Chapter Text
The speed with which Satoru’s emotions were putting him through the craziest fucking rollercoaster would give a lesser man a broken neck from the intensity of the whiplash.
But Satoru was the strongest, so he did not get whiplash. He just continued sailing through the violent curves. Hands in the motherfucking air. Alternatingly grinning his fucking face off and catching a scream in the back of his throat.
Zen’in Toji.
Honestly, Satoru should have remembered the man. The only person who had ever been able to sneak up behind him without him noticing.
Of course, Satoru had noticed, and had turned his head to see what was there in that strange space of non-presence, but upon seeing the man there, his curiosity had been satisfied and he’d turned away, not registering the man as a threat due to the lack of cursed energy. He’d heard the whispers about the Zen’in’s shame, the one with no cursed energy, so he knew who the man was and had deemed him insignificant and not worthy of attention. After all, he himself was the strongest. A man with no cursed energy couldn’t do anything.
He should’ve realized that it was exactly that lack of cursed energy that made Zen’in Toji more dangerous than anyone.
Nobody else could ever sneak up on him.
And then there was the man’s Heavenly Restriction, his superhuman strength and reflexes and senses—and all his knowledge from being a Zen’in, and his intelligence in putting it to use.
Nobody else could have killed him.
The pain, the bewilderment, the panic, the fear, the realization that he could not win—
Gojo Satoru had never felt so alive. Had never felt so small and mortal.
And then finally, in those moments, figuring out how to create the positive energy to heal himself, coming back from that death knowing how to use Red, realizing he could now use Purple—
Gojo Satoru had never felt so much like a god. Had never felt so high.
Finding Zen’in Toji, fighting him again—he was excited, he was manic, he couldn’t believe this Zen’in not being able to see that he’d already lost since Satoru was alive, Satoru existed, in heaven and earth he alone was the honored one.
There was bliss, there was peace, he was untouchable as a deity, he was floating, he was power itself. He did not hate or blame Zen’in Toji, but oh, he needed to show him. Show him that he was like unto a god, and the Zen’in had lost.
Satoru’s Hollow Purple blasted a hole through him, and Satoru was exhilarated because he had done it. He had successfully used Hollow Purple, and he’d killed the Sorcerer Killer, the Sorcerer Killer who could kill anyone except for him.
Whatever he had expected from Zen’in Toji upon realizing his loss, his death—it was not what he saw in the man’s face.
There was no fear. There was no anger. There was nothing but acceptance, and—disappointment?
“Any last words?” Satoru was—confused. Taken off guard by the man—again. A strange yearning in him, a sudden discontent, almost—desperation? For what?
“Nah.” The man sounded tired. A slight stirring in him, then, a flash of—regret? “In two or three years, my kid’s gonna be sold to the Zen’in clan. Do what you want.”
Zen’in Toji died still standing. His body, a giant hole through it, did not fall. Just stood there in the setting sun, still dripping blood, and the curse around him, the ugly worm—it was crying. Well, not crying with tears, but just with sound—a whimpering, whining, like a dog would cry, but in its weak echoey curse voice. Satoru had always thought that the sounds curses made were kind of like the audible equivalent of when you looked at a 3D movie without the 3D glasses. Surreal and not lined up at the edges.
And Satoru felt a—falling, first slow and drifting and then the rollercoaster was diving and the panic was there, because he had just killed the only person who could match him. The only person who could possibly actually keep up with him, the only person who could kill him—
Being an immortal god was suddenly terrifying.
The feeling when Zen’in Toji had stabbed and killed him, the feeling of I am not alone where I am. I am not untouchable. This man can touch me.
Having that feeling suddenly gone—he hadn’t even realized he’d always been falling until, for those moments, Zen’in Toji had grasped onto his hand and gripped him tightly. And now his dead hand had gone lax and Satoru was falling again and suddenly it wasn’t okay like it had been before because he’d just gained the sight to look all the way down and there was no ground. Just Infinity, with nothing to grasp onto. Infinity, infinitely.
Only Zen’in Toji had ever managed to touch him in that space—Satoru had so much cursed energy, so much more than anybody, he left everyone so far behind, but Zen’in Toji with his absolute lack of any cursed energy whatsoever, with his infinite nothingness, had gone so far in the opposite direction that he had met Satoru where he was. Everyone else was chasing behind him but Zen’in Toji had been running in the opposite direction and gotten ahead of him.
