Trying his best to deny the horrors he survived, Satoshi finds himself caught in the nightmare of the past.
Satoshi Mochida had always prided himself as being a fairly normal 17-year old. He's close with his family, has a close group of friends, a crush on his childhood-friend and was a B-average student. In his free time he played video games and spent time with said group of friends, going out or just staying indoors. Sure, his sister was a little odd, being way too immature for her age, but he still loved her. And sure, his best friend had a rough reputation, but he knew he was a good guy. And who could forget Satoshi's more timid nature, although he always took control of a situation whenever needed. It was safe to say that Satoshi Mochida was fairly normal, beloved by all he knew him, and fairly content with his life.
Until a certain rainy day changed Satoshi's entire life.
Admittedly, he felt he had been pretty lucky in Heavenly Host. He never dealt with spiritual possessions like Ayumi, or a sledgehammer to the head like Yoshiki; he wasn't chased by a serial killer like Yuka, and he certainly didn't have to deal with what Naomi went through. Satoshi was grateful he was able to protect his younger sister and his crush: he feared what would've happened to him if he failed to save them.
But the fact that Satoshi could call his experience 'lucky' is a testament to the horrors and hellish-fears that lurk in Heavenly Host. He considered himself lucky to have only seen mutilated corpses of high-school students similar to himself, lucky to have stumbled on his crush hanging by a noose - his fingers still bore scars from the frantic way in which he scratched the rope loose around her neck.
So when the brunette stumbled home that night, clutching his injured sister as if she might disappear, he decided to focus on his friends as much as possible. "After all," he thought, "They had it worse than me."
From that night on, Satoshi's entire life revolved around helping his friends while trying desperately hold on to his once normal life. He began waking up far too early for a teenager, alert and ready to comfort Yuka from her frequent nightmares, the young girl desperately crying out for her brother to save her. Satoshi would rush over to their connecting door to hug Yuka, telling her that he's here for her, that he'll never leave her, until eventually her sobs begin to subside.
Afterwards, they would get ready for school, Satoshi already feeling drained before the day even started. The Mochida parents, previously known for spoiling their daughter, took it to new heights after that night when their son staggered through their door with their heavily injured daughter, resulting from a supposed 'late-night assailant' after staying late at school. After that incident, Yuka was never without a rotating cast of psychiatrists and behavioural specialists, a small cocktail of nauseating-medication present with every meal. Satoshi hated seeing his once-bubbly sister reduced to a ball of dependency-laced anxiety that couldn't stomach food, but he was glad she was getting help, no matter how gradual the results were. Satoshi had none of this. After all, he got lucky.
His parents would drive Yuka to and from school, alongside her many appointments, constantly making sure she was never left alone. Satoshi preferred walking to school, so he could meet with Naomi.
Naomi wasn't faring much better than poor Yuka. The once outgoing tomboy was a mental wreck after that night. Her revelation to Satoshi (and subsequently the rest of the group) about her involvement in Seiko's death was a shock, even if no-one blamed her. This did provide some comfort, until all photos of Seiko and their deceased friends began to disappear. After that, it seemed as if she was in a mental ward every other week. It didn't help that he often heard about Naomi's awful fights with her mother.
"No matter how many times I describe her, she doesn't remember! She thinks Seiko's just my imaginary friend! As if she never existed! To her, I'm just some nutjob!"
This was a common conversation he and Naomi had on their way to school. He'd always comfort her, promising her that Seiko did exist and that they would never forget her. He meant every word he spoke. They would never forget their fallen friends, even if the whole world did.
Once at school, Satoshi would do his best to pay attention to class, but it was hard. He couldn't help but observe his clearly distracted friends, They all fidgeted more, paid less attention and more than once Ayumi and Naomi had completely broken down. No matter how much he wanted to do the same, Satoshi never allowed himself to. He had to be strong, for his friends who had suffered so much.
They spent as much time as possible together, eating lunches together and spending afternoons together whenever possible. They often didn't do much, truthfully. They just needed to be together, needed to be around people who remembered their old friends.
