Chapter Text
“Loving you is really hard”
Lana Del Rey, “Ultraviolence”
When he was fifteen, Suguru read about something called the categorical imperative—that one must act in accordance with the world in which they wish to live. That’s why lying is so bad. You lie on the presumption that everyone else is telling the truth, therefore, you are betraying both yourself and those around you. When he told Satoru and Shoko about it, they shrugged it off like duh, who doesn’t know that? When Suguru got sore over it, Satoru called him a baby and Shoko said that the world has real problems, not the existential crises that Suguru likes creating for himself. Satoru had snapped his fingers in agreement with Shoko, and it was the first time Suguru felt like his friends didn’t really understand him.
If someone told Suguru that he’d be twenty years old and feel like he’s older than Yaga, he wouldn’t have believed it. Four years ago, he had been sixteen and on top of the fucking world. Then Riko happened, and everything went off the rails. It has been years, but he’s still reeling. He doesn’t blame Kento for leaving the lifestyle after Yu. It hasn’t felt worth it in a very long time.
He’s sitting in his bed, wearing a white button down and black trousers, because he’s an adult now. His hair is up, elbows on his knees, his hands over his face, pressing his fingers against his eyelids so that he can see swirls and feel like he’s falling down a rabbit hole.
Suguru hasn’t slept properly in years. He hates the metallic taste of Zopiclone, and herbal teas meant to aid sleep are nasty, both smelling and tasting like murder. He’s beyond spraying lavender essential oils on his pillow and sleeping with a weighted blanket—nothing short of a benzo will do. It’s why he avoids sleepovers with Satoru and Shoko. He doesn’t want them to know that there’s a problem, and he’s jealous that they both sleep like babies. He doesn’t tell his parents or Yaga because he’s convinced that they’d be disappointed in him for not having the mental fortitude to endure the fucked up and traumatic things he has to deal with.
The only two people who know the depth of his problem are Mei Mei and Utahime. The former supplies him with the benzodiazepines he needs to sleep so that he doesn’t have to go through a doctor, and the latter brings them to him. He and Mei Mei have a straightforward, transactional relationship, but the one he shares with Utahime is complicated. He always thought she was weak, shrill, and annoying, until Satoru started going out on his own and Shoko decided to learn medicine. Utahime was the only person for him to pair up with. They were together on his twentieth birthday, fresh off a job, when they decided to watch a movie.
Utahime turned to look at him like a woman looks at a man, and after she stared at his mouth, she leaned forward, and they did what adults do in the dark. Neither of them has told anyone, not their parents or Satoru or Shoko, because it feels very personal, and they haven’t yet decided what they are. Mei Mei knows, but she isn’t a snitch unless there’s something in it for her, and while Satoru realizing that he must now share both Shoko and Suguru with Utahime could be entertaining, he’s annoying when he doesn’t think he’s getting enough attention. The last thing she needs is Satoru trying to get her to feed his monster ego.
Back to Utahime and Suguru: if he had to describe what it’s like to be with her, he would say that it’s like coming home, and realizing it’s even better than you remember it being. He’s had sex before but not like that, and she’s told him the same. I didn’t know it could be like this, she had panted into his throat. The memory makes his entire body twitch.
Utahime texted Suguru this morning, telling him that she was coming down to Tokyo to see Shoko, but that she wanted to see him first. She even used a semi-colon and three, to be cute. She’s always like that when they’ve been apart for a few weeks. Comes back syrupy sweet and tries to melt into him. Doesn’t even get mad when he tells her that twenty-three is old and that she should be prepared to die soon. Even laughs sometimes.
He sits and waits for her to come to him, because he knows that she hates being the one to wait. Says it makes her want to crawl out of her skin.
Sitting here, he gets it. He feels twitchy in his fingers, and he’s in the middle of sighing for the umpteenth time when he hears the telltale knock, three decisive raps of her knuckles. He stands up and walks across the room, opening the door to see Utahime grinning up at him, holding her overnight bag in one hand, her little black purse on her shoulder. The scar is fading to a dusty pink. He wasn’t there when she got it. She claims that she was angry more than scared, and that she finished the exorcism sloppily because of all the blood.
“Hey,” she says, “can I come in?” Suguru wordlessly holds the door open for her. She smiles at him, stepping in and throwing her bag and purse onto the floor. She turns around, and he decides that he doesn’t want to wait to find out how she is or what the train ride was like. “I missed you.”
Suguru leans forward and swallows the rest of her words. They know each other well enough that they don’t need to talk. It’s what he likes about her. Utahime goes out of her way not to make things complicated, which he appreciates. Suguru already can’t sleep and developing an ulcer would probably force him to call his mom and tell her that he’s not okay, which he definitely doesn’t want to do. He’s supposed to be a man now, but he doesn’t have the courage to admit that he’s not strong, not the way Satoru and Shoko are.
Utahime pulls away, her face flushed, and she looks into the backs of his eyes, a sweet look on her face. He knows a part of it is her performing the Cool Girl and Down Bitch, but he won’t act like it doesn’t make his life easier, even though, privately, he prefers when she gives him a hard time.
“You don’t want to talk to me?” she asks in a small voice. Suguru leans in so that his mouth is a few inches from hers, like he’s speaking into it.