And it wasn’t fair to say that Zen’in Toji was weaker than him because he’d lost to him, because it wouldn’t have been fair to say that Satoru himself was weaker than Toji because he’d lost to him earlier, because when Satoru came back from that death he was stronger—so he felt sure that if Zen’in Toji were to also come back, he would also be stronger. That now that he’d had a taste of Hollow Purple, he would be able to find a way to counter it, like Satoru had been able to find a way to counter him—
It wasn’t okay for Zen’in Toji to end here. He could still evolve more, Satoru knew he had the potential, he could grow along with Satoru, the two of them pushing each other, evolving each other, becoming ever more and Satoru wouldn’t be alone.
But Zen’in Toji had zero cursed energy, so he couldn’t heal himself. And Satoru had only just figured out how to use positive energy to heal himself, but he’d just been stabbed a few times, he hadn’t had a massive hole blown through him, and he’d heard that using positive energy to heal others was far more difficult than using it one oneself, and that was a huge fucking hole and what if Satoru couldn’t—
No. Satoru was the strongest. He was the strongest.
There was absolutely no fucking reason that he shouldn’t be able to do this.
No—the world could not stop him from doing this.
Were there thoughts about the guy apparently having a kid mixed up vaguely somewhere within all that? Yeah, probably, but it was largely irrelevant in comparison to all the rest, except that maybe something about Zen’in Toji’s expression and tone when he said it had hit Satoru in some strange spot that had made the desperation to keep the man with him flare.
But it was mostly just a litany of No, no, you can’t die, you can’t actually fucking die, I will not allow you to die, I will not let the world keep me from dragging you back, I will not let anything stop me, you are not allowed to fucking die on me after touching me that was going through his head as he ripped the worm curse off Zen’in Toji’s body and tossed it away (part of it had been blow off too but it would be fine, but definitely not if it came in contact with the positive energy that Satoru was about to use on Zen’in Toji’s body) and placed his hands on the man’s literally still standing up body (was that the power of his Heavenly Restriction physical enhancements? must be, there was literally no other explanation) and multiplied the two negatives, dragging up every available ounce of cursed energy to create what had to be absolutely godly amounts of positive energy to heal the man’s body.
Did he know that you couldn’t bring back someone from the dead with that? Yeah, of course he did. But he also knew that for a while even after the heart stopped and the brain went dead, if that person could be revived, they could be revived, that they weren’t truly dead directly after dying—that was how he’d brought himself back, after all. And since he’d done it to himself, he already knew how to do it, that had been the hard part, now he just had to fucking amplify it and direct it into someone else rather than at himself, and since he was the strongest there was absolutely no fucking way he couldn’t do that.
His hands were glowing with red light, glowing brighter and brighter as he poured in more energy.
Did he care if anyone saw? No, he did not, because he had obviously put up a curtain before attacking Zen’in Toji, so absolutely no one would see fucking anything.
And as the man’s muscular body was reforming—not his shirt, obviously, so yeah the skin of his chest was and then arm were bare as they grew over the returning bones and flesh—fuck, Gojo Satoru had never felt so fucking much like a god. Even more than earlier, because this—this—to just be able to destroy, but to be able to bring back—that was something only gods could do.
No—not even gods could do that.
Gojo Satoru was the only one.
So Satoru was laughing in abject delight, and there was a thought there all caught up in the blinding glow that he could potentially kill and bring back this man as many times as he wanted, maybe he couldn’t have done so with a normal person or even a normal sorcerer but this man’s body was special, so there was no way that he shouldn’t be able to survive this—
What absolute glee, that Satoru could keep this man with him, because only he would ever be able to kill him, just like this man was the only one who would ever be able to kill him, and if got killed then he could bring himself back, and if he killed Zen’in Toji he could bring him back, and each time they’d both just be stronger, and Satoru knew this man would survive because even before he opened his eyes his recreated heart was already beating against Satoru’s hands, and Satoru was more powerful than any god. So, so much more powerful than any god.
Satoru was still laughing in abject delight, absolute euphoria, as high as the fucking sun, when Zen’in Toji, his expression scrunching up slightly (likely at the sound of Satoru’s laughter) blinked his dark eyes open, took one look at him laughing there with his palms against him, reached up his right hand to bruisingly grip one of Satoru’s wrists and said “Ow that fucking hurts” and then immediately after “Are you fucking deranged.”
