𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐀𝐓 | 𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙜𝙤𝙟𝙤 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐓

.⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

SHIBUYA, TOKYO 2006

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

"NO WAY," you almost gasp, the words slipping out in a hushed whisper, disbelief tightening in your chest.

"that's way too fast." you say, your voice a mix of awe and confusion. you flip the magazine from back to front, the pages a blur of ads and articles until you're staring at the cover again. it's real. the headline screams up at you:

𝐉𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓, [𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄] [𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄] 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍'𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 '𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒'

your heart hammers against your ribs as you stand there, the rest of the store fading away into a dull murmur.

"that's a nice photo they took of you," his voice is a gentle murmur as he leans over your shoulder—his breath, a warm whisper against the shell of your ear, a stark contrast to the cool sheen of the magazine's paper.

"you're kidding me right?" disbelief tints your voice as you hold the glossy page up to your face. "does this really look like me?"

"the spitting image." he smirks.

you extend your arms, the magazine held aloft as if it's a stranger's face you're trying to recognize.

"hasegawa-san..." the name falls from your lips, a prelude to memories of candid shots and unguarded moments, "always photographs me when i'm embarrassed..."

it's then that something clicks for satoru, a realization that settles in his chest with the weight of something precious.

the photobook, the magazine, your words—they all weave together into an understanding that's as sharp as it is unwelcome.

the photobook, the one that was published two months ago, had always stirred a strange jealousy within him. now, with your words, he grasps the root of that feeling—it's the vulnerability in those images, the intimacy of an expression he thought was shared only with him.

looking at the you that hasegawa captured, the you that now stares back from the magazine, he feels a tug at his heart. it was your eyes—when your eyes shone with an honesty that was meant for him alone.

to see it laid bare for the world, it's as though a piece of you, a piece of the 'us' he cherished, is being claimed by others. it's your eyes that make him feel as if he's losing something precious, something that was only his to behold.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋˚˚୨🦢୧⋆｡⊹˚. ♡ྀི

your knees press into the grain of the wood, the fibers unforgiving as they etch lines of discomfort into your skin. you felt like you were overdoing it with how deeply you had bowed—but you felt it completely necessary as the request, that stuck to the tip of your tongue, felt like a breach of the sacred jujutsu codes.

so you endure, the sting in your knees a minor penance for the balance you're struggling to maintain between your duties.

"i cannot take on any missions in the next three months," you murmur into the floorboards, the apology heavy on your tongue.

even he knew the bow is more than enough.

"i have to be in kagoshima for the movie i'm in—but the rest of the movie is shot in tokyo so i'll be fine!" you quip, although you still feel awkward.

the words feel dreamlike, a stark contrast to the very real pressure of his gaze upon you, almost burning in its scrutiny.

when he speaks, his voice is a thunderclap that jolts you, and your eyes dart to the side, catching the odd sight of a cursed doll running back and forth along the wall of the room.