On afternoons that they weren't all together, or Satoshi wasn't with Naomi, Satoshi would find himself at Yoshiki's apartment. Neither could bring themselves to talk about that night, too desperate to hold onto the normality they once had. In this reality they created, their friends still existed, and all they had to worry about was their upcoming tests. It was a welcome break for both the boys, although neither would admit to the delusion they had so desperately crafted.
Once the day had concluded and he was back home, Satoshi would begrudgingly study, in between spending time with an ever-needy Yuka and chatting with Naomi. Sometimes they needed a distraction, other times they just couldn't stop thinking. Regardless of what they needed, it kept Satoshi up, leading to late nights and little sleep.
Satoshi's routine was exhausting and beyond tiring, but it kept him busy. It kept him thinking of anyone or anything but himself. And as long as his reality was kept inflated by his self-perpetuated sense of guilt and responsibility, then he had nothing to worry about.
But when Satoshi woke up one rainy, Wednesday morning, a small hole was pricked into his bubble. Yuka was away for the rest of the week, a 'girl's retreat' with their mother, and wouldn't be home until the weekend. Out of habit, he had woken too early, and couldn't bring himself back to the realm of unconsciousness. The rhythmic pattering of the rain kept him awake, finding it too reminiscent of the blood splatters and rattling windowsills of that school. Being too early to get ready for the day, Satoshi was left alone with nothing but his thoughts. No matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't distract himself enough from reliving that torturous night; he couldn't prevent the first hole from forming in his bubble.
The sound of his alarm clock snapped him from his conscious nightmare, preparing him for the long day ahead. He was already feeling exhausted, and completely drained. This feeling only worsened when he felt his phone buzzing gently, an incoming call from Naomi displayed on the screen. While most people tend to wait a few dial tones before answering the phone, most people don't know what it feels like to watch your childhood friend fight against the strangulation of a course, rough noose, calling out for you to save them; Satoshi picked up within a second, fearing the worst.
Naomi was not dying, nor was she in any danger. Rather, she was letting Satoshi know that she wouldn't be at school.
"My mum and I had a pretty big fight about Seiko…" Naomi trailed off, her voice trembling violently. "She's making me see a psychiatrist today, but since I've talked to all the local professionals, we have to go out of town."
'All the local professionals.' Satoshi could feel his heart sinking at those words, his sorrow for his crush weighing heavily on him. "I'm sorry, Naomi. You should take the rest of the week off, if you need to."
He didn't want to push her anymore then she already had been. It wasn't fair what she had to go through, and he thought it was too unjust that she was still being punished for a situation that wasn't her fault.
"Thank you, Satoshi. But," she paused, Satoshi hearing her take a deep breath through the phone. "I…want to see you." Both teenagers felt their faces warm with a gentle heat. "It was a rough night, and I know how hard it is on rainy days. So, I'll see you soon, okay?"
They both said their goodbyes, a pleasant feeling lingering around Satoshi.
But as his adrenaline dropped, and his heartbeat slowed back down, he felt the feeling fall flat at his feet, a single thought left lingering in its stead:
"Why is she worried about me?"
Naomi was in so much pain. She went through so much, and her hell was barely over. So why was she worried for him? He didn't deserve concern. Was he being obvious, too needy, too wanting? Satoshi simply could not understand it, but as he walked outside with his umbrella, he knew she was right about one thing.
It was hard on rainy days.
With each footstep he took, Satoshi felt increasingly reminded of how alone he was, with nothing but the rain to keep company. Every rain drop clattering against his umbrella felt like another bullet pressing deeper and deeper into his bubble. With no-one to stop him, his every thought brought him closer into the depths of his mind normally kept locked and guarded from his conscious mind. He watched himself in the water pooled by the side of the road, and saw his body suffocating in a tsunami of bugs and corpses. He watched as he fought off the spirits of the school from controlling his and his friend's mind, walking towards the infirmary by himself, his head pounding so hard he could taste blood trickle down his throat. These were thoughts and memories he hadn't felt consciously for a month, and he was never unconscious for long enough to remember them then. Satoshi had carefully crafted a routine that drained him mentally and physically, so as to never remember that night.
And for the first time since, he realised there was nothing lucky about his situation at all.