“We do that all the time.”
“But I want to know everything about you,” Utahime says, “like, what you were doing before I got here?”
“I was sitting here, waiting,” he replies, kissing her. He finds purpose in the fact that Utahime needs him, in a way that Satoru and Shoko never did. Suguru can tell by the way that she keeps up with him and never, ever lies.
“You must have been doing something else,” she hums, before kissing him back.
“No,” he says, lying. He wishes that she was all he could think about. But his problems always creep around in the background, and he needs more and more of her to keep the evil away.
“So, you were sitting here, just thinking of me?” she asks, looking up at him with big, glimmery eyes. She, so badly, wants him to love her and he very much would like to tell her that he feels that way, that she never needs to doubt him, but he doesn’t feel like he’s ready. It should be when he’s happy and carefree, not when he can barely sleep, and memories of the dead keep him awake.
“Yes,” he says, pressing his mouth to hers, before they stumble back to his little twin bed.
Utahime is actually a tomboy, but she wears dresses when she either has to, or they make her life easier. He hovers over her, kissing her neck, putting his hand up her dress because he doesn’t want to wait. Utahime pulls her dress up, so that she’s exposed from the waist down. Shoving his hand down her underwear, he begins his familiar circle.
He doesn’t have to worry about impressing Utahime, but he wants her to like him. It’s the paradox of falling in love—the deeper it gets, the less a person cares about their beloved’s goodness, but the beloved, more and more, wants to be the kind of person that is worthy of that love. He very badly wants to be the person she thinks he is, but he knows that probably isn’t the case.
Suguru smiles to himself when he feels her moving against his hand, because it means that she’s getting ready. He eases a finger inside, kissing her neck, not looking at her face because he doesn’t have to, to know that she’s happy. He can feel it in the way her body lets him in, how their bodies find a rhythm with each other.
“Suguru,” she sighs, “I want to get naked.”
“Why?” he asks, searching for the softest spot inside of her. He’s almost there too, it’s obvious when he drags the pad of his finger inside of her and she makes a happy noise.
“Because I like how your skin feels,” she says, trying not to come. He’s not making it easy. “And I don’t want to mess up our clothes.” One time, they weren’t careful, and he got his semen on the dress that she had to wear on the train home. She tied a sweater around her waist, but she is still a little mad.
“I’m not wearing anything nice,” he says, looking up at her, “and we can change.” He thought the semen incident was really funny, especially when Utahime made a face like an angry baby alligator and ripped him a new one. Can’t you aim that thing? He nearly rolled off the bed from laughing so hard.
“I just want to be close to you,” she says, reaching for his face so that he has to look her in the eye. Geto stops moving his fingers inside of her and looks at her intently.
“What does that mean?” he asks. She smiles softly, looking at him with a sweetness he most definitely does not deserve. If only she knew how bad things were getting inside of his head.
She shrugs, like it should just be apparent what closeness means. He’s knuckle-deep inside of her, so he doesn’t know how much closer he can get. When it becomes clear that she is going to be the one in charge, Utahime takes his hand out from between her legs, and pushes him so that he sits back. She takes her underwear off, and he snorts when she struggles a bit—it gets caught on her left ankle and she grunts in a very unsexy way, stretching her arms and bending her leg to get it off.
“Want help?”
“Do you want to get laid?” she asks, frowning at him. He rolls his eyes and shrugs while she ignores him. Utahime pulls off her dress, and then her bra, before lying down on her stomach. “I’m ready.”
“This is getting closer?” he asks, unzipping his fly and pulling his dick out.
“Uh-huh,” she says, turning to look at him, “I always feel you right up in my brain like this.” She smiles at him and Suguru rolls his eyes. She says all sorts of ridiculous things when she’s horned up. Utahime raises her hips but keeps her shoulders down. In her mind, it emphasizes the length of her spine and gives her some mystique. He is aware of this, and if he weren’t having sex with her, he’d make fun of her for it. He won’t admit it, but he wants her approval as much as she wants his.
She sighs when he penetrates her, pressing her forehead to the pillow. He presses down into her, and she responds by lowering her hips, and he follows, until he’s practically on top of her. Utahime likes when he’s squishing her—she says it’s like they are one person.
His pace is lazy, focusing on striking deep rather moving fast. Suguru wants to enjoy his time inside of her, and Utahime is more than happy to go along with it. She doesn’t even need an orgasm, because being close to him is enough for her. She’s making her syrupy noises of contentment, moaning obnoxiously whenever he hits the spot right in front of her cervix.
Suguru never actually just uses her. It’s not his style. He lifts off her a bit, dragging himself out of her in a very slow, deliberate way. He pauses, waiting for her to lift her hips. When she chases him, he doesn’t immediately go back in.
“I want you to touch yourself.” He tells her what to do because he knows she likes it.
“Okay,” she hums, putting a hand between her legs. She knows he wants her to come just as much as he likes the horny image of her touching herself while he’s inside of her.
