zozu

megumi groans, tipping his head back in a silent prayer while you fail to fight the look of disgust curling at your lips and digging into the skin between your eyebrows. you whip your head and gave a warning glare to the driver through the tinted windows with experienced accuracy, the interaction so familiar you could almost see the way his eyes lit up and his lips tilted into a lopsided smirk behind the glass.

the sleek sports car comes to an abrupt stop, parking crookedly next to your car. it was a deep blue mclaren, he'd gotten it soon after the papers were finalized. a show of how he was still capable of maintaining his wealth after losing half. his elbow was out of the window first, followed by the tilt of his head, his bright white hair sticking out like a cotton ball that had been pulled apart by the wind.

"hey, baby!" he calls, sticking his head farther out. his smile takes up half his face, you could almost see the way his eyes were squinted with joy behind his lenses.

“satoru, turn the music down.”

“what?” he moves his sunglasses to the top of his head, pulling his hair back and letting you see the way his expression drops to one of confusion. his face scrunches with the lack of comprehension and harsh rays of the sun. he turns the volume down some to hear properly, the ghost of a smile lingering.

you roll your eyes, pressing your lips into a thin line. "get out of the car."

“i think i see yuuji,” megumi says suddenly, his legs carrying him to the field in a speed walk. he was getting taller, his legs longer and faster.

don't leave me here with him, you silently plead as you watched him dart away. though, you knew he was better off far, far away from the storm that was brewing on the sidewalk. he met up with his friend by the brick pillar, yuuji waving enthusiastically. you watch as megumi snatches yuuji away sharply around the pillar just as his friend opened his mouth to say something.

the mclaren shuts off, the air quiet for a moment before satoru stumbles out of the door with an offended scoff. “what? megumi!” he tried to call out, but the little boy was already gone. 

he strolls to the sidewalk next to you, then stands with his hip popped out, one hand supporting himself. his hair is soft in the light of the sun, freshly washed with that fancy conditioner you got him one year that he couldn’t part with now. his white button up and dress pants are too fancy for a baseball game, under the constant threat of dirt and grime and sticky fingers.

he's dressed for a date, you realize. the idea of him taking megumi home and then running around with his newest interest makes your eyes twitch. rolling your lips into your mouth, you silently hope sitting in the relentless heat for the next two hours is enough to give him sweat stains.

satoru looks at you, his eyebrows raising accusingly over the sunglasses now tipped down the bridge of his nose. “did you send him away?”

you scoff, your lips curling into a delirious, bewildered smile that could only exist in the tortuous frustrations that the existence of satoru gojo brought upon you. something only he could accomplish in seconds of announcing his presence. “don't put that on me, you did that yourself. you scared him off.”

“me? scare him off?” satoru points to himself with an incredulous expression. “that kid’s not afraid of anything, he won’t even get a nightlight.”

“well, surviving his time at your house has proved he can live through anything.”

“he loves my house!”

“is that why he pretends to be sick every every other week?” you cross your arms, looking in the other direction.

“it’s very real and it’s because you have asbestos, honey.”

your nostrils flare, jaw ticking uncomfortably with a pressure you think might shatter it.

satoru waves a hand dismissively. “he always feels better when he gets to my house, gets outside on his bike and everything.”

the bass boosted speakers of his car must have damaged his ears.

for a moment you consider if it's worth it to argue visitation only. you turn your back to him and pace toward the bleachers, the heels of your shoes clicking against the concrete. you mutter to yourself, "uh huh. lets just go."

he's quick to follow, strolling up to your side with a saunter he only acted out when he knew he was on your nerves. he flares out his strides and stretches his spine taller. satoru’s eyes slowly rake over you, absorbing the way your clothes fit and the color of your skin in the warm sun. even if he wasn't painfully shameless, you could feel it, a now useless skill you had no choice but living with for the rest of your life.

you keep your head straight, a weak act of defiance when you were becoming stiff with fluster and your cheeks burn obviously.

“you look good.”

“you need a haircut," you snap.

satoru pouts, a hand instinctively coming up to fluff his hair. “i just got it cut.” 

you give him a questionable look, and triumph surges through him, bleeding through where his lips tilt upward in a smirk. looking in his direction was a dopamine hit for him, his limbs turning gooey and his chest becoming warm and spreading over his spine and the back of his neck.

“well, don’t go back. looks like you went to greatclips.”

“mei did it.”

laughter bubbles from your throat, uncontrollable and mocking. “oh, that explains it.”