Still in his stupor, Satoshi's feet had dragged him to school and sat him down at his desk before he snapped into focus again. Looking around the classroom, he realised class had started. He was zoned out for all of homeroom and part of first period. As his eyes adjusted more, he saw the faces of Yoshiki and Ayumi watching him from their seats, clearly worried for him. Satoshi couldn't even remember if they had talked to him this morning, or if he had spoken to anyone. For now, he just wanted to lock up all the thoughts in his head, so he started taking notes.
Lunch time rolled around, and the three students sat together. Aside from a few unsavoury glances, they were isolated from the rest of their class, sitting alone at the back of the room. The usual four (three today), were never bothered by this, or at least not enough to make a scene.
Satoshi gauged that he had spoken to Yoshiki and Ayumi this morning, as neither questioned Naomi's absence. Instead, their focus was pressed onto Satoshi.
As soon as they started eating, Satoshi tried making menial small talk about one of their classes, but neither of his friends were having it.
Yoshiki spoke first, the closer of the two to Satoshi. "You alright today, man? You're pretty zoned out."
Zoned out. He supposed he was a bit out-of-sort, but that was nothing! He was just fine.
"I'm all good!" he responded, clearly forcing a jovial tone. "Just slept poorly. I didn't have Yuka to wake me up so I guess that just messed with my sleep clock."
Yoshiki and Ayumi looked at each other. They didn't have to say a word, but they knew they were thinking the same thing:
Bullshit.
Deciding now wasn't the right time to corner Satoshi, Ayumi sighed. "If you say so, Mochida. But don't force yourself." she replied, her voice entering her sharp, class-representative mode.
Satoshi laughed it off, and continued his lunch with mindless chatter. But he barely noticed, his mind too cluttered with sharp thoughts of deprecations.
"Why am I so upset?"
"Is it that obvious to them?"
"Why are they so concerned for me?"
"What is wrong with me?"
Satoshi didn't notice the day had ended, but the clock on the wall said otherwise. He did notice that the rain had not shown any side of stopping: he had felt the rain pulsating in his mind all day.
Packing up his belongings, he checked his phone, noticing a message from Naomi.
"I'm sorry, but I won't be here this afternoon. My mother wants to have a 'heart to heart' with me."
It was sent before lunch, but he hadn't felt his phone vibrate. A wave of guilt washing over him, he stepped outside to call Naomi.
From across the room, Yoshiki and Ayumi were watching him, clearly concerned for their friend. They felt cornering him at lunch would cause him to retreat into himself, but now; they were ready to strike.
"You're not working today, right Kishinuma?" said Ayumi. Having spent many afternoons outside the music room, she felt fairly confident as to what days Yoshiki worked.
Surprised by knowing his schedule, Yoshiki felt himself flush red, before quickly composing himself. "I'm not working today. You're not stalking me are you, Shinozaki?" he responded, flashing his signature smirk.
"It was a lucky guess!" Ayumi blurted out, her face beet red. Even though she was very flustered, it didn't stop her from noticing Yoshiki's slight blush. It only made her heart feel heavier.
Yoshiki laughed, happy to see Ayumi in a good mood. "Whatever you say, Shinozaki. But I understand, I'll invite him over to mine, try to get him to talk."
Glad he was on the same wavelength, Ayumi nodded. "I'll call Nakashima, it's important she's in the loop. Especially for Satoshi."
Yoshiki gave an approving grunt, scratching the back of his head. "I hope she's alright, though. Nakashima's had it pretty rough."
Ayumi felt a pang of guilt as a thought crept into her mind. "She feels like this because of your actions. It's all your fault." But she squashed the thought, thinking back to her discussion with Yoshiki on Monday, a familiar, rough voice ringing in her head.
'None of us blame you.'
'You didn't know what was going to happen.'
She didn't fully believe him, nor did she think their talk had solved everything. But it was enough for her to stomach her thoughts and deal with them later.
Looking up at Yoshiki, she gave a solemn smile. "She has, but she's getting better, thanks to Satoshi." Ayumi took a deep breath, the last of her feelings for her old crush fleeting. "It's a slow process, but they're doing a lot for each other."
Yoshiki silently agreed again. He hated how powerless they were to fix their situation: they couldn't just bring back their friends, or the fact that they ever existed. Even if there was a way, he didn't doubt it would be dangerous and coaxed in dark magic, and Yoshiki had seen enough witchcraft for one lifetime.