“Wait, wait,” Satoru gasped through his laughing, “your left arm isn’t fully healed yet.”
Zen’in Toji glanced over at his left arm, then, watching as exposed bones healed over with muscles and tendons and skin beneath the bright red glow of Satoru’s hands, left one still pressed to Zen’in Toji’s chest and the right one moving down his left arm with the healing of it.
“What the fuck,” Zen’in Toji said.
Satoru was grinning widely, still giggling giddily, and when Zen’in Toji’s hand had healed all the way down to his fingernails Satoru finally let up and pulled away his hands—or well, he pulled his right hand from Zen’in Toji’s left but his own left hand was still caught in the man’s grip, and when, in a wave of bright dizziness, Satoru tilted, the man actually held him up, seemingly reflexively pulling him again him.
Oh, damn. That body was warm. Broad, firm. Without thinking Satoru’s free hand had started wandering wonderingly over the muscles of his abs and then up to the exposed skin of the pectoral that he had just healed, absolutely in wonder, both at the man’s body and also at his own power. He had done this.
He was quickly halted by the man grabbing that wrist, too, and only then did Satoru realize what he’d been doing. Yeah, okay, kinda awkward, but Satoru had a right to admire his work.
“I’m pretty amazing aren’t I?” he smiled.
“You’re a damn monster is what you are,” Zen’in Toji said. He shoved Satoru away from him, and Satoru stumbled slightly but remained upright. He didn’t even care, he was still smiling giddily.
The man’s dark eyes on him were narrowed. He looked down then at his regrown arm, clenched and opened his fist a few times, rotated his arm in a circle from back to front, Satoru’s eyes on the muscles of his shoulder and the way they moved.
Fuck, the man was perfect. Satoru’s work was perfect.
Zen’in Toji seemed to agree (in that he clearly found Satoru’s work satisfactory), as he rolled his shoulder back once, a small and casual, comfortable-looking movement, and then let the arm relax at his side, turning back to Satoru and saying, “Why did you heal me? So that I can be properly tried and executed? Didn’t take you for the type.”
“No, you’re completely forgiven,” Satoru said, and Zen’in Toji raised a brow. “Well, by me,” Satoru amended, “but I have a considerable amount of power, so if I forgive you, everyone else is going to have to. There’s probably another Star Plasma Vessel, so Tengen should be fine, the world will be fine, it’s all fine.” He clasped his hands behind his head and grinned. “You killed me once, but I killed you in return, so we’re even now, yeah? And after you killed me I came back I got stronger, so, now that I’ve killed you and brought you back, you just have to promise me that you’ll get stronger, too.”
What a fucking god complex, Toji had thought, looking at Gojo Satoru’s wild grin.
But Toji had felt it, too. Fighting Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer, feeling his power, the rush as he’d taken him down, stabbing him again and again, tearing that godly figure down from his untouchable place in the heavens—damn, nothing had ever felt better. Nothing had ever gotten him that fucking high. And then shooting the Star Plasma Vessel in the head without that cursed spirit manipulation user noticing him (nobody ever noticed him, except for the Six Eyes), then taking that riff-raff down easily. Getting out as easily as he’d gotten in, then the 3 million plus extra deposited in his bank account—yeah, he’d been high. Gotten full of himself. Taking on Gojo Satoru, just because he thought he could beat him and wanted to. Wanted that rush again. (And to stick it the Zen’ins and the rest of the sorcerer world.)
Is he high? he had wondered, as Gojo Satoru had floated in the air, looking happier than anything.
But of course he was fucking high. Knowing he would take down the Sorcerer Killer. Toji had had the same wild grin when he’d known that he would take down the Six Eyes.
He certainly didn’t expect Gojo Satoru to heal him. Less surprising than the fact that he was capable of something that should’ve been impossible, was the fact that he’d actually bothered to do so. It was surprising at first, that Gojo Satoru wasn’t angry at him, didn’t hate him, but then he realized that he was the same—upon losing to the Six Eyes, he hadn’t felt any anger, no resentment, he was just disappointed in himself. Probably Gojo Satoru had also blamed himself—which he then got over in using reversed curse energy to heal himself, and then hitting him with that Hollow Purple thing. Yeah, Toji bet that felt good.
