bitch.”

Maybe not the smoothest thing to say, but Satoru huffed a laugh, and Suguru counted that as a win.

“Yeah, she really is…” he murmured, closing his eyes. Suguru noticed his lips trembling. “Really, if it’s too much for you—”

“Can I hug you?”

Well, tonight was definitely full of spontaneous choices, and apparently his mouth was living a life of its own. Maybe the shocked expression on Satoru’s face meant it was a dumb thing to say, but then that beautiful blush bloomed on his cheeks, and the white-haired boy gave a small nod.

That was all Suguru needed.

With firm hands, Suguru pulled him into a hug, and within seconds, the tense body in his arms relaxed completely. Satoru took a deep breath and whispered a soft “Thanks” next to his ear. Suguru had to fight off a full-body shiver to avoid seeming any creepier than he already felt.

Hugging Satoru felt good. Suguru never thought such a simple gesture could feel so… right. It was as if everything had fallen into place with that one hug. Like it was the one thing he’d been missing all along.

He was content in this place, with this person. He could’ve stayed like that forever, if the boy in his arms let him. Closing his eyes, he held Satoru closer and felt the boy return the gesture.

“Sugu-chan?”

Oh, talk about timing.

Satoru jumped back as if burned, his eyes wide as he stared at something behind Suguru.

“I told you not to call me that, Nana,” he said with as much calm as he could muster, turning to see his sister standing there.

Sister.

Not sisters.

He raised a brow at her, asking a silent question. She just shrugged and walked straight to her brother, a bag of ice creams in hand.

“Took the stairs, scared of elevators,” she explained calmly.

He just nodded. “I see.”

There was a brief pause before the silence was once again broken—this time by Satoru.

He was flustered, and his eyes looked watery again. Suguru wanted to punch himself for whatever had caused that sad look.

“Eh… I’m… I’m probably… just gonna go home, yeah,” he stuttered. “I’m sorry.”

Standing next to Suguru, Nanako tilted her head slightly. Her eyes were fixed on Satoru as he bowed again—not as deeply this time—and turned to head back to his apartment.

Suguru wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words to fix the situation. Why was he sad again? Had he done something wrong? He looked at Nanako, but the girl just shrugged again and turned on her heels, heading home.

“Nee-chan, can he have dinner with us?”

The small voice came from behind, and Suguru was surprised to see Mimiko standing shyly near the fire exit. The question made Satoru freeze in place, and as dazed as he was, Suguru was grateful for that simple suggestion.

Satoru turned to them, wearing the same dumbfounded expression as Suguru.

“Mimi…”

“Please?” she looked at him with those pleading puppy eyes—eyes his sisters knew he couldn’t resist.

Not that he wanted to.

He looked at Satoru, who was already looking at him. That look wasn’t sad anymore, just… confused. His eyes darted between him and the girls, and his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt.

“If you want to…” Suguru started carefully, and those cerulean eyes landed on him again. “…I’d be happy if you joined us.”

Satoru bit his lip nervously. “Isn’t it…” he trailed off mid-sentence, his eyes flicking nervously between the two girls. It looked like he was carefully choosing his next words, as if afraid of making a wrong assumption. Then realization settled in his eyes, and his features softened. “…a family reunion or something?

Suguru couldn’t help but smile a little at the suggestion. “You could say that. It sort of is, but Mimi invited you, so it’s okay.” The raven-haired boy looked at the other girl. “Nana, are you good with that?”

Nanako sighed, pulled out her phone, and started tapping something on the screen.

“If Mimi’s fine with it, so am I.” She finished tapping, looked at her brother again, and added, “Can we have dinner now? We haven’t eaten since before the train ride.”

Mimiko came closer and stood behind her brother, not quite looking at Satoru, but still addressing him.

“He’s a great cook. You’ll like it.” Then, with a sly smile and zero shame, she added, “At least that’s what his future husband should know, right?”

“Mimi!” Suguru hissed, ears blazing red with embarrassment. At this point, he honestly couldn’t decide who was the bigger menace—her or Nanako.

But Satoru just laughed, and in an instant, all the embarrassment vanished.

God, what a beautiful sound.

He looked so pretty like that—warm cheeks, a small smile on his lips, and little dimples on both sides. This was a far more lively expression than a few minutes ago, and Suguru loved every bit of it.

Geto didn’t have time to dwell on how rushed everything felt, or if inviting him home was too soon, because all those anxious thoughts went quiet when Satoru looked at him tenderly and said in a steady voice:

“Okay, let’s get some dinner.”

Chapter Text

With her slender hand, she quickly turned off the faucet and spun around to face her sister.

“Okay, I love you ’cause you’re my sister and all that, but what the actual fuck was that?”

“Nana!”

The dark-haired girl quickly glanced into the living room, where their brother and that Satoru-guy were currently sitting on the sofa.

The small but rather cozy kitchen was gently lit by a warm, dim glow; beyond the wide windows, the spring sun was already setting.

Over time, their dinner gradually turned into a slightly awkward conversation, as the two guys didn’t quite know what to talk about. But when Nanako took on the role of the chatty hostess, the atmosphere lightened. In just a couple of hours, the sisters managed to get the new guest to open up enough that he was even cracking jokes with the girls — and with Suguru himself.

Once their plates were nearly empty, Satoru — he had asked them not to call him anything else — was already getting ready to leave. But Mimiko stopped him, saying they were planning to watch a movie anyway, so they might as well do it together, like they were all in a ‘tiny movie theater’ , as she put it.

She and Nanako, being polite (on a good day, maybe sixty percent) and well-mannered (fifty-five percent at best), offered to help clean up. Now, with the table long cleared, the leftovers packed into the fridge, and barely any dirty dishes left in the sink, Nanako was glaring daggers at her sister.

Mimiko was, of course, grateful that Nanako had lowered her voice to a whisper — but she was still nervous their brother might overhear. And honestly, she couldn’t tell what was worse: the actual thing Nanako wanted to talk to her about, or the fact that she was swearing so bluntly in their brother’s house when he was literally just a few steps away.

She was also thankful that, since she and her sister had volunteered to clean up after dinner, they were left alone in the kitchen — far from curious ears.

And yet…

Wiping her wet hands on the kitchen towel that hung in its usual place on the oven handle, Mimiko shot her sister a sideways glance.

“Do we need to talk about it now? I think it can wait,” Mimiko said, glancing again toward the living room.

There sat Suguru and that Satoru -guy, chatting pleasantly. For a moment, it felt like time had stopped: her brother looked utterly enchanted, listening to their guest with a gentle smile, drinking in every word — Mimiko hadn’t seen him this content in a long time.

He was sitting facing the guy, one arm resting on the sofa’s armrest, his posture relaxed. All of his attention was fixed on the boy in front of him, who was speaking animatedly. And even though Mimiko could only see his profile — his hair pulled up into the usual bun — she could still clearly see the red tips of her brother’s ears and the soft blush blooming on his cheekbones.

“Look,” she tilted her head toward their brother, “is that not a good enough reason for you?”

Nanako followed her gaze. Several seconds passed before she let out a long sigh and closed her eyes.

“So this is all about him?” There was a clear trace of skepticism and disbelief in her voice. “You think he’s not grown-up enough to make his own choices? Don’t get me wrong — I love you, I really do — but do you have to play matchmaker in this situation? He’s a big boy.”

Mimiko’s brows furrowed sharply at her sister’s words, and she immediately forced herself to relax her face — she wasn’t about to start aging prematurely at sixteen.

“I love you too, Nana, but you’re being kind of stupid right now,” Mimiko sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Hey!”

“You two alright over there?” Suguru was still seated on the couch next to Satoru, but he had now fully turned around, leaning his elbows on the backrest. “What are you arguing about?”

The girls immediately fell silent the moment they drew their brother’s attention, glancing at each other with a flicker of concern. Mimiko feared her sister might decide she’d had enough of this farce and blurt out to their brother that the whole dinner had been a setup — that there was more behind inviting their neighbor than just sharing a meal. But Nanako merely met her sister’s terrified stare, then turned to their brother with the sweetest smile on her face and said:

“Mimi says chips are better for tonight’s movie, but I want caramel popcorn.”

The girls watched as their brother rolled his eyes. He looked from one sister to the other, as if waiting for the real story — certain they had more to tell — but both remained stubbornly silent.

Suguru raised an eyebrow. т“Seriously? That’s what the heated kitchen debate was about?”

Mimiko felt her cheeks flush with heat and quickly turned toward the sink, folding her arms in front of her. She knew it was risky talking about any of this in the kitchen, just a few steps away from the living room — well within earshot.