Clearing his throat, he decided to pivot the conversation away from Naomi and Satoshi. "Ah, Shinozaki, I've got work tomorrow, but I'll be in the music room on Friday." He felt his cheeks blush as Ayumi gaze crashed into him. "So you're welcome to join me, if you're free."
It was impossible to tell who was blushing more. They couldn't tell either, being too embarrassed to look at each other.
"Yes, I'll be there." was all that Ayumi could manage, her voice soft and gentle, before she rushed out of the room.
He couldn't help but feel a mixture of guilt and relief, for the weird circumstances that had brought them close. But at that moment, Yoshiki had a smile on his face, a tied happiness seeping out from the bags around his eyes. Keeping the feeling lingering in his heart, he went out to find Satoshi.
"It feels like ages since I was last here!"
The two boys had entered the dingy apartment, the cramped walls and lifeless air providing a sense of melancholic comfort to the brunette. The apartment was small and shabby, possessing a joint kitchen and living room, a small bedroom and a bathroom-laundry hybrid. There was a homely feel to it, despite the run-down neighbourhood it was located in. At the behest of Yoshiki's sister Miki, the apartment had been well-furbished and was semi-regularly cleaned, despite Yoshiki's annoyance at doing it.
"If it was up to me, I would only have a futon." Yoshiki had confided in Satoshi when he had first moved into the apartment. "So it's probably good she's on my side."
The two boys exited the rain, putting their damp shoes and soaked umbrellas away. Enticed by the warmth and dryness of shelter, they found themselves on the comfortable, three-seater couch.
"I'll get some tea. Wait here."
As Yoshiki put on the kettle, Satoshi looked around the room, the only remnant of his past-life unmarred. His own protective bubble had never been so fragile, so close to exploding, that he jumped at the blonde's invite before he had finished saying it. It had been a painful day, between his routine breaking, the constant isolation and dark clouds looming overhead, and all he wanted to do was pretend the day never existed. Yoshiki's apartment was the perfect place to do so.
He looked over at Yoshiki preparing a pot of tea, a fine, herbal blend. Without asking, Satoshi knew this was from Miki, who hated bagged tea. He couldn't help but chuckle at how much influence she had over Yoshiki's apartment. He was glad Yoshiki still had a family member who didn't hate him, and a younger sister who didn't have to experience—
Satoshi blocked the thought immediately, thinking instead to Naomi. She had sounded better then when they spoke that morning on their afternoon call, but she spoke with that same underlying sadness they were all used to.
"It's exhausting lying to psychiatrists. I just can't tell them what I need to."
He felt a twang of guilt deep in his stomach when she said that, but he swallowed it down, refusing to let it surface. He had no reason to show weakness, no reason to feel upset or anxious or to even think about that school. As far as he was concerned, he was fine.
As if to protest his thoughts, Yoshiki crashed down next to Satoshi, the tea pot and cups placed gently on the table.
"C'mon, let's play some Smash. No items though."
Yoshiki turned on his Wii and passed him a controller. Soon, all his worries and thoughts began to melt away, his focus drawn to the screen in front of him. His fingers were sluggish at first, his button presses unresponsive to the fast-paced flurry of combos thrown at him. By his last stock, he was finding his groove, his faux-reality slowly encasing him as he began shielding Yoshiki's moves, countering with a well-timed attack to take his first stock.
"You're not winning this dude." a disgruntled Yoshiki groaned, his eyes unattentively focused on the screen. "Just give in, you know I'm winning this."
"I'm bringing this back man!" Satoshi exclaimed, using the last of his sapped energy on this round. His fingers moved nimbly, gripped tightly around the controller, as he took a second stock from Yoshiki.
"This is just embarrassing, with how hard I'm beating you." Satoshi smirked, with Yoshiki offering an annoyed grunt. But Yoshiki's lead was too great, and after launching Satoshi's character off the stage, the round was won.
Satoshi slumped back on the couch, the adrenaline fading from his body as his fatigue began to return. Despite his defeat, he felt content. He felt accomplished.
He felt normal.
