He hears the shifting of fabric, the way that Suguru moves his robes to go in search of the object in question. Satoru waits for the reveal he knows he will not be able to see, and tries to determine what it could be. Something small enough to fit hidden away on his person — something Satoru likely would not have been able to tell he was carrying, or Suguru would have expected him to call it out earlier.
And something annoying, not unlike Satoru himself.
But there is no sound to give away a hint, and Suguru offers nothing of his own beyond a callback to a time and place long ago. But Satoru cannot see the shape in his palm, nor can he feel any energy emanating from it. Suguru has successfully called his bluff, and they both know it.
His impulse is to reach out. It's a move he would make under any other circumstances. Satoru reacting in that way would be normal, and Suguru must anticipate it — a scuffle, like in the old days, with him keeping something away and Satoru lunging for it. The two of them tumbling to the floor as they struggle over something stupid, until they break apart to laugh, with Suguru handing it over anyway, as they both knew he would all along.
But he holds back, and not because he's functionally blind. A fight without his eyes would not be ideal, but Satoru retains his other abilities. He does not need to see to win. But rather, to touch the prize would mean letting it through his Infinity — normally an easy task, something Satoru can do with little effort, but that would take precious energy from his dwindling supply. If this, or any of his other interactions in this car, leads to a situation where he has to fight, he needs as much of his energy as he can spare. And in keeping his Infinity active all this time, he has already used up enough of it to feel fatigued. It's been a long time since he last had to consider the toll his abilities take; given some of the threats on the train, he needs to be smart about how he uses them.]
You're the one who likes annoying things.
[To someone who happens to be walking by at that moment, it may sound like a rejection of what is offered. Satoru turns his head away from where he is pretending to look, away from the palm that he knows is held before him, the mysterious prize brandished in a way that undoubtedly seeks to confirm his current limitations.
But the words are more than that. They're an acknowledgement of a memory, of a conversation that they had years ago. They're not turning down the gift, but rather, accepting this test for what it is. Satoru is admitting, without outright saying it, that Suguru is correct — there is now no point in doing otherwise, because the moment of recognition passes before Satoru can assess how to react — and offering, in turn, an acceptance of what the prize should have somehow represented, if he could see it. If he knew what it was.]
I was hoping it'd be something sweet.
[He assumes it isn't, as sweets aren't annoying, certainly not to Satoru, whose sweet tooth rivals that of young children. And truth be told, a piece of candy would be great right about now.
He sighs. That smile is still on his lips. Satoru directs his attention upward, to a ceiling he can't see.]
Guess I've got no choice.
[And he really doesn't have a choice, presented with this confirmation of what Suguru now knows. He cannot accept the prize that Suguru offers in lieu of the one he suggested, because Suguru is now much more dangerous with the knowledge that he holds — with the vulnerability he now knows Satoru harbors. And while Satoru has invited him to sit beside him knowing the risks, in a temporary truce, as a form of that still-unforgotten trust that exists between them, that trust is limited. It has to be, because Satoru has seen with his own lost eyes the lengths that Suguru is willing to go to reach his goals — and he knows these trains are not filled with jujutsu sorcerers.
Though Suguru may be without his allies, he is still capable of hurting others.
And Satoru, his biggest obstacle, is restrained in ways he hasn't been since they were teenagers. Even more so, now that he cannot see.]
no subject
He hears the shifting of fabric, the way that Suguru moves his robes to go in search of the object in question. Satoru waits for the reveal he knows he will not be able to see, and tries to determine what it could be. Something small enough to fit hidden away on his person — something Satoru likely would not have been able to tell he was carrying, or Suguru would have expected him to call it out earlier.
And something annoying, not unlike Satoru himself.
But there is no sound to give away a hint, and Suguru offers nothing of his own beyond a callback to a time and place long ago. But Satoru cannot see the shape in his palm, nor can he feel any energy emanating from it. Suguru has successfully called his bluff, and they both know it.
His impulse is to reach out. It's a move he would make under any other circumstances. Satoru reacting in that way would be normal, and Suguru must anticipate it — a scuffle, like in the old days, with him keeping something away and Satoru lunging for it. The two of them tumbling to the floor as they struggle over something stupid, until they break apart to laugh, with Suguru handing it over anyway, as they both knew he would all along.
But he holds back, and not because he's functionally blind. A fight without his eyes would not be ideal, but Satoru retains his other abilities. He does not need to see to win. But rather, to touch the prize would mean letting it through his Infinity — normally an easy task, something Satoru can do with little effort, but that would take precious energy from his dwindling supply. If this, or any of his other interactions in this car, leads to a situation where he has to fight, he needs as much of his energy as he can spare. And in keeping his Infinity active all this time, he has already used up enough of it to feel fatigued. It's been a long time since he last had to consider the toll his abilities take; given some of the threats on the train, he needs to be smart about how he uses them.]
You're the one who likes annoying things.
[To someone who happens to be walking by at that moment, it may sound like a rejection of what is offered. Satoru turns his head away from where he is pretending to look, away from the palm that he knows is held before him, the mysterious prize brandished in a way that undoubtedly seeks to confirm his current limitations.
But the words are more than that. They're an acknowledgement of a memory, of a conversation that they had years ago. They're not turning down the gift, but rather, accepting this test for what it is. Satoru is admitting, without outright saying it, that Suguru is correct — there is now no point in doing otherwise, because the moment of recognition passes before Satoru can assess how to react — and offering, in turn, an acceptance of what the prize should have somehow represented, if he could see it. If he knew what it was.]
I was hoping it'd be something sweet.
[He assumes it isn't, as sweets aren't annoying, certainly not to Satoru, whose sweet tooth rivals that of young children. And truth be told, a piece of candy would be great right about now.
He sighs. That smile is still on his lips. Satoru directs his attention upward, to a ceiling he can't see.]
Guess I've got no choice.
[And he really doesn't have a choice, presented with this confirmation of what Suguru now knows. He cannot accept the prize that Suguru offers in lieu of the one he suggested, because Suguru is now much more dangerous with the knowledge that he holds — with the vulnerability he now knows Satoru harbors. And while Satoru has invited him to sit beside him knowing the risks, in a temporary truce, as a form of that still-unforgotten trust that exists between them, that trust is limited. It has to be, because Satoru has seen with his own lost eyes the lengths that Suguru is willing to go to reach his goals — and he knows these trains are not filled with jujutsu sorcerers.
Though Suguru may be without his allies, he is still capable of hurting others.
And Satoru, his biggest obstacle, is restrained in ways he hasn't been since they were teenagers. Even more so, now that he cannot see.]
I'll go with my first pick.