to you next spring

And in fiction and reality alike, Suguru is pulling away. Satoru isn’t sure what he can do anymore. Has he exhausted all options? Is their bond doomed to rot like this, when it hasn’t even been their third-year anniversary just yet? They should hold out longer, maybe things will change — but winter seems to drag on forever, and spring is not in sight at all, despite the fact that it’ll come next year, like every other spring. Satoru’s waiting for the day that the first buds would sprout from the treetops outside their studio, but he waits and he waits and he waits and before he knows it they’re arguing again, and they’re shouting for no reason, and—Satoru’s just so tired. A relationship is supposed to be rejuvenating, not draining.