And then healing him from that hit, which should have been impossible—yeah, Toji couldn’t even blame him for the clear god complex. What a fucking monster. Had he healed him from that just to prove that he could? Rub his superiority in Toji’s face? (Like his the Zen’in’s had always done, degrading him for having no cursed energy.) The touching up his chest—clearly admiring his work, probably further rubbing it in Toji’s face by treating him like an object. But maybe he was somewhat in awe of the Heavenly Restricted body that had managed to beat him.
But even if he’d healed Toji just to prove that he could, and even if he didn’t have any inclination to punish him, what, was he just going to let Toji go? Probably not, but he also didn’t seem like the type to have healed him from death just to make him stand a proper trial and execution, so even as Toji said it he knew it wasn’t that. More likely the Six Eyes just wanted a chance to take him down again.
Which—yeah, he wasn’t really wrong about that. But the way the Six Eyes grinned at him with those unhinged glittery blue eyes and said, “You killed me once, but I killed you in return, so we’re even now, yeah? And after you killed me I came back I got stronger, so, now that I’ve killed you and brought you back, you just have to promise me that you’ll get stronger, too”—huh. So Gojo Satoru didn’t want to just beat him around and prove his superiority, but wanted the Sorcerer Killer to challenge him. Challenge him further.
Which—okay, fair. Toji was undoubtedly the only person to ever touch him in battle. And he nearly killed him, too. That had to have struck the untouchable Gojo with both Limitless and the Six Eyes.
And, well. It really had been a thrill. He’d never enjoyed himself that sheer amount before, either. And that was certainly the look that the Six Eyes had on his face.
Toji had been heavily disappointed himself that he had allowed his pride and the apparently lingering resentment he had for the Zen’in clan and the sorcerer world to drive him to fight the Six Eyes for no pay. That he had let those feelings influence him, feelings he’d thought he’d rid himself of. His decision to live without respecting himself or anyone else.
But this was… something else. The Six Eyes wanting him to get stronger to continue challenging him—believing that he actually could, when no one in the sorcerer world had ever believed him worth acknowledging—Toji stomped down on those feelings. Considered.
Did he believe in his own ability to so? Hell yeah he did. He’d been a bit rusty, thought it came back easily, and he was sure if he could study that Hollow Purple thing a bit he’d be able to find some method to counter it or get around it.
But was it worth doing? Toji wasn’t going to do it for any stupid reason like pride. He refused to feel the need to prove anything at all to Gojo Satoru or the rest of the sorcerer world. But there was still the appeal that it sounded thrilling. But he hated the way that might still be attached to some amount of pride he’d really rather be done away with. But the thrill that had been fighting him, the idea of getting the opportunity to take him down again—fuck, no, it was still a stupid feeling attached to pride. Just a god complex like the Six Eyes, but a worse one, because there was a huge fucking difference between someone who everyone regarded as a god feeling themselves like a god and someone who everyone regarded as worthless thinking themselves like a god.
Toji lost this time because he lost sight of himself. He wasn’t going to do that again.
He exhaled. “What’s in it for me?” he asked the kid. “I’m not interested in extra work without pay. Especially when it’s work that would require that much effort. Which is what I should’ve said when you showed up itching for a fight, and then hightailed it out of here, instead of getting caught up in shit.”
Gojo Satoru laughed like that was truly hilarious. “You think you have a choice?” He leaned forward, glittery blue Six Eyes wide and bright. “If you don’t train to get stronger and fight me willingly, I’ll hunt you down and make you. I won’t give you the choice. You’ll have to fight me.”
He leaned back again, sobering slightly as he regarded Toji. “And y’know, you shouldn’t blame yourself for not hightailing it out of here. You wouldn’t have gotten away from me anyway. You really had no choice but to fight. I actually really appreciated how gung-ho you were about it and how you never thought you would lose. Because for most people like that I’d think they’re stupid, but you’re clearly not—you probably could have dealt with just my Blue and Red. You didn’t know about my Hollow Purple. But that’s not your fault in any way. So your belief that you stood a chance against me, while actually erroneous, was perfectly justifiable, since you actually did beat me, which no one else has ever done, ever. Why wouldn't you be proud of yourself for that? You should be proud of yourself for that!”