Satoshi looked over to Yoshiki, who was unmoving from his seat. "Well played man, ready for round two?"
Yoshiki's head fell into his hands, a deep sigh escaping his cracked lips. Satoshi noticed how dark his eyes were, his bags dragging down his hollowed cheekbones. He felt a small crack in his reality, in the imaginary world he had so meticulously crafted within the confines of this apartment. But before he could speak, Yoshiki opened his mouth, beating him again.
"What are we doing, man?"
The words crashed heavily on the floor between them, reverberating through the desolate room, pulsating through Satoshi's mind. Sounding too confident and unperturbed, Satoshi responded. "We're playing games in your apartment, dude. You alright?"
Yoshiki snapped to Satoshi, his eyes sharp and determined. "Yeah, we are playing games. On ourselves. All we do is sit here and pretend nothing happened because we're too scared to say anything!"
His harsh tone cut through Satoshi, the weight of his aggressive words clearly hitting him. Satoshi's bubble was slowly deflating, each word pressing deeper and deeper into its protective layers.
"Look, it's clear you're thinking about that school, and I want to help – we all do!" Yoshiki sighed, his heart rate pacing fast. He felt his words trying to trip on his tongue, but he refused. He spoke every word with full sincerity and meaning. "We can't do anything if you don't talk to us, man! You need to let us into your world, it's not good to hide away like this."
A large, uncomfortable silence permeated through the room. Yoshiki didn't know what to say next, and Satoshi simply wanted to fade into the couch, the harsh realities of his reality overwhelming him in a crashing wave of trauma.
Unable to stand another moment of uncomfortable silence, Yoshiki spoke again, his voice much more relaxed. "It's not easy for me to talk about this either. It took a lot from Shinozaki to get anything out of me, and even then I didn't really say anything." He paused, briefly losing himself in the memory of yesterday. "But she was there for me. And we're all here for you too, Satoshi. Especially Nakashima. She's been worried sick about yo-"
Satoshi abruptly stood up and started for the door. He couldn't be here anymore, he couldn't stand another second, being surrounded by the suffocating walls of the apartment and the words of his friend. The last piece of his once-normal life had finally vanished, the apartment already blending into the rest of his grey, dreary surroundings. Any remnants of his bubble was gone, carried away by the raging storm.
"Satoshi! Dude!" Yoshiki called out, rushing to his friend.
"I-I've gotta go…" Satoshi feebly said, his tear-filled eyes looking at the damp door mat. He couldn't even bother to make an excuse. He just had to disappear.
A wave of guilt and concern crashed into Yoshiki. He wished he was better at these things.
"Well… I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" he said weakly, following him to the door.
Nothing Yoshiki could say would've prevented Satoshi from walking out. His mind was made up, and he couldn't bring himself to stay for fear of saying too much.
"..Yeah. See ya."
The door closed in an instant, but to Yoshiki it took a lifetime.
"Shit."
A wave of deprecating-faliure washed over Yoshiki. How could he fuck up that badly? Satoshi was his friend, for God's sake! He reached for his phone, quickly dialling her number. She picked up before he even heard the dial tone.
"How did it go? I spoke with Nakashima before; she was already pretty worried about him."
Yoshiki took a deep sigh, before speaking into the phone. "Not so good. You might need to call her again."
Satoshi stumbled through the rain, not even bothering to open his umbrella. He didn't even think to, in his haste to leave. He was a wreck, the heavy droplets saturating his clothes, weighing him down further.
But he never noticed, his vision a blurred-mess of gore and rain. All he saw was pools of blood along the road, scattered bodies crunching under his feet like fallen leaves, visible to those cursed enough to survive. With every step he took, he felt bugs skittering on his clothes, their cold, lifeless limbs entering under his clothes and into his skin, rippling through his bloodstream.
By the time Satoshi was next conscious, the door to his house had closed, leaving him in the hallway of his dark, defunct home. He was alone, with nothing but his unadulterated, unfiltered thoughts to keep him company. His house, usually bustling with the life and energy of an average family, had never felt so endlessly inescapable, the warped labyrinthian layout encasing Satoshi deeper into his nightmare. He felt hopelessly lost in an unrecognisable environment, reality long lost, and undecipherable.
