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Chapter Text

Shoko

August 7th, 2006

“Hey, pass it over here!” The tall, lanky white haired teenager shouts, waving his arms at Shoko. He starts running backwards towards the goal, eyes on the ball.

It is late summer of 2006, the second year at Jujutsu High School for Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. They are in a heated match of soccer, playing with the two new first years, Haibara and Nanami. Utahime, a year older than the first group, is competing against the other students with Shoko and Satoru.

The opposite team had just landed their first goal, making the score 7-1. They are down to the final minutes of the game. Even though the winner was clear, Suguru is still playing as if he could somehow beat his best friend’s team.

Shoko has swiftly snuck in front of the blonde first year stealing the ball. Eyes glued to it, she tosses it between her feet. The taps and rustle of the grass are accompanying her rapid breaths as she jogs down the field. The ball is covered in mud and rather worn down from hours of matches between the students, though this is the first one with all seven of them. It’s her favorite sport they play, but it takes a bit of convincing to get the others to agree. 

Out of her peripherals, she can see her second year opponent trying to snatch the prize back. Smirking, she fakes a kick to the left, causing him to lose sight of the ball. Once she has shifted her weight to her left foot, she punts the ball to her teammate who had requested it. Laughing as her feet go around her other peer’s, she watches as Suguru locks his jaw, frustrated that the ball was flying to his biggest contender.

The ball travels to Satoru, causing Suguru to switch positions from guarding Shoko to him. The white-haired teenager catches the ball with his knee, bumping it back to the grass before running towards the goalie. A sharp kick sends the ball halfway to the goal. Nanami is right on Suguru’s heels, open if he gets the chance to steal the ball.

He doesn’t.

Haibara was an unfortunate choice for goalie. Shoko was a bit surprised when Suguru opted to put him there, but since she was on the opposing team, she didn’t mention it. Haibara is the youngest at the high school, just starting Jujutsu High that year. None of his family are curse users, but his younger sister can see cursed spirits. Shoko had been told that he banned her from joining jujutsu society. A proper big brother, she thinks.

His only year partner was Nanami, a sorcerer from Tokyo. His father was a successful sorcerer who trained him, resulting in him being very technically and physically strong. He constantly wore an expression lacking amusement. At first, Shoko thought it was from Satoru, but he seemed miserable no matter what the occasion. 

Haibara’s effervescent attitude is the perfect way to balance the tides for him. Even Nanami seems to recognize that.

Satoru is running with the ball straight towards Haibara, smoothly knocking it between his feet. His tongue is sticking out as he focuses on the game at play. His casual, confident aura follows him around not unlike the way a ghost haunts its place of death, never lingering too far. He often complains about how ‘hobbies are boring because I’m good at everything’, but when he’s in a competition, that mindset seems to dissipate. What a coincidence.

Suguru was trailing closely behind, but Satoru’s body was blocking him from taking what he was after. The two are almost always in a competition, although Suguru is aware of the low probability of winning in most anything against Satoru, for some reason, he still makes attempts. 

Lighthearted laughter flies through the air as the taller teenager dances around his friend. Shoko pulls up to a stop, watching as the two head towards the goal. Although the two sorcerers came from such different backgrounds and have very opposite personalities, they quickly became inseparable over the last year. The two gravitated towards each other like a magnet to metal. Once they got within a certain proximity, it was near impossible to pull them apart.

Two years ago, Shoko knew upon enrolling at Jujutsu High she’d quickly find the ones she needed to provide balance for. Growing up, she was always the mediator, not because she’s calm, but for her nonchalant attitude that pries people’s issues open like a pomegranate. Once the seeds are exposed, people tend to realize their faults. It’s part of what comes naturally to her.

However in another light, she was aware that the ugliest days were to come. Perhaps she would always be saying that because when you work with death, there isn’t anywhere else to go. In jujutsu society, it was an ongoing battle of life and death. The latter would always prevail.

Still, she looks forward to helping people. It was her duty as a sorcerer, even if she was behind the scenes.

Now, she finds herself balancing her two peers, being the grey to their black and white. She’s proud of her performance over the past two years. Neither of them seem to notice how much she keeps them on this plane, but sometimes that’s how it works. Ships don’t recognize that they’re anchored, they just know to stay in one spot.

The person who does see her work, though, is Utahime. 

When Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru first enrolled at Jujutsu High, she had been told that Utahime’s first year was pretty quiet. She was alone in the dorms aside from the occasional drop in visit from MeiMei. When Shoko arrived at the high school, the last thing she expected was to find someone who made her feel like a film had been peeled from her eyes. She couldn’t believe that life had previously been so dull.

Her fiery attitude keeps Shoko on her toes, but that’s exactly the balance that she needs. Their personalities blended and took hold in each other’s arms like a plant's roots take to soil. It’s not that they couldn’t exist apart, but they really didn’t want to.

At first, she told herself it was because they are the only two girls in the school so of course they would enjoy each other’s company. However, when she sat with the feelings a little longer, rolling them around in her palms, inspecting every dent and imperfection, she realized that it wasn’t that she wanted to be just friends with her.

She’s just got to figure out how to address her feelings.

The blonde first year is breathing heavily at her side, looking at the pair that are fighting for the prize. The two teenagers are bumping into each other as much as was in rules for the game, hardly avoiding using their hands.

“You want to take a break while they sort this out?” Nanami asks, voice flat.

“Yeah, but I want to watch Haibara try to catch the ball,” she responds, voice sweet like honey. A faint grin pulled on her lips. “I’ll meet you guys over there in a minute.”

Not only is Haibara a first year student who doesn’t have experience with Satoru, he is also quite a bit shorter than his current opponent. The white haired teenager knows this, smirking as he kicks the ball, watching it fly clean into the corner of the net. 

Haibara jumps to block the ball but as expected, misses, laughing as he retrieves the ball. “Nice shot, Satoru!”

“He doesn’t need his ego boosted!” Utahime shouts from the opposite goal across the field.

Suguru groans as Satoru gives him a wide bright smile. His dark hair is swept into a low bun, bangs caressing his sharp face. The exercise hardly bothered him as his voice was steady when he coos at his rival. “Satoru, we need to put you on your own team. You’ve won every game.”

“I could handle all of you by myself. You’re just going to have to learn to keep up.”

He pulls the dark haired teen in for a half hug, showering him with sweat. Disgusted, Suguru tries to push him off, but Satoru won’t let him go. His smile is bright and proud, shining as much as the sweat on his face. The uniform he wears is somehow covered in grass stains even though Shoko can’t remember seeing him fall. Surrendering, Suguru smiles back, commenting that Satoru needed to let him win at least once. Just once. For his ego.

Utahime meets Shoko and Nanami at the bench, water in one hand and a towel in the other. She sits in a soccer uniform with her long black hair pulled back in a pony tail, tied up with a red bow. Her cheeks are slightly rosy from the recent exercise. The sun highlighted her thick eyelashes that hid the forests of her dark chestnut eyes.

“Hey, thanks.”

“Anything for my teammate,” Utahime’s tone is sweet. She leans forward putting her weight on the balls of her feet. “I’m just happy to be on the winning team.”

“Well as long as we have Satoru, we’ll win. There’s not much he doesn’t excel at.”

Utahime rolls her eyes. Annoyance drips from her voice like a muffler complaining in the heat. “I truly can’t stand him but if he’s what it takes to win, I’ll stand behind him.”

Coming from the Gojo clan and being blessed with six eyes and infinity, he is untouchable in every sense. He is also from the richest family in Japan, which matched with his personality. Arrogant, loud, boisterous, but charming in a ‘typical’ way. 

Along with Suguru, Utahime is very competitive, but she prefers to be on Satoru’s team if the option is provided. So, instead of challenging him directly, she has figured out a way to convince Suguru to invite Satoru to compete in a game. Shoko finds her maniacal habits endearing in the best way. 

A soft breeze blows through the field. Shoko smiles, opening her arms as if the wind were coming to give her a hug.

“This was so needed,” she sighs.

Haibara, Satoru, and Suguru join the group at the benches. Beads of sweat are lining Satoru’s forehead, causing his sunglasses to slide down his face. After adjusting them, he pulls the water bottle out of Suguru’s hands and starts chugging from it. Suguru gave him a face that read ‘what the fuck?’

The sound of a sharp whistle causes the students to look up simultaneously. Their teacher suddenly appears at the top of the bleachers.

“All right you six,” their teacher booms. “Utahime is being sent on a mission with Mei. The rest of you are heading to Tokyo for a separate assignment. You’ll all leave tomorrow. Questions?”

Mutters of ‘no’s and shakes of heads appeared through the crowd. Yaga tells them they are dismissed and disappears.

Satoru carries the ball, tossing it to Suguru. “You making dinner tonight?”

Suguru throws a glance at the group, checking to see if anyone else was going to respond. The ball spins in his hands while he debates. Out of the group, Suguru is the best cook. For some reason, cooking is one of the few things that Satoru is comically terrible at. If she’s being honest, Shoko thinks that Nanami is probably the second best cook. He’s been too quiet whenever the conversation is brought up. She makes a mental note to investigate this more late.