Gojo Satoru grinned again, a wicked kind of smile. “Also, I told you that I could make the higher-ups forgive you, but if you don’t cooperate with me I won’t and you’ll have to deal with everyone trying to hunt you down. That’ll be a lot of trouble for you. Much more trouble than just going along with me. And also, I know about your kid now, and I can offer you stuff on that front that you also definitely won’t have if you refuse to cooperate with me. I have lots of carrots I can offer you and lots of sticks I can threaten you with. So really, if you truly want to avoid unnecessary trouble, you’ll go along with me. There are lots of benefits to you!”
“Lay it on thick why don’t you,” Toji drawled. But damn, the Six Eyes really did have points. He really could make Toji’s life quite miserable if he refused to cooperate, and going along with him could really make his life a lot easier.
Toji appreciated all the logical points, rather than having the decision have to do with stupid pride that he either did or did not have. Damn, his having even been thinking about that at all was proof that he truly hadn’t let go of that pride. Tch.
But the way Gojo Satoru laid it out, it was basically just like getting monetary and living benefits from the women who took him while giving them sex in return. This was basically just like that, but with even more monetary and living benefits, and fighting instead of sex (unless Gjo Satoru was also going to want sex, if the way he’d been touching his chest was an indication of interest in anything other than his handiwork. But well, even if he wanted sex on top of the fighting, Toji could work with that).
The Six Eyes hadn’t mentioned, among his reasons, that he had saved Toji’s life so Toji owed him, which Toji appreciated, because that would not have gone over well, since he had no reason to be grateful to the Six Eyes for saving his life when he’d been the one to kill him in the first place and had also clearly only revived him for selfish reasons. So the fact that he didn’t even try to use that as a reason had Toji somewhat more warmed to him than he could remember feeling towards anyone in the sorcerer world, ever.
What a turn of events. Toji found his lips curling up into a smirk, tugging at his scar. “You do realize that everyone’s gonna hate this, right? The Zen’ins and Gojos especially, but I’m sure all the higher-ups will dislike it.”
Gojo Satoru’s grin widened and his glittery blue eyes gleamed. “I forgot to mention that that’s also one of the benefits of going along with it.” He looked positively diabolical. “Wouldn’t it be great to turn the entire sorcerer world upside-down by bringing the guy with zero cursed energy up to the level of the Six Eyes? And the Gojo heir and Zen’in reject teaming up? So many generations of sorcerer’s will be rolling in their graves!”
Toji couldn’t help but chuckle, looking at Gojo Satoru assessingly, with even more kindled interest. “You really don’t even care that I shot the girl?”
Gojo Satoru shrugged. “I’ll definitely be going to get her body back, but the weak will die, that’s just the way that it is. Can’t save everyone. You know,” his glittery blue eyes were wide and bright on Toji, expression utterly void of compassion, “I don’t particularly like protecting the weak. And most people are weak. Well, compared to me, everyone is weak—except maybe for you.”
That had Toji raising his eyebrows slightly. Huh.
“And you know,” the Six Eyes continued, turning half away, looking up, hands coming up from where they’d dropped to his sides to interlace behind his head again, “it’s not actually that fun being the only one who’s strong.”
Kid’s bitter and lonely. Can’t say that I blame him. What I went through as the Zen’in’s disgrace certainly sucked, but being relied on by everyone to be the strongest can’t be that much fun either.
Gojo Satoru turned his back to smile at him. “So I’m going to have you make me into a god. And in return, I’m going to make you into a god killer. You better not let me down, ‘kay?”
His cursed spirit had crawled back over to his feet, mewling, and Toji crouched down to pick it up, letting itself wrap itself gratefully around him. It was still bleeding, not yet healed with cursed energy, and he didn’t particularly want to swallow it when it was like that.
“Even if I do, you’ll just drag me back from hell to try again, won’t you?” Toji said, nodding at his rejuvenated arm. He shrugged gently. “It’s fine. I know jack shit about that Hollow Purple thing you got, but I’ll figure it out and how to counter it eventually.”
Gojo Satoru’s glittery blue eyes gleamed as he leaned in. “You really don’t mind if I kill you and then bring you back again?”
“As long as you don’t mind if I kill you and you have to bring yourself back again,” Toji said, and the Six Eyes threw his head back and laughed.
“It’s a deal, then!” Sobering and tilting his head, he then looked at Toji curiously and said, “So, what do you want to do about your son?”