It was a blessing they hadn’t been overheard, because she had no idea how she would’ve explained the entire situation to her brother. It was a relief that he hadn’t caught a word. That meant she had to stick with the lie Nanako had whipped up in mere seconds — even if it wasn’t the most convincing.

After all, even though they were twins, their personalities and preferences were wildly different — and Suguru knew that for sure. So she had no choice but to stick to the story her sister set in motion.

God help her.

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself down (they didn’t help), clenched her hands nervously, and — still facing away from her brother — Mimiko said quietly:

“I still want chips. They’re the best thing to have during a movie. Way better than sweet popcorn.”

God, what a failure. I really should’ve paid more attention in that damn acting club. Can you die of embarrassment?

Next to her, Nanako let out a loud tsk .

“How do you even go to the movies if you don’t get popcorn?”

Mimiko was just grateful for the change of topic. “Very easily. Especially when your grumpy ass isn’t with me.”

“Oh, really? And when was the last time you went to the movies alone, Mimi-chaaan ?”

Suguru groaned in the background. Satoru giggled beside him.

Mimiko turned toward the sound and caught sight of their brother’s lips curling into a slight smile. It took her only a few seconds to come up with a brilliant plan on what to do next and how to tell Nanako her true motives without any extra ears overhearing.

“But you know, Nana,” the girl began, grabbing her sister’s hand and pulling her toward the genkan. The blonde girl seemed confused for a moment, but then confidently followed Mimiko. “None of us will win this argument.”

“Huh?” Her eyebrows furrowed in a funny way. Mimiko wanted to flick her on the forehead.

“Our brother doesn’t have anything for the movie — I’ve checked everywhere,” Mimiko said as she slipped on her black sneakers, letting go of her sister’s hand and looking up at her brother. “Looks like you forgot the snacks, huh?”

Suguru sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand, avoiding his younger sister’s gaze. A guilty smile froze on his face. “We could order grocery delivery—”

But Mimiko didn’t let him finish. “And wait for about an hour for popcorn and chips? You’re not serious right now, are you?”

Next to her, Nanako had already finished putting on her shoes and, catching the train of her sister’s thoughts, nodded approvingly.

“We’ll just run to the store. Ten minutes there, ten minutes back — and it’s free. Plus, we know exactly what we want, so we’ll be quick.”

Suguru decided not to argue with the sisters because he knew well that once they made up their minds, it would be hard to change them. He definitely didn’t want to start a quarrel over such a small thing, especially with a guest around, so he simply sighed and nodded to the girls.

“All right, money in my wallet in the bowl for the keys,” the girls smiled triumphantly and rushed to the door. “But be quick, it’s already getting dark outside! If you’re not back within half an hour from now, I’ll call the police!”

Mimiko shook her head in disbelief while Nanako laughed out loud.

“We’re sixteen, not six,” the girl put on her denim jacket, and Mimiko threw on her dark sporty sweatshirt over her gray top.

Taking the apartment keys, money, and a small linen bag to throw their purchases into, the girls opened the front door.

Before fully stepping into the hallway, Nanako turned to Suguru, who had been watching them pack all this time, and almost as an afterthought added:

“By the way, mobile phones were invented. No need to call the police right away, jeez.”

The front door slammed loudly behind them.

The final rays of the spring sun blazed brightly in the evening sky. In just a few minutes, the city would be cloaked in complete darkness, but for now, the pink and crimson sky was still cut through by the cries of swallows nesting under the rooftops.

The store was located just around the corner from the street where Suguru lived. The girls were very familiar with the area: this wasn’t their first time visiting their brother, and they often liked to stroll around the neighborhood. The residential complex was located in a quiet part of the city, and they frequently stopped by this particular shop to grab various snacks.

People even recognized them here, although — aside from the fact that they’d already visited this same store earlier today — the last time they’d been here was several months ago.

Mimiko and Nanako were well acquainted with the elderly woman who ran the store. They were always happy to chat with her whenever they had the chance. Like Suguru had been lately, the woman always commented on how much the girls had grown and often wiped tears from her brown eyes. The girls were so used to her presence that they considered her almost like family — a grandmother they’d never had.

Above them, stars had started to glimmer in the darkening sky. From the east, the raspberry hues were giving way to a deep and beautiful navy blue. The ever-shifting palette of colors above their heads reflected now in Nanako’s brown eyes.

She held Mimiko’s hand, and they had been walking in silence for a while. When Nanako noticed that her sister didn’t seem eager to speak, she gently squeezed her hand. Mimiko glanced sideways at her sister, tilting her head slightly in a silent question.

Nanako merely rolled her eyes. Considering how often she’d started doing that lately, she worried they might just pop out of their sockets one day. That would be unfortunate — she liked their color.

“So? Are you going to tell me why you suddenly decided to play Cupid?”

Mimiko hesitated, a faint blush blooming on her round cheeks.

“Sorry... I just don’t know where to start.”

“Start from the beginning,” Nanako replied, turning her gaze forward to give her sister space. Their footsteps echoed loudly on the empty street.

A cyclist zoomed past them.

“Wow, thanks,” the girl said dryly. “Never would’ve figured that out on my own.”

Still, she took another moment to think over the entire situation. They didn’t have much time left, they still had to get to the store and return. And while Mimiko was confident Suguru wouldn’t actually call the cops if they didn’t return in thirty minutes — well, seventy percent sure — she wasn’t eager to test the theory. So, gathering her thoughts and finally deciding where to begin, she gently squeezed her sister’s hand.

“Remember how you went out last night with that guy from biology class?”

“Who? Kono?”

Mimiko resisted the urge to roll her eyes, following her sister’s earlier example. “Did you go on so many dates yesterday that you forgot who you were even with?”

Nanako just snorted.

“Oh, fuck off.” She started swinging their joined hands a little, and after a short pause, continued, “Of course I remember. I thought it would be a halfway decent date, you know? Flowers, maybe a cute walk. But the guy spent the entire night talking about himself, bragging about how all the girls are ‘pissing themselves’ over him — what a wonderful first impression, right? I mean, come on. You ask me out, don’t ask a single question about me, then take me for coffee and I end up paying because you can’t even cover the bill?”

She shook her head in disbelief and let out a long sigh.

“Are you serious?”

“Oh yeah. I even considered ordering one of the expensive desserts while he was in the bathroom and just ghosting out of there before he got back.” She kicked a pebble along the sidewalk, It clinked into a storm drain a few steps away. “And sure, I can be a bitch sometimes, but not that much of a bitch. Maybe he really does have money problems. Or brain problems. Could be either, honestly.”

The girls burst out laughing.

“You’re not a bitch, Nana.”

“I know, Mimi,” she said, giving her sister a warm look. “Anyway, what’s your point?”

Mimiko just hummed under her breath.

“While you were out on what I now understand was a disaster of a date, Nee-chan called home.”

“Really?” Nanako raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Her sister shrugged.

“I wasn’t sure if I should say anything... because I don’t think I was supposed to hear what he was telling Mom,” she squinted. “I kinda accidentally eavesdropped on them.”

Nanako laughed, the sound echoing softly off the surrounding buildings. Lights were flickering on in windows here and there, dusk was settling in.

“And you call yourself the good twin!”

“Oh, shut up! I told you it was accidental!”

“Yeah, yeah, and let’s say I believe you. So, what was this conversation about?”

They turned the corner and within a few quick steps were inside the small convenience store.

The shop was a small family-owned place, and as soon as they stepped through the glass doors, they spotted Grandma Obu standing at the counter. She perked up the moment she saw them.

“Girls! Missing me already?”

The twins giggled, flashing the elderly woman sweet smiles.

“We know you’ve got the best homemade chips, and we’ve got a movie night planned,” Nanako said cheerfully. “So, naturally, the stars guided us here.”

“Oh, Nanako,” the old woman blushed, and her kind face crinkled even more from her wide smile.

“And popcorn too!” Mimiko added brightly. The made-up story about who likes what was completely forgotten.

The old lady chuckled again and pointed toward the shelves in the far corner of the store.

“You’ll find everything there, my dears.”

They weaved past a few refrigerated shelves and finally reached the corner they needed. After picking up a bag of cheese-flavored chips and both caramel and strawberry-flavored popcorn (“I’m telling you, Nana — better get two packs. You saw that guy was only excited about dessert during the whole dinner.”) , they headed to the counter.

On the way, they grabbed a couple of cans of Sprite for Suguru — since they weren’t old enough to buy beer — and a melon soda for their guest, based entirely on Mimiko’s guess about his possible taste in sweet drinks.