Taking slow, shuffling steps, he made his way to the kitchen, his body yearning for food he hadn't eaten. But as he opened the refrigerator, expecting to see the previous night's leftovers, copious amounts of blood and eviscerated gore began to pool out the fridge, staining the white appliance a death-riddled colour.
"Huah!" he screamed, slamming the door closed and jolting back in equal amounts of surprise and horror. The sudden movement caused his head to whip back in surprise, hitting the counter behind him with considerable force.
"Oh God, please no." he exclaimed, clutching his pulsating head in his hands. He could feel a sizeable lump forming on the back of his head. It didn't concern him, though, being more concerned for the horrors within the fridge before him. After summoning all the courage he had, he opened the door again, only to find his usual, normal, refrigerator, filled with delicious foods and beeping to be closed.
"Deep breathes, Satoshi. You're alright." He tried telling himself, completely unconvinced, as he stood up and grabbed his food, shutting up the innate beeping from the device.
Warming up his food in the microwave, he continued to attempt to convince himself that he was fine, that nothing was wrong, that everything would go back to normal tomorrow and he could keep playing pretend. The invasive microwave alarm cut him off, snapping him back to the hard truth: nothing would go back to how it was before. And he always knew it.
With his stomach shouting to be filled and his mind quaking for sustenance, Satoshi began to eat the warmed noodles. Only to find his body reject the food, the leftovers immediately exiting his body from where it came. It felt like bile going down his oesophagus, and after vomiting what little he attempted to eat, he gave up on food.
"Just take a shower and crawl into bed. It's all you need." Even walking the short distance up the stairs to the bathroom felt like an eternity, his mind racing with images of the nightmare he lived through. Soon enough, he found himself face-to-face with an exhausted teenager, who looked twenty years older.
Satoshi offered a sad, strained smile at his disgruntled, shaken reflection. The reflection didn't reciprocate, merely standing still. Satoshi reached out his hand, wanting to comfort his reflection, but it stepped away, flashing a frustrated grimace at Satoshi. The grimace quickly turned into a deep, pained smile, gums bleeding from the strain. Satoshi could only watch in horror as he saw himself slowly bleeding out, the reflection's teeth rotting out of his gums, dripping into the basin below.
Panicked, Satoshi felt his teeth, only for his fingers to pass through gaps. "No, No NO!" Screaming from terror, his eyes found his bloodied, decaying teeth in the sink. His chest was tight, his breathing irregular and strained, as he tried to grasp at his fallen teeth. But his fingers phased through them, disappearing as if they never existed.
"Oh God, please! Just leave me alone!" Satoshi screamed frantically, hyperventilating, extreme stress coursing through his veins. Staring back into the mirror, he saw his toothless reflection laughing as he gauged out his eyeballs.
"You should've died in there!"
"You're nothing but a coward!"
"Pussy! Face me like a man for once!"
His reflection was shouting at him, it's crooked voice pulsating through his mind; it's mutilated eye sockets stared into Satoshi's soul, sucking the life out of the brunette. He fell to his knees, his eyes struggling to pull away from the mirror, from his animated corpse, from his rotted teeth in the sink. "Make it stop, please just make it stop!" He begged, clutching his head into his knees, his body sat in an upright foetal position. He was well past his wit's end hours ago: now, it was torture.
At the sound of his front door creaking, Satoshi snapped his head up, his reflection being transfigured back into his frantic self. His wish came true: it had stopped. But it was far from over.
He didn't know the time, or how long it had been since he got home. But Satoshi knew who had walked into his house based on the heavy footsteps alone.
"Yoshikazu."
He muttered the name under his breath, his whole body on high alert. He never had to deal with that monstrous man, but the stories he was told and the sight of his hanging corpse in the basement was more than enough to fuel his imagination into overdrive. Satoshi knew he couldn't beat this monster, nor could he leave his house. He had to hide.
Without a second to waste he scurried out of the bathroom, remaining silent as he found his way to his room. All he could hear was the footsteps growing louder and louder, heavier and heavier, as they made their way closer to the foot of the stairs. Heart exploding in his temples, Satoshi crawled into his room. Desperate to hide quickly, he rolled himself under his bed, warping him back to the school's basement, hiding under the torture table, surrounded by the mutilated remains of children. Tears rolled down his face as he stifled a sob, a realisation dawning over him:
"I'm going to die, and I never told Naomi that I love her."