"she said it's in style right now!"

your expression turns wry, looking in the opposite direction with raised eyebrows and a roguish smirk. "mei will say anything, if you pay her enough."

you wonder how much she charged for his haircut. your friendship with mei had been cordial at it's best over the years, but even as you observed her with her closer relationships, it was clear there wasn't much in this world she'd commit to without some sort of monetary incentive.

you were always convinced the tension she had with satoru at the tail end of your relationship was deliberate as he became more successful. as much as he wanted to believe he was a good judge of character, he wasn't immune to leeches, especially those who's evolution of friendship is clouded with nostalgia from their adolescence. your morbid curiosity mulled over the question of how much their entanglement had developed since things ended.

your face feels hot, between the beating sun and the indiscernible emotions brewing under your skin. you hadn't realized your lips dropped into a frown and your nose scrunched.

satoru's eyes squint for a moment, a glint of mischief sparkling, and his tongue runs over his teeth. the expression passes as quickly as it appeared, and he looks ahead to the baseball field again with a proud smirk.

"if you want me to call you, all you have to do is say so."

"oh, please," you scoffed. "you wish it were that easy."

your fingers twitch, muscles aching with atrophy at the long lost feeling of carding your fingers through satoru's hair. you remembered the purr he'd let out as you scratched along his scalp with shampoo, the way his whole body turned to putty in your hands.

satoru's feet tilt to the left and you find yourself following him to the brick walls. you cast a sideways glance to the field where parents gather, finding their places on the bleachers.

"satoru, where are you—"

he brings you to the concession stand. he slides in place before a family of five can take it first, resulting in their distant, insulting murmurs.

"you want a pretzel?" he looks at you, sliding down his sunglasses slightly. it's not a question.

"no."

"yeah, you do."

"no, satoru, i want to find a seat—"

he turns his back to you, and leans down to the concession stand window. he doesn't need to. he could just stand like a normal person. he ignores your protest behind him, turning into far-away whispers telling him there's snacks in the car.

"hi, there. could i get a pretzel, two cookies— do you guys have ginger chips? yeah, ginger chips, i know— and a lemonade? great, thanks!"

you close your eyes, taking a calming breath as he lays down far too much money for that little food. he collects the food in his arms, and takes a loud slurp of the lemonade through the swirly straw meant for children.

"okay, ready!"

another calm breath, as you lead him away from the concession.

you find your places on the short, metal bleachers that lined the baseball field. you make sure to place your purse in between the two of you with some considerable distance. satoru almost seemed impressed by the act of separation, a little bit of shock at the gall you had to do such a thing. regardless, it takes less than a second for him to casually snatch your purse and move it to the bleachers in front of you next to his food. he scoots closer, leaving barely a few inches on the bleachers and letting the spread of his legs knock into your knee.

irritation crawls over your skin leaving a violent urge in its wake, but all you do is huff and clasp your hands together on your thighs with faux amiableness. he huffs back, triumphant, and looks out to the field, before spotting megumi in the dugout and waving his hand wildly.

"megumi, hey!" satoru smiles brightly. "remember what we talked about, okay?"

the only evidence of megumi hearing satoru's voice is the roll of his eyes that follows, not bothering to look over.

your head whips in his direction. "what on earth would you have talked about?"

"he asked me for some baseball tips when he was at my house," he says as if it's obvious, shrugging.

"no, he didn't."

"he did!" satoru says defensively. "he knows i was a baseball coach."

"it was tee ball and it was two semesters of your senior year. you haven't even touched a baseball since."

"it's experience."

"you lied to him."

"i exaggerated the truth."

"you're unbelievable."

you cross your arms and squeeze the skin of your biceps as you look out to the field. your eyes meet megumi's, who stares back with the same contemplation he had before every game, his anxiety flaring due to the crowd and satoru's unashamed antics. if he faked sick, he wouldn't have to play. in fact, you would end up getting him whatever food he wanted and a movie of his choice before bed.

megumi sighs, looking away and bringing his knees to his chest on the bench. he unties and reties his cleats. you watch as yuuji throws himself down next to him, his arm instinctively wrapping around megumi's shoulder and shaking him wildly.

you rip off a chunk of the pretzel and take a bite. you know satoru is grinning next to you.

a couple walks by the front of the bleachers, interrupting your view. they have a child in between them, his a soccer uniform caked with dirt and sweat. the wife eyes the two of you with admiration and glances out to the field. "oh, which one is yours?"

satoru's eyes sparkle with the blessings of premonition. "number ten!"

she looks out to the field and places a hand on her heart, "oh, he's so cute!"