“If this guy doesn’t drink it,” Nanako hissed, pulling the melon soda from the top shelf and nearly losing her balance, “I swear, I’ll pour it over your head.”

For themselves, the girls chose peach juice.

After paying and saying their goodbyes to Obu — promising to visit more often — they stepped back outside, arms linked once more. By then, the swallows had gone quiet, the sun had disappeared below the horizon, and the sky had turned completely navy blue; stars now found their place on the canvas above.

The dark streets were lit by bright streetlamps.

Mimiko glanced at her phone. They were still within the time limit — moving even faster than Suguru had expected — but she hadn’t finished her story yet.

“This might take a while,” she admitted aloud, shooting her sister a look.

“I’m all ears.”

They walked a few more quiet steps.

“So... we stopped at the part where I — accidentally! — overheard Mom and Nee-chan talking.”

Nanako laughed again at the extra emphasis Mimiko put on `accidentally.` Mimiko chose to ignore it.

“Mom was washing the dishes in the kitchen,” Mimiko continued. “It was a late dinner, you know how she gets sometimes. I was just about to step out of my room and help her clean up, but there she was — glued to the sink, doing everything herself.”

Mimiko slowed her pace, and Nanako matched her step, keeping in sync. A light linen bag filled with snacks and drinks hung from her shoulder.

“Suguru was on speaker, because, well, you know how Mom hates talking on the phone and washing dishes at the same time.”

Nanako nodded silently this time. From Mimiko’s posture, she could tell the next part was harder for her to say. The girl’s brows furrowed — Nanako had the sudden urge to press a finger between them and smooth out the wrinkle. Frowning just didn’t suit her.

“He was talking about a terrible day at work, how everything was falling apart, and he sounded so upset, Nana, his voice... I’ve never heard him that drained before. If I didn’t know it was our twenty-five-year-old brother on the phone, I’d have thought it was some old man in his fifties, fed up with life.”

“He overworked himself,” the blonde girl murmured.

“Exactly,” Mimiko nodded. “By the time Mom finished the dishes, I could hear their conversation more clearly.” At that confession, the tips of her ears flushed red. And even though it was already dark and the streetlight didn’t shine too brightly, Nanako still noticed.

“Oh, come on, now that’s not what I’d call accidental eavesdropping,” she said, raising her hands and making air quotes. The chips crinkled in the bag under her arm. “Just admit you were intentionally listening and didn’t even feel guilty about it!”

“Fine!” Mimiko’s voice rose. “Yes, I listened, and no, I don’t feel guilty! At least this way I can actually hear what’s going on in our brother’s heart!”

For a moment after Mimiko stopped talking, the world around them seemed to freeze. That kind of silence where you could hear a pin drop meters away.

Nanako’s teasing gaze softened. She stopped, gently tugging her sister to a halt as well. Mimiko could see the same concern on her sister’s face that always weighed heavy on her own heart whenever they talked about this.

They both often tried to ignore that chapter of Suguru’s life. And more often than not — they managed to, because back then, they had been just kids, barely nine years old. Around that time, they began to notice Suguru eating less, and sleeping even less. The circles under his eyes grew so large it felt like one day they might swallow his whole face. He barely spoke to their mother, and he almost completely stopped talking to them.

Before that, they used to love sneaking into his room in the evenings, watching horror movies late at night (even though Mom had forbidden it) cuddled up on either side of their older brother, who would simply stroke their heads and smile sincerely.

But one evening, when they snuck into his room just like before, they heard quiet sobs in the darkness — and words that still frightened them to remember:

“I’m… wrong.”

Later, they learned it had all started long before they began noticing changes in their brother. Once, in adulthood, during a heated conversation with their mother, Suguru let slip that it had begun back in his early school years — and Mimiko still remembered the chill that ran down her spine. He didn’t elaborate, changed the subject, never brought it up again — but in that moment, both girls saw it in his eyes: they might’ve been too late. They could’ve lost him forever.

They knew Suguru kept most things locked inside, and only God knew what truly went on in his head. And now, when he finally spoke openly — not out of impulse or momentary emotion, but after years of therapy — they clung to every tiny thread, every fragile bridge that might lead to the part of his soul he kept hidden from everyone.

Nanako reached out and gently wiped a tear that had quietly rolled down Mimiko’s cheek.

“Mimi…”

Mimiko didn’t even notice when she started crying, but she quickly wiped her tears away and, turning away from Nanako, kept walking.

For a while, silence fell again. Mimiko felt her sister squeeze her left hand. She squeezed back softly. Taking a deep breath, she continued — but in a quiet voice.

“And even though Mom had already turned off the water, for some reason she didn’t take her phone off speaker. She just stood there, listening as he spoke in that same tired voice about how all their project deadlines were burning, and that jerk Mahito didn’t want to hear a word about them not finishing everything before June.”

“They still haven’t fired that asshole?” Nanako whispered.

“Looks like not.I hope he gets hit by a damn car someday.” Nanako laughed at her sister’s words, her bright voice echoing in the empty streets. “But at that moment, Mom cut him off and told him to tell her more about how he was feeling, that she knew work was wearing him down. She even told him about our dinner, and said she hadn’t expected him to call.”

“Yeah, that surprised me too, as soon as you said it,” the blonde girl added. “Usually Sugu-chan just texts.”

Mimiko sniffled quietly again. “Yeah, but when Suguru spoke again, there was something different in his voice. Then he admitted, though pretty reluctantly, that he was inspired to call. Not forced — inspired, can you imagine? After that pause, I was sure Mom was just as shocked as I was. After a while, she joked, asking who she should thank for her son finally deciding to call, and then Nee-chan said it.”

Nanako didn’t take her eyes off her sister, who had stopped again and was looking right at her. She smiled softly and raised her head to the sky. The stars flickered brightly above them, and in this part of the city, with almost no lights, you could even see the Amanogawa slowly getting brighter against the dark canvas.

“His voice was still tired, but… satisfied? I don’t know. He told her he ran into his neighbor that evening under pretty strange circumstances. I could hear that he felt awkward sharing it, and he probably still thinks Mom or we’ll judge him for his choice, but he said he’d never seen eyes so honest yet so sad. There was something about a weird hair color and a unique look in general, but I stopped listening after that. That little bit of hope that… maybe… his voice just sounded like… like he’d found something he was too scared even to dream about.”

Mimiko lowered her head, looking away from the flickering stars in the sky, and glanced back at her sister’s face. She knew they looked alike — twins, duh — but she was sure she was looking into a mirror right now: the same girl with wide-open eyes, tears gathering in the corners, furrowed brows, and a barely-there smile; just with lighter hair.

At that moment, Nanako let go of her hand and hugged her tightly. Mimiko returned the gesture.

“When I saw him today, I immediately knew he was the same guy Nee-chan was talking about. I don’t think I could’ve mistaken him for anyone else.” She closed her eyes and hugged her sister tighter. “Sorry for ruining our evening. It`s supposed to be just the three of us.”

Mimiko felt more than heard Nanako laugh. The girl hugged her sister even tighter in response.

“Don’t apologize,” her voice was soft. Then, more jokingly, she added, “otherwise we’d still be sitting there listening to how Mahito annoy the fuck out of him.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me.” Mimiko grumbled. “I’ve never met that guy in person, but with the passion Sugu-chan talks about him, I feel like I know what a piece of shit he is from personal experience.”

The girls laughed together again, and though the sound was a little wet, no one said a word.

Nanako pulled away first and took her sister’s hand again. “But now it feels like we’re stuck witnessing our big brother and his poor neighbor silently going crazy over each other all night.”

She tried to sound disappointed, but Mimiko could see her amused smile. She gently squeezed her sister’s hand in a silent ‘thank you’, and they both resumed walking.

The dark-haired girl glanced at her phone; they had less than five minutes left to get home.

“We need to hurry,” she said aloud. “We don’t have much time, and we still have to climb the stairs — there’s no way I’m taking the elevator.”

Nanako let out a frustrated groan that echoed through the empty streets.

Chapter Text

Suguru felt an overwhelming sense of relief when, less than half an hour later, he heard the key turning in the front door lock — his girls were finally home. Sure, he hadn’t been entirely serious when he threatened the twins with the police ( probably ), but it was still nice to see they’d taken his warning to heart and arrived back on time.

His brows furrowed in confusion: the girls looked noticeably more... upset? It seemed like they might have even been crying. But as soon as their faces turned toward him, they both lit up with sincere smiles, so Suguru decided not to press them — though he did make a mental note to ask later what had happened while they were out.