Silence spreads through the field aside from the soft rustle of grass from the wind that was pushing past. Shoko looks at the grass, foot dragging across a particularly intriguing blade. Nanami avoids eye contact with Suguru.

Suguru sighs, knowing his fate has been sealed. He normally caves like a parent who is being begged by their child to allow them to eat ice cream for dinner. “Yeah, looks like it.”

Haibara cheers. “Your food is always so delicious!”

Suguru laughs, tilting his head down. His bangs fall into his slightly red face. The ball that was once spinning in his hands stops. “Thanks, Haibara.”

--------

Suguru

August 8th, 2006 

All five of the young sorcerers pile into a car with Yaga, heading to the cemetery for their task. Utahime and Mei-san left a little earlier in the day with one of the only secretary workers, meaning Yaga had to drive the students. Their teacher had stopped Suguru prior and gave him a brief rundown of the mission. Before they departed, he passed the responsibility to explain it to the rest of the group on the way.

The low hum of the vehicle accompanies Suguru’s voice as he informs his peers about the mission. In his lap is a folder with documents and photos regarding the case.

“A few days ago a group of teenage tourists went to Aoyama Cemetery for a night stroll, hoping to disturb some paranormal spirits. This cemetery in particular is known for being home to the spirit of a young girl who accepts a taxi ride and suddenly vanishes before the end of the trip. All three of the foreigners went missing and none have been found. It appears that their families last heard from them on Saturday, presumably the night that they disappeared.”

“Sounds like a bunch of idiots to me,” Satoru mutters. His chin is resting in his hand as he looks out the window, completely disinterested in the topic at hand. The gloomy sky reflects his attitude well.

“Satoru,” Suguru chastises. “They’re just kids.”

Yaga speaks up from the front seat. “Your goal is to find and recover them. We suspect a grade two cursed spirit is behind this. Suguru and Satoru, you’re going to lead, but have Yu and Kento follow close behind. Ieiri and I will be in the area waiting in case she’s needed.”

From the back of the vehicle, Haibara eagerly chirps, “Can’t wait!”

The cemetery is quiet as Yaga draws a veil, covering the gloomy skies and trapping the sorcerers inside it. Suguru and Satoru set to work immediately, while Haibara and Nanami trail closely behind.

The veil that shrouds the graveyard prompted the environment to be dark and uncomfortable. Suguru and Satoru lead the group as they toss glances over their shoulders with every step, waiting for a curse to appear.

Suguru stops in his tracks as a tall woman materializes in front of him. They would be able to make eye contact if her long dark hair had not been draped in front of her face. A faint whispering occurs, causing Suguru’s ears to perk at the sound. He takes a step backwards, muttering for Satoru to pay attention, but he feels strangely isolated. Reluctantly, he looks over his shoulder, searching for white hair or a cocky smile. To his dismay, he realizes that he is alone with the woman.

She tilts her face up enough to allow the curtain of hair to open. Her pale skin sharply contrasts her dark hair and eyes, strengthening her already eerie aura. A plain mask white that moves ever so slightly when she speaks covers her mouth.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” 

The words are finally audible to Suguru, cracking through her voice like a cacophony. His stomach drops as he realizes what is staring at him, waiting to unleash her rage.

Forcing a smirk to arise from his lips, he studies the woman who is a volcano waiting to erupt. He hopes she can hold on a little longer so he can decide how to proceed. The flame of patience is still lit, but the scissors in her left hand are shaking as it starts to dwindle.

Suguru summons his strongest curse, deciding that the moment isn’t going to last long enough for him to make a more thought out plan. The rainbow dragon races towards the woman as she tilts her head, lifting the scissors in her trembling hand.

Heart racing, the sorcerer stands five feet from her in a defensive stance, prepared for hand to hand combat.

The curse has other ideas.

Even from a distance, she manages to cut Suguru’s skin underneath his right ear. Blood pools onto his uniform from the burning wound. The burn starts to spread to his jaw, where more of his skin has been sliced. 

 She is snatched in the rainbow dragon’s jaws but still puts up a fight. Her scissors slam into its skin, threatening to pierce the curse, but they are too weak. The scream she lets out is enough to deafen Suguru’s good ear, the ringing from the pain is currently coming in waves through his partially damaged ear. 

Even through her struggles, the dragon wins. Its jaws are wrapped around her as if she was nothing but a cub surrendering to its mother.  

“Don’t swallow it,” Suguru’s pained voice slices through the piercing yell of the woman. “I need to absorb the curse.”

The dragon brings the curse to Suguru’s feet. He exorcises and absorbs it, satisfied with his work. The dragon is released, vanishing into nothingness. Suguru gives a slight nod to it, silently communicating a thank you.

Suguru calmly scans the area, expecting the others to be nearby, yet after releasing the dragon, he is alone again in the middle of the cemetery. The yellow leaves in the trees rustle, teasing him. He swears they’re teasing him, chanting you’re not done yet.

He can’t quite figure out why. Had she used a domain? Even if she had, it should have shattered with her submission to his dragon.

His footsteps are quiet and cautious on the concrete bridge of the graveyard. He is in the same place that Yaga sensei had brought them to, but he is still solo. A breeze rustles through the trees sending a shiver down his spine. Another curse must be here. Why is it singling him out?

Pressing a gentle hand to his sliced skin, he seethed. Lucky for him, the spirit only made it halfway, but that was halfway closer to losing an ear entirely. He pushed finding Shoko to the top of the list, but finding Satoru was right underneath.

About fifteen minutes of wandering the cemetery passed and no avail came. Suguru had his hand pressed against his skull, hoping that the bleeding would stop soon. Panic was starting to rise as he thought about what Satoru and the other sorcerers were up against. It seemed that Shoko and Yaga were in their dimension though, and the thought provided him with some comfort. At least they would be safe.

After sorting out that this isn’t a domain, Suguru realizes that this was likely a fault of the curse that the other students were fighting. It wants to isolate him so it could have Satoru and the rest for itself. 

Fighting alone again feels like a displaced experience for Suguru. Even though it’s only been a year of working side by side with Satoru, the duo has become dependable on each other. Of course they know they can do anything alone, but together? They’re completely unstoppable.

He despises the idea of Satoru fighting alone. Suguru is aware that he’s strong enough to handle the curse on his own, but there’s a mutual hole that attaches itself to each of them when they’re apart. He needs to find a way out of this dimension.

His footsteps stop once again. With a flick of the wrist, he summons his elastic band curse, spinning on the ball of his foot. The curse slams into the ground in front of him, separating him from the new rival. 

Preparing for combat, Suguru plants his feet, moving his body to a squat. His view is blocked by the spirit he threw, but he doesn’t let the safety fault him. Another fight was on the horizon waiting to leave him with worse wounds than he already had.

“Suguru, where are you?”

A wave of relief initially washes over him as he hears his name called from behind the spirit, quickly followed by a tang of anxiety.

Satoru?

The words replay in his mind in hues of blue and white. He can’t yet see who called his name, but the sound of the voice resonated deep within his bones.

No doubt that is actually Satoru.

Shaking his head like a dog letting go of stress, he releases the spirit. Although they’ve only spent a year together, Satoru’s voice is unmistakable. Like the first time they met, his stress melts away underneath the heat of Satoru’s presence. It knows that he is being called home.

“Found him!” his fellow sorcerer calls, slowly jogging up to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Suguru gives him a gentle smile, absentmindedly touching his wounds. Wincing, he asks where Shoko is.

“What happened?” Satoru’s blue eyes gaze down at Suguru through his opaque glasses. He pulls Suguru’s hand from the tender area to inspect it.

“Ehhh, that’s got to be painful. You get an upgrade?”

“I suppose so. Did you guys find the teenagers?”

“Not yet. I split from Nanami and Haibara when I noticed you were gone. They’re searching for them. I stumbled upon a grade three that I took out right before you appeared.”

“Thanks. Do you think the first years are okay?”

“They can’t be that weak–”

Shouts from the two first years interrupt Satoru’s speech. Glancing behind the white haired teen, Suguru catches a glimpse of Haibara being flung by an enormous curse.

Instantly, Suguru summons his manta ray spirit, sending it to catch Haibara before he crashes. At the same time, Suguru and Satoru’s footsteps echo through the empty cemetery as they take off towards the attacker that now Nanami is alone with.

“Little help here!” The first year’s voice is hostile as he yells at the two second year sorcerers. The cyclops spirit that once clutched Haibara now has Nanami pinched at the waist and like a baseball player, is reeling up to pitch him across the graveyard.

Without communicating verbally, the two split to help their undergrads. Satoru launches himself at the curse while Suguru runs to attend to Haibara. The manta ray caught him smoothly, and is now waiting to be released from this plane of existence. They understand each other in a way that the others tilt their heads at. For some reason, the two don’t have to verbalize their plans, they just move off of instinct, as if they have been waiting their entire lives to work together.

After checking vitals, Suguru lifts the first year student, heading for the spot he last saw Shoko and Yaga waiting. 

Satoru and Nanami catch up with the other two shortly after. Nanami proclaims that he discovered the three teenagers when he stumbled upon the curse. He couldn’t get information out of any of them, as they were completely terrified of the whole situation. The teenagers were as white as the ghosts they were hoping to find upon their arrival at the site. 

