Gold Foil

Chapter Eighteen: Doubt

Any ounce of strength that Satoru has instantly leaves him after he can no longer feel Getou's eyes on him or hear the crying of the rugrats that always trail after him. Pulling up the collar of his light jacket, he ducks into a bathroom and nearly runs for one of the stalls.

Shaking hands fumble as he tries to slide the lock in place and it's only after his fourth attempt that Satoru lets out a sigh of relief. Kneeling before the toilet, Satoru hides his face in his hands and closes his eyes.

What even was that?

It felt like he had no control over his actions and even though he wanted to stop, he just couldn't. It was like he was being controlled by some unseen puppeteer.

Letting out a low groan, Satoru runs a hand through his knotted hair and curses under his breath.

As much as he wants to go back and talk to Getou and apologize and explain everything to him, Satoru knows that he can't handle seeing that Fushiguro right now. If he has to be honest, he isn't sure if he could ever stand the sight of him ever. There's a building feeling deep in his gut, something akin to dread. Uneasiness settles in, seeping into his veins like ice and the nausea comes back with thrice the force. Clamping his hands around the rim of the toilet, Satoru closes his eyes and slowly counts to ten until the roiling, slimy feeling that writhes in his stomach dies down.

He knows, if he tries to go back to Getou, he will lose control of himself again. Only this time, he might uphold his promise.

"No." Satoru whimpers to his reflection, "I fucked up." A tear dribbles down his cheek and falls against the water, distorting his reflection. Letting out a shaking and uneasy exhale, he rubs the back of his hand against his mouth and leans back on his heels.

Satoru decides that it's high time to bring this to the elders. He's worked so hard to handle this issue on his own but he's clearly diving off the deep end now and perhaps in all their years of being worthless sorcerers, they might have an answer for this.

Satoru bursts through the office door and Gakuganji barely glances his way. In his hand is a cup of steaming tea, thin fingers of steam curl upwards. Nise, the second year teacher, jumps in her seat at his arrival. Her brown eyes grow wide and he doesn't pay attention to how she begins to squirm uneasily in her seat before she quietly excuses herself.

Giving Satoru a half hearted greeting, she slides past him and leaves the office. Her heels click down the otherwise silent corridor.

"I don't know how Yaga is as a boss," Gakuganji rests his cup of tea against the table and frowns at Satoru. "But barging in so rudely when I'm in the middle of a meeting is something I don't tolerate. I still expect you to conform to my rules while you're a guest here as a teacher, no matter what your lineage is."

"This is important."

Gakuganji folds his hands together and sighs. "Very well." He motions for Satoru to sit.

He hesitates for a second, looking over his shoulder towards the shut door as if he's waiting for Toji to stroll in at any second.

"Would you like some tea?" The elder offers and Satoru flinches from the sudden voice. His sudden timidness doesn't go unnoticed. "I never thought I'd live to see the day where the great and invincible Gojou Satoru grows frightened at shadows and voices." Gakuganji softly chuckles.

Satoru ignores the quip and slowly sits down on the chair opposite of his boss. Back stiff, he moves almost robotically to grab hold of the freshly poured cup of tea. He has absolutely no intention of drinking it but he seeks the warmth much like a moth drawn to the scorching heat of a fluorescent bulb. Satoru is starving for anything to anchor him and the burn of a ceramic mug will do just fine.