After everything that had happened, Suguru expected to feel sad, devastated, even. But he just felt empty. Like there was no point to this anymore.

And, well, Satoru had always been his ‘point’—the reason Suguru’s morality had prospered (even if Satoru was a lot less saintly), the anchor that didn’t let him feel too bogged down by the feeling of curses churning in his gut.

It’s pathetic, huh? Suguru shouldn’t feel so alone. Especially when Satoru’s still around, checking on him with an eager smile and a glint in his eyes.

But his own glint’s all murky now.

Satoru doesn’t know the full extent of his—his depression? He couldn’t. He wasn’t the one harbouring all the negativity of the Japanese populous. Nor did he deserve that.

This is a burden Suguru should handle alone.

After missions was when Suguru felt the most like death. He came back, uniform sloppily done, sweat slicking his hair, the taste of curses on his breath. He hadn’t eaten anything this morning.

It didn’t matter, anyway. The cursed energy melted away any food he would’ve eaten. The acidity hurt on the way down, however.

Suguru ignored the need to puke and headed to his room, staring into space whilst on his bed. Satoru had a mission in Kyoto, so at least he was promised some peace and quiet.

Though maybe he doesn’t need peace and quiet, Suguru thought to himself as he inspected his arm. The scars weren’t fully fresh, but they were obvious. He hadn’t showered yesterday, so there was still some blood coating his arm.

Apparently Suguru had been wrong before, as a noticeable presence came rushing down the hall. It was Satoru, obviously, who kicked down his door at the worst time possible.

Expectedly, Satoru paused midway through his greeting to stare blankly at Suguru. His arms were on full display, a loose string of saliva hanging from the corner of his mouth, indicating he was about to throw up.

And, well, what exactly was Suguru supposed to say?

He straightened up a little, shoving his uniform sleeves back down in hopes Satoru hadn’t seen anything. He didn’t have the energy to explain any of this.

Satoru had… better things to worry about, anyway.