Work Text:
— — —
Investigation Report
September 28, 2007
Subject of Investigation: Geto Suguru; formerly a 3rd year at Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College
Place and Time of Occurrence: ■■ Village; September 23, 2007; 9:00 PM
Damage: 112 confirmed villager deaths; 70% of the village burnt down, suspected arson.
Motives: Unknown. Geto Suguru had no relations or contact to anyone in ■■ Village prior to the mission.
Evidence: Residuals of Geto Suguru’s Curse Manipulation technique were found on the site of investigation.
Summary: Geto Suguru was sent to exorcise a Grade 1 curse in ■■ Village. All villagers were found dead; a massacre. Cause of death is determined to be from a cursed spirit. Geto Suguru’s residuals concludes his involvement. His current status is set to: Curse User. Communication rules between sorcerer and supervisor will be established to be stricter into the following future.
In accordance with Article 9 of Jujutsu Regulations, Geto Suguru is subject to execution as a Curse User.
— — —
Suguru is gone. He isn’t.
Satoru knows.
He can’t be gone. There’s no way Suguru would just leave abruptly like that. Suguru wouldn’t leave him. He can’t. He wouldn’t. But the report—fuck the report. It’s Suguru. His best friend. Satoru knows what he’d do. Suguru is his moral compass. He has to be. He’s the righteous one between the two of them. There’s no way. There’s no way he got lost in the route of virtue. He can’t take the wrong path; he’s the compass. Unless it was on purpose. To take a left instead of the right. To leave him alone.
“–atoru! Satoru!”
It’s Yaga. He knows it’s Yaga. Their cursed energy isn’t even remotely similar. Suguru’s is sweet even though he consumes grotesque curses for his technique. Yaga’s is—well, the scent of yarn and laundry detergent. His Six Eyes is telling him the man in front of him is Yaga. Yet, he can’t help but pretend it’s Suguru, clinging to the last bit of hope.
He opens his eyes; the investigation report staring back at him. It’s a staring contest he can never win. The words, massacre and execution are burned into his eyes. He can’t unsee them. But he can believe. The first step of denial is to gaslight yourself first. He isn’t in denial. He is. He isn’t.
Fuck. His eyes are burning. He’s Gojo Satoru. Gojo Satoru; not some stupid crybaby with tears cascading down his diamond sapphire eyes. Golden flecks of light reflect into his eyes. He wipes away the water—not tears, with his hand. The water blurs his vision, but he can see so clearly at the same time.
“If your eyes are diamonds, then mine are coal. They’re both made of carbon. Similar, but infinitely different.”
He understands what Suguru was implying now. Coal is inherently abundant, but it burns. Diamonds are almost indestructible.
“Pfft! Shoko, you can’t touch mee~”
“And Suguru can?”
“Well duh! It’s Suguru. Oh! Hmm, what’s this? ‘Answer Key for Physiology’ ew. Bor-ring! And this is revenge for throwing your answers at me!”
“Satoru. You can’t throw paper airplanes at Shoko—without me.”
“Suguruuuuu!!! You’re here! Shoko tried throwing her papers at me!!”
“Get a room, you two.”
Diamonds are one in a million—one in 400 years; more expensive, rare, and sought after.
“Gojo Satoru. The newborn; honored bearer of the Six Eyes. He will bring the Gojo clan power greater than our rivals.”
“Bloop.”
“What the fuck. The baby talks.”
“Hehe! Fuck!!”
Coal is more valuable; few things can function without it.
“Suguruuu!! How do you solve this problem?
“Sugururururururuu!! Spar with me!”
“Suguuu!!! Let’s break some laws!! GET ON THE BIKE.”
“What do you mean Suguru is sick? Tell me all the details. Now. Who got him sick? I’m just going to have a pleasant talk with them.”
Diamonds are crystal clear, transparent except for a few specks of light. Coal is as opaque as it gets; unable to see its true intentions until it ignites.
The video starts zoomed into a close up shot of two people holding hands.
The camera pans to Satoru. He’s skipping, wearing a maniacal grin.
The camera then switches to Suguru. He’s speed walking, seemingly unphased by Satoru’s antics.
The camera zooms into Suguru’s ear. It’s a few hex codes redder than usual. A mumble of “Caught in 4K” is heard in the background.
The video abruptly ends when Suguru calls out, “SHOKO!!”
Diamonds are pure, coal carries impurities.
“So, bangs. Where are you from? I never heard of a prodigy from a non-sorcerer background before.”