Suguru says nothing, giving her no warning before he sinks back into her. She moans, loudly, and while he likes how it sounds, he’s not fucking stupid. Satoru and Shoko are both nosy and shameless, and the last thing he needs is for one of them to overhear them. He stretches forward to put his hand over her mouth, and she gets louder to spite him. It makes her feel powerful, and she’s rewarded when he starts hitting her harder to finish this quickly. Forget her brain—his impact is in her toes and fingers and eyeballs.
“Why are you so loud?” he groans, “are you trying to get caught?” He can feel it in his back, and he starts to chase his own orgasm. He’s in crisis but it’s not so bad when he’s inside of her. All the bad falls away, and he gets to be his happy self again. Utahime feels this shift, and instead of saying anything, she laughs out loud while she commits herself to the task of coming.
He hits even harder, and between that and her fingers, she comes first, making a real ugly noise, moaning from her guts, while he keeps rolling his hips into her. She presses her face into the pillow, her hands over her head, pushing her hips back because she’s sensitive and it hurts a little. They can both tell that it’s going to hurt to part.
Suguru has always come inside of her, something he knows he shouldn’t do but he does anyway because he likes the idea of leaving a piece of himself inside of her. He pushes right up into her to make his point, and Utahime sighs, because it feels like he’s home.
**
After, Utahime lies on her back in his bed, Suguru lying on top of her, while she texts Shoko, making up some excuse for her lateness. He’s helping her brainstorm, but they haven’t come up with anything good.
“Train delay?” he asks, tracing a lazy circle around her nipple.
“She can check the schedule,” Utahime frowns, “maybe I should tell her that I went shopping?”
“Then she’d want to join you.” Selfishly, he wants Utahime all to himself. He always had to share Satoru with Shoko and vice versa, and he’s annoyed that he still has to do the same with Utahime.
“Maybe an accident?”
“Like what?” he asks, “that you fell? She’ll want evidence.”
“Maybe I got lost,” Utahime absentmindedly strokes his hair, frowning at her phone.
“Going to a place you’ve been visiting since you were fifteen?” he snorts, “no way.”
“Then I wandered from the path,” she says, “took the more scenic route.” Suguru snorts, but it’s a better lie because it isn’t really one at all. He presses his cheek to her chest and relaxes, since she’s committed to staying here longer. Suguru hasn’t told her this, but he sleeps easier when she’s with him. She smells nice and has a comforting presence, and he doesn’t have to stress about performing sanity or wellness for her the way he has to with Shoko and Satoru, who always stay down for eight hours and wake up so refreshed that they don’t understand why he’s so grumpy in the morning.
“Want to hear a joke?” he asks. Utahime shrugs under him. “Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?” she asks, preparing for something lame.
“Boo,” he says.
“Boo who?” she replies, knowing where this is going.
“Don’t cry,” he smiles when she groans.
“You’re such a loser, do you know that?” she asks. He laughs because they both know that it’s the opposite. He has the social capital in this relationship. “Get off me, and I’ll get your pills.” She pushes him off, and he frowns when he gets up and she leaves the bed. She walks over to her purse, because she keeps his pills on her person to ensure that he gets them. She won’t admit this but getting to swallow Suguru’s semen and give him his pills is probably the coolest thing that has happened to Utahime, like she’s in an edgy television show or raw, sad song.
You see, Utahime is keenly aware that she isn’t cool. Shoko’s mystique doesn’t rub off on her, and she doesn’t have confidence like Satoru or Mei Mei. She doesn’t even have a dry sense of humor like Nanami. Her secret relationship with Suguru makes her feel powerful, like his saliva and sweat and semen give her superpowers. She stands a little straighter after they have sex, and she’s better able to volley hits back at Satoru, because while he’s best friends with Suguru, she’s had him up in her guts and that’s completely different.
Suguru watches her kneel, eyeing the curve of her spine as she picks up her purse and shoves her hand in, taking out the bottle. She shakes it, like she wants to make sure the pills are still in there before she turns around and tosses it to him.
He catches it, easily. He holds the bottle up to his face, staring at the pills. Mei Mei warns him that he needs to cycle, which he does, but he still needs a higher dose than he did at the beginning. There’s nothing as good as the first time, in the sense that he wasn’t prepared for how peaceful he’d feel. He never thought that Utahime would be his enabler, but on the other hand, she’s the only one who has seen his insomnia firsthand. She’s practical—his physical wellbeing is essential for his mental wellness.
“What do you think of the pills?” he asks, setting them on his desk. Utahime acts really interested in the contents of her purse, not looking at him. She knows it’s bad, but she thinks it’s under control. At least someone is between him and his supply, and she thinks she will know when it goes too far and be able to refuse Suguru when it does.
If you’re wondering, no, neither Suguru nor Utahime understand benzodiazepines and the physiological dependency that can develop from abuse. It doesn’t feel like Suguru is abusing pills because he does need them and isn’t doing it for fun. They are both young and thus, think that problems announce themselves before manifesting, like the big bad thing is always polite and gives you a heads up. That is, emphatically, not the case.
“You need them, don’t you?” she asks, not looking at him. “It’s not like you’d take them if you had a choice.” Utahime is a teensy bit ashamed, because she knows that Shoko and Satoru would never say that. Satoru is determined to be fat and diabetic while Shoko is trying to nurture several kinds of cancers. They’d tell Suguru that he’s an addict, like them, except worse because he can’t admit it. Not even Utahime can, and she’s seen the pills. The dose required to achieve the desired effect keeps going up.
