When he regains consciousness properly, the infirmary is empty, and Suguru is alone. There's still a hint of sluggishness to his limbs, but the problem has been mostly dealt with by his cursed energy. He deals with his hygiene. Takes a shower. Changes clothes. Wonders where Satoru is, and what he's doing. Wonders if Satoru's avoiding him.

He finds Yaga in the kitchen, back slumped, hands around a plain white mug. Coffee, Suguru knows, from its smell permeating thick through the air.

They stare, for a moment. He's grown his hair out, a little. Wears shades now, too. Suguru doesn't need to see Yaga's eyes to observe how obviously uncomfortable his presence makes the other, though. And Suguru just doesn't '

doesn't wanna deal with this shit.

"I'll...use another kitchen," Suguru says, after moment, voice awkwardly loud. He turns heel, wet hair cold against his skin, and '

"Wait!"

Suguru pauses, twists half around. Raises a brow. "What?"