As soon as they kicked off their shoes at the genkan and started unpacking their shopping bags onto the coffee table in front of the TV, the apartment was filled once again with the usual warm energy and cheerful noise of the twins and Satoru chatting away.

When Mimiko had suggested earlier that Satoru stay for dinner, Suguru had been genuinely surprised. The twins rarely showed affection toward anyone; he still remembered just how distrustful they’d been when Miguel first entered his life. It had taken them months — and countless gifts and sweets from Miguel — for them to stop glaring at him like they were one wrong move away from taking him out.

To Miguel’s credit, he’d taken all of Mimiko’s cold stares and Nanako’s biting remarks in stride, and later, when he and Suguru would grab a drink together, he’d laugh nervously and refer to that time as “the toughest friendship audition of my life.” Not that he had many other friends to compare it to, but still.

So the way the twins had warmed up to Satoru? Totally unexpected.

Even now, watching from the sidelines as Satoru and Nanako bickered playfully, with Mimiko laughing softly but genuinely, Suguru could hardly believe his eyes. And when it suddenly hit him that Satoru fit into their little family like he’d always been a part of it, Suguru couldn’t help but feel a flicker of nerves. It was all happening so effortlessly, so naturally, he could barely trust it was real.

Suguru knew his tendency to overthink, knew that any joy he felt now could easily twist into something else entirely later. But right now? He couldn’t stop the thoughts.

He was scared of the possibilities. Of the what-ifs, the potential buts. Of the uncertainty of the future, the lack of control.

Satoru looked so relaxed and at ease, like he was completely in his element, that Suguru’s brain immediately started feeding him scenarios: this is temporary, this is just one perfect evening. It would all end as soon as the night did, and they’d go back to their separate apartments like nothing happened.

It was too perfect — so perfect that Suguru was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. He hadn’t smiled once since his brain kicked into full-blown pessimism mode, and honestly, he wanted nothing more than to groan and melt into the couch.

Suguru closed his eyes and tried to do the breathing exercises his therapist had taught him, when slender arms wrapped around him from behind and someone’s chin rested on his left shoulder.

When he opened his eyes again, Nanako and Satoru were now arguing about which movie to watch, and Suguru caught himself thinking that they interacted and behaved like they’d known each other their whole lives, not just one short evening.

“You’re doing that dumb thing again,” Mimiko whispered into his ear.

“What thing?”

“Thinking,” she flicked his ear with one hand, causing Suguru to grumble in protest. “It’s okay, Sugu-chan, nothing’s happened yet for you to start panicking.”

Yet , he keeps reminding himself.

He placed his right hand over the girl’s, which were still loosely wrapped around his neck, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I know, Mimi, but it’s…” he exhaled slowly, “it’s not as easy to stop as you think.”

She hummed softly into his ear, and he more felt than saw her subtle nod. “But isn’t it better to worry about things that actually happened, rather than the ones that haven’t?”

He let out a small huff of laughter. “That logic’s a bit questionable, Mimi.”

The girl shrugged. “In your overthinking, I can’t find any logic either.”

Touché.

They stayed in that position for a while longer, watching Satoru and Nanako, who were still chatting animatedly about the movie. Suguru was surprised by how suddenly their argument had taken such an unexpected turn — no wonder no one was paying attention to his conversation with Mimiko. While earlier they had been debating which horror movie to watch that evening, now Satoru was eagerly convincing Nanako that if Lily from Harry Potter had chosen Snape from the start, none of the tragedy would have happened.

Wow.

Even Suguru was left speechless by that statement.

Mimiko quietly giggled in his ear and almost completely removed her hands from his neck. The boy turned his head toward his sister and met the warm gaze of her brown eyes. She gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his shoulder.

“Just don’t be an idiot, and don’t forget to get his phone number,” she whispered at last before heading to her sister. With a loud protest, she took the TV remote from her and started scrolling through Netflix recommendations. Nanako visibly pouted, and Satoru laughed loudly and clearly.

Suguru felt the tips of his ears grow hot. Even years later, he never got tired of being surprised at how in one second Mimiko could be such a sweet girl, and in the next — a completely menace.

Across from him, he caught Satoru’s gaze, whose face shone with genuine joy, as if for the first time in his life he was exactly where he was meant to be. The overjoyed grin slowly slipped from his face, replaced by that soft smile Suguru had witnessed for the second time that evening, and he couldn’t do anything but mirror it.

Maybe he really should enjoy the present now.

The movie night ended with the girls falling asleep on the couch, tangled up in each other, after making the guys move to the floor. Satoru didn’t mind. Although technically he was also a guest in the house, and Suguru still had a free armchair where he could comfortably sit, he politely declined the offer and shyly took a spot shoulder to shoulder with Suguru on the floor.

When the credits started rolling on the screen, Suguru reached for the remote that was still hanging from Mimiko’s hand above the floor and turned off the TV completely.

For a moment, the apartment was plunged into complete silence, and the only sound was the soft, steady breathing of the girls, who had clearly spent most of the movie in Orpheus’s realm – the exhaustion from the trip was obvious.

Satoru stretched beside Suguru, and the latter sadly realized that it was already time to wrap this evening up.

He gently cleared his throat, trying to find his voice after more than two hours of silence, and cautiously glanced at the other boy.

Satoru was just turning to him with a somewhat guilty smile.

“It’s late, so I guess I’ll head out,” he whispered, not wanting to wake the twins. Though Suguru was sure that given their exhaustion, they wouldn’t have woken up even if someone blasted Rammstein at full volume.

Suguru simply nodded and gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Honestly, he didn’t want the evening to end, but he didn’t know what else to say.

Satoru got up from the floor, and Suguru followed him to the genkan. Satoru was already putting on his shoes and turned back to Suguru with that constant smile on his face that had been there most of the evening.

“That was a wonderful evening, really,” he said aloud once they were out of earshot of the girls, “I don’t remember the last time I laughed this much. I’m grateful you invited me, and you really have amazing sisters.”

At the mention of Mimiko and Nanako, and how much Satoru truly enjoyed spending time with his family, Suguru’s heart suddenly filled with an overwhelming warmth. The same warmth touched his eyes as he smiled at the boy across from him.

“I’m the one who should thank you for the company, but...”

Suguru fell silent, trying to find the words to keep the conversation going without sounding like a complete creep. Deep down, though, he was convinced that no matter what he said, it would be hard to top everything that had happened that evening. Yes, he had definitely outdone himself today.

A slight panic, harsh words towards Satoru’s mother, awkward hugs. 

So yes, a whole package of things that could have gone wrong. Yet, Suguru wanted to know more, wanted to talk more, to listen to the other boy’s laughter until exhaustion fully took over and he drifted into the world of dreams.

Okay, that’s totally creepy behavior.

Sure, maybe they didn’t connect from the first sentence or the first glance, but finally Geto had found someone with whom he felt like a fish in water. Maybe their first meeting was somewhat absurd (and probably their second too), but the more time Suguru spent in Satoru’s company, the more he realized he didn’t want it to ever end.

This evening, no matter how long or pleasant it was, ended in the blink of an eye.

As Suguru gathered his thoughts, the smile immediately faded from Satoru’s face.

“Is something wrong?” he asked cautiously. “I know I can be, well, you know... too much. Sorry if it made you uncomfortable, or maybe I crossed the line when talking to the girls. Oh God, I really crossed the line, didn’t I? And they were just being polite to me, I’m such an idiot—”

“Satoru.” 

The sound of his name made him stop mid-sentence and lift his cerulean eyes, which he had closed in uncertainty, toward Suguru. Geto smiled warmly again and, out of an old nervous habit, shoved his hands into his pants pockets.

“I just really — and I mean really —  enjoyed this evening,” Suguru continued, “and I just… ugh, this might sound really strange, but… can I walk you home?”

For a few long beats, silence fell. Satoru, with his slightly open mouth, just blinked silently with his endless eyes at Suguru before collecting himself.

“But I… I live at the end of the hall.”

His voice sounded restrained and cautious, as if explaining to a toddler that you can’t hit other kids with a plastic car just because they want to play with it; as if Suguru had just said something incredibly dumb.

Which, honestly, wasn’t that far from the truth.

“Yeah,” breathed the other boy, “yeah, I know. But… I still want to walk you home.”

For a few seconds, Satoru just silently stared at Suguru with his blue eyes, then smiled uncertainly. Suguru only then noticed the single dimple on his left cheek.

Cute .

