Dearly | a satosugu fic

Chapter 2: Lights

Somewhere in Tokyo on a Friday, a man stood in front of a mirror, fussing over a button on a suit.

"Damn it! Ugh!"

Satoru was fed up. My suit has to be perfect tonight, he told himself. Yet it wasn't.

So there he stood, hilariously scowling at himself in the mirror.

It was nearing evening, the time that Satoru was supposed to pick up Suguru for their date, and Satoru just couldn't seem to make the button on his suit work. A few days had passed since the two chatted in the park.

Satoru was just about to burst with a mix of excitement and fury. Even though it was only a few days, his missed Suguru tremendously. It was truly a spectacle seeing him so livid over a button.

He screamed.

"Why won't this damn button work- gah!"

A second passed.

Another one.

One more.

Finally, a lightbulb- he unbuttoned the suit and left it at that.

This was the so-called "greatest sorcerer of the modern era".

Why would he worry so much about his appearance? There was only one reason, and that was because he had to look good for Suguru. If it were any other reason (for example, a wedding), he would have worn casual clothes.

Nope.

He went all the way. He decked himself out in a spotless white suit and took the time to fix his hair and glasses. He even added a small blue bow tie.

Anything for Suguru.

Satoru anxiously looked at his nightstand- on it sat a small alarm clock that read 7:30 pm. He was supposed to leave ten minutes ago, but he spent so much time yelling at the button of his vest that he didn't spare a glance to the lonesome alarm clock.

And so the helpless sorcerer ran for his keys, swiping his keys off the nightstand and making a beeline for his car.

***

7:36.

Time was ticking by quickly and the white-haired sorcerer wasn't even halfway to his date's house.

In misery, Suguru sat, at his own.

Would Satoru even turn up?

7:40.

It was a bit too quiet in Suguru's lonely apartment.

He wondered if Satoru didn't want to join him for dinner anymore.

Was he too busy? Did he not make it to his house?

Did he not love him anymore?

A skid outside followed by a beep and the slam of a car door gave him his answer.

"Sugu! Hey!"

Suguru peered out the window at a frantic Satoru that waved at him with the energy of a hummingbird.

Satoru screamed, practically at the top of his lungs, for Suguru to come down and forgive him even though he was a whopping thirty minutes late. He couldn't just tell Suguru that he had trouble with his shirt, he was too dignified for that. So he pulled the best excuse he could think of out of his ass.

"Suguru, please," he pleaded, "please forgive me! I had to take care of- uh- the dishes!"

Good enough.

Checking himself one last time in the bathroom mirror, Suguru ran out the door and down the stairs. He had taken a more casual approach to dinner and wore a black button-up shirt with black dress pants. He left his hair down. He knew it drove Satoru crazy.