“Yeah,” he says, lying back down.
“You’re just coping,” she says, setting her purse down. Suguru sighs.
“I guess that’s the best I can hope for,” he says, staring up at the ceiling. Utahime looks at him, annoyed that she can’t see his face from her spot on the floor.
“What are you really saying?” she asks, standing up. She walks back over to the bed and sits on his stomach while she waits for an answer, any answer, except for the one she doesn’t want to hear.
“Nothing, I guess,” he replies, looking up at her.
Utahime doesn’t really believe him, but because she’s hoping he’ll commit to something more and she’s afraid of rocking the boat, she pulls her punch and stays silent. She leans down and kisses him in a gentle, intimate way that is completely detached from sex and full of care.
It’s Suguru who makes it nasty, perverting her care into something else. He presses his hand to the back of her skull, and it makes her indescribably happy. She takes his face in her hands, and while she’s still annoyed that he has his clothes on, there is something hot about being the naked one, like she’s submissive.
Utahime pulls back, pressing her forehead to his, eyes closed. “Want to watch a movie?” Suguru laughs straight from his guts.
“No,” he says, “I definitely don’t want that.” He wants to lose himself inside of her, so that he can feel like he’s the person she thinks he is. Strong, capable, and not about to lose his damn mind.
“Then what are we going to do?” she asks, before planting another nasty kiss on his mouth. She feels his hand on her back, and it makes her tingle.
“Whatever you want,” he says into her mouth. He’ll do it. She’ll say jump, and he’ll ask how high, no further questions asked.
“Really?” she asks, excited. He nods, looking up at her with this sincere expression that makes her want to melt into him. “Even if there’s nothing in it for you?” she asks, “something purely selfless?”
“Utahime,” he says, “I am selfless.”
“Then let me sit on your face,” she replies, “please?” Utahime has never done it before, but she’s seen it in lots of dirty movies, and it looks like a lot of fun. She mentioned it to Shoko once, who said that sitting on a man’s face is a true power move.
Suguru blinks at her, because, well, it’s not something he’s done before but he’s game to try. It’s just going to take some time to figure it out.
“Okay,” he smiles, “let’s do it.” Utahime wiggles a little, excited while they move around and figure out how their bodies are supposed to fit together. They giggle a lot because it’s sweet and a little awkward. When they are finally in the right position, Utahime looks down at him.
“It’s so weird to have to look down at you like this,” she says, “like I’m powerful or something. Is this what it’s like when I blow you?” Utahime is genuinely curious, and Suguru pauses to think about it.
“I guess I feel that way,” he says, touching her. Utahime makes a happy noise in the back of her throat. “Ready?”
“Yes,” she says, trying not to sound so excited. Suguru smiles to himself and turns his head to kiss the inside of her thigh.
Once, she asked him what she tasted like, so he inserted a finger inside of her and put it in her mouth. She made this face, the kind where it’s obvious that she’s tasted something she wasn’t expecting, that made Suguru laugh so hard that she threatened to kill him. After, she said that she thought she would taste better because he’s always so eager to go down on her. He said that he bets semen tastes worse, and she told him that his semen is yummy, and he really, really tried not to laugh out loud. Yummy is a strange word to describe the taste of semen. At least I can be honest about it being an acquired taste!
Utahime breathes in deep and tries to relax as he puts his mouth to her. It feels different, because Suguru has to try and figure out how to reach the right places from this angle, but it feels nice when he starts sucking. She moans when he slips a finger inside of her, and she sighs when she feels him start to get going. Utahime moves her hips a little, trying to chase him like she always does.
What should she do with her hands? Utahime hadn’t thought of that. She bunches them into fists, clenching them as she feels the lining in her stomach bubble up, like she’s going to be sick but not. She looks down at him and smiles. He pauses to wink at her, his mouth still on her, which makes her giggle and look away from him.
Her first real moan comes when he slips two fingers in and starts exploring with his tongue. Her nipples tingle and she arches her back as it feels like her stomach is collapsing in on itself. Utahime moans again, louder. Suguru just responds by doubling down, which is what he does when he realizes too late that she’s going to be noisy, and he has to kill her dead. He once asked her why she gets so loud, and she said that it’s because she wants everyone to know how he does her. He asked her if she was trying to advertise for him and she got so mad that she got out of bed and refused to come back until he apologized.
Utahime’s next moan starts off as a joke, but then she feels all the nerves in her thighs and hips tingle, and it comes out real.
She once told Suguru that lightning doesn’t strike twice, and he told her she was wrong. He actually found a scientific article. She was mad at him, and then later he said that lightning doesn’t have to be a bad thing—dangerous, yes, but dangerous things can be a lot of fun too. Sex with Suguru is the furthest thing from dangerous but it is exciting, like real danger should be, and that’s enough.
She turns her head, to look at herself in the mirror across his room. Utahime gets distracted when his tongue presses against her in the exact right way. He pulls another guttural moan out of her, and she arches her back just so. She grabs the headboard, before turning back to look at herself in the mirror.