“Oh, Suguru, are you so scared I’ll get kidnapped? But I’m a big boy, you know, I can stand up for myself,” he teased, his confidence restored.

Suguru shrugged, deciding to play along. “Oh, I know that, Satoru. But even a big and strong boy like you sometimes needs someone to keep an eye on him.”

Satoru’s coy smile grew sharper despite the faint blush blooming on his cheeks. 

“And you think you can be the one to ‘keep an eye’ on me?”

Suguru found confidence in the reaction from the other boy. “Oh, I don’t think — I’m sure.”

There was another beat of silence and an exchange of meaningful glances. Then, with cheeks even redder than before, Satoru broke eye contact and opened the door.

“We’ll see.”

The hallway was dimly lit and quiet. The boys’ footsteps echoed in the empty hall. Suguru kept a little distance from Satoru, savoring those last seconds they were spending together.

They walked in complete silence, only breaking it when they stopped in front of a door marked with golden numbers 97. Suguru no longer remembered exactly what was said but knew for sure he couldn’t take his eyes off those endless blue and the lovely blush still lingering on the other boy’s face.

He was certain they had quietly laughed about something, and that laughter echoed down the empty hallway. He knew Satoru had definitely said ‘thank you ’ to him but couldn’t quite understand what for. He knew they had said goodbye s and goodnight s to each other, and with that, the blond boy disappeared into his apartment.

It all felt like in some strange trance, under some unusual, otherworldly magic. One moment he was standing in front of a closed door, and the next — breathing in the cool spring air on the shared balcony on their floor.

He fumbled in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter — one he’d actually remembered to bring this time. After quietly closing the door behind him, he took a few steps forward and stopped. A small smile crept onto his face, one that gradually stretched into a broad grin.

In front of him stood the same leather couch from the night before. It looked just as out of place as it had the last time Suguru had seen – and sat on – it. But that wasn’t what made him smile. Directly across from the couch, closer to the balcony railing, stood a small round iron coffee table. And sitting right on top of it — a glass ashtray.

Still smiling broadly, Suguru shook his head. He pulled out a cigarette from the pack and flicked the lighter to light it. Once the bitter smoke filled his lungs, he finally sat down on the couch and slowly exhaled.

For a while, he just sat there, staring up into the star-filled sky, letting the cigarette smolder quietly between his fingers. The smile slowly faded from his face. With another drag, he tapped the ash into the new ashtray and leaned back against the couch, eyes closed. The leather creaked softly beneath him.

"Sorry, Mimi," the boy said into the quiet of the spring night, "your brother really is an idiot after all."

The following days were packed, and no matter how much Suguru wanted it, he just couldn’t find the time to get his neighbor’s phone number.

First, there were the twins.

Their stay with him felt like it ended way too fast. One moment they were there, excited about their new gifts, taking selfies with him, and trying pancakes at a new café in the busier part of the city – and the next, they were packing their bags to go home.

The girls didn’t bring up his neighbor again, and he was partially grateful for that. If he had heard even one word from Nanako — or worse, a “So, how did it go?” from Mimiko — he’d have spiraled straight into a pit of self-pity with no way out.
While the girls were still around, he managed to shove the whole thing into the back of his mind and not think about it too much.

Once they left and the dry scent of concrete and old dust still hadn’t faded from his clothes, Suguru threw himself into work, and the days melted into one another again.
While the twins were staying over, he had been working from home, often finishing on time (which was already weird for Getou) or even earlier (even weirder), just to spend more time with them. But now, he couldn’t ignore Mahito’s pissed-off calls and the dumbass edits that required his direct involvement.

Miguel and Haibara were holding the line like champs and even assured him that things weren’t as bad as he might imagine, but the moment Suguru stepped back into the office and got hit with a full load of bullshit, he realized they’d seriously sugarcoated just how much of a dick their boss really was and how royally fucked things were at work.

Only three days back in the office, and he already wanted to spit in Mahito’s smug face during a meeting just to wipe that “I’m so fucking brilliant and you’re all shit” look off of him, but he barely managed to hold himself back.

If it weren’t for Haibara’s endless optimism (and Miguel’s hand on his shoulder), Suguru wasn’t sure what the fuck he might’ve done.

He knocked back some pills to calm his nerves and dull the headache that followed the meeting.

He desperately needed either to schedule an emergency session with his therapist or smash Mahito’s arrogant fucking face in.

Suguru was leaning toward the latter.

All of it had him tightly wound and neck-deep in work; there was simply no time for Satoru.

Or so he liked to think.

Anything to keep the thought from creeping in that he was just a goddamn coward.

All of that went straight out the window the second he stepped into his apartment at nine in the evening, left his shoes in the genkan, and dropped onto his living room sofa with a loud ‘oof’.

He listened to the silence of his apartment, to the faint ticking of the clock, and then — to the beat of his own heart, which, with every pulse, seemed to be chanting: idiot, idiot, idiot.

He had one single job. Just one.

To get his neighbor’s number — a neighbor who, Suguru was convinced by then, actually liked him back.

But he couldn’t even fucking manage that.

Theoretically, Suguru understood it wasn’t the end of the world.

For fuck’s sake, they literally lived on the same floor, he could walk ten steps, knock on door 97, flash his best smile, and ask for his number, or hell, just talk in person.

And, okay.

That was actually doable. So doable that, one day — almost right after Mimiko and Nanako left that Sunday evening — he found himself standing in front of that apartment door and even knocked.

It felt too soft, so he knocked again, louder.

He stood there for a few minutes, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, then tried once more.

There was no answer.

Not wanting to push his luck any further, he went back to his apartment, feeling… well, like shit, to put it lightly.

Of course, he hadn’t really expected the guy to open the door the second his knuckles touched the wood, but… he kinda did .

And that was fucking stupid, honestly.

Stupid to believe that just because he made the smallest move, the other guy would come running. But also stupid to feel so disappointed when it didn’t happen. When they were literally nothing to each other. When they’d only seen each other twice in their lives. When all they did was have a great evening, joke around, share childhood stories, and flirt a little…

Yeah. All of it was stupid.

And yet.

When the workdays blended into one endless loop, Suguru tried not to think about how, despite the utter shitshow that was his life, he still had hope.

He tried to shove it deep into a metaphorical locked box inside his heart, seal it with ten locks, and toss it somewhere between the compartments labeled “real feelings” and “dreams of a happy future and mutual love.”

The irony being that this ‘hope’ in the shape of one blue-eyed boy was so tightly tangled with both.

One evening, when the girls called him over video chat, the question he had been dreading finally came — “How’s Sato-chan?”

They’d started calling him that that night, and apparently hadn’t stopped since. When the twins first said it, Suguru had told them it was impolite, but Satoru just waved it off and said he actually liked it — no one had ever given him a nickname before. He still could hear his mocking voice: “ It sounds like we’re one big family, Sugu-chaaan~”

Girls laughed so much, they ended up in tears.

Even Suguru chuckled after a few seconds of stunned disbelief.

Now, it wasn’t funny anymore.

He brushed off the question and quickly redirected the conversation to something else: work, deadlines, Mahito.

He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about it. 

More than anything, he wanted to tell his sisters that everything was fine, that things were good between them—

But there was no them , and most likely never would be.

The girls understood — of course they did — and they stopped mentioning Satoru altogether. But their faces, especially Mimiko’s, haunted him for days afterward. She hadn’t said a single word for the rest of the call, and he couldn’t tell whether she was mad at him… or something else.

In the rare moments when work wasn’t frying his brain and Mahito wasn’t shredding his nerves, when he had a few minutes to be alone with his thoughts, he always came back to that night.

To the laughter, the easy smiles, the tiny dimple on his left cheek and the flush that colored his face.

And when the good memories inevitably ran out, he started spiraling.

He blamed himself for everything, faulting his bluntness or clumsy actions. One evening, it was his comment about the other guy’s mother (calling her a bitch? you’re a real heartbreaker, Suguru); another evening, it was his awkward hug in the quiet hallway. At some point, he even convinced himself that the other guy was ignoring him because, during those two days they’d spent together, he had shown himself as nothing but a stuttering mess, not a normal person.

Because that’s what he thought, right? Satoru was ignoring him.

Still, he knew where Suguru lived, he had literally been in his apartment. so it was probably hard to forget they were neighbors. He could have come to see him, but he just decided to ignore him, and Geto couldn’t even find a reason why not.

Lost in constant self-criticism and exhaustion, Suguru barely noticed when three weeks passed. It was then that he saw Satoru again.

It was a Saturday evening, somewhere during the first days of summer.

