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It had been a terribly rainy evening. Grey clouds blotted out the sky, and rain came down like hail on your umbrella. The surrounding city scape was painted in melancholic blues and soft greens, mainly from the trees that hung over head of the sidewalks. Cars whipped by with little regard for the civilians unfortunate enough to be walking on the sidewalks nearby. One car in particular hit a small pot hole full of water, angering the old woman standing beside you at the cross walk, as you both were now soaked from head to toe.
Mina's message illuminated your phone with a soft buzz, as you fumbled around with your now drenched jacket, trying and failing to un jam it's rusty zipper. Slick fingers clumsy pulled at the tiny peice of metal. Your frustration making you accidentally break the zipper all together. "Fuck." You muttered, appalling the haggled women beside you, as she shot you a disapproving side-eye, one you pointedly ignored.
Your phone buzzed again. This time you answered. "Mina I'll text you in a minute, im almost home okay". You huffed out, as she finially relented, and hung up.
The red hand finially turned white, signaling it was finially time to cross. You jammed your phone into your pocket as soon as you stepped off the sidewalk. At least you tried to, before your beloved cellular device missed the safety of your jacket pocket by a millimeter, and clattered to the ground. The sign counted down the minutes, while you bent down to grab your phone and check the damage. A bike rushed by you, making you lose balance, clearly in a hurry to cross, as you slipped and hit the ground with your phone.
"Did you remember to pick up the ice cream?" Satoru's voice cracked through the static of Suguru's phone as he drove. "Yes, but you're breaking up Satoru" Suguru readjusted his grip on the steering wheel.
"Haha, must be that shitty cell service of yours, I told you you should've went with the same plan as me" Satoru laughed, and Suguru sighed. "I'll be home soon, love you." Suguru hung up after his husband bid his own farewells from the other end of the line. Tossing his phone into the passenger seat, Suguru sped up slightly, more or less in a rush to get home. It was his and Satoru's 5th anniversary.
They were married straight out of high-school. Satoru had helped pull him out of his depression, and been his shoulder to cry on during the whole thing. They had only grown closer, till eventually Satoru finially popped the question. Much to none of their friends surprise, (especially Shoko's) they were getting married. Satoru's family hadn't approved of course, and threatened to cut their own son out of their will. One talk with his old man, and he was quick to retract his threat all together, realizing he couldn't risk losing his prodigy of a son. Now years later, and they're still happily married.
The car picked up speed slightly once again, Suguru had to work overtime again, and his stop at the grocery store had already taken much longer than he expected. He was eager to get home. The road was completely clear, and most cars, had vanished somewhere behind him by now. A bend was quickly approaching, one mostly obstructed by the trees on both sides of the road.
He was clear to keep the same speed, until a shape in the distance on the crosswalk ahead caught his eye. Right on his next turn at the crosswalk, what looked like maybe a duffle bag, or some clothes, laid. It was hard to see through the heavy rain and his windshield wipers. The light had just turned green, and whoever was finished crossing settled on the other side.
Suguru hit his blinker, before the supposed duffle bag sat up. It was too late by then.
A sickening thud, then the crash of a windshield boomed in his ears, as his car veered off onto the sidewalk with a loud screeching swirl. Suguru's airbag depleted, as he rushed out of the car tripping over his own feet. His entire windshield had a massive indent, with shattered glass all over his hood. Laying almost 20 feet back was a women, sprawled out on the ground. At least from what he could tell, her limbs where all at wrong angles, jagged bones stuck out of skin, and her head was laying limply to the side. Blood was smeared across the asphalt like red paint. Suguru followed the grim trail.
His heart was pounding in his ears, ringing like a bell in his head. Each gasp of breath he took felt like inhaling glass. The closer he got the worse it looked. He was moving on nothing but adrenaline. Squeezing by the small crowd of people that had begun to gather around, Suguru all but fell to his knees. Trembling hands didn't know what to hold first. Her face was bloodied, hair stuck to her neck and face, matted with sticky blood and rain.
He removed her hair from her neck to check for a pulse, anything.
"Oh my god-" one woman muttered. "I'll call an ambulance!!" Another man began to back off. "NO!" Suguru's voice cut the man off, "She's still alive! I'll take her to the hospital myself" Suguru swore he could still feel your heart pumping, he could hear it even, if only faintly it was still something, it was proof of life. Suguru gathered your mangled form into his arms and darted to his car within seconds.
He wasn't thinking rationally he knew that, but he had to do something. Satoru and him both were more than loaded enough to take care of you, to pay for all of your medical bills, everything. He'd make this right, and then everything could just go back to normal again. Suguru pulled out, his car resiliently humming to life despite the damage. Satoru and his shared apartment was close enough, he'd worry about fixing his car later.
The car was pulling into the in building parking lot within minutes. Suguru had wrapped you in his coat, hiding most of the damage, and to warm your body. You were ice cold. He carried you bridal style to the elevator, before punching in the floor number.
The yellowish tint of the elevator light above had illuminated your face with an olive hue. Your jaw was slightly slack, and one of your eyes just barely hung open, from the way your head was tilted back. Suguru took a moment to stare at you, guilt quickly rising to the surface and making him frown even harder. He tapped his foot impatiently as the doors finially slid open.
Suguru rushed out, making a beeline for his and Satoru's apartment before anyone could come out and see him, and possibly call the police.