Suguru had placed Haibara on a bench and is now watching Shoko work on mending his wounds. Relief washes over him as he sees that his friends are finally safe. Along with this feeling, his body calms and reminds him of the pain. With every wave of burn, he thinks how lucky he is to still have his ear.

“Satoru, Suguru,” Yaga’s voice erupts from the steps of the funeral home they met at. “Why did you leave your first years to fend for themselves?”

Suguru briefly describes the dimension he was transported to, providing a proper explanation for the events as well as about the new spirit he had recently consumed. He also makes sure to point out Satoru’s well thought out plan in regards to finding Suguru.

Yaga doesn’t give in to what either of the students were saying. Instead, he provides punishment as he sees fit.

After Haibara gained consciousness, which wasn’t more than ten minutes later thanks to Shoko’s rapidly improving techniques, Yaga pulled all the students together to debrief the mission.

“This was a grade two and two grade three curses. When we originally investigated the case, it appears that the grade two curse, the Imaginary Vengeful Cursed Spirit Kuchisake-Onna Curse, was hiding in the dimension that Suguru was trapped in. My assumption is that these three curses were working together for mutual benefit. The second grade curse kept Suguru from eliminating either of the grade threes because it knew he could easily do so. Thank you all for working together to achieve the goal. Shoko, you’re improving. Keep it up, all of you.”

Suguru shyly beams at the implied compliment from his teacher. Praise from Yaga was hard to come by, so he gratefully soaks every word in.

Satoru punches his shoulder, “Don’t get cocky.” Bright crystal eyes, looking like orbs in the sky, meet his. “But, good job.”

Suguru’s cheeks blush ever so slightly. He turns his head away to avoid making eye contact with his friend, knowing he’d get called out for the pink on his face.

The compliment from Satoru means more than the words from Yaga even though to anyone else, it probably would be the opposite. Satoru’s strength means as much as a twig to a bear who’s walked through the forest hundreds of times. It’s remarkable, yes, and he should be praised for his work, but to Suguru, it’s Satoru’s heart that he cherishes.

Most people don't seem to notice the way Satoru conceals his vulnerable side with a harsh personality, acting as if they should be able to take care of themselves, but he will protect them every time. He won’t accept anything less than perfection from his peers but he shows up. He accepts his responsibilities, most of the time without complaint and all the time without hesitation.

Satoru doesn’t blanket what he means with soft  words of cotton or silk. The teenager is very honest and blunt, but Suguru’s eyes are trained well enough to uncover his comments.

The world melts away for a minute as if Suguru was back in the alternate dimension but this time, it is just him and Satoru. No curses are around to penetrate their moment together. The oceans of the blue eyes staring at him pull him into its reefs, keeping him under its control. Suguru willingly accepted his fate. If there wasn’t a shore anywhere nearby, he wouldn’t complain. He’d surrender to it.

“Thank you, Satoru.”

“Don’t make a scene! No one else will receive that kind of treatment from me.”

Suguru quietly chuckles. “Don’t worry, Satoru. I won’t tell.”

-----

August 11th, 2006

Friday arrived quickly, which Suguru is very grateful for. The week slowly crawled by after their group mission on Tuesday. The days between were spent in class and training, and most of the evenings were spent resting. 

Last night, Suguru’s mom called to check in. She was eager to hear about his second year in Jujutsu High. They spoke on the phone for a couple of hours until Satoru pounded on the door, begging for him to prepare dinner because Shoko was going to attempt it and he was scared she’d set the building on fire. Other than the occasional dramatization from Satoru, things had been going very well for Suguru.

Childhood for Suguru was fine. His family lived in a small town, both his parents worked common jobs and he didn’t have any siblings. Nothing of note occurred, which was his biggest complaint. He was treated well and had decent friends, most of which came and went, but nothing seemed to stick for him. Family was the only important part of his life that he knew he wanted to keep around. Otherwise, Suguru hadn’t found a passion that set his soul on fire.

Suguru was a quiet child though, so he supposes that could have been why his life back then had been so boring. Even when he started noticing curses, he kept it to himself. What was a child with an overactive imagination supposed to do? Go around and tell his parents that he was seeing monsters around town? No, Suguru kept to himself. He feared rumors about him being scary would add to the chatter going around the village about him being too quiet. That’s not really what the quiet kid needs. So, he wandered as if he couldn’t see the abnormal entities floating around the small cemetery in his village, nor the spirit that seemed to attach itself to the local bakery owner. As a child he’d tell himself that it was just his imagination running wild in the way that a mother would comfort her child about the monsters underneath their bed.

Suguru truly appreciates his mom’s support, especially since he had decided to join jujutsu society without her immediate approval. Not from lack of confidence in him, but from motherly concern. He promised her that he would be okay and to keep in touch at least once a week, but this year has brought more obstacles than he anticipated and Suguru needs more alone time than he expected to. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to explain that to his mom, but the guilt still simmers.

Shortly after getting scouted for Jujutsu High and convincing his parents to agree, Suguru enrolled. His second year was demonstrating extreme improvements, causing his confidence to skyrocket. Not only because he now knew that seeing curses was not a “weird kid problem”, but because he found a reason behind all of it. Protecting the weak is important to him. He was given the gift of being able to see curses, physically be able to fight them, and be mentally strong enough to do so. The path he’s been searching for finally appeared and next to it, was Satoru, Shoko, Utahime, Nanami, and Haibara.

The puzzle pieces clicked together. This is where he was meant to be.

The white haired teenager sits at a desk to his left. He is hunched over physics homework, eyes squinting through dark sunglasses as he scribbles on the paper. Suguru feels bad for the paper that Satoru is aggressively writing, erasing, and writing again on. Thankfully, his best friend doesn’t notice Suguru staring at him for a minute too long. He blushes a bit before putting his focus back onto the work in front of him.

Suguru has never struggled with schoolwork; it comes very naturally to him. Satoru, however, surprisingly needs a bit of tutoring. If he just applied himself a little more to the school aspect rather than only thinking about training and video games, maybe he would have better luck. Intellect didn’t skip any of the three, but certainly not Satoru. He just needs to work a little harder on it.

Behind him, Shoko sits twiddling a pencil between her fingers. She is working on homework as well, but for a different class. The pencil falls from her grasp, hitting the floor with a light tap. She dramatically throws her head back and groans before reaching to pick it up.

“Can we just call it a day already?”

“Now you’re talking. If all three of us sneak out, Yaga can’t stop us, even if he catches us, right?”

Suguru shakes his head, stuck between the two as per usual. He glances between the two on either side of him, weighing his options. If they both bolt, he could probably catch them. A little damage to the classroom might occur but that was part of the task of keeping them in check that he was willing to risk. Yaga Sensei would probably understand.

“Yaga Sensei told us to study until 3. It’s 2:45, you both can handle fifteen more minutes.”

A chorus of frustration gathers in the room as his two fellow second year sorcerers complained about the slow drag of time. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head.

As soon as three o’clock arrives, Satoru is on his feet, bag packed, ready to leave the classroom for the day. Shoko sits at her desk tying her shoes while the boys wait in the doorway, quietly chatting about their evening plans. Satoru wants to play Digimon but he also wants to see Suguru. He is in the middle of begging Suguru to hang out in his room while he plays the video game when Shoko chimes in.

“Hey, haven’t Utahime and Mei-san been gone for a couple of days? I am pretty sure they left on Tuesday for their mission.

Satoru sucks his teeth before saying, “Yeah, but I guess Utahime’s pretty weak so it doesn’t surprise me.”

Shoko shoots a glare at him that could have set him on fire if he was even slightly more flammable.

“Don’t be like that Satoru,” Suguru corrects with a tender voice. “You’re going to create more enemies than friends.” 

“Tch,” Satoru rolls his eyes. “Truth hurts, I guess.”

“So, we going to save them?” 

Chapter Text

Shoko

August 12th, 2006

August is slowly dwindling by. The summer heat still lingers in the air, brought in by this month like a proud cat bringing a mouse to its owner. A short break is approaching soon, causing the students to become restless. But Saturday is enough to settle for until the vacation arrives, so they are accepting what they have been offered for some time off. All six of the high schoolers are itching to head out on the train into the bright lights of Tokyo after a long year of constant training and schoolwork.

The students could agree on at least one thing; this past year had been long, but exhilarating. Shoko is still accompanying Satoru and Suguru on missions, but eventually she would have to transition to specialized studies. Each year curses grew in strength, struggling to keep up with the two strongest sorcerers as they rapidly gained skills. They have been putting constant effort into training and the power difference between this year and last year was like night and day.

Sorcerers don’t typically get the luxury of having days off, but Jujutsu High School granted them a couple of weeks for a break, as they were just teenagers. They needed some time to go home and be kids too. However, until then, they had to take their Friday and Saturday nights where they could.

Most of the group had moved into the big city from the rural sections of Japan when they transferred to the high school. Tokyo is almost intimidating in the way that there is always going to be a list of things to try out. Even though Shoko has been living there for two years now, she still feels that she has seen less than a quarter of the city. Today, she is one of the most excited to go out and find adventure in the fast paced neighborhoods of Japan’s capital.