Suguru, Miguel, and Haibara finally finished the project Mahito had demanded from them. They barely managed to complete it on time, thanks to two sleepless nights Suguru spent editing everything to perfection. Of course, there were still mistakes, but at least nothing grandiose — nothing he’d been afraid of from the start.

Their work would be showcased at the exhibition (under Mahito’s name, of course), just as planned. The only thing Suguru regretted was that he didn’t purposely slip in some code to fuck everything up during the demo, but that’s a whole other story.

Saturday night — if you could call the second hour of the morning that — was a blessing, because he finally felt free from constant meetings and humiliations from the boss when he saved the final version of the project and sent it to Makhito.

No response, of course, because the fucker was sound asleep while Suguru was working like a maniac, but whatever. After this project, he’d already prepared his resignation letter, and if Yaga wanted to keep him as a valuable employee, after the exhibition, he’d face a tough choice — who was more important to him of the two.

But he was sure that if he left, Miguel and Haibara would quit too. He’d heard more than once that he was the only thing keeping them in that company.

The dark room was lit only by the moon; the laptop screen had gone dark while Suguru sat there with his face in his hands, processing the fact that his nightmare was finally over. At least one of them.

With a long, drawn-out exhale, he closed the laptop, felt around the table for an almost empty pack of cigarettes, and headed to the shared balcony; the last thing he needed now was to smoke inside the room where he still planned to fall asleep.

The balcony greeted him with cool night air and the leather sofa, at the sight of which something unpleasant twisted in Suguru’s chest.

He flopped down on the couch and groaned quietly. His head had been pounding nonstop for the past hour, and smoking now probably wasn’t the smartest move, but he couldn’t help himself. It felt like if nicotine didn’t hit his system in the next two minutes, he’d fucking die.

Without opening his eyes, he blindly fumbled open the pack, pulled out one of the last cigarettes, and clenched it between his teeth. Tossing the pack onto the coffee table, he reached into his shorts pocket for a lighter, but suddenly froze. Still with his eyes shut tight and quietly repeating to himself “no, please” , he searched his right pocket, then his left. Groaning louder, he dug the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“Fuck,” he murmured, “fuck, fuck, fuck !”

And then it happened.

He heard a soft flick behind him — how funny that he even recognized that fucking metal lighter ! — and then — a soft voice. The one he’d been dreaming about all these weeks.

“Need a hand?”

Suguru turned so fast toward the voice that he nearly twisted his neck. It only cracked lightly, but he felt a sharp muscle pull and cursed under his breath.

“Easy,” the same gentle voice said softly. The guy behind it finally stepped closer and gave a slight nod toward Suguru. “Mind if I sit?”

Suguru was almost at a loss for words. Almost.

“It’s your couch, Satoru.”

And oh , how good it felt to say his name out loud — not just inside his head, replaying the wildest scenarios, wondering what he’d done wrong. Saying it aloud finally convinced Suguru that everything that happened those two days wasn’t a dream or some sick fantasy.

He almost smiled when Satoru sat down near him, but unborn thoughts were quickly drowned out by old, bitter ones. Yeah, this wasn’t a dream or imagination. Satoru was real.

And the fact that he’d ignored him for three weeks — real too.

The taste of bile rose in his throat with every passing second.

Satoru flicked the lighter again — it had gone out at some point during their conversation — and shifted closer. Suguru’s eyes bounced between the small flame between them and Satoru’s gaze. They were just as azure and endless as he remembered last time, but… a little sad.

Suguru silently leaned forward and, catching the flame on the cigarette, took a drag to light it up. Taking a deep breath and settling back into his spot, he exhaled the smoke away and whispered a quiet ‘thanks’.” Satoru, sitting beside him, pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them.

For a few minutes, only silence lingered between them, broken occasionally by Suguru’s drags from the cigarette. He looked away from the starry sky, grabbed his pack still lying on the table, opened it, and offered it to Satoru.

“Oh, no,” the guy said hesitantly, “thanks.”

Suguru shook his head, giving the other a brief look. “Don’t mind that it’s the last one, I don’t care. I’ll buy a new pack tomorrow anyway.”

The white-haired guy raised his hands in front of him, waving them quickly. “No, it’s not that— I… I don’t smoke.”

That made Suguru pause mid-drag and look at him with disbelief.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m telling the truth!” The guy pouted.

Suguru, still expressionless, raised an eyebrow. Smoke curled around his lips as he spoke.

“You’re literally holding some sickass overpriced lighter with delicate engraving. I get that it’s a bit much for regular cigarettes, that thing’s more for cigars at least, but it’s still hard to believe what you’re saying.”

That comment earned him the same clear, ringing laughter he thought he’d never hear again. Suguru’s heart tightened in his chest once more, but this time with a different feeling.

“Yeah, it was kinda ‘pricey,’” he said between laughs, “but it was a gift, so I think you can forgive me for going all in on it.”

Suguru stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray and caught out of the corner of his eye that the corners of Satoru’s lips twitched into a smile.

“A gift?”

“Mhm, for my uncle. But he died before I had a chance to give it to him.” The boy’s voice lost any trace of joy, and the smile on his face turned from happy to sad. “He was a good guy, you know. He always supported me, unlike my parents. And he talked with me, joked with me, laughed, and—” he stopped himself and cleared his throat, visibly embarrassed. “Yeah. He was… yeah. He was everything my parents never could be in their whole lives. And it’s a stupid habit, but when I miss him, I always play with this lighter.”

Silence stretched between them. 

Suguru wanted to say something, but he couldn’t.

First, because words like “I’m sorry” or “my condolences” sounded painfully fucking dumb, even in his own head. Second, because he had no clue how to interpret this sudden outburst of honesty from the other guy.

Three weeks.

Three weeks he hadn’t seen him, hadn’t heard a single damn word. Three weeks Suguru had been replaying those two nights over and over again in his head, like a broken record stuck on the same damn track.

Three weeks spent overanalyzing, wondering what the hell he did wrong — if he scared the guy off, if he’d misread the whole situation, if his confidence in mutual feelings had been just another fucking delusion.

Of course. I mean, how else could it go? You’re just a regular straight guy – how the fuck else would you react when some gay dude starts flirting with you?

At one point over those hellish three weeks, Suguru even convinced himself that maybe Satoru had only accepted his dinner invitation out of politeness.That he’d just played along to avoid hurting anyone’s feelings, then tossed the whole thing aside like some awkward misunderstanding best forgotten.

Satoru cleared his throat again, quietly this time.

“How are Mimiko and Nanako?”

And that — that was absolutely not something Suguru’s sleep-deprived, emotionally-fucked brain was prepared to deal with at 2 a.m., after weeks and weeks of spiraling thoughts, constant work overload, and now two nights in a row without sleep.

There were no coherent thoughts left in his head — only static.

The edges of his vision blurred, whether from exhaustion or the sheer fucking absurdity of this moment.

He didn’t even know if he wanted to laugh or cry anymore. Maybe both.

The question hung in the air, so wildly out of place it felt like a slap. Somewhere deep in the corner of what was left of his sanity, Suguru felt a flicker of oncoming hysteria.

“Is this some kind of shitty joke?” he asked, voice hoarse.

A ll he got in return was a slight shake of the head and furrowed brows.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

And that — that made Suguru laugh.

Loudly.

But there wasn’t even a shred of joy in it. Only bitterness.

“Unbelievable,” he breathed.

All those weeks of bottled-up frustration came out in a long, heavy exhale, and Suguru dragged a hand down his face, suddenly so fucking tired. He closed his eyes, he couldn’t even look at that face across from him anymore. That face, full of nothing but clueless confusion.

“Three weeks of radio silence, Satoru. Three ,” Suguru continued, still not daring to meet his gaze. “And — what? Now you wanna talk about the girls?” There was another dry, humorless chuckle. “Whoah. Didn’t know you were that good of an actor.”

“What?”

The question was quiet, and the voice — so hurt — it finally forced Suguru to drop his hand and with a furious glare, he looked Satoru dead in the eyes.

“All I said is that you don’t need to pretend you care. You played your role as a good — friend? acquaintance? — three weeks ago and that’s it. You’re clearly better off alone, as I see it, so just drop the act.”

And maybe it came out too harsh. Maybe it wasn’t entirely fair to Satoru. But how the hell else was he supposed to interpret that kind of behavior?

Suguru was used to people treating him like someone to avoid at best — or walk all over at worst. He’d long accepted that version of human nature. But what truly knocked the air out of him was Satoru .

