Chapter Text
The lighting was low and warm when Satoru walked out of the summer evening heat into the cool air of the air-conditioned bar. This was the first time he’d been back long enough to justify going anywhere other than hiding in his apartment between the string of business meetings and trips he’d been sent on over the past six months. Those always left him so tense and overstimulated that the thought of getting out anywhere made him feel sick. But that stretch was done now for the next foreseeable future, and he’d taken a few days to feel like a human again, so he thought he was finally stable enough to start exploring again. Sure, he knew this city like the back of his hand, but in a place as big and alive as Tokyo, there would always be something growing and changing to find.
Like this bar. It hadn’t been here, or at least not open, the last time Satoru had gone through this stretch of city maybe seven, eight months ago.
It was almost cozy inside. Dark wood paneling covered the floor and walls, private booths were tucked into the corners, small tables that almost looked like something you’d find in a café were spread around the room in a way that made it feel like everything could just flow by them rather than something to be worked around.
Satoru had already taken a few steps in before his attention turned to the actual bar itself. When he did, everything froze. He couldn’t move, his breath caught in his chest, the low murmur of the patrons faded until it seemed like he was hearing the voices with his head underwater. Because on the other side of that bar was a phantom of the one person he thought he’d never see again. The raven hair, the loose black clothes, the artist’s hands cradling a glass filled with clear liquid he was about to set in front of a woman. Those piercing amber eyes staring right back into Satoru’s own as if he too had seen a ghost.
Suguru.
His Suguru.
The woman said something, snapping Suguru out of the stunned trance he’d fallen into. Satoru watched – still rooted in place – as Suguru shook himself and turned back to the lady leaning on the counter, that oh so sweet fake smile back on his lips that could fool everyone he turned it on.
It had fooled Satoru, at the start.
It didn’t anymore.
The noise and lights all came back to him at once as his brain finally restarted. Satoru took slow and what he hoped were steady steps up to the bar, stopping a few feet away just as the woman was leaving.
Suguru turned back to him, that smile slipping halfway off his face, but not completely.
A thousand words rushed through his head of what he wanted to say, what he wanted to scream. But none of them would slow down enough for him to even grasp one to bring forward.
All that came out instead was a small and shaky, “Hi.”
Suguru laughed. A short, abrupt sound laced with disbelief. “Hi. Hi. Right.” He looked over at the clock behind the bar, and his shoulders fell. “Okay. Good.”
He came around the bar at a perfectly reasonable pace, but as soon as there was nothing between them anymore, Suguru all but tackled him. Satoru locked his arms around Suguru’s shoulders as he stumbled back a step from the force of his embrace, holding him just as tight. Neither said anything, and neither cared about the glances being cast their way by patrons and other workers. Satoru buried his face into the side of Suguru’s head, the soft locks restricted in its bun – the same one he’d always had before – silky against his skin. He was taller than Suguru, now, he noted. Suguru’s head slotted perfectly next to Satoru’s neck.
He was shaking.
They both were.
Suguru pulled away first and stared in shock at Satoru. That fake smile mask was completely wiped off his face.
Satoru found his words first. “How long have you been back? How are you doing? How are you here? What happened?”
The words fell out of him in a rush. Suguru chuckled, his face full of awed endearment.
Satoru tugged him towards the nearest table. He didn’t want to put half of his attention into making sure he remained upright. He wanted everything he had to be always and only on Suguru.
Suguru hesitated before sitting down gingerly. Satoru’s eyes sharpened, and he was glad his shades hid that from Suguru. Satoru always assumed the worst – he knew that. Suguru had just gotten off a who knows how long shift. He’d always been the steady one of the two of them, the grounded one. He was fine.
Suguru folded his hands in front of him on the table, fidgeting with a ring on his right index finger. He took a moment before answering the string of questions Satoru had thrown at him.
“I got here about six months ago. I’ve been… fine. Good.” He breathed a laugh without much humor in it. “How I’m here and what happened are longer answers.” He glanced back at the clock again nervously. His eyes narrowed before his hand went to his pocket and pulled out a small notebook and pen. He scribbled something before tearing the sheet out and handing it to Satoru. “This is my number. It will go through, this time. I don’t have the amount of time we’d need to talk about this. Tell me when you’re free, and we will fix that.”
His eyes were so earnest, almost desperate. Satoru’s heart melted a little bit more even as suspicion began to swirl in his gut. He’d been fine. The hesitation hadn’t been missed.
Satoru nodded and took the paper from him, clasping Suguru’s hand in his as he did so. He didn’t let go.
“Are you okay?”
Another quiet laugh. A smile that wasn’t quite as fake as his usual, but Satoru could still tell was far from genuine. A nod.
“I’m okay, Satoru. It’s okay.”
He said Satoru’s name as if he was caressing delicate velvet, the syllables cradled on his tongue like something precious.
Suguru squeezed his hand back tightly. The paper was getting crumpled between them, but Satoru didn’t care. He wanted this more. He would still be able to read it. Satoru pulled his hand back reluctantly, setting the paper in front of him while he fished for his phone in his pocket with the other. He opened his contacts and added the new one before sending a simple “hi” to the other end. He didn’t want to risk losing the piece of paper between now and when he got back to his apartment.
A moment passed, then a phone vibrated on the other side of the table, muffled by denim. Suguru smiled. A real, small smile.
Satoru went to grasp his hand again, but this time Suguru pulled back. It was only slight, but it was enough. Satoru stopped and tried to bite down on the hurt that spiked through his chest.
Suguru drew in a breath to say something, but then his phone vibrated again.
And again.
And again.
The small light that had begun to grow in his eyes dulled, replaced by a hint of anxiety. He fished his phone to open the unknown text, and froze.
“Fuck.”
He typed something quickly, and shoved it back to where he got it. The chair scraped back against the floor as Suguru stood up abruptly.
“I’m sorry, I have to go. I’m late, I’m sorry. The clock here must need new batteries, it’s later than I though it was. My partner’s expecting me. I’m sorry.”
Satoru’s heart plummeted.
His partner.
Right.
Why had he thought Suguru wouldn’t have moved on, like he hadn’t?
Satoru forced what he hoped looked like an understanding smile onto his face as Suguru backed towards the door.
“I’m so sorry, we will talk later, it just can’t be now. I’ll send you my schedule? I want to see you.” The string of words fell from his mouth, too fast to be calm.
Calm, collected, confident. That’s what Suguru had been.
What happened to make him lose that.
Purposefully not thinking first, Satoru stood, took the three strides to catch up to Suguru, and pulled him into another hug.
“It’s okay. I missed you, so much. I’m here if you need me now. Just…tell me if you do.” This time, he didn’t add, but Suguru still heard it.
Suguru hesitated before returning the hug. He nodded against Satoru’s neck.
“Okay. I will.”
Satoru didn’t believe him, but it would have to be enough for now.
He let him go and took a step back. He watched as Suguru disappeared out the door. He stood rooted where he was for what could have been hours or only a few seconds.
Then he walked out of the bar back into the slowly cooling summer air and retraced the path he’d taken not even a full hour ago back to his apartment.
Please, he prayed to every deity he didn’t believe in. Don’t let this summer end like the last.