Utahime thinks about what Shoko means when she says chaotic femininity. She never understood what the term meant until she sees herself in the mirror and realizes that this is the first time, in a long time, that she’s caught her face in the mirror and thought that she looks beautiful. Usually when she sees herself in a mirror, she doesn’t like what she sees, but when Suguru’s mouth on her, she feels powerful and beautiful. Even when her face twists into something ugly, she thinks that she looks very attractive, all pink and flustered and blotchy. She wants to feel this good all the time.
“Fuck,” she curses, turning back to look down at Suguru, willing him to look up at her. White hot lightning dances in her stomach. When he looks up at her, she feels her heart drop. He looks so happy and excited. She wants to tell him how much she loves him, but she restrains herself. “I want to come now.” He blinks to demonstrate that he has heard her, and he chases her orgasm down with the kind of single-minded intensity that leaves her legs shaking.
**
Suguru stands up, looking at himself in the mirror. He’s straightened out his clothes, even though he still looks rumpled. He has nowhere to be, so he doesn’t mind it. Utahime is dressed again, but she’s sitting on his bed, trying to extend their time together. Suguru puts his hair back up, and he tries not to think about what he’ll do if someone asks him about what was happening in his bedroom. He’s not fifteen anymore, he doesn’t need permission to have people in his room. It’s no one’s business, not really. On the other hand, he isn’t ready to talk about Utahime. What do you do when another person is your home?
Utahime watches him, her legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle, right on his pillow. She put on a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt, since she and Shoko are going to adventure around, which is code for taking acid and going to an aquarium, then come back and lie down on Shoko’s floor. Utahime doesn’t like it when someone who isn’t having sex with her sees her in her panties, even Shoko. It’s one of her more charming neuroses.
“You look tense,” she says, tilting her head. He looks at her, frowning.
“My jaw aches a little,” he replies. He gave her everything, like he was trying to devour her. It’s why she came so hard, so it was worth it, but he’s still sore.
“You make it sound like it wasn’t fun,” she pouts, put out. “We should’ve watched the movie, if you’re going to be this way.”
“Be what way?” he asks, knowing that Utahime is going to start with him. She always does when she gets nice and comfortable.
“Sore,” she replies. Suguru rolls his eyes, not rising to her taunt.
“I didn’t say that” he says, “I like making you feel good. I’m just a little uncomfortable after.”
“That sounds like a lie,” Utahime replies, digging in her heels. Suguru shakes his head, not knowing what to expect.
“I never do this when you complain about being sore after.” He goes out of his way to make her comfortable, because that’s what you do when someone lets you hit their cervix or the back of their throat. He speaks softly and does whatever she wants.
“Because I never look like I’m somewhere else after,” she says. Suguru sighs, rubbing his eyes.
“It’s not you,” he says, “I’m just…tired.”
“Even with the pills?” she asks, concerned. Suguru shrugs, because he’s too proud to admit that he ran out before he was supposed to.
Utahime opens her mouth to say something, but his phone buzzes, and he reaches for it. Suguru frowns when he reads the message—Yaga’s texting always gives away his age—but he’s glad to have an excuse to exit this uncomfortable conversation.
“I’ve got a mission,” he says, “apparently it’s urgent.”
“Where is it?” she asks, standing up. Something tells her not to let him go away, like he won’t come back.
“Some place in the sticks,” he says, “the kind of dead town with only a hundred people.” He’s been out that way before, and he can’t say that he likes the people there. Utahime walks up to him and wraps her arms around his waist, pressing her tummy to his.
“Want me to come?” she asks.
“And tell Shoko and Yaga?” he asks, “I don’t think so.” He sighs and looks around his room. He can tell that this is going to be a headache.
“I really don’t want you to go,” Utahime says, getting on her tiptoes to kiss his jaw, like it would be enough for him to get out of work.
“Why?” he asks, “I always come back.”
“But what if you don’t?” she asks, speaking her irrational fear. She doesn’t want Suguru to die—she wants him to live forever, probably always will. He looks right at her, squinting, before he leans in and properly wraps his arms around her. Hand cradling the back of her skull, lips in her hair. Holding her like he really loves her. The way his hand fits around the base of her skull feels even better than when it’s wrapped around her throat, because as much as she wants Suguru to blow her back out one of these days, she actually lusts for his softness.
And he holds her like this because he does love her, despite his better judgement, and he hates seeing people die for what feels like no reason, and he’s just so, so tired.
Utahime presses her face into his chest, returning his embrace. Something big and sad and unnameable rises inside of her, straight from the core of her being, and she tries her best not to cry.
“What’s up?” she asks, unable to ask him why he’s hugging her like he’ll be going away for a long time, if not forever.
“Nothing,” he replies, getting some of her hair in his mouth.
“Maybe we should’ve watched the movie,” she says, and he laughs against her.
“Nah,” he says, “sucking your soul out of your body was better.” Utahime frowns, pulling away and thumping his chest.
“You did not suck my soul out of my body!” she exclaims, and Suguru steps back, smiling like the asshole he is.
