As Above (So Below)

Chapter Seven: Prodigality

Satoru couldn't take his eyes off Suguru Geto.

It was as if there was some invisible magnet pulling his gaze, leaving him open and vulnerable to the disgust in the other boy's eyes, to the weight of his stare. It felt like he was being consumed - there was a carnal element in the way Suguru hated him. Visceral, almost - it left a trace on Satoru's skin, goosebumps flooding the flesh flayed beneath Suguru's stare. Satoru was confused by his own fixation on the boy - what was it about him that was pulling him in? Why couldn't he look away? Why did he feel burned beneath the heat in this stranger's eyes?

"Absolutely not," Toji said, his gruff voice cutting through the haze Suguru Geto had left Satoru in. He spoke with the authority of a man with painful experience - his words held the weight of an impossible trauma. Satoru looked over at him, breaking eye contact with the other boy, and did his best to look confused.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, laying the ditziness on thick. Satoru wasn't sure why he did it - what did he lose by being honest with his mentor? Despite all that, though, Satoru couldn't help himself from being a little deceitful. It felt like that stare was just for him, regardless of the intent behind it. That somehow, that boy's damning gaze was a gift and not a slight against him. He knew the other boy was disgusted with him - that was more than obvious - but that didn't negate the strange intimacy of it all. Hatred was just another form of passion, after all.

Toji didn't buy it. "I've seen this before, you know," He pointed out, reaching out and straightening one of Satoru's wings, "And it never ever works out." Satoru knew that. There could only be one victor, but that didn't stop his wandering mind.

There was something about the boy that was just... irresistible, almost. Satoru couldn't help but look back, meeting the raven-haired boy's eyes one more time, pinned into place by the oppressive level of vitriol in them. Hateful, but uniquely so.

Suguru stared at Satoru like he was trying to peel his skin away with his gaze - to find some hidden monster beneath. The heat of his hatred was a sauna Satoru couldn't escape - like a slow-boiled frog, Satoru had realized he was in the pot too late, and was now entrenched in the strange staring contest they'd found themselves in. It wasn't exactly competitive - more angry than violent. Satoru was no more than a symbol in Suguru's mind, Satoru knew that. But for some reason, he didn't want the boy to look at him like that. If he was going to be flayed by those rich, purple-brown eyes, he wanted it to be in search of his soul and not of some bogeyman.

Satoru had known what the Capital was going to do to him - he'd been warned by Toji that they'd cut around his reaping video, turn him into something he wasn't. He'd made his peace with that - played into it, even - but there was something painful about seeing other people's reactions to that persona. The boy from Seven hated him, and that shouldn't have bothered Satoru, but it did. He wasn't sure why - maybe it was what Suguru represented? A misguided, manufactured hatred that stemmed from the lie that would eat up the rest of his life? Or was it the boy himself - that this strange enchantment he had with him was poisoning the mask, making him want things he'd never wanted before?

Satoru tore his eyes away again, forcing them back to Toji's. Displeased was an understatement - the look Toji was giving him could've melted even the harshest Gamemaker's tundra. Satoru bit his lip, refusing to acknowledge that unspoken (yet justified) disappointment. He had no explanation for it - there was nothing he could say that made his reaction make any sense. There was nothing that made it make sense in the first place - he was just as confused by his own behavior. Satoru had never been the type to be infatuated with anyone, much less after seeing them once. He'd avoided romance in all aspects of his life - had two kids to look after. No one was worth compromising their happiness.