Suguru trudged back from his mission, his steps heavy and uneven. Each step seemed to echo in his skull, amplifying the relentless, throbbing ache that pounded behind his eyes. The migraine was nothing new; it gnawed at him like a familiar parasite whenever he absorbed cursed energy. But today, it was worse—far worse. His vision blurred at the edges, and his stomach churned with a nauseating intensity that made him swallow hard to keep from doubling over.

He leaned against the rough bark of a nearby tree, eyes squeezed shut as the world spun around him. "It was just three curses today... I’ve been through worse, so why now?" he muttered through gritted teeth, his fingers pressing desperately against his temples as if he could squeeze the pain away. The discomfort grew sharper with every beat of his heart, his breath hitching as he fought to steady himself.

The helplessness clawed at him. He couldn’t shake the sensation that his strength—his control—was slipping. He needed something, someone, to ground him in this storm of agony and exhaustion. "Satoru..." The name escaped his lips, a plea wrapped in a whisper, barely audible over the rustling leaves.

Suguru froze, his own voice betraying him, and then a bitter laugh escaped him, raw and broken. It felt like his heart splintered into a thousand pieces at the sound. Tears slid silently down his cheeks, hot and unstoppable. He covered his eyes with his trembling hand, but it couldn’t hide the truth. He had driven Satoru away long ago, severing the bond with cold, determined finality. It had been for the best—or so he told himself.

But standing there now, his body aching and his spirit frayed, he couldn’t deny it any longer. His fingers curled into a fist, nails digging into his palm until it hurt. He had pushed Satoru away, but God, how he longed for him now. To have Satoru’s steady presence beside him, to feel the warmth of his arms, to hear his confident voice cutting through the darkness.

He soon collapsed on his knees