For You, My Life.

Your Guardian

The creaking of hardwood echoed through the house with every steady footstep while Suguru wandered his way around the place he'd begrudgingly called home for the last month.

After New Years, Satoru had to go back to teaching, leaving Suguru on his own most of the day, which was fine once they got into a routine. The first two weeks of January were tough for Suguru without being able to walk, but it did get better.

The daily formula was as follows: Satoru would wake up, tend to Suguru, leave, and then come home with take-out. He'd put Suguru's leg in the CPM machine, fifteen minutes on and ten minutes off, until it was time for bed.

Right around the end of the second week, they began to ween off the machine and trust Suguru's leg to stand on its own. Mostly.

"It says right here 'three weeks' Suguru," Satoru argued, cocking his hip to the side and holding Shoko's instructions up. He tapped at the specific line of chicken scratch with his index finger to show the bed ridden man.

"You can't even fucking read that handwriting, just let me google it," Suguru scolded back, scooting over an old laptop from the other side of the bed. Satoru had given it to him a few days after New Years since Suguru was literally losing his mind from watching TV between his medically induced naps.

He popped the top open and the light provided a shallow glow of a halo around his face as he typed his query into the search engine with one hand.

The results populated in a flash. However, that sneaky little smirk Suguru had just begun to form was quickly wiped from its existence and replaced with a scowl.

Satoru crowded in and looked at the results, "I TOLD YOU!"

Suguru grunted under his breath, brows pinching and eyes squinting in skepticism as if he had just been told the sky was green, and grass was blue. He lifted his bad leg and bent it about seventy degrees. He held out an open palm toward it, as if to show off the action to the non-believer. "Look, I can bend it a lot and probably more if you just stop babying me and let me walk around," his glare was unmistakable as he continued, "I'll use a cane or whatever if that'll make you happy. But it's already been two weeks and I HAVE to get out of this bed, even if it's just to sit on the couch for an hour a day. Please." This wasn't just a plea for Suguru's physical health, but his entire mental state.

Aqua pools swirled in Satoru's irises as they studied that look of helplessness painted on Suguru's face. He calmly scratched at his chin and the white stubble forming there from a missed weekend of shaving. Satoru took his time to organize the thoughts in his head.

He'd always pictured getting a walker for Suguru when the time came, but he'd done some research on his own and decided that a cane would be the best option. Seeing, well, that it would be rather difficult for Suguru to balance himself on a walker with one hand. He gnawed at the inside of his cheek as he mulled it over. Suguru stared at him expectantly, as if he'd actually dare to deny the sorcerer a reprieve from the four walls of the bedroom.

Satoru couldn't, and in fact- he'd already brought a cane home for Suguru to use. It had a twist off bottom where he'd start Suguru with a four prong attachment, and then could switch it later to the single prong like an average cane. Neither would be used forever, but they were certainly necessary now.

"I can't believe you don't want my help in the bathroom anymore," Satoru complained in a mocking tone, tilting his chin upward like the brat he was, smiling as soon as he turned away, headed toward the hall.

"You asshole, I'm not done- get back here!" Suguru growled after him.

But no sooner had Satoru left, was he reentering with a cane in hand.