After weeks of finals, Shoko is in desperate need of a drink. She is laying on her bed in her small room, with her feet in the air, flipping through an old magazine. On her bed is a light green comforter, paired with sage green sheets. A mountain of pillows sits on top of the mattress similar to the pile of magazines sitting on the desk across from it. White and green checkered cases cover the cushions that were made for her by her grandmother. A keepsake she cherishes.

The walls of the room are mostly bare, aside from a couple of mirrors hanging on the wall and doors. She likes ensuring her reflection is perfect before she leaves in the morning.

 The clock slowly ticks by at the speed of molasses growing. The fashion book slips out of her hands and lands on her chest. Her desperation grows louder until she’s certain Utahime can hear her voice wailing through the thin walls.

The other students weren’t ready to explore the city yet, but she is eager to get outside. Shoko decides to wander to the only other girl’s room as she is tired of moping around waiting for them to pick up the pace. The molasses might actually be faster than the other students.

Pushing the door open without an invitation, she waltzes in towards Utahime, who is on the floor tidying up her room. The space around her appeared to have been ransacked by a tornado. Even Utahime’s hair was a mess.

The walls of her dorm are plastered with her favorite sports posters, none of which Shoko recognized the first time she entered the space, but she’s since gotten more familiar as her friendship with Utahime has blossomed. Across from the door stands a sliding door, which is one of the few parts that is identical to the other occupied rooms in the building. Over her three years here, Utahime has made her space truly her own.

She is typically an extremely organized person; very type A. Shoko smiles to herself in spite of the chaos. This is the first time she got to see Utahime so undone. A year ago, she wouldn’t have been able to say the same thing.

She clears her throat.

Still no response.

She stands by the door, watching Utahime run around the small space, unable to decide where to continue cleaning her room. Shoko thinks back to the days of childhood where she would start cleaning her space, only to get distracted by a toy she found. Once you get distracted, it’s hard to continue.

“I think you are nesting or something. You ever considered that as a possibility?”

Stopping to look at her guest, Utahime shoots her an annoyed glance. “No, Shoko, I am not a freaking animal!”

“Well, not exactly what I meant, but sure.” She quips, a bit of sass in her voice. Utahime gives her an easy smile, hoping to calm down the tension.

She goes back to work, so Shoko joins her and sits on the floor.

“How is training going?” Shoko tilts her head, focusing on Utahime's response rather than the mess in the room.

“Ah, it’s really busy,” she sighs. “I know it’s a year out, but it feels like graduation is coming so soon. Mei-san has been hinting that I should teach in Kyoto. I don’t know how I feel about that.” Her voice is hushed and laced with uncertainty. Her gaze is on the floor, hands in her lap. The pile she had been working on organizing is scattered in front of her like a visual representation of what her life currently feels like.

Shoko leans forward on her hands. “What don’t you like about the idea?”

Utahime looks up, making eye contact with her. Her brown eyes are watery, bottom lip slightly extended. “I know I would make a great teacher, I just don’t want to leave Tokyo.”

“Fuck it, then don’t.” Shoko whispers, confident with her response.

She knows that her opinion was important to Utahime. The older student doesn’t trust anyone else to tell her concerns to, she is closed off to anyone else. The lack of balance between male and female sorcerers deeply affects the few girls who study at the school.

“You still have a year to decide, but it’s not fair to force you into that. If you plan to stay in jujutsu society, there are other options. I am certain you could stay here.”

Utahime’s breath becomes shaky as the topic overwhelms her. Shoko feels the anxiety brewing in the room, coming off of Utahime like the steam from a rice cooker. It is the tension between them of the unspoken words. They are both thinking the same thing but neither have the nerve to say it.

Utahime leaving would devastate both of them. Even if their relationship turns out to be just friends, they don’t want to be separated. The thought clings to her like a burr. Inescapable, annoying, and persistent.

Satoru and Suguru are going to be staying in Tokyo because as the strongest, they need to be in the area with the most curses. Shoko is also tied down to Tokyo because as the only healer in jujutsu society, she needs to be here to take care of the strongest sorcerers. It makes sense that the higher ups would want Utahime in Kyoto.

Still, there has to be a way around it.

Shoko puts her arm around Utahime’s shoulders, pulling the dark haired girl in for a partial hug. “Maybe you’ll have to be a mom to the first years. If they love you enough, you’ll have to stick around here.”

Utahime rolls her eyes and pushes Shoko off. “No thanks. I’m not going to be a babysitter.”

After a smoke break, Shoko wanders back into the room. Her eyes land on her senior who is now standing with her hands on her hips, proudly looking at her finished work. The sun radiates off of her dark eyes and hair, highlighting her best features. Shoko etches every part of her into her memory as if she’ll be gone when she blinks.

We’ve got to find a way to keep her in Tokyo.

“Looking good.” She smiles to herself. She had originally been talking about the room, but if Utahime takes it as a compliment, that was true, too.

“You still plan to go out today? I am really looking forward to it,” Shoko said in a singsong voice. She leans forward, giving her a wide grin, like a hyena waiting for its prey to fall into the trap.

“Are we going out with everyone? I don’t know if I have the energy to deal with Gojo,” she responded, a slight annoyance in her voice.

“Suguru will be there keeping him in line, I’m sure. You can just spend time with me.”

 “Well, there is a cafe I have been wanting to try out. As long as I won’t have to go alone.” She looks at Shoko with puppy dog eyes.

Shoko’s heart seizes. Utahime clearly doesn’t realize Shoko would go anywhere with her. “Sure thing, Utahime, I’ll go to a cafe with you. But just one!”

Utahime giggles back, not promising anything. The sight makes Shoko feel lighter than a feather. Her goal has been accomplished.

 -------

Even though they had the day off, the students still wear their uniforms in the city. Unsurprisingly, the white haired teenage boy had the most issues with it. Everyone listened to him groan about how much the heat sucked and he missed his air conditioned mansion back home. Shoko rolls her eyes at his dramatics.

“Well, just wait until winter,” she whines back.

“Don’t remind me. I think I might freeze to death this year,” he moans dramatically, knocking into the third member of their year.

Suguru shoots him a strange look and gently shoves him off. “Satoru, I thought we talked about your complaining habits,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

Satoru shrugs in response. “You guys don’t mind that much, do you?” he turns to address the group.

Nanami, one of the first years, always appears to be in a state of annoyance no matter how Satoru was acting. Haibara is genuinely happy to be wherever the group is. Shoko guesses he still finds his senior annoying, but he holds it in better than the rest.

None of the other three, Utahime, Nanami, or Haibara, are paying attention to Satoru’s annoyances at this point. It is likely due to the fact that they are all overstimulated being in Tokyo for one of the first times, but Shoko thought it was funny either way. She giggles about the fact that they didn’t have to spend as much time with Satoru as Suguru and Shoko did, and they are still all over his cocky attitude.

“Whatever,” the teen in question casually rolls it off his back, as if his new peers don’t despise him already.

The group had agreed on meeting at a small karaoke room later in the evening. They all wanted to pursue different activities during the day, but they wanted to have fun together at some point. Utahime suggested karaoke, posing it as an option, but then refused to take no for an answer. Nanami was pretty much the only one who didn’t seem enthusiastic about it but so far, nothing put a smile on his face. Shrugging, she figured he would settle in eventually.

The students stick close together as they navigate the busy streets of Tokyo. They were flooded by many different types of people. Quite a few business employees ushered by in suits holding briefcases, being passed by tourists in shorts and t-shirts. Smells of food waft through the air, drawing Satoru in. Every few steps he starts in a different direction, only to be stopped by Suguru, who’s grabbing his wrist.

The bright lights of the streets light up the entire walkway even through the bright rays of the sun. Neon Kanji signs reflect off of Satoru’s glasses as they make their way to their first stop.

Utahime and Shoko lead the group while Nanami and Haibara pull up the rear. Shoko glances behind her at her two peers. They are walking side by side, Gojo leaning back and Geto leaning forward. She gives them a weird glare and hurries, putting distance between them.

“I don’t want to be seen with them,” she half whispers.

Utahime shrieked, grabbing Shoko’s wrist. Shoko gasps and drops the unlit cigarette in her hand. Utahime is jumping up and down, pointing out a cafe she has always wanted to try. Shoko starts to regret her promise of spending time with Utahime at a cafe. I should’ve known she’d be so animated.

Before Shoko could stand up from retrieving what she dropped, Utahime had her in tow and was running to the restaurant.

Shoko turns to the group for help, mouth open and hand extended, about to ask for assistance, but Utahime is already dragging her away. This time it was her the group turned their backs on, whistling as if they didn’t see anything. Frustrated, she flips them off and joins Utahime so she wouldn’t fall on top of her when they inevitably ran into an unfortunate soul who didn’t move out of Utahime’s way fast enough. 

-------

Evening came quicker than expected. Utahime dragged Shoko to her favorite karaoke room, reserving a private suite before anyone else arrived. Utahime rattled on about her favorite songs to sing, eagerly telling Shoko how excited she was. 

Shoko beams watching her light up as she animatedly spoke.

