Year: 2018
A few months leading to Suguru's descent upon Tokyo, his mind began writing a bunch of bothersome scenarios. At first, he kept his anxious thoughts at bay, but they soon turned into a raging sea. So he just let them flow.
After all, his anxious thoughts were more than reasonable. He was about to see Satoru for the first time in eleven years.
What if Suguru didn't recognize him?Each time he tried to picture him, his image slightly shifted, slipping through his mind like smoke. Sometimes Satoru stood tall, at least a head above him, his sleek shoulder-length hair brushed back. Other times, he was much shorter, slender, his frail face framed by a buzz cut.
And if he recognized him… what if Satoru refused to talk?For all he knew, he might have been holding a grudge. Couldn't blame him.
But when Suguru stepped foot into Tokyo—or what remained of it—he immediately realized how silly and insignificant all of his worries were.
Satoru was dead. He had to be. He wouldn't have ever let the world go to such fucking hell.
It's been a few weeks of endless funerals, attended by nobody but him. A few weeks without seeing a single sign of life. Not even once.
At first he was burying the bodies in separate graves, marking them all with a pile of neatly stacked stones or a few bricks, heaped together to resemble a tombstone. However, after the thirtieth or fortieth body, he decided to bury some of them together. He still made a makeshift tombstone for every person.
Suguru wiped off his tears and placed a heart-shaped rock on the fresh grave. He'd usually use any rocks or bricks he could find in the area, but this time, he had spent half a day looking for a special one. That's what Satoru would have done. It might not have been obvious to many because Satoru always hid his feelings behind a smile. But he always cared. Deeply.
Both girls were barely four years old, five at most. He found them curled up at a decaying grocery store, their hands intertwined even in death. He didn't notice it at first—the blood had seeped into their clothes, coloring them a deep crimson red—but both girls wore matching heart-patterned sweaters.
It took him a few days to even begin thinking of returning to the same grocery store. He hadn't felt a shred of hunger. And how could he? Everything reeked of death and decay. Yet, he was determined to find life. Any life. And that meant he had to live too.
Suguru walked with a prominent limp, using a wooden cane to support his right leg. When he finally reached the store, the sky had slightly darkened, but the thick gloomy clouds made it nearly impossible to tell what time of the day it was.
The store's roof had collapsed, letting in rain pour for who knows how long, leaving the front section in complete disarray. Shelves were tipped over, their contents scattered on the damp, sticky floor. Left to rot.
In the back, however, a portion of the store remained mostly untouched by the water damage. That's where he had found the girls. To get there, he had to squeeze through a jagged hole in the rubble, which was quite a bothersome task for a person whose leg wouldn't cooperate.
Once on the other side of the store, he paused to look around. The best products were looted, but there was just enough to keep him going for a few months. He reached for the edamame cans and started stuffing them into his bag.
Suddenly, a quiet whine pierced the thick, humid air. Suguru froze, his eyes widening, gleaming with hope. Quietly, hiding behind the half-empty shelves, he sneaked towards the sound. It was delicate, hardly noticeable, and just high-pitched enough to might have been… human.
Suguru took another silent step, placing his cane carefully, not to make any sound. As soon as he saw it, the hopeful light in his eyes faded away. Behind an empty shelf stood a four legged slug-like cursed spirit. It began hissing as soon as it spotted Suguru, and then exposed its razor-sharp teeth.
Right below the cursed spirits' claws laid a pair of kid's shoes. They were even tinier than the ones the two girls wore.
"It's alright," Suguru said, approaching the spirit slowly, his movement fluid, precise.
The creature growled, louder, its saliva spraying all over the place. Its jaws reeked of rotten flesh.
Suguru didn't even flinch. He wiped the sticky spit off his face with his sleeve and then took one step closer.
As the cursed spirit tensed, ready to attack, Suguru quickly extended his left hand and plunged it into the spirit's head with an unsettling ease. He closed his eyes, letting a wave of intense sorrow pass through his body. The spirit hadn't been here for long, but the agony it carried, made Suguru's throat tighten. It hurt. Everything hurt. But it didn't matter. Even the heaviest thoughts were impermanent.
The cursed spirit's eyes bulged, and a high-pitched scream tore through the air. It sounded eerily human. Creature's form began to warp and distort, its grotesque body folding in on itself as Suguru's hand twisted inside it.
A second later, the spirit was consumed by a blinding light before it dissipated into nothingness, leaving only a weak, lingering echo of its agony.
By the time Suguru left the store, the cloudy sky had turned deep charcoal gray, and a faint mist had settled throughout the entire city. At first, he would struggle to see in the dark, but nowadays, it took his eyes only a few seconds to adapt.
He was headed home, when a distant grunting sound made him pause. His senses sharpened, but his eyes remained hopeless. Another cursed spirit. Maybe even a few?
The sound was muffled at first, just a subtle disturbance in the otherwise eerie silence of the lifeless city. He stepped forward, peering through the cracks in the rubble, his hand already rising, prepared to grunting soon turned into a loud roar. Definitely not human.
Suguru's sharp gaze pierced the darkness. A familiar silhouette was moving in the foggy horizon. He blinked twice, making sure his eyes weren't fooling him.
A mixture of excitement and panic pierced his chest. He couldn't believe what he saw. Life. The silhouette definitely belonged to a man; a man he found oddly familiar. He had just finished killing a cursed spirit, his blunt sword still dripping with black ooze. Headed Suguru's way, the man seemed completely unconcerned by his existence.
"Nanami Kento," Suguru muttered under his breath, when the silhouette moved closer.
Suguru stood frozen as Nanami walked right past him, without even glancing at him once. As if he was invisible. Confused, he launched forward, as fast as his limp allowed. Nanami was already a good two meters ahead.
"Nanami," he called, but the man wouldn't react. For a brief second, he began doubting his own sanity. Was he seeing things? Or was he himself… dead? Stuck in a parallel dimension?
Suguru shook his head, as if trying to get rid of his paranoia. "Nanami, wait!" he called again, this time loud enough to grab his attention.
Nanami stood still for a minute, and then turned around, slowly. His face was partly covered in deep discoloured burn marks, and was much more lived in, but Suguru had no doubt it was him—his brown, intimidating eyes were unmistakable.
The space between them grew heavy with confusion as Suguru stared at his old friend's stoic expression. Nanami was about to turn his back once again, but Suguru stopped him. "Nanami, wait, don't go!"
Nanami raised his brow slightly and then marched towards him. With one swift movement, he patted Suguru's shoulder. "Shit. These are getting so fucking realistic."
"What do you mean?"
"You're not real. So, shut up," Nanami commanded as he was backing away.
"What are you talking about? It's me, Suguru. Nanami, please."
"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up."
"No, Nanami, please, I beg you. I'm sorry, Okay? Sorry, I was gone. It's me. I'm real. I'm sorry."
Nanami's icy gaze locked with his. "They… they never apologise," he murmured so quietly, Suguru wasn't sure whether he heard him right, "Getou? Is it really you?"
"What happened, Nanami? Where's everyone? Is," his voice cracked,"is Gojo… dead?"
Nanami's eyebrows rose. "Fuck. It is you."
