[satosugu] Carry Me Home - by valleykey

Chapter 9: I meet a man of many faces / liar.

------｡✧【AUTHOR: VALLEYKEY】✧｡-------

➤Source: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36776911/chapters/94917922#workskin

*Literally this is one of my fav stsg fics ever!!!! If u guys enjoy the story, plz visit the original link above to give her kudos and support her <3333 thankyouuu*

*NOTE: An engawa (縁側/掾側) or en (縁) is an edging strip of non-tatami-matted flooring in Japanese architecture, usually wood or bamboo. The en may run around the rooms, on the outside of the building, in which case they resemble a porch or sunroom.

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What the fuck.

"I thought you were dead," Suguru says without thinking. All of his thoughts for syrup slow, struggling to make sense of the person in the doorway.

His own face—and that is his face, undoubtedly his face—smiles at him, an amused quirk of the lips. One of the other's hands reaches up and strokes the curse's feathery form. It leans into the touch almost affectionately. "Am I? You say that as though I shouldn't be walking here, but isn't that far more the case for you? Honestly," not-Suguru tilts his head at the sisters, "just what trouble did you get yourselves into?"

"It was—" Mimiko starts, stops. The expression on her face is a terrible thing, all full of fear and panic with a tone of hatred. Her shoulders are trembling. Nanako is trembling, too, but it's her hands. Her fists are balled tightly at her side, clenched and angry.

Not-Suguru's expression doesn't falter in the slightest. "Oh," he says, tone all gentle and coaxing, "don't be so worried. Don't you trust me?"

"No," says Nanako.

"I suppose you still don't," Not-Suguru sighs, airy, "how unfortunate. Mimiko, finish what you were saying?"

And it's all just—it's all so wrong.

Suguru is never affectionate with his curses; will never be affectionate with them, either. Won't treat them like pets in the way Not-Suguru does his. And the sisters—they treat this individual like... they don't treat him with any of the love, reverence, that they speak of Suguru's counterpart with. There's something here that Suguru's missing. It's—

"We just....met him in Tokyo," Mimiko mutters, looking to the side. "We didn't do anything."

Not-Suguru hums, returning his gaze to Suguru, contemplative. Wrong wrong wrong, it's all wrong. Unease washes over Suguru's whole body, a horrible, dreadful feeling. And Suguru—

"Who are you?"

Not-Suguru raises a brow.

Suguru straightens, resisting the urge to reach a hand up and fiddle with his earlobe. "You're not me. I'm sure you're not—I wouldn't—you're not." Even though that is Suguru's body. It is. It's Suguru's eyes, face, piercings, and it matches the description of his counterpart—long hair, black robes, scent of jasmine and sandalwood. Blood. "Why do you have my body?"