This was a new kind of pain — the kind where one night someone treats you like a real friend, makes you believe everything’s okay… and then goes on pretending you don’t even exist.

It hurts.

It hurts so fucking much, he wants nothing more than to end this whole damn farce and move the hell on — or maybe, just maybe, hurt the other guy as much as he’s been hurting.

So it’s more than a little strange when what he hears in return isn’t yelling. Isn’t swearing. Isn’t Satoru standing up and walking out the door and out of his miserable fucking life.

No.

It’s his beautiful face scrunching up — at first with a soft, disbelieving chuckle… and then louder. 

Hysterical.

And with every second of that laughter, Suguru feels something in the pit of his stomach — no, in his gut — twist, tighten. Something is wrong.

So very fucking wrong.

And he’s proven right the very next moment, when the laughter breaks into a sob and then a full-body breakdown.

All Suguru can do in that moment is sit there, mouth slightly open, watching as the other boy cries in front of him — violently, helplessly — still smiling like a madman .

And when the sobs finally die down, leaving only the tears as the last reminder of his breakdown, Satoru just gives a crooked, disbelieving smile without quite looking at him.

“Are you spending your free time talking to my mother?”

“What?! ”

“'Cause you fucking sound just like her , Suguru!” He finally turns to him just to scream it in his face.

That’s the reaction Suguru had been bracing for from the start, but the reason behind it? That’s nowhere near what he expected. And he doesn’t even have time to process it, because Satoru’s already speaking again.

“Why don’t you go ahead and tell me I don’t belong anywhere except my father’s company?!” He spat the words like venom. “Or that I’m wasting my time being here?! Or—” he stopped, breathing in sharply,  “—or that I wasn’t made for feelings?! Come on, go full mom-mode, tell me that I’m a cold piece of a son — or friend, or fucking ‘ acquaintance ’, like you said yourself — and that I’m just as frozen inside as I look on the outside!”

Satoru’s breathing was ragged after the outburst of anger and energy, his eyes blazing with determination and challenge — a challenge Suguru wasn’t sure he wanted to accept.

“What?”

He was just relieved he managed to say anything in the state he was currently in, but from the look Satoru shot him, that definitely wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting.

The light-haired boy just took a calming breath and turned away.

“Okay, I know I’m probably not the best guest you’ve ever had over, I know I can be too much, as my mother always said,” he added with a slightly steadier voice and a shaky breath, “too talkative, too loud, too emotional. But I didn’t think I was that much for you to fucking disappear for three weeks.”

“What?”

Okay, yeah, Suguru was pretty sure he looked like a complete idiot right now. The pieces of the puzzle just weren’t fitting together in his head.

And from the way Satoru was glaring at him, he definitely looked like a complete idiot. But none of this made any sense ! Why the hell did Satoru think he was the one who disappeared for three weeks, when it was Satoru who had seemingly wanted nothing to do with him?

“I thought that night everything was okay. You said it was okay. You said you’d… wanted to keep an eye on me. And I— I thought, oh fuck …”

Suguru’s eyes followed his hands — the nervous way they fidgeted, moved mid-air — and in that moment, with horror, he realized that tears were once again sliding down Satoru’s cheeks.

Suguru froze completely. The gears in his brain still refused to turn properly. His heart ached at the sight in front of him — every fiber of his being was screaming to reach out, pull the boy into his arms, and hold him tight. But still, he remained where he was.

He didn’t understand what was happening.

What Satoru was saying just didn’t line up with what had been going on in Suguru’s mind for the past three weeks.

“Satoru, what…?”

“I thought that maybe, if nothing else… we could at least be friends,” the other boy continued in a distant voice, not even looking at him. “Because you seemed so…”

He trailed off, taking a shaky breath.

“But when I came to see you the day after, you just didn’t open the door. I thought maybe you were at work — after all, I don’t even know your schedule — so I decided to come back later. Around eight, I was at your place again… and you still didn’t open. I couldn’t call you, obviously, because we never even exchanged fucking numbers … And then, when it happened again on the fourth day, when you still didn’t come to the door, I realized I must’ve been wrong.”

The boy made a small sound in his throat and Suguru’s heart clenched so painfully it felt like it might collapse in on itself. Especially now, knowing that just minutes ago, he had wanted Satoru to hurt as much as he did.

And then it was like a gong went off in his head, and Suguru could only sit there, astonished and absolutely mortified , because through all that rambling, his exhausted brain had finally picked up on the most important part — he had been coming to see him .

He’d been coming to him for four fucking days in a row during “after-work hours,” when in reality Suguru, thanks to his goddamn schedule, didn’t get home until well after nine.

He wanted to see him. He wanted to talk to him just as much as Suguru did. But a stupid coincidence — the dumbest one, really — had kept them apart.

And once that thought struck him, once everything finally clicked into place, Suguru felt an overwhelming wave of relief crash through him.

He still couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing, but the proof that he hadn’t imagined it — that the feelings were mutual — was sitting right in front of him.

Sitting there and telling him he’d come to see him, that he’d tried to reach out; spilling his soul right in front of him, crying, and—

Fuck.

Suguru wanted to comfort him, wanted to tell him Satoru was wrong about being wrong . That it was real. That this was all a fucking coincidence — a one-in-a-million, absolutely ridiculous kind of coincidence — but still, just that.

He really, truly wanted to.

But his brain — his exhausted, goddamn brain — couldn’t catch up with his heart, and instead of something comforting or helpful, his mouth opened only to let out a single quiet, stupid question:

“…What?”

And Suguru mentally slapped himself . (Not for the first time and, judging by the pattern, definitely not the last when it came to this angel of a boy.) Because Satoru’s head snapped toward him so fast it was like he’d been physically hit, and in the darkness lit only by pale moonlight, his cerulean eyes burned with fury.

“Say ‘what’ one more fuckin’ time, Suguru, I swear to God !..”

“No, no! I’m sorry!”

Well. That’s a start.

Satoru was still staring at him, waiting for more, and Suguru was ready to give him more, he just needed to gather the pieces of his mind first.

He closed his eyes and took a few slow, deliberate breaths in and out.

When he opened them again, Satoru was still watching him, and Suguru counted that as a small personal victory. There were still glimmering tear tracks on the light-haired boy’s cheeks, but his gaze was steady and waiting.

Suguru swallowed the knot of nerves suddenly lodged in his throat and continued:

“I really am sorry. For my stupid questions, and for all this shit that happened over these weeks. But… would you believe me if I told you I came to see you, too?”

Satoru’s eyes widened in surprise, and Geto noticed the way his breath hitched. Suguru gave a sad smile, holding that endless gaze with his own.

“Yes, but only once, so you got me there.” Despite everything swirling in him, he took another deep breath and continued. “I should have been home when you came by, that’s true. But that job, that project… I wasn’t home before nine on most days, sometimes even later. I had no idea you were there. Did you know that the night I walked you to your apartment, I wanted to ask for your number?”

Satoru, still slightly slack-jawed in disbelief, shook his head. Geto allowed himself a slightly wider smile. He scooted a little closer on the couch, hesitantly reaching out and taking one of Satoru’s hands in his own. Suguru wasn’t sure whether the tremble he felt came from Satoru or from himself. He took silence as a sign that he could keep talking.

“It’s true,” he continued, squeezing the other boy’s hand a little more firmly, “but I just forgot. Can you believe that? I was so nervous I forgot the most important thing. And then… well, you know the rest. All those stupid coincidences — which really were coincidences — they’ve been driving me insane this whole time. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me.”

“I don't want anything to do with you?! ” the other guy suddenly shouted.

“Well, I mean… yeah, ‘cause why would you?”

“ What do you mean ‘ why would I’?” the light-haired boy asked, wiping the tear-streaks from his face with his free hand, leaving only a soft flush behind. “Please, don’t be ridiculous. Do you even know how good you are? If anything — you’re the one who wouldn’t want anything to do with me! ”

Yeah, he was right.

It is ridiculous.

Fucking hilarious , actually.

Despite himself and all the tension, Suguru laughed. He was still holding the other boy’s hand, and began gently stroking it in reassurance.

“Care to elaborate?”

Satoru just pouted and looked away. His next words came so quietly, especially after the earlier outburst, that for a second Suguru wondered if he even said them at all.

“I flirted with you.”

“So did I,” Suguru softly offered after a brief pause.

Cobalt eyes found amber again. “I ruined your family reunion.”

“You didn’t ruin anything — Mimiko asked you to come to that dinner.” Suguru’s expression twisted slightly, as if in pain. “You wanna make this a competition? I insulted your mother and called her a bitch.”