A few of the students managed to snag fake IDs, so alcohol was easily available. The night moved quickly as drinks were passed around the group. The more Utahime drank, the more her guard slid down, exposing her prolonged gazes at Shoko. When they made eye contact, she would turn away, and take a sip of whatever was closest to her. A few times Shoko was certain it was Nanami’s drink. He did notice but didn’t confront her about it. Every time it happened, which was quite a lot, he would leave to get another beverage.

Shoko, pretty drunk by this point, is sitting on the floor leaning against Suguru’s legs. He is sitting on the couch next to Satoru, listening to him talk about some unknown video game that they both enjoyed. Disco lights bounced off of the walls, illuminating the faces of the students that aren’t performing.

Haibara is currently singing a popular J-pop song, dancing to the beats with a drink in his hand. Utahime can’t help herself from singing along, albeit off key, but the music is so loud that her voice is drowned out. 

Haibara had dared Nanami to do a song and after multiple rounds of drinks, he finally agreed to it. He chose a rather boring, simple song that only he knew. Haibara was pretty into it, but everyone else was laughing from sheer drunken joy.

Shoko leans her head back against Suguru’s knee to get a better view of the ceiling. She thinks about how Utahime’s voice could lull her to sleep, even if she’s off key. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but it could also be the intoxication of the feelings she’s experiencing.

Utahime’s natural drunk state was resorting to being the mom of the group. This truly didn’t surprise Shoko, as Utahime was definitely a natural leader in a parental way, she often just needed a push. The alcohol was just enough to do so.

She had started picking up their empty bottles and glassware arranging them on the table in a neat manner. Satoru points out that her behavior was silly and the group joins in on teasing her about it. Beat red, she instinctively throws a cup at his head as revenge. The object stops, falling a few inches short from his face. This frustrates her even more, causing her to curse at Satoru, flipping him off. Her voice is shrill over Nanami’s song. He takes advantage of the moment, seemingly grateful that the attention is no longer on him, and slowly backs out of the song. Shoko laughs, shaking her head at how quick Utahime was to resort to violence. She makes a mental note to remember to avoid crossing her path.

Before Utahime can take the mic for another song, Shoko stands up and announces that she needs a smoke break. Once the weight from Shoko was off of his leg, Suguru is quick to rise, asking to join. The pair leaves the group and escapes to a quieter area outside. 

Pulling a lighter out of his pocket, the long haired student brings a cigarette to his lips and exhales. “I’m glad you mentioned this. I kind of needed a minute away from the chaos.”

“You mean from Utahime?” Shoko smiles back. Her eyes sparkle in the evening light as she thinks about her crush.

“Well, I wasn’t going to say it, but I’m glad you did.” His tone is bright, reassuring Shoko that he didn’t mean any harm to anyone.

“Yeah, she’s great, but definitely a wild card. It looks like you’ve got your hands full too, with Satoru.”

Suguru’s face changes to something a little less vulnerable. He is quiet for a few minutes. Shoko tilts her head at him, but he doesn’t reward her curiosity, instead he avoids catching her gaze.

Due to the uncomfortable pause, she opts to change the subject. She brings up his family, asking if he has any plans to go home over their short summer break. He had mentioned that they were close before; often spending evenings chatting on the phone with his mom while her and Satoru played cards in the background.

“Yeah, I am staying with my mom for a week. I head out next Sunday. She and I are close. I am looking forward to seeing her.” A faint expression of nostalgia dances across his face, leaving him a slight smile. “I’m sure she’s going to have a feast prepared. We are going to have to share food with the entire village. She doesn’t know how to stop giving.”

“I’m glad you get to spend time with her,” she huffed, smoke taking up space in the air. “Wait,” Shoko pauses. “That means all of you are leaving me to deal with Satoru.” She rolls her head back in a silent protest.

A small laugh comes before the words, “I think you’ll be able to fend for yourself.”

Shoko hums in response. She thinks about how grateful she is for their mutual need for a break from the group. Suguru frequently needs alone time, albeit a healthy amount, leaving Shoko and Satoru to bond over studies in the library, coffee breaks, and the occasional movie night. She doesn’t get many opportunities to hang out with Suguru alone, and she wants to prioritize their relationship too. Smoking is the perfect reason to hang out with him.

After their round is done, they head back inside to find Haibara enthusiastically singing, drink in hand. Every few verses, he interrupts his own singing by laughing as some of the beverage spilled onto the floor. Shoko shakes her head, a grin tugging at her lips. Man, he can’t hold his liquor.

As soon as Satoru sees Suguru follow Shoko in, his eyes light up like the stars after twilight. He reaches over the couch for his hand, begging Suguru to sing with him next. Shoko laughed, grabbing a drink from the table and handing it to him.

“I think you’re going to need this.”

Suguru smiles and mutters a quick, “thanks,” before heading to the cue with the white haired teenager.

Nanami is leaning back on the couch, watching Haibara perform. The tapping of his foot is the only inclination that he is not suffering. Shoko smirks; at least he isn’t completely miserable.

She looks around for Utahime, surprised that she is nowhere to be seen. Nanami shrugs, Satoru is absolutely no help, too focused on picking a duet, and Haibara is too drunk to understand Shoko’s request for assistance.

Deciding to depart from the boys, Shoko wanders through the lobby of the karaoke building. Her empty hands make her feel a little exposed, but she didn’t want to risk carrying a drink through the building when she doesn’t have an ID on her.

Pushing past the crowd of normal teenagers wearing typical summer clothes, she sighs, thinking about the life she could have had, if she’d chosen not to attend Jujutsu High. The kids are laughing, holding onto each other in a large group of seven. They are entangled together covering their mouths, speaking in a hushed tone while making their way to a private karaoke suite. Somehow, a couple of girls get close enough for her to smell the alcohol on their breath. 

What a different life that would be.

She finally finds who she was looking for in the bathroom, fixing the red bow in her straight long black hair. Shoko leans against the door observing her for a few minutes.

“Are you always fixing something?”

“Perfectionism isn’t a bad quality to have,” Utahime mumbles in defense, glancing at Shoko through the mirror.

Shoko catches Utahime’s eyes traveling down her body and back up, before they land back onto her own face in the mirror. Smirking, Shoko walks towards Utahime. Already casually confident, the liquid courage pushed her even further.

She approaches the older girl who stands with her back to the sink. Her lips are plush and slightly red. 

“Do you think we should go out sometime? Just us two. Like on a date.” Shoko’s words bring a maddening amaranth blush to Utahime’s cheeks. It matches the red bow in her hair.

Blinking, she starts to stutter. “You and me? I mean, you’re pretty and I like your personality but we are-”

Shoko’s kind laughter makes her stop talking. She now stands only a few inches from Utahime, watching her struggle to pick an excuse.

“I have seen you looking at me, Utahime,” she giggles, putting a hand on one of Utahime’s arms. “I am saying that I would like to take you on a date, but you don’t have to say yes. I can handle rejection.”

The crimson in her face deepens as she realizes that she has been caught like a fly in a spider’s web.

--------

Suguru

Suguru, two, (or was it three?) Sojus in, is pretty drunk at this point. The group had gone out a good amount of times before, but this is the first time Suguru decided to go past his normal limit. Admittedly, he did want to let loose tonight. Finals have been exhausting and he was craving some fun.

Colorful lights dance on the ceiling and walls that were enclosing the space. He is sprawled on the couch, not caring about how much space he’s consuming for the first time in his life. His eyes are on Satoru, who is completely intoxicated, singing on the small stage. A small, smug smile hangs out on Suguru’s lips. Satoru looks like he is having the time of his life serenading the three of them, although the crystals in his eyes have been on Suguru for most of the performance.

It’s probably the alcohol that’s causing the heat in Suguru’s chest to bloom like the sakura trees in the spring. Light pink rested on his cheeks, also from the alcohol, not the way that Satoru’s eyes burn into his soul.

On the other couch, Nanami sits, looking pretty miserable, more so than usual. Satoru seems to notice this too, so he runs over to the younger student, singing directly to him. In return, Nanami leans as far away from Satoru as he can, huffing into the couch. Haibara’s laughter echoes through the few empty inches of the room.

Suguru chuckles to himself. Nanami was so brave for coming out with Satoru. Suguru was surprised that he did, but he supposed Haibara was probably going to drag him out of the dorm, whether he wanted to join or not. Next to Nanami, Haibara encourages Satoru, cheering him on at each chorus.

Suddenly, Shoko and Utahime burst into the room, quickly letting each other’s hand go upon entrance. Their hands cover their mouths, trying to conceal mutual grins. Laughter bounces off of the walls as they climb onto the empty couch. When they are settled, Satoru sings to them, pulling them up to dance with him at the lyrical break. The room erupts in chaos as Haibara joins them to party.

Once Satoru was satisfied and ready to pass the microphone on, he ran to Suguru. Putting his hands on Suguru’s knees, he leans in, yelling over the music. “What did you think? I nailed it, huh?”

Suguru chuckles. “Yes Satoru, you did great.”

Beaming, looking more than proud of himself, he throws his body onto the couch, propping his head on Suguru’s leg. Heat rises in Suguru’s chest again. After being paralyzed with indecision, he sets his arms on the back of the couch. Satoru stares at the ceiling.

“Suguru,” he whines. “The room is spinning.”

