Chapter Eight: Sunlight

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"Let me preface this by saying no, I was not aware of your promotion. It was rather sudden." A tall and well built Principal Yaga glances over at Satoru with a deep frown. It's only been a short amount of time since his former teacher became the principal of Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College but it's a position that fits the middle aged man, Satoru thinks. A school of the same caliber as this one requires a person with a stern and unyielding disposition.

It's hard work managing this school, Satoru has no doubt, especially a school that has himself in it will be nearly impossible to even want to deal with. Satoru makes a mental note to send Yaga a fruit basket or something as compensation for all the headaches he had caused.

Satoru stays quiet, taking the time to study the man across the desk. His keen eyes can see the gleam of the hints of silver in his short cropped hair and beard. Yaga moves robotically as if he's either uncomfortable with this conversation or displeased. If Satoru has to guess, it would be the latter. As much as Yaga likes to complain about the problems, headaches and problems that Satoru likes to cause, Yaga never turns Satoru away. Under that tough exterior is a man who cares exponentially for his team and students and Satoru is aware that Yaga must like him well enough to continuously clean up his messes. In a strange way that Satoru can't really explain, Yaga had always been some sort of father figure to him. He's never had anyone to hold him accountable for his shenanigans before Yaga and Satoru respects that, admires it even. It's not often that someone willingly tells Satoru off point blank.

Either way, Satoru believes that Yaga is vexed with this sudden turn of events. After all, all it takes is a glance down to the tightly clenched fist Yaga has next to a closed file. The silence between them is almost awkward, only broken by the soft ticking of a wall clock.

A kettle in the corner of the room begins to whistle, Satoru lets out a sigh when Yaga stands up to turn it off. Hopefully now, the tension is broken and they can talk about Satoru's sudden promotion and relocation. Satoru keeps his eyes on the principal's broad back with a frown as the older man fetches two mugs from a cabinet.

"It seems as if the sorcerer executives would like to keep a closer eye on you," Yaga hums, pouring the steaming water into the mugs. Satoru's frown deepens. "They're very invested in the progress of your technique. They certainly haven't forgotten your fight with Fushiguro Toji."

Satoru's face sours and he scoffs in indignation, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. It doesn't surprise him in the slightest that the elders would take one of Satoru's worst days and warp it into their main focal point of their interest in him. There are countless nights where he's forced to relive that day in the form of paralyzing nightmares. He's cursed to feel the searing heat of a knife cutting through his body over and over again, where he feels his life force draining as he chokes on his own blood- forced to listen to the terrified screaming of Amanai Riko.

On particularly bad nights, it's Getou who is stabbed multiple times as Satoru is frozen by shock and disbelief. Those nights never get any easier, seeing the man who holds all of his heart die in his arms. Even long after he wakes up after those nightmares, he can't shake off the dread that sinks deep into his stomach as if he's waiting for it to become a horrible reality for him. Logically, Satoru tells himself that it's all part of the business of being a sorcerer or being in one's life but that doesn't make him feel any better.

Live fast, die young and hopefully without any sort of regrets. He finds himself wondering if he would have any regrets whenever death comes for him. Yes, Satoru ultimately decides. Until he manages to tell Getou of his feelings, there will always be regret. Satoru wonders if he should tell Getou after this briefing. If the outcome is nasty, well, Satoru is leaving in the morning so it won't matter that much. Though a small part of him wishes that he and Getou will be the lucky few that grow old. Preferably together.

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