Satoru just shrugged. “First of all, you didn't insult anyone — you told the truth. And second of all — she is.”

That made both boys laugh. When they finally caught their breath, Suguru felt all the anxiety from the past few weeks simply melt away. It was strange and unfamiliar, how a single conversation could completely change his mood and state of mind. Even though he hadn’t slept in two days, right now he felt better than he had in all those weeks combined.

Letting go of the other boy’s hand, Suguru tilted his head up to the night sky and just allowed himself to enjoy the moment. He felt an incredible warmth where his shoulder touched Satoru’s and the quickened beat of his own heart. He felt like his body was dissolving into this blissful sense of calm.

At last, all his anxious thoughts went silent.

Smiling to himself, Suguru turned to look at Satoru, only to find that the boy was already looking at him. It was the kind of look they write about in novels. Deep, unending, full of hidden feelings and unspoken wants. A look that sent Suguru’s heart into a sprint; a look that burned with its intensity.

He stared into those cerulean eyes and tried to summon a single word from his vocabulary, something to break the spell, to return to the present instead of letting his brain invent things that probably weren’t even there.

But all his efforts boiled down to a single word:

“ Satoru… ”

The other boy didn’t seem fazed by the sudden raspiness in Suguru’s voice. On the contrary. It felt like his gaze only grew more intense, as if he were peering into the darkest corners of Geto’s mind, studying his most hidden desires.

Goosebumps broke out across Suguru’s skin; the cool summer night had nothing to do with it.

“Hm?”

Suguru nervously averted his gaze, shyly rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “Sorry, it’s just… you’re looking at me like…” He exhaled, shaking his head. “Ah, forget about it.”

Yeah, he really was sleep-deprived these days if he actually thought what he saw in that gaze was…

“Like I want to kiss you?” the other boy offered, cutting through Suguru’s train of thought.

The boy’s eyes widened in fear, and he quickly turned to look at his companion. Judging by the expression on the other boy’s face, Satoru had actually said it, not just something his sleep-deprived brain had imagined. But how?

Of course, Suguru would’ve been lying if he claimed it wasn’t what he had thought of; if he said it wasn’t something he wanted too.

But he couldn’t let his own foolishness ruin the connection they had just started to rebuild. He was ready, even now, to drop to his knees just to apologize for such a naive, stupid, and inappropriate assumption. The words of apology were already on the tip of his tongue.

But they all vanished the moment his eyes met Satoru’s again.

He was so close now that, in any other situation, Suguru would’ve instinctively pulled away to give the other boy more space, just in case he was uncomfortable. But instead, he felt Satoru lean in just a little closer to his right side. His impossibly large, endlessly blue eyes weren’t burning with anger, as Suguru had feared just seconds ago. Instead, they were gently studying his face, carefully tracing each of his features until finally stopping at his lips. Suguru swallowed nervously, and those eyes dipped lower, following the motion of his adam’s apple.

Drowning in the endless blue of Satoru’s gaze, Suguru realized he couldn’t say anything but the truth.

“Yeah…” His voice was hoarse with emotion, his heart pounding in his chest from the adrenaline.

“Yeah,” the other boy echoed, “’cause I am.” Then, after a brief pause, he whispered, “Or… is it a bad— …is it a wrong thing?”

All the confidence, all the joy of the moment vanished in an instant — dispelled by a single word.

Suguru’s heart seemed to stop for a beat, his whole body doused in metaphorical ice water, and before his eyes flickered a montage of his school years.

The constant bullying. Ambushes after class. Bruised knuckles. Relentless, cruel words from his peers. Lonely, sleepless nights. Dark circles under his eyes. Pale skin. A slender body in the mirror. Tears.

Pills.

It’ll be better without me.

I’m wrong.

I’m wrong.

I’m…

“…I’m so , so sorry… I—”

Satoru’s soft voice pulled Suguru back into the present, and with a jolt of dread, he realized he had stayed silent for far too long. The boy’s eyes now looked frightened, darting nervously from side to side. He awkwardly pulled away from Suguru, increasing the distance between them.

No, no, no.

Suguru lifted his trembling hand and gently cupped the other boy’s cheek before he could pull away any further.

“Don’t be,” he whispered quietly into the space between them and shifted a little closer. “It’s… it’s not bad. And it’s not wrong either.”

Satoru didn’t relax under his touch, on the contrary, he completely froze. His hair had fallen into his eyes, and with the same hand still resting on Satoru’s cheek, Suguru gently brushed the strands away from his face. The boy flinched slightly, making Suguru frown.

His hand returned to Satoru’s cheek.

“Are you sure, Suguru?” came the hesitant question. But despite his anxiety, Satoru still tried to sound nonchalant. “Like, one hundred percent sure?”

It brought a soft smile to Geto’s face. He looked at Satoru with a tender gaze. 

“Yes, Satoru. I’m one hundred percent sure there’s nothing wrong with it.”

He was afraid to even imagine where these thoughts in the other boy’s head were coming from. In the back of his mind, like an old film reel, flickered memories from his own past. His personal horrors. And if Satoru’s past was even remotely like his

Suguru swallowed nervously and forced himself to focus on the present. He traced the skin just beneath Satoru’s cheekbone with his thumb. The touch seemed to ground both of them. Satoru closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, leaning into it.

“Then please tell me I’m reading the room right,” he said, looking at Suguru nervously. “Tell me… tell me you want this too… please, tell—”

“Yes,” Suguru leaned in closer, cutting off the other boy’s rambling. “You’re reading it right.”

“Oh, thank fuck ,” Satoru breathed out just before Suguru fully closed the distance and pressed his lips to his.

The kiss was gentle, unhurried, and everything Suguru had ever imagined it would be in his dreams.

He savored the heated panting and little whimpers from the other boy as he deepened the kiss and licked into his mouth; he cherished the slight trembling in Satoru’s hands, which had found their way into his hair and the fabric of his jacket.

Their first kiss was perfect in many ways, and Geto was just a little upset when he finally had to pull away from the boy.

Despite the darkness, he could clearly see the bright blush on the other boy’s cheeks, only enhancing the beauty of his porcelain skin. In his bright eyes, reflecting the moonlight, there was no longer even a hint of tears, only boundless adoration.

Catching his breath, Suguru couldn’t look away from the other boy’s face, his glassy eyes, pink cheeks, and red lips that he was already aching to kiss again.

His breathing, like Suguru’s, was uneven; his chest rising and falling in a quick rhythm, like he’d just run a marathon. Yet despite the flushed and breathless state, he looked totally blissed out, a small but real smile on his face.

It turned sharper the more he studied Suguru’s face. The hand that had been tangled in his black curls moved lower, wrapping around his neck and gently pressing there. For the second time that evening, chills ran down Suguru’s spine.

“So,” the white-haired boy began, still a little breathless, “are you planning on asking for my number, or are we only going to communicate through evening meetups on this couch?”

Suguru couldn’t hold it in — he laughed out loud. The last time he’d laughed this genuinely was three weeks ago, that night when the four of them watched a movie after dinner, and Satoru and Nanako were coming up with the most absurd plot twists for that mediocre horror flick they had decided to watch.

It felt nice to be able to laugh like that again.

Suguru wrapped both arms around the other boy’s waist, trying to pull him even closer, despite them already being just a few centimeters apart.

“Oh, I’m definitely getting your number,” grinned the black-haired man. “But in return, you’re absolutely obligated to tell me how the hell you dragged this damn leather couch up to this godforsaken balcony.”

Satoru’s laughter echoed in his ears long after that.

He could still hear it later, as he stood in his warm kitchen brewing himself one last cup of chamomile tea, when his body stubbornly refused to fall asleep after such an intense evening.

It resonated in every drop of hot water in the shower he took before bed.

It rang in his own footsteps, grew louder in the creaks of the wooden floor in his bedroom.

It refused to quiet down when the digital clock beside Suguru’s bed showed well past three in the morning; it stirred his tired mind in the half-dark of his room, as he stared at the bright screen of his phone, at the most recent name in his contact list.

That night — or rather, that morning — Suguru finally fell asleep with a peaceful heart, and the only pain he felt was the ache in his cheeks from the continuous smile that had stayed on his face for the past few hours.

Suguru closed his eyes, feeling Satoru’s warm and uneven breath on his lips, and in his chest – the hope he had hidden away, now blooming again with renewed strength.

On the edge of sleep, eyes still closed, he smiled one last time before slumber completely took him.

“Maybe I’m not a total idiot after all…”

Yeah, tomorrow he definitely should text Mimiko.