He could feel the footsteps growing closer, echoing in his head and reverberating through his chest. It was the end of the road for Satoshi Mochida, cowering under his bed, tears staining his face.
His door flung open and his lights flicked on. "Satoshi? Are you here?"
It was his father, his voice carrying a concerned tone. His cautious eyes scanned the room, finding his teenaged son quivering under the bed.
"Satoshi? Are you alright? I kept calling your name, but you weren't responding."
It took a moment for Satoshi to snap back to reality, his body still high on adrenaline. He was thankful to see his father instead of that monstrous man, but he was faced with a new challenge: explain to his father why he was crying under his bed.
He felt like a little kid, crawling out from his bed and wiping his eyes. Satoshi felt a deep sense of shame for his actions, and for clearly worrying his father. This shame hung even heavier on him, knowing that the only way to get out of this situation was to lie to his father.
His eyes now dry, Satoshi turned and faced his father. "Sorry dad, I didn't hear you come home." His voice was less-shaky, but it was clear he had been crying. "I dropped my phone, I was just looking for it under my bed." The lie felt like poison leaving his lips, but he'd rather the bitter taste of deceit than admit the truth.
His father didn't but any of it for a second, that was clear even to Satoshi. He could tell something had been bothering his children ever since that strange night, but he knew better than to push his son. Especially with Yuka in such a fragile state. He shuddered, with even the thought of Satoshi getting that bad making him nervous.
He sighed, a sad smile forming on his lips. "Alright Satoshi. Just let me know if anything's bothering you."
Concern pooling in his mind, Satoshi's father left the room. Left alone, Satoshi soon heard his voice floating down the hallway. "I've got a work dinner tonight, so I've left some money on the counter for you." The front door clicked shut, and the house was flooded with silence.
He couldn't eat. He couldn't shower. He couldn't look at himself in the mirror. He couldn't even speak truthfully to his father. Satoshi had never felt like more of a disgrace in his life. And as he collapsed onto his bed, not even bothering to remove his uniform, he only hoped that he would be able to sleep.
The sun was completely concealed by the heavy, grey clouds polluting the skies above. Rain had continued to pour through the night, and it didn't appear to ease up come the morning. At this time of the morning, most students were begrudgingly silencing their alarm clocks and getting out of bed, feeling annoyed at the relentless wet skies, dreading the school day ahead of them. They got into their uniforms, begrudgingly got ready for school and ate breakfast, before heading out the door to make their way to school with their friends.
This was not the morning Satoshi experienced.
Satoshi never set his alarm clock: he quickly realised he wouldn't need it, as he wasn't able sleep. Closing his eyes for even a second was almost physically painful, the weight of his eyelids cutting deep into his skin, Heavenly Host rippling across his mind. And every time he re-opened his eyes, remnants of Heavenly Host would creep into his room, cluttered remains of splattered bodies and undiscernible gore filling the empty spaces of his room.
Every movement felt heavy and painful, the weight of no food or sleep bearing their teeth deeply into his soul. He felt barely conscious as he dressed for school, his uniform crumpling off his malnourished body. Satoshi knew he had to eat, even though he knew it wouldn't stay down.
As he dragged his body to the kitchen, he found himself wracked with shame and guilt for the way he was acting, for the performance he was putting on. He didn't deserve to act like this, to struggle. He hadn't endured what his friends had. They weren't acting like spoilt brats, just him.
With his self-loathing internal dialogue keeping him occupied, he jumped at the sound of the doorbell. "Who is here this early?" he thought, a wave of unease growing over him. "Yuka and Mum shouldn't be back yet…"
Too sleep deprived to determine who it would be, Satoshi stumbled to the door, using the last of his strength to open it.
Before him stood the broad, short-haired figure of his tomboyish childhood friend, Naomi Nakashima. Upon witnessing her horrified face, he immediately regretted opening the door.
