TITLE: A Bittersweet Night's Embrace AUTHOR: Phantom_Hearts on AO3
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It's a bittersweet winter night, harsh winds whipping against Satoru's exposed cheeks and large, wet snowflakes pouring down from the heavens. But even worse than nature's bite is the chilliness that freezes over Satoru's heart, knowing what's to come the following day.
Christmas should be one of the most joyful times of the year, a celebration of life spent with family and loved ones. Instead, Satoru suspects his holiday will be spent mourning the loss of the only man he's ever loved or, if everything goes horribly wrong, spent six feet under. He doesn't know which outcome is worse.
His anguish breaches his indifferent facade, lips curling in a grimace as he waits for a familiar face to show up in a poorly lit alley. His hoodie, drawn tightly to not reveal his identity, doesn't do much to protect him from the biting cold of the brick wall he leans against.
He sighs, emotionally weighed down. With tomorrow comes uncertainty, and Satoru's no betting man.
"You're looking a little glum, Satoru," a voice, the only voice that's ever mattered in his life, quips. A magnificent aura of cursed energy, only second to Satoru's own, materializes mere meters away. It's so close that Satoru can feel it reaching out and greedily sucking in his power, so different from the energy that radiated warmth and reassurance just under a decade ago.
"Wonder why," Satoru mutters under his breath.
"What was that?" There's a soft thud as Suguru jumps off one of his cursed spirits, geta clacking against the ground. He cups a teasing hand around his ear.
Satoru rolls his eyes, a gesture lost under his blindfold. "You know what I mean, Suguru. Don't go playing games."
Suguru chuckles darkly, a biting undertone lurking beneath feigned amusement. "I don't play games; I wage war. As you should be well familiar with."
"Too familiar." Tomorrow, a war breaks out between sorcerers and curse users, light vs dark, benevolent vs malevolent. No matter the outcome, the world won't come out the same.
"It doesn't have to be this way, you know." For all their escapades over the years, brief trysts kept to the utmost secrecy, Satoru's never heard Suguru so defeated, genuine regret dripping from every word.
"You'd call off your attack?"
Suguru snorts. "Of course not. My revolution is necessary for a perfect world, my ideals the most righteous. Rather, it's not too late for you to join me, Satoru. Forget about those filthy monkeys and that damn council of stuck-up sorcerers; you never did like them anyway. Together, we can be the strongest and rule a true utopia where sorcerers no longer must hide."
He steps forward, extending a hand outward. Satoru peers down at it but doesn't otherwise react. His mind has been made up ever since Suguru defected, and no matter how tempting the opportunity is, he refuses to be swayed. The old Suguru taught him that much.