“How many did you have to drink?”

Satoru mumbles something about maybe four/ He can’t remember.

Suguru swears internally, knowing he is going to have to sober up to get Satoru back to the dorms.

“Satoru,” he scolds. “Maybe you should be more responsible. You know that you can’t handle liquor because of your techniques.”

“I am responsible! I can get myself back to the dorms. I am not that wasted.”

Suguru watches as Satoru rolls off of the couch, landing on all fours. Still attempting to convince Suguru that he truly isn’t that wasted, he quickly shoots up and pulls Suguru to his feet. “Come on, we can head back now. I will walk it off.”

Suguru sucks his teeth. Satoru is walking well, but his eyes are closed more often than not. He definitely feels better than Satoru does; his stride is steady meaning he can walk in a straight line if he really focuses. As long as Satoru doesn’t knock him over or run into a pole, it would be fine. Suguru wonders if he even needs his eyes open with his technique. He’ll ask about it later.

He waves to the group, explaining that Satoru is too drunk to stay. Utahime panics, saying that she had one or two songs she hasn’t been able to do yet. It didn’t take much convincing from her for them to decide they will follow shortly after. Suguru notices that she had queued a six minute long song as the door was shutting behind him. Yeah, he is glad he doesn’t have to stay.

--------

Getting back to the train wasn’t terrible; only once did Satoru almost run into a wall. In his defense, he claimed it ‘wasn’t there when they walked to the karaoke place’. Suguru rolled his eyes but held his tongue, knowing that Satoru would absolutely jump at the chance to argue in his drunken state.

Even though it’s pretty late, the train is overflowing with people. Suguru holds onto the rail, while Satoru leans on his shoulder. He is starting to give into the liquor, letting the train lull him into a slumber, but with every rotation of the train, Satoru clutches to Suguru’s arm as if he’ll fall off of a cliff if Suguru wasn’t there. 

The clicks of the tracks are the only noise aside from Satoru’s intermittent incoherent mumbles. Suguru inquired what he was protesting about, but the only words he could comprehend were ‘too bright’ and ‘tired’. He pushes the sunglasses back up onto the bridge of Satoru’s nose, trying to offer whatever relief he could.

They should dim the lights on the train at night, especially when they know drunk students are riding.

When they arrive back at the school, Suguru is feeling much better at this point, but Satoru still seems half asleep.

“We’re almost there,” Suguru reminds him, his voice low and comforting. He knows if he doesn’t continue to encourage his best friend, he would gripe about how much he had already walked.

The high-pitched whine of cicadas encompasses them as they make their way up the steps. A cool breeze shifts the trees every so often, reminding them that it was late summer, and fall was soon to be coming. Suguru’s mind pulls an old memory to the surface of his thoughts. 

He used to spend summers working with his mom setting up for a local festival. She loved to prepare food for the community. She always wanted to make sure everyone was well taken care of. This year he will miss the event due to school, but he still plans to help her prepare when he visits next week. The thought warmed Suguru. He was really looking forward to seeing his family.

Satoru has been clutching Suguru’s arm for the final stretch into the building as if he would crumble into a dust pile if he let go.

“Hey, we’re at your dorm,” Suguru quietly states.

Satoru groans, grabbing the door handle. He stumbles, causing Suguru to have to catch him before he falls.

Suguru feels electric as their skin touches. “I thought you said you would sober up if you walked,” Suguru teases.

His best friend’s room is messy, as per usual. A few stray items of clothing decorate the floor where a rug should be. The walls are covered with posters that his parents would have never let him put up in his room back home. Upon arrival at Jujutsu High, Satoru released his long awaited teenage antics. The ones that his parents wouldn’t let him explore while living at home. In the corner where a desk once was sits a television with a Switch attached to it. Satoru seemingly left the machines on as they are the only light protruding through the room. The Digimon opening song is playing on a loop, serenading the two of them while they head inside.

Satoru trips over a shirt while he makes his way to the lamp. He curses underneath his breath. Suguru holds laughter inside.

“I did,” he stretches the word out dramatically. “I am sober, ish. Ever consider that I just wanted to hold onto you?”

Suguru’s face flushes and his mouth goes dry. He doesn’t know how to respond, so instead he keeps quiet until Satoru reaches the bed. “You okay now?” His voice is tighter than he meant for it to be.

Satoru crawls onto the mattress, mumbling something about wanting a change of clothes. Suguru asks what he wants and makes his way over to the small closet. Upon turning around he discovers that Satoru had already removed his shirt and was sprawled onto the bed. The sight makes Suguru’s face red. He quickly pulls his eyes away, tossing the requested clothes at Satoru. Without muttering a goodnight, Suguru is heading to the door trying to escape without Satoru seeing his red face.

“Sugu?”

The door handle is only a few inches away when the nickname takes him aback. He can’t decide what to think of the name Satoru had just called him. His heart races even faster, Suguru doesn’t know that was even possible. Turning around, he patiently asks Satoru what he needs. He hopes that Satoru is just going to ask for him to turn the television off, but he doubts that’s what the drunken teenager cares about right now.

An ocean of blue crashes into him from the bed across the room. Satoru is now wearing the white graphic t-shirt Suguru pulled out for him. Black sweatpants are covering his legs. Suguru’s glance went to the clothes that Satoru had gone out in, now scattered on the floor. Satoru has his head propped on two pillows with the comforter piled at his feet.

After a few minutes of stillness, Satoru averts his long gaze to the floor instead. He nervously pulls a pillow to his chest as if he needs support to get the next words out. “Thanks for always taking care of me.”

Suguru’s heart clenches. He offers a small smile and forces himself to exit the room. Once the door is closed, he exhales, not realizing that he had been holding his breath.

On the way back to his dorm, Suguru’s palms become sweaty as part of the aftermath of what just happened. His head pounds again, this time not from the alcohol. Heat rose from his chest to his cheeks as he thought about Satoru laying half naked on the bed. The way he looked at Suguru through his thick eye lashes, droopy eyes full of something more than admiration. Those eyes, his powerful cobalt eyes that encompassed his powers but also threatened to enrapture Suguru’s heart, were carved into the caves of Suguru’s memory. His hair was messy but perfect. Plush lips were holding the words back “Thank you for always taking care of me”. Thoughts pressed against Suguru’s tongue, trying to escape the cavern of his mouth. 

Is anything prettier than him? 

Pain shoots through his lip. He didn’t realize he was chewing on it. Breathing steadily with every step, he walked to the showers.

Shaking his head, he mutters to himself. “I need to chill out.”

The alcohol makes his thoughts foggy and unreasonable. He clenches his jaw as if the action would lock Satoru out of his mind.

Dragging his hands through his hair, he debates what is going on. His connection to Satoru is drowning him. 

He turns the water on to the coldest temperature available, sucking air in as he steps underneath it. The treatment works; his drunken thoughts of Satoru exit his brain, slipping down the drain with the water. It must have just been a side effect of the alcohol. Relief washes over him as picks up a pencil to make a note that next time, a cold shower will work perfectly to sober him up.

---------

Satoru

August 14th, 2006

Satoru sighs to no one as he rolls out of bed, slamming a hand on his quiet alarm clock. Sunlight pours into his small room, warming it up immediately. He slides his feet into slippers and shuffles out to the communal kitchen.

The hallway was absent of any scent of food. His stomach grumbles, disappointed that breakfast wasn’t already prepared.

He arrives at the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. To his surprise, no one is awake yet. Satoru usually is the final one to wake up and takes the longest to prepare for the day. He shrugs it off and decides to make food for himself.

The communal kitchen is a small, but bright space. The table takes up most of the room ensuring it could accommodate all of the students. Across from the entrance stood a big bay window bringing in the morning light. A few framed photos hung on the light blue walls along with a plant that Suguru insisted on having when he moved in. The plant is lucky that Haibara and Nanami are decent at remembering to water it when Suguru is out on missions. No one else is responsible enough to take care of the sad bush.

He reaches into the cabinet above the sink, pushing past his peers' dishes, pulling out his Digimon rice bowl. Shoko thinks it is childish, but Satoru cherishes it since it was a gift from Suguru. He holds it tightly to his chest and gives it the best care he can. A kind gesture is never lost on Gojo Satoru.

Satoru quickly makes rice with an egg for himself, hoping that he will be able to get out before the others wake up. Tapping his fingers impatiently, he watches the rice cook as if he removed his gaze, it would somehow cook slower. If there is one good quality Satoru doesn’t possess, it is patience. That’s why cooking is his least favorite activity.

Well, that and the fact that it is one of the only hobbies he isn’t naturally good at. He tends to avoid the activities that don’t automatically work for him.

The food was finished fairly soon. Satoru wolfed it down and sped through the dishes. He didn’t want to be asked to prepare a meal for the others. They could fend for themselves.

Shuffling back to his room, he lets a loud yawn escape and echo through the hallway. He stretches like a cat in the morning sunlight, soaking up the heat through its coat. Plans for the day enter his mind; he has class with Suguru and Shoko in the morning and expects to be given a mission for this afternoon. An assignment that is too easy for him and Suguru, as per usual. A day that challenges him has yet to arrive and he wonders if there would ever be one.