"yep! he gets it from his mom," satoru stretches, his hand clamping down on the metal bleacher on the other side of you, caging you in with shameless adoration. the side of his chest squishes against your shoulder as he pulls you close.

"uh-uh, get off." you try removing him from you, but he only leans in further, knowing there was no bite to your words.

satoru looks down at you, his nose just a few inches away from yours. you tilt your chin and hesitate, the sudden softness in his gaze short-circuiting your brain for a moment. he maintains eye contact, his lips curling into a gentle smile like he knows the effect he has. his hand snakes up and squeezes your waist.

she giggles at the show, placing a hand on her husband's arm. "how long have you been married?"

"four years."

"divorced."

you look to her with a tight smile, ignoring the dramatic sigh next to you.

her eyes widen, and her husband looks at her with discomfort. one hand raises to fiddle with the charm on her necklace. "oh, well that's…" she blushes, looking back at satoru. "still so sweet of you, to show up for… um…"

satoru chuckles. "for the kids, right?"

she laughs weakly, patting her son on the shoulder. "right, yes. well, we should get going."

quickly, they excused themselves, shuffling across the concrete until they disappear in the parking lot. once they were out of sight, you scoot away from satoru, picking up his arm and throwing it back in his lap.

"did you really have to do that?" you scoff, shaking your head.

he tilts his head back with a whine, "oh, come on. you couldn't just play along?"

"why would i do that?" you sigh, exasperated.

satoru tsked, leaning into you slightly. "for the kids, baby, come on."

"every decision i've made has been for the kids."

as the words fall from your mouth, a thick blanket of guilt lays over you. you look away quickly, staring down the field that the children found their positions on. you squeeze your hands into fists as you picture the way satoru's face drops next to you, the theatrics dropping for a moment as your words hit him like a gut punch that sucks the obnoxious air from his lungs.

the expression haunts you, forcing reminiscence on the decision that rocked both of your lives. when the demand had left you, and the blood drained from his face, his eyes becoming hollow and barren from anything at all while his mind drifted in confusion. your life together passed over his vision in glimpses, you knew that because you'd already gone through it when you made your decision weeks before.

satoru clears his throat, looking out to the field as well. megumi is in the outfield, where he was most comfortable, away from everyone else.

you eyes roam the rest of the park, where games had started. in the distance you spot a looming figure prowling the perimeter of the field, his eyes narrowed aggressively as he looks through the chain link fence, finding his way to the bleachers. the air warps around him. disgust is scrawled over his face, deep in his wrinkles that pull his eyebrows and the corners of his lips, like this was the last place on earth he wanted to be and everyone around him should be aware, for their own well being.

he carries a dark duffel, the weight of whatever inside drooping in the center. he holds it with one hand like it weighs nothing, and judging by the size of his arms, you could assume it really is nothing to him.

satoru follows your gaze, his mouth dropping open with a careless display of disgust. "oh, you've got to be—"

"sukuna!" you call, grinning like you hit the jackpot. in a way, you had. your cheeks hurt from the way they pinch with pure delight.

sukuna meets your eyes, recognition softening his gaze, before he glances at the person next to you and his face hardens again. his nostrils flare and he makes his way to your bleachers.

he approaches and drops his duffel next to your purse, the bleachers rattling loudly at the careless crash against metal. it all but silences the parents on the other side, who gasp and watch him cautiously as he climbs the bleachers to sit next to you. he doesn't pay them any mind, looking out to the field instead and stretching himself across the open space without regard.

"what the hell is in that thing?" satoru grumbles, glaring at the duffel that managed to catch everyone's attention.

sukuna ignores him. instead, his eyes rake over you. "you look good, you been at the gym?"

satoru bristles beside you, a scoff escaping him.

bingo.

you roll your eyes as you blush, "oh, no. not lately."

he smirks. "coulda fooled me."

you lean forward, carefully grabbing the stuffed animal on a carabiner attached to one of the handles. "oh, this is cute! is this yuuji's?"

sukuna grunts with disapproval. it's a piece of plastic covered in orange fur with a hard face, sharp pointy teeth that rivaled his own drawn in a wide, mischievous grin.

"yeah, some laboo thing that's popular. nobara convinced him he needed one so they could match." he shakes his head. "damn brat wasting my money."

you smile softly. "i should get megumi one so they can all match."

"it's a scam."