“It’s Geto Suguru.”
“Same thing.”
“Whatever you say, ocean eyes.”
Coal can never be diamond as much as it tries.
“Pshh, Suguru, this mission’s going to be easy! We just need to babysit a kid until Tengen gets her. We’re the strongest! It’ll be a piece of cake. And talking about cake…”
…
“Who’s Gojo Satoru?”
“He’s the strongest.”
Diamonds always overshadow coal; coal is just fodder that’ll burn to fuel the growth of diamonds.
He can’t be gone.
Coal’s true value seems to be recognized once it’s gone and used up, yet it depletes just as quickly once realized.
..right?
Breathe in.
He doesn’t want to be a diamond anymore. He hates the implications, the analogy. To him, being alone and lonely are the same. He will be independent. But being clingy is all he knows.
Breathe out.
A hand is placed onto his shoulder. He flinches. That shouldn’t be possible. He has Infinity on all the time—oh. He was thinking of Suguru, pretending Yaga was him. He let him in. The hand was removed from his shoulder as fast as it came; slow.
“Why?” Satoru asks. Why did Suguru, the person he knows, knew the most, kill those innocent villagers? Were they even innocent at all? But most importantly, why didn’t he notice? Why didn’t he do anything about it? He saw the eyebags, he knew he was eating less, he knew. He knew it all. But he was too busy with his missions. He’s too busy, he’s unable to, he’s just a teenager—they’re all excuses. He could’ve done something if he tried hard enough. He didn’t try hard enough. He didn’t try at all.
“I don’t know. There weren't any motives listed on the report.” Yaga answers. He’s half looking at the paper in Satoru’s hand; the other half continuously maintaining eye contact with him. The reassurance Satoru was seeking shattered. He wants answers. He needs answers.
“I know! I read the report!” Satoru scoffs. He crumples the paper and chucks it onto the floor. He hates everything that brought them to this point. He’s normally one to afflict his feelings outwards, but this time it’s towards himself. It’s his fault for not noticing sooner.
“Satoru. You do know you’re the one who’s executing him, right? I know you two were really close, but this is an order from the higher ups. According to them, you’re the only other special grade sorcerer that’s able to execute him.” Yaga’s reminder fuels his hatred towards the higher ups. They want him to kill his own best friend.
“What. They want me to kill Suguru?” Satoru stares at Yaga in disbelief. It’s rhetorical. He knows it’s true but deep down, he’s in denial. There’s no way he’s killing his best friend. Even a sane person wouldn’t kill someone even if the one they’re killing is a murderer.
He’s not sane but he has morals. Morals that don’t waver no matter the circumstance. The elders—the rules are testing him. He never outwardly liked them, giving excessive amounts of missions to him, treating him like a disposable tool, and now this. Inwardly, he hates them. Wished they were dead. It’d be easy; he wouldn’t even need to use Purple. He could. It’s an option—but it wouldn’t do anything. They’d just be replaced with others.
-
The water running down his face is an unpaid actor in his grief. It hits him. It really hits him. Suguru is gone. He could travel every square foot of this Earth; use his Six Eyes to find his cursed energy; use it to find him. He could. But it doesn’t guarantee Suguru will come back. Satoru can’t change him. Can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. What’s the use of being the strongest if he can’t even save the person he loves?
It’s all in the past. A recent past. But Satoru lives in it like it’s the present.
He’s drowning. When did he suddenly get so short—or did Yaga get tall? Oh. He’s on the floor, his hands shaking. His heart feels like it’s going to burst. It’s beating too fast. He can’t breathe. His lungs will collapse. There’s too much adrenaline coursing through his veins.
He knows he isn’t dying. He can’t. But his body isn’t listening.
He even didn’t cry when Haibara died; and Suguru isn’t even dead.
He’s not used to this—feeling weak. Satoru has always been the strongest. He always had Suguru with him, maybe it’s only three years, but it felt so real; like he always has been with him. It feels cold without him. His only constant was gone.
Was being the strongest a curse?
It’s an unanswerable question. He was never one to get philosophical; that was more Suguru, even if the answers have been twisted enough to be unrecognizable. He closes his eyes. He won’t have to deal with his burdens this way. Though a childish thought, perhaps it does work.
He feels his Six Eyes sense Shoko approaching, yet he was too tired to listen to their conversation. It’s all a blur as he drifts into unconsciousness, a sweet sleep carrying him from his exhaustion.