He didn't want to hold out hope that someone had captured Suguru with their own eyes. After all, that same man had been dead for the last 10 years. Satoru should know. He was the one who made that certain.

He doesn't want to think about it. The way his mouth would run dry, his breath catching in his throat. His eyes widened just a sliver. He knew it was bound to happen.

Only Suguru knew how to draw these emotions. Only Suguru knew how to handle the sharpened edges of Satoru's yearning heart. Warm hands curving the notches.

So, with a deep breath, Satoru walks around that corner. And comes within metres of the man he thought he killed.

He was right about his own assumption. His mouth did run dry. His breath did hitch. His eyes did widen. Reality had a strange way of reuniting two parties.

Suguru stood under the soft glow of the streetlight, flickering above his head, basking his features in a gentle, white thrum of colour.

He felt his heart stutter Suguru's name. Each beat a letter of the one in his heart.

The one who will always have it.

"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you." Satoru whispered with an ache. They were together again.

Time had come to pass, but it was like nothing had changed. Not the distance, nor the absence of the love he let go.

Bound to this life, they were, forever, immortalized in their love.