"Naomi, what are you-" Satoshi started to croak out, before he was suddenly pulled into a tight embrace, cutting off the end of his sentence. He stumbled back at first, but found himself quickly giving into the warmth and tightness of the embrace, seemingly jumpstarting his mind.
Looking up from his shoulders, Naomi began to speak. "Shinozaki called me last night. Both her and Kishinuma were worried about you, but..." Naomi paused, holding him tighter in her arms. "If I had known it was this bad, I would've come immediately." She paused, a wordless apology visible in her eyes. "Being alone at night, your thoughts keeping you up. I'm sorry I wasn't there."
Naomi spoke with pure sincerity, her voice earnest and understanding, spoken from someone who had experienced everything Satoshi had gone through. But all Satoshi could feel was shame and guilt for making her worry like this. She deserved someone better, someone stronger.
"It's alright, really." He responded, his voice weak and empty. "Really, I'm alright. Just a bit lonely without Yuka around." He awkwardly laughed, but it fell painful flat. Naomi wasn't buying it, her frown cutting deeply into him.
"Don't play dumb with me, Satoshi." She grumbled, pulling apart from him. "I bet you haven't even eaten yet."
As he went to deny the claim, his stomach answered for him, rumbling loudly.
"Just haven't gotten around to it yet…" He offered meekly, his eyes falling downcast. He really was a mess, his lies so unconvincing. He was glad he couldn't see how pathetic he looked.
Without a second to waste, Naomi led Satoshi back to his kitchen, quickly preparing food for him.
"Eat. We're not leaving until you're done either, so get on it." She spoke with determination, as if she wanted nothing more than to see him better.
Naomi was always his weak spot. He knew that she meant what she said, and so he forced himself to eat, his body welcoming and rejecting the meal he forced into his body. Every bite tried to resurface, but under the watchful gaze of Naomi, he stomached each morsel of food. He was sure it was delicious, but he could barely taste it.
After only a few bites, Satoshi had to stop eating for fear of throwing up, his body not yet used to food.
"That's it?" Naomi immediately called him out on this. "You need to eat more than that Satoshi, you've barely touched it."
He could hear her disappointment, her sorrow, yet the will to keep trying, the determination to support him. Choking back tears, Satoshi began to apologise.
"I'm sorry, Naomi. I…can't. I just can't anymore."
His voice was defeated, the words collapsing out of his mouth. He fought his way out of hell, but to Satoshi, the school had won.
"I don't want to do this anymore." He choked, tears slowly forming in his downcast eyes. "I'm so tired. I can't eat, I can't sleep. I just want it to end"
He felt a soft presence grasp his hand, and give it a tight squeeze. He knew without looking that Naomi's eyes were filled with hurt. He could feel the pain his words inflicted on her: he had been her rock their entire life, and now he was crumbling apart. Satoshi felt like a failure, digging his deprecation even further.
"Just one more day."
Naomi's soft voice rang out, penetrating Satoshi's consciousness. Caught off-guard, he glanced his head upwards, just making out Naomi's pretty, tomboyish face.
"I know how it feels, just wanting to sink into the ground and give up. But please, don't do it yet." She spoke so gently, so soothingly, but with the strongest sense of conviction. The immense emotional weight created tears in both their eyes, their wet eyes shimmering and refracting off each other in unity.
"Fight on, just one more day. Please, Satoshi. For me." Choking back sobs, Naomi finished her speech, and found herself wrapping her arms tightly around Satoshi, his weakened body accepting the warmth and closure.
Satoshi couldn't tell how long they were stood there, but when they pulled apart, it felt like only a moment had passed. He was longing for that embrace already, but he knew they had to leave. He was scared, anxious and he looked the part, facing the door towards the storm outside. But as Naomi took his hand, he felt he could go on, just one more day. He could face this storm and fight his demons; if they did it together. His breath was haggard, and his body was worn and scared. But a budding sense of hope began to flow through him like fire as they walked into the rain together.
AN: This was originally planned for June of last year. Life gets busy, huh?
Satoshi is such a plain character, it hurts. I wanted to try to reflect this thinking into how Satoshi would deal with his trauma, considering the games don't touch on it, and most of the focus goes to Naomi, which makes sense.
While it's not my best, I'm sick of this sitting in my notes. So I hope you enjoyed.