“It sure sounded that way,” he says, “I think dying animals make nicer sounds.” The vein in Utahime’s forehead pops before she turns around and picks up her bags, angry that he ruined their moment. He softens, standing in front of her when she turns around to leave. “Hey.”
“Hey what?”
“Hey, I’m sorry,” he presses his thumb to her lower lip. “I’ll be back sooner than you know. We are going to watch that movie.” They never even chose one, but he knows that he needs to make this exact promise to her. He doesn’t want to leave her angry.
“I get to choose.”
“You always do,” he replies, smiling when she puffs her cheeks.
“We have the same tastes and you’re indecisive,” she says, “that’s why I always choose.”
“Yeah,” he says, “I guess you’re right.”
“You guess,” Utahime says, her eyes narrow as she steps around him. Suguru smiles to himself, not knowing what he really expected.
“Yeah,” he says, “all I do is guess.”
Utahime leaves his room without looking back, because they don’t think that they need to say goodbye. They don’t know that the big bad thing is already here.
**
Because it’s a secret, no one thinks to tell Utahime when Suguru defects. She’s in a meeting with Principal Gakuganji and Mei Mei when the former brings it up. Geto should have been murdered in the cradle. When Utahime asked for clarification, he’s honest. Suguru murdered one hundred and twelve civilians and his own parents, for reasons that, as of right now, are not apparent. Utahime wants to defend him, but she knows how Gakuganji is. He’ll ask her why she’s defending a traitor and mass murderer, and he knows her so well, he’ll figure out the truth.
After the meeting, Utahime excuses herself and goes to the women’s washroom. It’s all institutional, with white and black tile and walls the color of seafoam. It reeks of bleach, which upsets Utahime’s stomach more. There, she gets on her knees in front of a toilet, her retching echoing in the small space. Nothing comes up for a minute, until she sticks her fingers in the back of her throat. Then, it all comes up.
Her eyes water while she looks at the chunks of food and bile. It’s like her nightmare is real. We’re not going to watch that movie. She’s horrified. She’s the first to admit that Suguru has been going through something, but she never would’ve guessed him capable of something like this. Utahime knows that he’s killed before, but he never enjoyed it. He wouldn’t even squeeze her throat whenever his hand was wrapped around it. A part of her wishes he had, because then at least then she’d have known that he was willing to hurt other people for no reason.
It’s Mei Mei who finds her, sobbing like a little baby. She opens the door of the stall, which Utahime never bothered locking. She looks up, wondering how Mei Mei is still so together.
“Did we do this?” Utahime asks, thinking about the pills. Mei Mei shakes her head.
“Pills don’t make you commit murder.” Mei Mei doesn’t kneel or reach for her, which Utahime appreciates. She doesn’t want anyone to touch her.
“Why didn’t he tell me?” Utahime asks, “why—”
“There’s no satisfactory reason,” Mei Mei says, crossing her arms. “You’re being dramatic.”
“He killed a whole town,” Utahime sputters, “he murdered his parents!” Suguru always spoke about his mother with affection, how she’d kiss his cheeks and encourage him to be his best self.
The world just doesn’t make sense anymore. The person she loves cares about other people and has a good relationship with his parents. He’s a good person.
Mei Mei’s lip twitches, but otherwise, she doesn’t emote. Utahime never really knows what’s happening in her head, which is especially frustrating right now.
“Just remember this feeling when he comes back to say goodbye.” Mei Mei looks like she feels sorry for Utahime, like she’s a pitiable being, like a bird with a broken wing, and Mei Mei is deciding between just killing her or going to the trouble of fixing her.
“Come back?” Utahime hiccups, “you think he’ll come back?”
“Shoko and Satoru saw him,” Mei Mei says, “he’s soft. He’ll come to say goodbye to you.” Utahime sits with this information. Irrationally jealous, she’s mad that he didn’t come to her first, but maybe that means that she’s the hardest to say goodbye to.
“How long have you known?” Utahime asks, watching Mei Mei step into the stall and flush the toilet, frowning. Mei Mei always smells expensive, like a place you can’t quite remember but have been to before, and you would like to go back to.
“Since last week,” Mei Mei says softly, “I was going to tell you today.”
“Why did you wait?”
“Because I wanted you to be happy for a while longer,” Mei Mei says, “you never love the same after your first.” She’s very business-like, and for a second, Utahime wonders who Mei Mei lost. She doesn’t fuck sorcerers, preferring, and these are her words, big-dicked bankers who don’t ask stupid questions. Utahime always assumed that she was just born cold, but perhaps something made her that way.
“How’d you know?”
“That time we were on the train, and when we got off, he walked right behind you,” Mei Mei walks over to the sink. “He touched the small of your back, and you just looked at him like he was the only person. Didn’t jump or anything.”
Utahime nods, leaning back against the stall, drawing her knees up so that she can wrap her arms around them. Mei Mei knew they were involved, but Utahime didn’t think she knew how deep it went.
“I offered to go with him on that mission,” Utahime says.
“Don’t guilt yourself,” Mei Mei says in a clipped tone. “All you’re doing is making this all about you. There are people who died or lost their loved ones. This isn’t about your boyfriend running out on you.”
“I didn’t say that” Utahime pouts, pressing her hands to her face. “This didn’t have to happen.”
