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Satoru feels the ground for a good place to start digging, the ground is cold, the rays of the evening sun breaching through the branches of the old oak tree not enough to warm it.
It reminds him of cold winter nights huddled together with Suguru and being the only source of heat for the eachother. It's hiding in Suguru's warmth from the biting cold, that was always able to reach him despite his infinity.
The icy winter wind caresses his cheeks and plays with his lose hair.
Suguru loved his hair, he used to put clips in it and pet it like he would a cats fur. He would compliment Satoru for it all the time repeating how soft it is to his touch.
The cold is making his cheeks rosy and flush with blood and warmth. Or maybe it's the thoughts of the past.
He has found a good place, wet from the melted snow, so he starts digging.
The earthy scent of the ground is freed and enhanced by his digging. Keeping the rotting smell at bay. It smells like now and then, like present and reality.
It grounds Satoru in the present like he used to do.
Time passes, the sun lowers itself till it is barely visible. Until it vanishes completely. Robbed of the warmth of the sun and standing in the shadow of the great Oak tree Satoru is getting colder.
He misses the warmth. His body was never good at preserving heat.
Satoru looks up to see the moon already visible and full. It's starting it's ascend. The nightsky hasn't fallen on us yet, he can already muster some stars shining down on them. Lowering his gaze to the snowy landscape displayed to him, he deems this a fitting resting place. White and pure, one emotion one essence. Cold but also capable of keeping warm.
Suguru's truth.
He likes to think of Suguru as pure though he knows it as a lie. Clinging to the memory of what once was.
He so dearly wishes it wasn't a lie.
He fantasizes about what could have been every waking second. Wishing for something out of his reach, like his infinity is keeping him out of everyon's reach. Not Suguru's though, he was always there, always near, always touching
breaking through his infinity like hot water through ice. Coming forth on the other side always in Satoru's proximity.
He's pulled out of his thoughts by a loud thud coming from the hole he has dug so far.
Probably a stone, it doesn't matter. Looking at the hole he considers it big enough. He puts the shovel away and takes a deep breath in preparation for what is to come.
He's feared this for some reason, an ending, a final sentence. Maybe it is because he hasn't processed the events of past days or maybe because he can't handle change. Being alone again and feeling it. Even if Suguru has been gone for years already, he still had hope and longed for days long gone, knowing Suguru was still out there.
Now Suguru's corpse lays next to him. No warmth will ever come from him again, no company left for Satoru, no one ever daring to reach for the unreachable man. He closes the distance, crouching down in one motion.
Satoru reaches for Suguru's corpse, resting his hand on Suguru's heart, feeling for the pulsation of a heartbeat, reassuring himself that this is the end.
He starts to feel his eyes getting wet. It used to be foreign sensation, this hurt and vulnerability.
Not all tears shed for Suguru were shed in hurt.
But the ones he lost to Suguru since the betrayal were. It's comforting in some ways, to put your agony into something physical and leave it behind. It helps you defeat the wave of misery that is love.
He remembers falling to his knees the moment he reached a space away from everyone, alone. Alone so Satoru could be vulnerable. Tears were falling freely and all the hoarded emotions let free to control Satoru. This wasn't the first time since he found out about Suguru's betrayal that he cried but the first time he let himself feel it all. If someone would've attacked him they could've killed him. Infinity deactivated, oblivious to his surroundings, only feeling the gut wrenching hurt and his lungs denying him air. He wanted to cease to exist, to stop feeling this agony, to feel anything besides anguish.
His breathing has quickened again, the cold air in his lungs making his throat feel sore. He blinks his eyes open, looking at where his hand rests.
He's gone, move on. He tells himself.
He sees the proof of it right in front of him, still he refuses to accept it.
He tells himself that this isn't the end, that he will make the world a better place so no one has to feel alone again. So no one has to hate again.
He will preserve Suguru's dream, not in the way Suguru would've wished but in the way he can, or should. He will focus on the good things and stay positive, he will be strong for Suguru.
Preserve Suguru's memory so they can continue.
He removes his hand from Suguru's body and picks him up, taking the few steps to the grave he dug.
He drops to his knees, holding Suguru close to him as to not lose him.
He takes a last look at the person who accompanied him on countless missions, who he spent endless nights with talking and holding onto, his bestfriend and beloved, his first and last warm springtime of youth. He forces his face away because he's started shaking again.
Straining his already shaking muscles he starts lowering Suguru's body. He places him there, paying particular care to not hurt Suguru.
He brushes loose strands of black hair out of Suguru's face and cups it one last time, to look into his eyes. They are lifeless but he tells himself he can see the remnants of life and warmth in them. Purple they are of color, just like remnants of cursed energy. They once gazed at him with pure adoration. He remembers staring at them at night thinking about them as old lovers, how he would look with crows feet. If they would still hold the same fire they used to. Back then he imagined them together, always and forever. He could not have imagined the outcome, innocent and hopeful for the first time, blinded by faith.
He closes them so it looks like Suguru is sleeping. This should make it easier he tells himself.
He stands up out of the grave feeling weak and drained. He barely did any physical labor today still he feels like collapsing. He looks down again, not content with a goodbye. He knows he has to end this now.
He reaches into his pocket pulling out a flower with white petals and a splash of black coming from the center, Snowstorm it's called.
Suguru liked the name of the flower and he claimed it fit Satoru.
Gojo Satoru, a snowstorm with white hair, pale cold skin and a power that came like a storm over the world and clouded everything and everyone making him the only thing left in sight. All consuming and beautiful in it's destruction.
He drops it into the grave and quickly turns to fetch the shovel. The grip on the shovel is cold.
He digs the shovel into the dirt he dug out just minutes before, or hours he wouldn't know, and starts filling the grave with dirt.
As the grave starts to fill and Suguru's body disappear from sight he takes a few deep breaths. Trying to stabilize his breathing again and bring back some strength to his limps.
Banishing the unsettling memories of Suguru leaning against a building all alone bloodied and defeated.
He stills. He realizes this is the end, he will never see Suguru's face again. All he has now are memories. He's on the verge of breaking again when a warm wind hits him. It feels like him, like their time spent together.
It seems that spring is already fighting to come forth.
He collects himself and continues, putting the last few bits of dirt in Suguru's grave, sealing it close.
At last he raises his head and looks at the landscape. All he sees is white, the snow is hiding the beauty, which is revealed in spring, from the world. When the cold retreats and warmth returns to the land, the white turns into all colors known to humans. In spring this field is covered by hundreds of different flowers blossoming all in confusion to the other.
He looks up into the sky and sees a clear nightsky, the stars are bright and the moon is brighter. He wouldn't need his six eyes to see tonight. The moon is high above him signaling midnight. He didn't feel the time passing.
He gazes again at the world spread out in front of him.
This place is perfect.
In summer the sun hits the tree first and stays on it the longest. Keeping it and the surroundings warm and bright. From here Suguru won't have a long way.
It makes him happy to think about returning to Suguru one day. They were always happy because of eachother.
He turns away from the grave, from Suguru and the past and walks onto a new path. A new future.
On a little hill, next to an old Oak tree, surrounded by a blanket of white snow, Gojo Satoru, the Strongest, buries the person that was closer to him than family, his first and last warm springtime of youth.