"a cute scam. look at him!"

sukuna looks at you with a frown, almost disappointed with your commitment to this item you learned of seconds ago. his eyes are gentle, the only indicator of any amity while the rest of his appearance was brooding and rough. he sits down next to you, bracing his forearms against his thick thighs as he leans forward.

next to you, satoru had distracted himself with his phone. uncharacteristic, but pleasant.

"how's work treatin' you?" sukuna asks, looking at you. "that kenny guy still giving you trouble?"

the bleachers grind as satoru stiffens, no doubt a look of betrayal and confusion etched into his face. he knew about your promotion out of your department, being surrounded by new faces and bosses you'd have to impress and prove yourself to all over again. but you hadn't told him about any trouble.

you wince. "well, he was on vacation this week. but it's, you know, rocky."

"someone's giving you trouble?" satoru pushes up his sunglasses.

"it's not like that, he's just—"

"a dick," sukuna finishes. "probably the reason the person in your position quit, anyway."

"we don't know that."

satoru pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek. "when did that start?"

"right after she moved offices," sukuna grumbles an answer fo you.

"and you didn't tell me?"

you roll your eyes. "every office has a resident asshole."

"mine doesn't."

you and sukuna look at him, mirrored expressions of raised eyebrows and a skeptical gaze as you wait for the moment that it clicks. it doesn't come.

a sharp slap echoes from the field, and the three of you look over to see number thirteen on the opposite team sprint from home base. the ball flies through the air, far into the field, landing softy into megumi's glove.

the opposite team groans as the player lazily jogs to the bench, his legs dragging with defeat.

you're quick to squeal, clapping excitedly while satoru stands on the bleachers and draws all attention to himself.

"good catch, megumi!"

you can see his frown from here, dragging down the corners of his face. he throws the ball to the pitcher with a heavy sigh, as if suddenly bored. absentmindedly, you eat another piece of the pretzel.

satoru sits again, grinning proudly with his sweaty palms bracing against his dress pants. "i showed him that."

"how to catch a ball?"

satoru offers you the lemonade, and you take a sip.

"how to look cool while doing it."

sukuna rolls his eyes next to you.

the game goes on. the teams switch positions and yuuji is one of the first up to bat. the bleachers groan under sukuna's tension. he leans forward with a hardened gaze of concentration, the kind of expression that would make anyone else think he was cursing this small child.

you watch as yuuji hits the cheap bat against the dirt twice, dust flying up and staining the white uniform pants. he crouches, positioning it over his shoulder with a determined glare, and you hear sukuna growl in approval.

the ball is thrown, and yuuji swings his bat. it echoes through the field with a resounding crack! and before anyone can land their eyes on the baseball, yuuji is already disappearing from home base. a swarm of red dust is left in his place, lingering in the air and trailing him as he digs each foot into the dirt to propel himself forward.

he's fast. it's nothing new, and not hard to forget with all the times you've seen him run around your backyard or bounce off the walls of your home when he's with megumi, but seeing him move with such drive still makes your eyes bug out of your head.

sukuna claps his hands once, rocking back on the bleachers with a silent fist pump. his tension is replaced with a smirk that blooms with pride.

the ball is out of the field, the opposite team had given up and resigned themselves to watching it fly into the distant woods. still, yuuji makes a show of hitting all three bases with a gleeful leap, and slides across the dirt back to home base.

his team is cheering, bouncing off each other— dragging each other by their clothes in excitement too big for their bodies. he makes his way to the dugout, immediately being shook by the other players in congratulations.

"that's what i'm talking about," sukuna grumbles to himself, dragging his hand over his mouth.

satoru cheers, wooing loudly. "yeeaaah! let's go yuuji! good job!"

yuuji turns, his eyes wide with adrenaline and excitement. he gives a proud thumbs up.

your claps wind down as the next player comes up to bat, and satoru settled back next to you. the side of his body presses against yours, and his elbow leans on the cool metal behind you.

"that kid's somethin' else, sweets," he hums, tilting his head. "it's good for megumi to have him around."

"yeah," you murmur. the side of your body is sticky with the sweat seeping through satoru's dress shirt. "they balance each other out."

your eyes drift to satoru as he takes a bite of one of his chocolate chip cookies that had quickly melted in the sun. he laps up the dripping chocolate with his tongue, and devours it in a second bite.

you just watch him. from this angle, you could see his eyes just past the thin frames of his sunglasses, no dark barrier keeping you from seeing his bright blues focused on the game, attentive and anticipating. you do think he wishes sometimes he went further with baseball, or any sport, unfortunately he was skilled in every single one he tried. his long lashes fluttered against his cheeks, every so often catching on his lenses— that's why he kept them so far down his nose most of the time, you knew.

the chocolate smeared over the corner of his mouth, which he doesn't notice as he wipes off his hands with a napkin.

