Chapter Text
A stumble, then silence. The wood creaked. Breathing halted for a second.
Night had come and blanketed the Tokyo Jujutsu Technical School in shades of blacks and blues, reminiscent of the sky they had originated from. No light shone out of the windows. Grey clouds moved slowly, for there was a storm that had recently stopped. The ground was still wet and people went to hide their umbrellas. Everything was returning to calmness.
It was stained by a flash of white and sounds of heavy panting.
Satoru forgot what he came for again. Too much running had made his brain foggy, so he stood there waiting for the oxygen to come back in his systems. His quick, sharp breaths cut the stale air, and then he ran again. The school was always too large for Satoru before, but now it has become too small. Darkness covered the long pathways, causing some hits that would’ve stopped him in his tracks if he weren't on the verge of screaming. Water and sweat from the same body mixed together and dropped to the floor as bursts of adrenaline moved Satoru’s body. His senses were fucked, almost completely covered by rage and some form of grief. God, what the hell was he still doing with those feelings? Hadn’t he rid them?
Once Satoru reached his room, he clawed at the door to open before huffing out a “Shit.” All his actions for the past hour were close to animalistic, baring slightly stained teeth like he was about to tear apart. After focusing on grabbing the handle and forcing the door, he rushed to his bed. It sat still, neatly made from the morning’s organization of the room he prided himself on. His focus was more on the nightstand which held his smaller belongings. It was a deep brown color with a silver lamp positioned on its edge, holding 3 drawers that had different designations of where to put things. The lamp illuminated the top, where there was nothing but a few tissues and a leftover plastic bag. The shade of wood coloring reminded Satoru of his best friend, and the thought of him moved Satoru’s mind forward. His hands reached for the handles and tore the drawers open. He was feverishly looking for his phone, his out-grown (and bloodied) nails lightly scratching everything he touched. His eyes were squinting and dilated, tears dried up and eyelashes trying to keep rainwater from fogging his view.
“I swear to fucking- Where the hell- Shit, shit, shit- Did I?- When- Fuck,” He spit out his thoughts like a shaky lifeline, no longer caring if his croaky voice pierced the veil of strange silence he usually secluded himself in. This wasn’t usual, and he wasn’t willing to stay quiet, and dammit, where did he put it?
“No, no, no, no, no, no, wait.” Satoru jerked his head up from the nightstand. He looked down at his pockets immediately. He grabbed inside them too, and found his phone safe in his left pocket. Sighing loudly, he collapsed onto the cold floor and made the pain from his lower back disappear instantly with CRT. He flipped his phone open and immediately called the first number he saw.
Suguru, it read, and he began to hear his harsh breathing in focus for the first time as he put the phone up to his left ear. A growl left his mouth involuntary once the line began to ring. Short taps, then an away message. Satoru tried again, moving the phone to his face and staring at the glowing screen in panic, yet it gave him the same message as the last time. Again, message.
Again. Message.
Again. Message
Again. Message.
Again. Message.
Again. Message.
On his 9th try, there was something else. It wasn’t the away machine saying something robotic and cold into his ear. It wasn’t another pre-recorded answer, made at a time when there was no rush to call over and over. It was Suguru, the real one.
“Satoru.” Nothing more.
“Shit, Suguru, where the fuck did you go- I can’t- Listen to me- Just wait,” Satoru tried his best to spit out what he wanted to say. His entire body was shaking and his words had breathy stops, but he could only focus on the fact that his friend actually picked up the phone. He was actually there. Holy shit.
“Oh yeah. You’re still wondering.” Suguru sounded completely monotone and out of focus. He had no surprise or hint of emotion in his words. Now, Satoru was contemplating taking the answering machine back. The answering machine didn’t break a part of his heart with every word it spoke. He didn’t want to be here anymore. What was he doing again?
“What was that , Suguru? You didn’t have to do any of that, if you had problems you could just-” Satoru started.
“Fuck you. You’re the problem, you know. I leave for a while and you come back begging to talk to me like a lost old dog. You’re really disgusting. Take a hint for once in your privileged life. I don’t want to care for you anymore.” This was not Suguru. This could not be Suguru. There was no way it could be him. He did not talk or act like this, not even in his worst moments.
Was Satoru even there for them?
Satoru stood up again. He stared with an open mouth and watery eyes at the screen of his phone. He wished so violently he just ignored it. Wish he ignored the desire to call Suguru, to tell him that he needed to come back, that it wasn’t a problem he had problems, that he was going to be ok soon, that-
“Let me guess. You ran back to the school at the small, small chance of calling me and having me answer. You rushed through the halls and cried somewhere along the way.”
Not Suguru. It can’t be.
“You can’t shut up for once?”
Not Suguru. Satoru put the phone back up to his ear and clamped his mouth shut in a frown. His teeth hurt from the pressure.
“How do I tell you to never come back in a way that you’ll understand? Oh, I know.”
Everything started hurting. The world went out of focus again. Satoru wiped away his tears with force before snorting out air and flashing his teeth and glaring at the wall. Fine, if Suguru thought he was a fucking dog, fine. He’d sink his sharpened fangs into flesh and hope the wound became infected.
“Listen to me. I don’t want you back. I don’t need you. Nobody did, at least not like a human. Ha!”
One more time. Satoru waited for the real Suguru to come back one more time.
“I won’t remember you after a while. I don’t think I needed you.”
The breaking point came and Satoru shut his phone quickly. His eyes shut for a moment before he slowly opened them.
Suddenly the world wasn’t spinning anymore. It was quiet again. Light from his lamp flickered a little, then stood still. Gentle raindrops from the roofs of the school hit the ground with a tap. Satoru took a shallow breath in and out. He straightened his back from the halfway curled posture he had held when calling Suguru (?). His expression showed no emotion, only droopy eyes and a slight frown. His eye bags made their reappearance below his eyes, a sight he would dismiss taking care of. Absent-minded, he opened his phone again.
This time, Suguru called Satoru. Did he want to finish his bereavement of his friend?
Was he even a friend anymore?
It didn’t matter.
Satoru tapped at his keyboard three times.
*67.
It stopped ringing.
It would never ring from that number again.