Chapter Text
Satoru’s grief was a quiet affair…much to Shoko’s surprise.
He was always so boisterous, so energetic, so…annoying, that she expected him to go off the rails entirely when Geto’s (because that’s who he was now, not Suguru; probably never Suguru again for all she cared) actions came to light. She expected to see a story on the news about some massive explosion or something equally dramatic, but nothing. Instead, Satoru came home, silently, almost slinking through campus like an abused dog. Only reason she even noticed his return was because she’d been perched on a windowsill facing the school entrance, a lit cigarette pinched between her lips.
He walked up the stairs without any of his usual flair, hands shoved deep into his pockets. His shoulders were hunched forward, his head tilted down towards the walkway. The wind tousled strands of his stark white hair, the usual messy locks tugged up into actual spikes, likely evidence of fingers raking through the disorganized mop. She shifted on the window, the wood creaking beneath her weight, but he didn’t even look up. He knew she was there. He had to know. But he didn’t bother to lift his head even in greeting. Her lips tightened around her cigarette, smoke curling up from its tip.
This felt wrong, so unbearably wrong. Unease burned like acid at her stomach, stung with each breath of smoke-infused air. Sighing, she leaned back, her head thudding against the edge of the window. But what could she do anyway? This was Satoru’s problem to work through. He’d figure it out. He was strong enough. He was the strongest for a reason.
She paused, her brows drawing together.
He was the strongest…?
No, that wasn’t quite right.
Satoru was still just a man. A man with emotions just like anybody else.
The cigarette burned down to nothing as she sat there, staring, her hand lifting to pluck the remnants from her lips and drop it onto the ground below with a disappointed sigh. Her eyes slipped closed, mouth tasting of ash. The doors to the school creaked open and closed, the sound echoing loud in the silence that had blanketed over everything. It was as if the world had gone on pause…so as to not burden one who had lost so much.
Her eyes drifted open, the sky a bright blue overhead without even a single cloud to blemish its perfection. Grief, huh? Yea, she supposed that was a good description for this thick feeling clinging to each of her thoughts. Loss was loss…no matter if said person was living or not. Releasing a slow breath, she sat up, hair spilling down from where it’d been tucked behind her ear. The room beside hers was silent.
“This sucks,” she muttered, reaching up to rub at her aching eyes with nicotine-stained fingers.
Well…she supposed she’d just have to look out for him now. Someone had to, now that she was the only one left who could.
Her jaw clenched, teeth grinding just behind tense lips. Anger burned deep in her chest despite the calm façade she preferred to show to the world, an anger that burned for herself, for Satoru, for the gaping hole left behind by Geto’s departure. For Geto refusing to talk to her about anything that had any meaning whatsoever. For Satoru leaving them both in the dust as he coped from a failure and a loss in the only way he knew how.
For this world for setting so much weight on the back of mere teenagers.
So yea, she was angry. So incredibly angry. But what could she even do with that anger? She was a healer, not a fighter. Geto was gone and she was furious with him, but she had to keep pushing on regardless. Cuz the world kept moving, the sun kept shining, the birds kept singing their soft melodies on the wind. She swung her legs back inside the room, shoulders slumping over briefly. Her hands gripped the edge of the windowsill, the wood groaning beneath her fingers.
Behind her, a courtyard sprawled out, empty and alone. A corner of it was flecked with ash and cigarette remains, despite their attempts to hide the evidence of their shared habit. She could still hear laughter ringing in her ears as they milled about, smoke thick in the air and stories swelling with each breath. That smile…so bright and happy. He hadn’t looked like that when she saw him in Shinjuku, with his cheeks hollow and his smile wan.
He hadn’t looked like that in a while if she was being honest with herself.
She’d tried to help. God knows she tried. But he refused her any time she offered, their smoke breaks fading into silence and haze.
Eventually, he’d stopped coming altogether.
Huffing, she stood, fishing around in her pockets for her lighter, the lighter Geto had given her, and slammed it down onto her counter. The plastic creaked and shattered, the fluid leaking out onto the marble surface.
It gleamed red in the sunset.
“That fucking asshole…making us clean up his mess like he has nothing to do with all this…When I get my hands on him one day…he’s going to regret all this…”
She stepped away from the counter, the lighter fluid dripping from her fingers like blood from an open wound. But she paid it no mind. Sure that’d been her only lighter, but oh well.
She’d have to go out and buy a new one at some point…so why not make that time now?