Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
DAY (MONTH) 10
-Satoru-
-ˋˏ ೱ ˎˊ-
Morning
Satoru stood in the chilly morning air, staring at his hand as if it held the key to all of his problems. The cold gnawed at his exposed skin, his breath fogging up in the eternal dawn that seemed to hang over their time bubble for days. Around him, the dust from the aftermath of his misfire was still settling, particles dancing in the soft light like it was all some surreal dream. His thoughts were scattered, unable to process how he, of all people, had ended up in this ridiculous situation.
Him? Of all people? Blowing up his own technique in his own face? He grumbled softly, shaking his head as he tried to wrap his mind around it.
«Unbelievable.» he muttered to himself, running his hand through his hair-only to feel it standing on end, likely more disheveled than it had ever been in his life. Of course. Suzume was going to have a field day with this one. She wouldn't let him live it down, that was for sure.
He'd been testing out Limitless again, pushing himself a little harder than usual. After months of barely scraping by, today had been his first real attempt at using Red-the technique he'd once mastered so effortlessly. His Six Eyes were back to their usual clarity, his cursed energy flowed more freely, but something was still off. Red had backfired, exploded in his face like a firework gone horribly wrong.
To make matters worse, he hadn't even activated Infinity in time. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair, which, judging by the way it felt, was probably sticking up in all directions after the blast. Wonderful.
Almost there, he thought, just a little more control and everything will be back to normal.
It was frustrating, though. Nearly everything about him had returned to how it was before the Shibuya incident-his cursed energy, his senses, his abilities-but there was still that slight, irritating gap between "almost" and "complete." That small gap was currently causing explosions in his face.
Sighing, he made his way back toward the house, resigned to the inevitable teasing he was about to receive. Suzume would probably greet him with her usual, gentle sarcasm, and he'd have to suffer through it.
The warmth of the house hit him like a wave as he stepped inside, but his attention was immediately drawn to Suzume. She was crouched in front of an old cabinet, her small frame half-hidden as she rummaged through dusty shelves, pulling out random objects with furrowed brows. She was supposed to be resting, especially after her recent collapse, but clearly, she had other plans. Of course.
«You really can't help yourself, can you?» Satoru muttered, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed.
Suzume glanced up, ready to respond in her usual soft but stubborn way, but as soon as her gaze landed on him, her words seemed to falter. Her gaze traveled up and down his entire appearance-his wild, static-filled hair, the streaks of dirt smeared across his face, his disheveled clothes.