A loud thud comes from his right, interrupting his thoughts. He jumps only to realize he is outside Nanami’s room.

“Sorry for waking you,” he chuckles, speaking through the door. “You’re quite the grump in the morning.”

Nothing but another thump responds.

Laughing to himself, he stops at Suguru’s room and knocks on the door. It is still early, but Suguru is normally awake before Satoru. It is odd for him to be awake, let alone be finished with preparing food and eating before Suguru awoke.

“Suguruuuu!” He shouts through the door. “Are you up yet?”

After a moment of silence, Satoru sets his head against the door. Satoru jumps at his own noise. The action was a bit louder than he expected. 

Finally, the door opens. Satoru stumbles forward into the dorm room, surprised at the sudden movement. Suguru stands in the morning light, looking as if he had just rolled out of bed. Sleep traces underneath his eyes. His long black hair is in a high bun, but still disobeying by sticking in every direction. A white shirt sits tight against his chest, letting every muscle protrude. Grey sweatpants hang low on his hips.

“Satoru, it is five in the morning. What the hell are you doing awake?”

Satoru’s knees quiver hearing the sleepy edge in Suguru’s voice. He blinks, eyes wide, devouring the sight. He tries willing himself to speak but is unable to get his mouth to cooperate.

“It’s five - five in the morning?” Satoru eventually stumbles over the words as if he’s just learning how to communicate. He wants to keep Suguru standing here so he can enjoy the view a little longer.

“Yes. Didn’t it cross your mind as strange that you were up before me?”

Giving a nervous laugh, Satoru’s hand sits at the back of his neck. “Ah, yeah, I thought it was kind of weird,” his voice trails off.

“Go back to bed,” Suguru turns around, but doesn’t close the door.

Satoru stands in the doorway, watching Suguru go back to his mattress. He shifts from one foot to the other, feeling like a pet waiting to be invited in. He chews on his lip, debating his options. Rocking onto the balls of his feet, he takes a chance taking a step forward into the room.

Suguru climbs into bed, pulling the comforter over him, facing the wall. Satoru slowly and quietly pads towards him, taking a seat on the floor by the bed. He leans his head onto the mattress, looking up at the wall behind Suguru that’s covered in posters.

A hand falls onto his head.

“Satoru,” Suguru sighs, low and smoky. “What are you doing in here? I told you to go back to bed.”

Satoru leans into the touch that doesn’t move. Even though he was grumbling about Satoru being present, the hand gently rests in Satoru’s fluffy white hair. Satoru chooses not to respond, hoping that Suguru will fall asleep before kicking him out. Nothing waits for him in his room aside from Digimon, which isn’t enough to beckon him back there.. Spending time in Suguru’s room is never a waste of time but moping around his own room feels like it is.

A few minutes went by causing Satoru to guess he had fallen asleep. The hand in his hair goes limp. Victory.

He pulls his legs to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. He wishes he had the foresight to bring his video games with.

“Do you want to lay here?”

Satoru’s heart lurches. The voice that cut through the silence surprised Satoru. Blinking, he turns his head to look at the speaker. His eyes are closed as if he never said anything, but Satoru doesn’t waste any time waiting. He eagerly yet silently climbs into bed before Suguru can change his mind.

The mattress is soft and warm. Suguru’s shape is molded into the bed where he previously laid, a bit too short for Satoru, but he curls into it just fine. A warm amber scent floods Satoru’s senses. The room is silent aside from the consistent sound of Suguru’s low breaths.

Suguru shifts towards the wall creating as much space for Satoru as he can. After whispering a quiet ‘thank you’, he rolls over to rest.

To Satoru’s dismay, sleep never arrives. Once he was awake, falling asleep again usually wasn’t an option, but he wants to try. He lies in Suguru’s bed for the entire two hours, shifting from his side to his back, gaze changing between the ceiling or the door. The rhythm of Suguru’s breath keeps him company. His back was facing Satoru, which frustrated him. All he could see was his shoulders inflating and deflating as his breaths came and went. His dark hair spilled over his shoulders in a now low bun. He wishes he could at least look at Suguru’s delicate features as he struggles to grasp the threads of sleep.

Eventually, a piercing alarm wails through the room. The sound is sharp, jolting Satoru out of the bed. Covering his ears, he stomps over to shut it off.

“That was awful. Why do you use that horrid sound?” Satoru throws his body into the chair at Suguru’s desk. 

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Suguru blocks the light from his eyes. The bun his hair was in has fallen, now a low messy bun and his clothes are wrinkled from his rest. The white shirt still hugs his abdomen tightly. Satoru stares, eyes wide, cementing the view into his brain.

            “It gets me out of bed. More than you can say for yours most of the time.” A smile is tugging at the corners of his lips.

Satoru’s attitude shifts as he glares back. “I’ll meet you in class.”

Suguru chuckles, shaking his head as the white-haired teenager walks out of the room

Chapter Text

Shoko

August 18th, 2006

While Satoru and Suguru were posted on a slightly more complicated mission, Shoko stayed behind to study. The pair was getting stronger meaning she needed to spend time training her skills to heal them. The more dangerous their tasks got, the more likely they were to need her help.

Shoko doesn’t really mind but admittedly, she experiences a wistfulness when it comes to the boys’ company. The feeling sinks deep into her bones until she is on a first name basis with it. The nostalgia is heavy and blue. Due to the aquamarine tinted glasses that are sitting over her eyes, she clings to the time with the group a little tighter now. 

The pair is becoming inseparable; Suguru follows Satoru around, never letting him leave his sight.

It was a bit dramatic, really, if she thinks about it.

At least she could be independent while Utahime was out on work. Satoru and Suguru were completely entangled in each other, souls and all.

On Friday night, the students are hanging out in Suguru’s dorm, watching a movie together. No one is paying full attention, as all of them are sitting on the floor, chatting and sharing snacks. The movie looms in the background, quiet and steady. Satoru insisted on bringing his high quality speakers to Suguru’s room for the movie he chose, but ironically, he’s not giving it any attention. He and Utahime usually fight over who gets to choose the movie for the night, but tonight she gave in to avoid listening to Satoru complain the entire time.

The screen is the only light pouring onto the students as they sit enjoying each other’s company. Suguru opened the door to the balcony to let the room breathe a bit. The most recent task had left him and Satoru in the outskirts of the city for a couple of days, so his room is a bit stuffy. The late summer evening air is finally getting crisper as fall prepares to take over. The students are relieved; the heat of Japan was really getting to them this year.

Shoko leans back on her hands, taking up as much space as she wanted to. Next to her, Utahime sits on the floor, legs outstretched, blabbing loudly at the movie. For someone who was not interested in watching something that Satoru chose, she definitely seemed interested in the film. She is throwing popcorn at the television because the characters aren’t doing what she told them to. The view makes Shoko laugh uncontrollably.

Nights like these are what Shoko thinks high school is made for. Maybe this is what life is made for. To spend evenings at a friend’s place with no agenda to be achieved, just the buzz of chatter between each other, popcorn in a bowl that’s waiting to be touched, soda cans fizzing, and the glow of a show no one’s paying attention to. Someone’s hands playing with your hair as you drift in and out of conscious awareness of your surroundings. The demands of life are no longer tangible at this moment, for nothing truly matters as long as you have this.

Shoko can’t care less about hiding her feelings for her new girlfriend any longer. She wants to give her more affection than she normally would in front of everyone because what’s the harm? Thankfully, Utahime seems to feel the same way. She doesn’t shy away from holding Shoko’s hand, leaning on her shoulder, or gazing into her eyes a little longer than usual. Electricity crackles under the surface of Shoko’s skin when it touches Utahime’s. It’s a burn that she longs for and tonight, she’s going to light herself on fire.

Across from them, Haibara and Nanami are sitting next to each other, drinks in hand, sharing a bag of chips between them. Nanami is trying to watch the movie, but every few minutes he shoots an evil look at Utahime because she is so loud. Haibara brought a sketchbook with him, most of his focus on his current project, but every once in a while he glances at the television.

Shoko chuckles in spite of sight, and reaches for another drink. 

“Crack this open for me?” She smiles sweetly at Suguru, holding the bottle in his direction. 

Suguru is on the floor sitting cross legged leaning towards Satoru, whispering to him. The listener is very obviously not paying attention to the movie; his wide eyes are wandering over Suguru’s face as if he is going to forget what he looked like. Every now and then he gives a slow nod, encouraging Suguru to continue talking so he can keep looking at him.

Pulling his gaze from his year partner, Suguru took the bottle before saying, “Another one? Don’t you have a limit?” 

“I don’t have any responsibilities this weekend. Let me enjoy myself.”

He laughs and shakes his head in response, handing the beverage back to her. 

Shoko watches him as he shifts back towards Satoru. The white haired teenager beams as he accepts the invite to get closer. He leans on Suguru’s shoulder, talking about the movie, completely ruining the plot for anyone who’s paying attention to it. She can hear Suguru trying to stop Satoru from spilling his open drink while he animatedly gestures. Suguru has a small smile on his face as he listens to his whispers about the plot.

Smirking to herself, she moves to whisper into Utahime’s ear.

“Don’t look now but Gecho are cuddling.”

