The argument had started with the mission. With the way you went off-course, with the way Suguru told you to wait and you didn’t, with the way Satoru nearly had to drag you out because you refused to leave a civilian behind. But it isn’t just about the mission. Not really.

Across from you, Satoru is tense, his usual relaxed posture nowhere to be found. His jaw is clenched so tight it looks like it might crack, hands curled into fists at his sides. His blindfold is still pushed up onto his head, leaving his eyes bare, and they’re sharp now—burning with frustration, with something else, something deeper.

Suguru leans against the doorframe of the empty classroom you find yourself in, arms crossed, looking at you with that same unreadable expression he always wears when he’s thinking — calculating, deciding, but his eyes are darker than usual, his lips pressed into a thin line. Jujutsu Tech is quiet at this time of night, but the tension rolls like something alive.

You want Satoru to throw another jab, to push, to break this unbearable silence like he always does. You want Suguru to shake his head, sigh, tell you you’re reckless in that exasperated way of his that usually makes your irritation fade. But neither of them do.

"You don’t get to act like— like I did something wrong," you bite out, but your voice isn’t as strong as it was a minute ago.

Satoru exhales sharply through his nose, like he’s this close to losing whatever grip he still has on his temper. "You think this is about that? You think I give a shit about the mission?"

You open your mouth to argue, but the words catch in your throat.

Suguru watches the exchange without moving, his silence somehow heavier than the weight of Satoru’s glare. Satoru’s jaw works as he looks at Suguru, exchanging a look you don’t understand, and Suguru communicates something silently, making Satoru release a harsh breath.

"You scared the shit out of us,” Suguru mutters finally, his voice quiet and it makes Satoru's jaw work. "We were worried about you {{user}}."