“Well, it did.”
Loving Suguru is hard, but it’s also very easy. For all the ways that he annoyed her, he also brought Utahime great happiness. She knows that she can’t commit to hating him. She had plans for them, a vision of the future.
Sex without a condom isn’t emotional honesty, even though it feels that way. Knowing someone’s secrets, or the ones that they choose to share, isn’t even that intimate either. It’s in coming to know the things about a person that are completely involuntary that are intimate, and she had that with Suguru. She could tell from his voice alone who he was talking to on the phone, the face he made when happy or sad or tired, how his forehead wrinkled when he was focusing on a book. He only touches his face when he’s reading, putting the palm of his right hand up to his jaw, which he does when tired or moved.
“You really think he’ll come back?” Utahime says in a quiet voice. Mei Mei sighs, not turning to look at her.
“He went back to hurt Shoko and Satoru, what’s stopping him from doing the same to you?” She turns around, and Utahime doesn’t think she’s ever seen Mei Mei look so emotional. “You don’t deserve that, none of you did. I can’t protect you, but I can warn you.”
“Why?”
“Look at where you are now,” Mei Mei says, “and imagine an even worse place.” She wipes her hands on her skirt, which is something Utahime didn’t think Mei Mei would do, and then she walks right out of the bathroom.
For someone so smart, Geto sometimes forgets words. He can never remember the word for kite. They’d see them, and he’d point up and refer to them as “those things that fly.” Utahime can’t remember how many times she corrected him, before giving up and just going with it. Those things that fly. This is selfish and silly and completely beside the point, but she hopes that he doesn’t have someone else who knows what he means when he says that.
**
All in all, Suguru is fine with his decision. He hasn’t slept this well since he was fifteen and Riko was alive. In some ways, he thinks that this was perhaps the inevitable solution. After years of insomnia and uncertainty, he feels like he finally has clarity. An answer for all the horrible things that he has witnessed.
He’s been trailing Utahime for about fifteen minutes. She goes on walks at night to clear her mind, and she takes the same route. He once asked her if she was trying to get murdered, and she huffed and replied I don’t know, maybe. Suguru had laughed at the time, but now that he’s following her, he realizes just how clueless she is when she’s a civie. She’s wearing jeans and an old sweater he left at her apartment. It’s plain and black, generic, but he knows it’s his by the neckline and the sleeves.
Suguru isn’t sure if this is a good idea, but he knows that he owes it to her to come here and free her of him. She’d never come with him, and because he doesn’t want to deal with her rejection, he thinks telling her that he, under no circumstances, will change, is the kindest thing to do. She won’t have to wake up and wonder if he’s going to come back for her.
Utahime pauses, which gets his attention. He’s only a few feet behind her, and they’re on a quiet street. She turns around slowly, and he watches her face turn when she recognizes him, her hand coming over her mouth as she steps back, her eyes comically large.
“Hey,” he says, “it’s been a while.” He smiles, like he’s come back to see that movie, and Utahime wants to rip his face off of his stupid head.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” she asks. Her hand drops from her face when she finds her voice, and Suguru finds something reassuring in her anger. Satoru and Shoko had accepted his decision, more or less. He expected them to react this way, and he’s a little disappointed that they just let him walk away.
“I wanted to see you,” he says, “tell you that I wasn’t going to be able to make it to that movie.” Utahime presses her lips together, and she doesn’t immediately respond.
“What were you thinking?” she asks, “why the fuck did you do that to all those people?” Utahime pauses, as she thinks over her questions, and then her face gets very calm, but the kind of calm she fakes when she’s trying to talk herself off a ledge. “Never mind, you don’t have a reason.”
“Actually,” he says, “I do.”
“Not a good one,” she replies, and Suguru feels the tendon in his neck rise.
“You weren’t there,” he says, “they caged two little girls, who are just like you and me—”
“Murder isn’t a solution—”
“Do you really think they care about us?!” he asks, not knowing why he’s even getting into this. “Think of everyone who has died to protect non-sorcerers, of all our friends and colleagues who will die, all for people who at best, don’t give a shit and at worst, want us all dead!” Suguru feels his righteous anger in his stomach, as he closes the gap between them.
“This is not the way to start that conversation,” she says, blinking up at him.
“The higher ups were never going to have the conversation,” Suguru replies, “people are going to keep dying, and they’ll tell us that’s just life. I don’t know about you, but I want to have an actual life—I don’t want to swallow curses for a living and then spit them back up to protect people who don’t just not care but are directly responsible for all the misery in this world. I’m going to make this world right.”
She can’t ever remember him being this angry. He was always calm and unflappable. As she looks up at him, she realizes that this is the truth of the person she loves. She should be scared, but instead, she reacts with anger—that he didn’t talk to her, that he hurt all those people, that he came here like he’s doing her a favor.
“Fuck you,” she says, getting in his face, “fuck you for killing those people, and fuck you for leaving, and fuck you for acting like you did the right thing.” She jabs her pointer into his collarbone, glaring right into his eyes.
“Yeah?” he says, “well, fuck you for staying.” Suguru has never really lost his temper with her, and Utahime doesn't really like this side of his personality.
