𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊. | s. gojo

・:〃➜ 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

❝  𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆. ❞ Satoru yells through his phone, holding the speaker up close to his lips while he looks down at the mess he had created. His breathing slowly becomes erratic and his eyes are wide open. He could feel the way sweat forms on his face, slipping down his pale skin while he could barely keep his phone clutched between his fingers, "Suguru, what the fuck do i do!?"

"Whoa, what the fuck? Who isn't breathing?" Suguru groans through the phone, rubbing his eyes with the back of his tan hands. He could barely make out the time on his phone, but with a squint of his eyes he could see ‘3:35’ displayed across his phone.

"[Y/n]! He isn't fucking breathing!" Satoru yells back as he paces around the room, his eyes occasionally drifting towards your body. There was blood leaving your head and spilling onto Satoru's wooden floors from when he hit you and from where you collided against the floor. He never thought it'd come to this, surely, "Suguru, I didn't even fucking mean to do this shit, God, what do i fucking do!?"

"...[Y/n] isn't breathing? What did you do, Satoru?" Suguru questions, his voice rising ever so slightly as he rises from his bed.

"He found out about Himiko and those other little bitches of mine, and we argued, and I just. Fuck, Suguru, I fucking — Fuck! I didn't even know I did, you have to believe me, I didn't mean to do any of this shit!" Satoru frantically tries to explain himself, his spare hand grasping at the strands of his hair — occasionally tugging at the strands. He dances around just what he's done with practiced ease, a habit he's picked up over the years of being a singer.

"...Satoru, what did you do?" Suguru repeats himself, his voice narrowing over the words slowly.

"..." He couldn't help but fall silent, not wanting to admit it out loud as he releases a shaky breath, "I fucking. God, I hit him — with that stupid vase of his and fuck. He isn't breathing."

"... Is there a pulse?" Suguru takes a few minutes to wrap his head around the words of who was supposed to be his best friend. His voice is shaky, but only slightly, as he could practically feel Satoru's panic through the phone.

"Uhm," Satoru makes a buffer sound before lowering down onto his knees — hovering over your supposed body. He presses his fingers to the side of your neck, trying to feel for any sign of a heart beat in your neck, "Fuck— no. He's dead. Oh my god, Suguru, I fucking killed him. Oh my god."

"... He might not be dead, hold on, I'm coming over."

Suguru's eyes widen as he stares down at your body, seeing the visible signs of injury. The blood, the bruising around your skull, the broken vase all over the floor — he saw it all. He doesn't even know where to begin with all of this, because he knows his friend isn't above criminal acts — as they've committed many as teens, but murder? Like this? It would never be something Suguru would think his best friend capable of.

"Fucking hell, Satoru," Suguru grumbles, before he tries to check for any sign of life within your body. But the minute his hand touches the side of your neck, and he could feel the void of body heat — he knew you're gone. Beyond any repair that a hospital could offer, "... I can't fucking believe you right now. This? This is insane, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Look! I didn't mean to ... it... it just sort of happened, and fuck!" Satoru says, his hands frantically moving around as if to try and atest to his innocence. However, both of them knew that Satoru is anything but innocent.

"What's his parents going to think, Satoru? His mother fucking loves you," Suguru grumbles as he follows Satoru's lead, beginning to pace around with the room, "You have to call someone about this. Dude, seriously, you need to turn yourself in. This ... this is fucking murder, you're a murderer."

"I can't fucking turn myself in, I wouldn't last in prison. Shit, man, just. It'll all go away, he disappears on his family all the time — they won't be worried, shit."

"This isn't fucking about you, Satoru. You literally fucking killed a man, this isn't about you."

"Would you just fucking help me?" Satoru exclaims with a puff of air leaving him. The last thing he needs right now is his best friend getting onto him like this, even if he knows that this situation isn't about him.

"God, you are paying me so much money for this shit."