He wanted to talk to somebody, anybody, about what was going on. He had run into his room, Kashino's name on the tip of his tongue, ready to ask for advice. But that wouldn't work, would it? His feet had taken him to Andou's door, but hearing his roommate's voice inside repelled him. It was hard trying to do anything when his best friends were all tense, and part of it… it was his fault.
A week passed before Kashino was reassigned rooms, switching with Andou's old roommate. There were awkward introductions and muffled crying in his pillow as he tried to recall the good times. It felt like losing his dad, all over again. Except everybody was alive and just drifting apart, slowly slipping past his outstretched hands.
Time became a mess for him. Seconds were hours, days were minutes. His tongue grew heavy with hesitation, and eventually, the team stopped talking, at all.
"That's it!" Unfortunately, the teacher was less than impressed.
Satsuki cringed, turning to the stern woman. He tried to smile, though it felt more like a grimace. "Sorry, it's just been a bad day, please," he tried to reason.
He didn't expect the excuses to work. "Bad day? More like bad month!" she ranted, bringing a hand to her forehead as she sighed. "We're going to have to break Group A up." Without waiting, she had gone to fetch her clipboard, ready to resort and reassign.
From the corner of his eye, he could see their reactions. Kashino's fists clenching, unclenching. Andou's stiff shoulder and firm frown. And Ichigo… Ichigo's blank, teary gaze. He waited for somebody to protest, to cry out and ask for another chance. This was their group, the team they'd been with for so long! They were like family! You couldn't just break them up.
His cheeks hurt from the false smile plastered on his face as he bowed his head, accepting the situation. He couldn't do anything. He was useless.
He watched quietly as they were split up, his friends turning their backs to him and walking away. The hesitant Spirits looking at one another, but unable to speak. Unable to fix the gaping hole growing between all of them.
Even as the girls on his team tried to catch his attention, he found himself fading in and out of existence. It was hard to care when everything was falling apart. His hands worked for him, creating roses from sugar and bringing a cake to life. But it was still nothing compared to what he used to make, what his team used to make. Despite the smile on his face, and it was getting harder to keep it up now, he couldn't help but hate his new teammates. They were a team, but not his team.
He didn't want to know what the others thought. Were they happy with the change? Glad to be apart? It would hurt to find out, so he kept his head down, cleaning up and then escaping as soon as class ended.
His hands fumbled for the vial of rose water tucked into his pocket, and he stumbled down to the rose gardens. He needed to feel at home, surrounded by one of the few things he loved. But with each step through the winding maze, he remembered. Ichigo crying, the coffee, the anger, the regret, the guild, the fear. He remembered and it made him sick. He missed his friends but were they even really his friends anymore? This Kashino wasn't the Kashino he knew. This Andou was withdrawn and cold. This Ichigo… This Ichigo probably hated him.
"Satsuki-kun," Café whispered, floating on his shoulder blade.
He whimpered, walking until he found himself by the lake. Hurriedly, he pulled his shoes off, rolling up his pants so they wouldn't get soaked, and tiptoed into the cool water. Finally, he spoke. "Did I do the right thing?" It didn't sound like him – it sounded weak, pathetic, and completely unconfident. Even he wasn't himself anymore.
His Sweets Spirit smiled at him, gently patting his cheek. "You did what you thought was best."
A scowl spread on his lips. "So I was wrong!" he snarled, losing his balance and falling into the water with a loud splash. He was so tired. He couldn't find the energy to get up, so he sat there, submerged.
The day seemed to pass him by, and soon, it was dark. Only when he started sneezing did he get up, blindly following Café back to his dorm. The cold burrowed into him, and he shivered.
He hated feeling hopeless. As he stripped clothes and sat on his bed, towel in hand, he tore himself apart. Useless. Pathetic. Selfish. He bit his lip and brought the towel to his hair, roughly drying it. When the teachers came around to say good night, he gave a weak smile and tucked himself under his sheets. And he fell asleep, to the sound of a car crashing and a little boy crashing, asking himself what he had done wrong.
He knew this dream.
Or he thought he did, until he ran up to the car, like always, "Dad!" on the tip of his tongue… and found Ichigo.
He woke up with a silent cry, hand to his chest and covered in sweat, but at least the sun was up. At least he didn't have to go back to sleep again. So with vacant eyes, Satsuki got up and did what he had to. He got dressed and brushed his hair, plastered a smile on his face and waved at his classmates. And when he saw Rumi, and of course Ichigo, he gave them a greeting and kept on walking, knowing if he stopped, he might break down.
It didn't help of course. He lasted a total of eight hours before giving up.
He missed his friends. He missed having somebody to confide in.
He missed Ichigo, and her smile, and the way she always cheered him up.
Ahah. It's been a while. Sorry to keep you guys waiting. The gang is falling apart.