*VOID.

@uzumakiuser

[comments scribbled on the drawings: 'Bxtch get out of my man' 'I can't eat here anymore thx - KFC' 'I miss you.. do you ever think about me?' 'HATE' 'our initials are the same!!!' 'I love his giant pants. What secrets does he hide in there??' 'ur eyes r so pretty' 'remember to give him spicy food to help with the taste' 'his curses are cool'] Satoru looks unhappy with what he has done, but he does not have the artistic ability to do better so. He worked on this for hours. Hours.

@shlnlgamls [comments scribbled on drawing: 'Thought he was so cool' 'Big Worm: Over Compensating?' 'Ur the reason my bf broke up w/ me how dare?' 'How do you forget your kid? My kid now. <3' Satoru stares at the drawing intently and scribbles more purple on it for good measure.

muse as a drink

Never had a thought so completely unmoored Satoru. Sure, the news of his lover’s misdeeds had been jarring, had knocked the balance of his world off kilter, but he hadn’t really believed it to be true. Slaughtering the village of people, well he couldn’t really condemn that now, could he? Not when he had been willing to do the very same to those applauding cult members. Some small, dark part of him still regretted that he allowed Geto to hold him back in that moment. The mention of Geto’s parents? Just because the village had been destroyed didn’t mean his parents were dead, and if they were dead, maybe there had been a reason. He didn’t know much about his friend’s family, now that it really came to it. Did he even know their names? Had he ever thought to ask? The thought sent ice into his veins. 

Anyway, none of that mattered. They all had times when things got out of hand. They could fix this. He was foolish and young enough to believe he could will it so just by virtue of who he was. But that question. Was he who he was just because he had randomly been the one gifted with these powers? Was he even as powerful as he thought himself to be? He hadn’t been able to protect one girl. Hadn’t been able to protect Yu. Hadn’t noticed something going on with his best friend and lover. Because now that he looked into those violet eyes, he realized all of it was true. He truly believed this was the answer.

Suddenly, he found he couldn’t breathe. The noise of the cars on the street was mingling with the footsteps of the crowd pressing around him and the beeps of the computers in the shops and the hiss and pop of grease; perfumes, colognes, deodorants, shampoos, grease, fried food, bread, asphalt, gasoline, all the smells coating the back of his throat; the cursed energy thrumming in each and every living thing, there were little flies over there, there was something coiled about that man shouting into his phone, there was a swarm of writhing maggots dripping from the person gripping the steering wheel of their car so tight their knuckles were white and a vein was popping from their forehead. It was a weight against his chest, a hammer against the side of his head; pain lanced behind his eyes. 

All of these humans. They kept walking despite his world shattering. They ignored the words he shouted across the canyon between himself and Suguru. Had any of them mourned the death of Riko? Had any of them even paused in their day when Yu was cut down? No, of course not. It was all kept from them. Why were they so important? Why did they matter so much more than the sorcerers that tried to protect them? Why were they doing all of this again? An infestation. A disease. A rot spreading through the world. If they excised it, if they removed the root of the problem…. 

“I’m not immortal, Suguru. If I do this, they’ll come for me. Eventually, they’ll stop even me, but hell… we can do the best we can for now… what do you think?”

“What’s the plan, Suguru?”

Nothing had been right since that day. It was his fault. He should have fought harder against the elders who kept sending him on mission after mission, pushing him farther and farther away from his best friend. When he noticed the bags under the other man’s eyes, he should have done more. The quick kisses stolen in the stairwell and the brushes of fingers as they passed in the halls were not enough. Not even the snacks and sweets he left on Geto’s pillows during the times they passed like ships in the night had been enough. He should have made sure he was eating them, made sure he was sleeping– he should have made sure he was alright.

“Are you going to kill me?”

 He couldn’t say with certainty that he didn’t deserve it.