"satoru."

his eyebrows shoot up as he looks at you, the gentleness of your tone catching him off guard.

you lick your thumb, and swipe it across the corner of his mouth with furrowed eyebrows. your thumb dips along the soft pink of his lower lip, slowly. to thoroughly catch all the chocolate, of course.

satoru is not a man easily fooled. as you pull your hand away, he tilts his head with a knowing smirk. "if you wanted to lick me, all you had to do—"

you roll your eyes, looking away as you lick the chocolate off your thumb. you swallow it down with satoru's lemonade. "don't start."

it's the final inning.

it's megumi's turn to bat, and you wrap your fingers over the edge of the bleachers and dig your skin into the cold metal as you brace yourself. the bat twists in his hands with the unease that had building in his gut, the dread pooling in anticipation for this moment— where he could feel your eyes on him, and hear the creak of the bleachers underneath satoru's excited rocking back and forth.

he pulls the bat up to his shoulder, and grinds his cleats into the dirt.

satoru pries your hand off the bleachers, squeezing it instead. you squeeze back.

the pitcher winds up, and throws the ball. your breath hitches.

smack!

the ball slaps against the bat and ricochets into the air with far more strength than anticipated from a brooding 11 year old. it soars above the heads of the opposite team, not as powerful as his friend's swing before, so they start to race it toward the outfield.

the bleachers rattle as you and satoru jump to your feet, your hand instinctively wrapping around his forearm as you watch megumi.

he drops the bat to the side and jogs to first base like he couldn't care less, digging his feet into the white plate.

the opposite team is scrambling to chase down the ball as it rolls through the grass.

"megumi! keep going!"

"megs, come on! second base!"

your heart is racing as your nails dig into satoru's arm with a rough shake, adrenaline buzzing in your veins. satoru doesn't notice, he's hunched next to you with a focused glare, like he's fighting every urge in his body to lunge over the seats and shake the chain link fence himself.

megumi looks back to meet your eyes, and you watch his shoulders drop with a dramatic sigh. he starts a reluctant jog to second base, casting a glance to the other players as they finally grasp the ball and toss it closer to the center field.

he passes over second base, and keeps running.

an excited scream escapes you, as you tug satoru closer to you like a rag doll. he shakes free of your iron grip and wraps his arm around your back instead, his eyes on the field. your hand bunches into his dress shirt. you're both shaking back and forth in anticipation, like megumi alone carries the family's honor on his little head.

"come on megumi! you got it!"

"home base! go to home base!"

he slows down as he approaches third base, cautiously looking behind him where the opposite team has their eyes on him and the ball flies through the air with impending doom. still, his feet slam against the plate harder and faster.

"bring it home, megumi!"

he stomps over home base, just before the baseball makes contact with the player guarding the plate. his team in the dugout erupts like they'd been holding back the entire game for this moment, megumi's moment. their screams of joy slice through the ear, triggering ringing ears across the bleachers.

satoru jumps once, rattling the metal seats for everyone else, who glare at him pointedly. a drink spills. a purse falls to the ground. he doesn't care, pumping one first in the air proudly as the air warps around him with his chanting.

"yeah, let's fucking go, megumi!"

(there's a hush from a nearby parent, only sukuna hears it, and snickers).

you're still tucked into satoru, clapping excitedly as you watch megumi get toppled by his team. they're loud, ignoring the whistling from the coach to separate them. it's fruitless, the boys are too far gone in their dogpile in the dirt while they cheer him on.

he's pulled out by yuuji, who tackles him off to the side himself, bouncing like his bones are made of springs. he's thrashing megumi back and forth like he has no say in this matter, which he really doesn't.

the game ends there, 13-8.

you descend the bleachers, slipping out of satoru's grasp. his eyebrows jump with surprise as he steadies his shoes on the concrete, and he nearly presses himself against your back as you walk closer to the fence. you don't acknowledge it, too preoccupied with the anticipation of megumi finally leaving the field. your chest was tight with pride, your heart swelling with excitement at the instance of megumi finally trying, inching towards his potential.

the players are released, a swarm of body odor, sweat, and dirt escaping the dugouts as they disperse across the sidewalk to find their families. it's easy to spot megumi, being dragged by the hand by a still-bouncing yuuji— the boy had inhuman levels of energy.

he's already rambling when he catches up to you, speaking too fast and too soon for you to catch on to what he's saying or who he was trying to speak to. his eyes are wide and sparkling when he tugs megumi to his side, then raises their hands together.