“I don’t recall you consulting me on any of this,” Utahime hisses, her face scrunched up.
“Because I can see you for who you are, and you’re not strong enough to come with me.”
Contrary to popular belief, you don’t need to murder someone to strike them dead. Utahime feels her heart stop in her chest, her mouth falling open, before closing, and opening again. There are no words in any language for what he just did to her. Satoru is just an asshole, and Shoko reassures her, but it’s Suguru’s opinion that truly matters to her. She thought that she’d won his respect after they started working together. It feels like he actually hit her and told her that’s what he’s wanted to do all along.
“I would’ve done anything for you,” she says, meaning every word. She’d give him the breath right out of her body if he asked for it. Geto looks right into her eyes, clearly not believing her.
“We both know that’s not true,” he says in a quiet voice.
“How do you know?” she asks, breaking apart, “you’re not in my head.” Suguru decides to do something that he knows truly frustrates Utahime. He decides to take a step back, cross his arms, and watch her spin out.
“Why would I want to be?” he asks.
Suguru’s apparent indifference is emotional violence, and a part of Utahime wants to throw herself at him and tell him that they can go back to how things were, all he has to do is come back and face the consequences. That she loves him so much that she could will a better world for them into being. She meant it when she said that she’d do anything for him. But she doesn’t do that, because she has some dignity and she’s more comfortable with anger than sadness.
“You know what’s sad?” she asks, “you’ve lost yourself, but you think that you’ve figured all this shit out!”
“Do you want to love someone who doesn’t know who he is versus someone who has direction?” he asks, “because that’s what I have now!”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!” Utahime yells back, “I love you so much it hurts, and I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy!”
“Oh,” he says, “is that why you gave me the pills?” He steps closer to her, leaning right into her face, their foreheads almost touching. She can smell his breath, feel the heat radiating from his body. “You only ever wanted me to love you back.” Utahime’s face freezes, and he sees the look in her eyes when she realizes that he really said what he said.
“You wouldn’t have been happy?” she asks quietly.
“I wouldn’t feel alive like I do now.” It’s the kill shot. He knew he’d have to be cruel, but not even Suguru thought he’d go there.
Utahime doesn’t know why she isn’t dead, but she wishes she was. She just starts screaming, thumping his chest once, twice, before she starts hitting him, going hoarse. Suguru, who wishes he could take it back, endures it. A light goes on in an apartment, but surprisingly, no one is paying attention to them.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she shouts, “why are you doing this to all the people who love you!” She’s properly crying now, her sobs big and angry, and she keeps hitting him, but she can’t bring herself to hurt him. Suguru, who never wanted things to turn out this way, loses his resolve to commit to cruelty, and does something even worse. He steps forward, and wraps his arms around Utahime, who is just crying now, and she smooshes her cheek to his chest. “I hate you,” she hiccups, “I’m never ever going to forgive you for saying that.” Neither will she ever love this easily and freely again. Never ever.
Suguru sighs and holds her tighter. “You shouldn’t.” He looks up at the night sky because he doesn’t want to look down at her. He still needs the pills to sleep, and he’s still his mother’s soft boy, even though he killed her.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” she cries, “it’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair.” It hasn’t been since he watched Riko die after promising her that he and Satoru were going to protect her, that she was going to get to have a life, a real one.
“I just want to have your babies and love you forever,” Utahime’s voice breaks, as she admits to her stupid, girlish fantasies. The kinds that people would be right to mock her for having.
Suguru swallows all the saliva in his mouth, thinking about that life. He’s twenty, so he wouldn’t be able to promise her that, but he too, is a little sad that it won’t happen.
“I’m sorry that I’m not that person.”
“You used to be,” she hiccups, grabbing onto his sweater.
“Yeah, I guess I was.” Suguru lets go of her, prying her hands away by sticking his thumbs into her palms. He holds her wrists away, and wilts when he sees the tears and snot all over Utahime’s red, puffy face.
“Why didn’t you ask me to come with you?” she asks.
“Because you’d say no,” he says, “we both know that.”
“I would have liked the option,” she huffs, pulling away so that she can wipe her tears away, sniffing to try and get some of the snot back in her nose.
“I didn’t want to hear you say no.” Suguru has done all that he has done to avoid hearing her rejection, and in the process, he has emotionally destroyed the girl who loves him. Utahime’s face twists again, as she makes direct eye contact with him.
“You said all those things to me, just to avoid that?”
Suguru nods, and he’s such a coward, he looks away when she starts crying again. When he takes a glance, her hands are over her face, so he doesn’t have to see her expression. He puts a hand on her shoulder and squeezes.
“Take care of yourself,” he murmurs, like that fixes everything. “Live well.”
“How?” she sobs, “how am I supposed to do that?”
“I don’t know,” Suguru sighs, “but that’s what I want for you.”
He squeezes her shoulder again, before he walks away, leaving her on the street. That’s who he is now, the kind of guy who dumps a girl in public and leaves her in a thousand tiny pieces. He finds the closest payphone and calls Mei Mei, who doesn’t curse him out but tells him that he can’t come back now. You’ve crushed them all, and for what?
Now that he’s standing here, he doesn’t really know, but it’s too late to go back, so he steps forward into the night.