Satoru answered the door, grinning at the arrival of his husband, however when his blue eyes trailed lower, his smile fell from his face entirely. "Suguru what the fuck!?" Satoru stumbled back, before meeting Suguru's pleading eyes. His horror turned to confusion. "Please, Satoru I need your help." Suguru stumbled inside, barley kicking his shoes off, before gently depositing you onto the counch, with the kind of care a mother would have for a newborn. Satoru rushed over, to stand beside his husband. "What is this, what the fuck happened? Why haven't you taken her to the hospital yet?" Satoru's head whipped around to face Suguru. "Its- its a long story, please Satoru. We- I need to fix this. She's still alive." Suguru's pleading eyes reached his husband's. Satoru swallowed thickly before nodding and darting off to retrieve their immediate medical supplies. He'll have to call in a doctor as well.
The ticking on the wall felt like it was driving Suguru insane. Each soft noise matched the slow rhythm of your heartbeat. Satoru had helped to bandage the bulk of the damage, you hadn't moved or even flinched once. Medicine had dissolved on your tongue, before Suguru helped you to swallow it, by slowly pouring water from a bottle down your throat. But your heart still pattered faintly in his ears. Insistently so. He knew you're alive. Suguru's hand found yours. His large fingers interlocked with your smaller cold hand. "I'm so sorry." Suguru muttered, stroking your knuckles softly. Satoru watches from the doorway nearby.
The following days, Suguru had been convinced it was his life's mission to take care of you. Even going so far as to wash you, like you were his living doll. Satoru hadn't once enjoyed this, any of this. At first, when he phoned his private doctor Mr. Yamamoto to the apartment, the old man had wrinkled his brows at the scene before him. Satoru had stood over the man's shoulder the entire time, as he checked your pulse, while Suguru trembled like a guilty dog with you in his arms.
Suguru hadn't seen or heard whatever muffled conversation his husband and Mr. Yamamoto had. He rocked your still body like a broken child. Whispering his apologies.
The water was warm. Satoru sat, knees to his chest, and Suguru sat with his knees bent, and your limp form slotted against his chest. There was something nightmarish about the scene before him. His loving, and level headed husband, that has always been the voice of reason, (even to Satoru's own shenanigans) that he's known for almost 8 years now, was currently sitting across from him, a hollowed out look in his eyes, and a corpse laid against his chest. Horrific didn't even begin to describe it.
Satoru had been there for Suguru during his first psychotic break. Suguru had developed such a deep depression during the end of their high-school years together, that he had eventually fell into psychosis. Satoru had nursed him all the way through it, but this? This was something else entirely, and Satoru knew he was partly to blame for it getting this bad. He had paid off Mr. Yamamoto during his visit where Suguru couldn't whiteness it, just enough to keep his mouth shut. Thankfully (or not) you didn't seem to have any family that were going to be collecting you either, not one person had come looking. Satoru didn't think his husband would be able to handle the actual reality of this situation. You were long dead, you had been since he first arrived with you in his arms.
"Satoru?" Suguru crooned, smiling softly. Satoru's eyes snapped up at the sound of his husband's soft voice. "Yes..?" Suguru stroked your hair idly. "She wants you to wash her hair this time."
Satoru froze. "What?"
"Wash her hair, Satoru." Suguru repeated calmly.
Your scalp was stiff, and the roots of your hair where all but dead. Suguru smiled softly, like a lover watching the people he cared the most about from afar. A chunk of your hair fell out into the tub, Suguru didn't even flinch.
Satoru almost threw up, immediately he gagged, and Suguru frowned.
Shoving you away, Satoru jumped out of the tub, doubling over and vomiting his guts up in the toilet nearby.
"Don't pay any mind to him sweetheart..." Suguru murmured into your ear, pulling you back upright. Like a doll, he configured the mangled corpse back into position against his chest. Satoru hadn't really realized till now how much the color of the tub water had changed. It was murky. Bloodshot blue eyes trailed up to their mirror where a few flies had begun to linger.
Suguru never once moved, and never complained of a smell. He was perfectly content.
"Suguru...that thing- her! She's dead!" Satoru's raspy voice cracked, as he looked over his shoulder to his husband. He had to fix this. He had to snap Suguru out of it.
"She's not. She's not dead. I can still hear her heartbeat." Suguru lifted your corpse, pressing your chest to his ear, as if to test his theory. Thump, thump, thump. Just like he thought. Satoru, for once was wrong.
The bathroom light bulb flickered ahead. Suguru had complained in the past about it, that it was going to go out one of these days, and that he'd have to change it soon. He never did get around to doing that. Not before this happened, whatever this even is.
Guilt is a sick thing. It makes you irrational, emotional, frustrated. It drives many to their breaking points, frying every end of their nerves till there is nothing left. Satoru supposes that's what happened to his beloved husband. Suguru could only handle so many deaths, before he lost it completely. He blamed himself back in high-school when that little girl Riko had died, then when their underclassmen had soon followed in an ill fated accident of his own. Now this.
Satoru stood in the hallway, barely illuminated by the evening sun, warm rays of light painted his pale face in a soft orange. The tall white draping curtains he had carefully picked out, where partly drawn. He didn't dare move an inch to open them, as he watched Suguru stuff food into the mouth of the rotting corpse, sitting across from him.