"did you see that? did you see fushiguro? he ran so fast! i thought he was going to stop, buthejustkeptgoing—"

megumi's face is red with embarrassment as he tugs his hand back to his body, and crosses his arms. "it's not like i won the game, we were already winning."

satoru is next to embarrass him, carelessly clamping his hand down on megumi's sweaty hair, and rocking his head back and forth. "you killed it out there, megumi! you learn something from your old man, huh?"

the boy sneers. "what would i learn from you?"

satoru frowns, and you step forward before he can keep talking.

"you did great, megs! your home run was incredible, i'm so proud of you!"

he keeps his arms crossed, looking away from you, but the absence of a snide comment told you enough.

yuuji waves goodbye with both hands as makes his way to sukuna still sitting in the empty stands. sukuna is quick to hoist him over his shoulder (just to hear his squeals of playful terror), and grab his mystery duffel with his other hand as he stands.

you smile. "bye, sukuna! it was nice seeing you!"

his grin is wicked, and the wink that follows is even more diabolical.

satoru scoffs under his breath. "what a tool."

megumi raises an eyebrow. "what does that mean?"

"i'll tell you later," satoru stage-whispers.

"no, you won't," you say sharpy, glaring at your ex husband.

your heart is still beating wildly in your chest, despite the adrenaline fizzling out of your body. you meet satoru's eyes, still standing with his body against yours, smirking at you like he's won at something. his arm snakes around your side with a possession that had been kept at a distance for years.

you don't fight it, not really, you only squint at him as he squeezes your skin.

he pats megumi's shoulder with the bag of ginger chips from the concession stand, before handing them to him normally. "bet you're starved, huh? she feed you this morning?"

you roll your eyes. "you say that like i'm the one who leaves him alone to make ramen himself."

megumi wipes his hands on the only clean part of his uniform before eating the chips.

satoru lifts a finger defensively, hovering it in front of your nose. "i did not leave him alone, and tsumiki said she wanted to make dinner!"

"you know she should not be operating a stove."

"she wants to learn! who am i to get in the way of a blossoming mind?"

you look down at megumi, tilting your head. "you hungry, megumi? for real food?"

he nods.

satoru crouches next to megumi with the grace of a car dealership floatie man. "what are you feeling? thai? chicken? burgers?"

you close your eyes to take a deep, calming breath. "i'm cooking dinner tonight, satoru."

"what? what kind of victory meal is that?"

"is there something wrong with my cooking?"

satoru pales like he didn't expect that, and for the first time in a long time his smile is more nervous than smug. "what? no, baby, i'm just saying he should be able to eat out! let's take him out after a good game! megumi?"

his look is pleading, for backup he usually doesn't get, only from tsumiki on occasion.

merciful, megumi shrugs. "burgers sound fine."

he might as well be jumping for joy.

satoru stretches his arms as he stands. "what about our spot by the park? yeah? great!"

you look at him skeptically, your eyes flickering down to the dress pants stained with dirt somehow, and the nice button-up that had become wrinkled with your sweaty palms balling it up earlier. maybe his date would think him a little pathetic.

"don't you have somewhere to be?"

your ex husband smirks, tilting his head. "i only dress like this for you, sweets."

you blink. you should have realized sooner.

this is his date.

the muscle under your eye twitches with irritation, at your lack of forethought or the audacity of him, you're not sure.

his elbow locks with yours, as he tugs you toward the parking lot, parading you like you're his prize.

"so, the usual? i don't want to hear you switched up your order once we sit down, that'll be embarrassing for me."

"are you serious?"

he brings you to the side of his car, opening the door for you. with a glance, you can see the stuffed, palm-sized sun he kept on his dashboard while you were dating. it was once a pure yellow with orange flame, but had been bleached after all the years beneath his windshield.

there was a matching moon back at home, sitting on your nightstand.

satoru's stomach grumbles, but he only brightens. as you pause, he gestures to his body as living proof. "this is life and death, baby. i'm starving."

megumi welcomes himself to the back seat, kicking his dirty cleats against the ground before settling in. satoru doesn't pay it or the dirt on his fancy leather seats any mind, too focused on you. (he will never mind, a cleaning bill costs nothing if it means megumi sticks around).

you looked at your ex-husband with caution. "no funny business."