Suddenly, the room erupts in laughter from Utahime. It cut through the stillness, consuming all of the empty corners of the room. The dorm feels too small for the giggles coming from the oldest student. Shoko’s face becomes red as she realizes what just came out of her mouth. Pure joy bursts from her chest watching her partner turn red, resulting in nonstop laughter.

The commotion that the two girls made causes the other four to stop what they are doing and ask what is going on. Shoko is attempting to shush Utahime, hoping she will keep the mistake between the two of them. It was a secret the two girls had been keeping between them for about a week; they were in agreement that the boys’ definitely had something going on, but neither Shoko nor Utahime wanted to push them.

Until now.

Utahime pushes Shoko off of her, gasping to inhale air between her laughter. In her drunken, oxygen deprived state, Utahime can’t hold it in. “Shoko just said ‘Gecho’-“ her giggles cut her off, resulting in high pitched laughter once again. She rolls onto her back, clutching her stomach.

Shoko thinks she is going to start crying from her joy but also slight embarrassment from being caught red-handed. She is holding onto her partner’s laughter like it is the last time she’d hear it. Letting it crash into her like a wave, she holds onto the sound, wanting to be enveloped in it forever.

“Gecho, like a ship name! That is so damn cute!” Utahime finishes, still trying to catch her breath. A free hand wipes a tear from her eye.

Aside her, Suguru turns a light crimson, not from laughing unlike the girls, and awkwardly chuckles, pulling away from Satoru. Satoru’s face drops when his friend draws away from him. A slight pout now presents itself on his face. Satoru moves his hand as if he wants to pull Suguru back to him, but decides against it. Out of the corner of his eye, he must have seen Shoko looking at him, because when they make eye contact, he quickly puts a smile on and he joins them in their laughter.

“Shoko, how drunk are you?” Satoru leans forward, his voice light, trying to cover his dissatisfaction. His sunglasses slide down his nose slightly, crystal eyes peering over them at her.

“I have opened several for her. I don’t think she remembers,” Suguru teases, giving her a lighthearted smile.

“I do too!” She hiccups.

The argument quickly changes into more laughter from the entire group. The room feels full again. Even Nanami seems to be enjoying himself.

“For the record, I only had three.”

“The recycling bin says otherwise,” Suguru retorts, pointing at the bin.

“Okay, whatever you say.”

Apparently Satoru had left for a minute, Shoko was too drunk to have noticed, but upon his return, he asked Suguru to open his drink for him. As Suguru returns the drink, their hands linger on each others’ for a minute. Simple, but present.

She raises an eyebrow during their interaction, but neither of them notice her gaze. Shoko sighs and lays back, leaning against the bed. How long is this going to go on? Rolling her eyes to no one but herself, she thinks, They’ll figure it out.

---------

Suguru

August 18th, 2006

It has gotten pretty late by now. The breeze from the open balcony is slightly cool, which Suguru is using as an alarm that night had come long ago. The consistent song of the cicadas is ringing in a low cadence behind the sound of the movie. No moon is out tonight, so nothing but the soft light of the stars and the hue from the film is casted onto the group.

Satoru is leaning on Suguru again, snoring through what is now the second movie. Nanami left for bed about an hour ago. He usually doesn’t sleep anywhere but his bed, which was definitely in his best interest. The rest of the students are going to regret their decision to dwell on the floor the next morning. Shoko and Utahime are in a heap together on a blanket they had drug in, as if that would provide them with enough cushion to avoid the morning aches. Haibara is curled up with a pillow across from the girls hoping for the same outcome.

Suguru’s heart is overflowing with contentment. Hosting a group activity is one of his favorite duties as part of the friend group. On top of the cook, he is also the planner and host for the group. Community is incredibly important to him, so he prides himself on the success of the friend group.

His eyelids are hardly open while he watches the film. The alcohol served him well. Sleep is going to come easily tonight.

The first movie ended thirty minutes ago, but Satoru was laying on him, so he couldn’t move. Suguru had gently removed his sunglasses after he gave into sleep. After their couple of years together, Suguru has gotten used to remembering to take his glasses off for him. Satoru would often wear himself out but refused to rest until it came to claim him on its own terms. Sleep, like grief, doesn’t require an invitation. They both appear when they want, take what they want, but usually leave you with something a little better than when they arrived. Usually.

Suguru now fights the urge to give into the yawns. Crashing with Satoru on him or moving Satoru to the bed, and taking the floor with the rest of his friends contemplate in his mind. Uncertainty paralyzes him, so he chooses to force himself to stay awake while he thinks more.

Utahime’s words ring in his ears. Like a ship name!

He was drunk and he was just being a good friend to Satoru. Of course he would let him lean on his shoulder. Suguru knew how much Satoru valued the little physical touch he received. 

There will be a day where Satoru became strong enough to use limitless subconsciously. He worries that it would slowly wear him down. Satoru had spent years building walls around his heart. How will he change when no one could touch him?

That day will come and they will work through it. Suguru silently promises himself he’d be around to support Satoru when it arrived.

He looks down at Satoru on his lap, studying his soft features. His mind begins to surrender to memories of Satoru almost shining in the sun. The rays bouncing off of his white hair. His smile shimmering in the light. The way he could always see his own reflection in Satoru’s sunglasses. Satoru letting his guard down and acting free around his friends, trusting that he wasn’t going to be abandoned no matter how ridiculous he acts.

Suguru bit his lip, willing his heart to slow down. This must’ve been from the alcohol. Fighting a headache, he rolls his head on the side of the bed. Maybe Satoru will rise soon enough for him to grab some pain relief meds.

The shift must have bothered the teenager laying across his lap. Satoru stirs, blinking a bit. Suguru’s face feels warm. He smiles briefly at Satoru.

“Hey, do you want to move to the bed?”

Satoru blushes, his eyes opening wide. His eyelashes brush together a few times before he eventually slowly nods. He rolls off of Suguru and while carefully avoiding the sleeping guests, and crawls into bed.

Positioned by the wall, Satoru turns his back to it, eyes locked on the other sorcerer. Suguru grabs a pillow from the bed just as Satoru lifts the blanket, looking at him with those wide blue puppy dog eyes.

His sleepy voice is low and quiet. “You want to sleep here?”

Time freezes for a few seconds, capturing Suguru’s heart in its grasp. He is grateful for the darkness, hoping it concealed the crimson tint on his face. Swearing internally, he realizes Satoru could probably tell from his six eyes.

He really needs to practice hiding his emotions better.

“Um,” he inspects the floor trying to figure out where he could lay. Unfortunately, there isn’t much space left between the three who were already there. Do you want to move to the bed? His own words echo in his mind. He thought I meant us. He swallows thickly.

“Right, sorry,” a nervous smile presents on his lips.

Satoru gives him a big grin that read I am trying not to scare you away but I am so glad you said yes.

Climbing in next to him, Suguru stiffly lays on his bed. Satoru looks at him longingly. 

Suguru gives in, shifting onto his side so he can look at Satoru. Inches apart, they inhaled each other’s breaths. Their eyes meet, searching each other’s intimately. Suguru feels like he is going numb from the anxiety that dances underneath his skin.

Suguru’s bangs slid into his face, making Satoru laugh quietly. It is a brief note, but Suguru held onto it until his hands were blue. Simultaneously, they reach to move his hair, causing their hands to bump each others’. Satoru lets a small breath escape and pulls his hand away. He leans back onto the pillow, eyes now on the ceiling.

After a few minutes of silence, Suguru lays flat and whispers, “Goodnight, Satoru.”

“Goodnight, Suguru.” Satoru beams at him. Suguru’s heart swells once again. His smile is so bright that Suguru wondered if he was holding the sun. 

--------

Satoru

In the few times Suguru has opened up to Satoru about his life back home he’s described village festivals with his neighbors with picnics, fireworks, and beach days. His mom always provides more food than anyone could possibly eat, ranging from onigiri, yakitori, and katsu sando, to mochi and dango. His father, who usually only makes it around for the festivals, otherwise pretty much absent, helps set up the decorations of lanterns and booths for the visitors to enjoy around town. The kids, including Suguru, would wander with treats before the entertainment began, distributing the extra food to the workers as appreciation for their hard work.

This is what Satoru thinks Suguru is dreaming about while they’re laying in bed together.

It didn’t take long for Suguru to fall asleep. He rolled over amidst Satoru’s constant rotating, and ended up lying on his chest facing Satoru. One of his hands lies palm up on the comforter that they share.

Satoru is annoyed that once again, rest no longer wants to be with him. Of course he could sleep while laying on Suguru’s lap a few minutes ago, but now that they are sharing a bed, any rest he could have had has decided to abandon him.

Typical.

He has tried laying on his back, his side, and even facing away from the other person on the bed, but nothing has worked. Now he’s laying on his back, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the sun to peek through the windows and alert the birds that it’s time to rise. Suguru’s analog clock is blaring red numbers at him as if it's a curse teasing him about the inevitable disaster Monday will be.

An hour of sleep is better than nothing. Or am I just trying to gaslight myself?

Maybe he will be able to convince Shoko to use her technique to help his body rest tomorrow if he offers her a sweet enough deal. Perhaps an expensive cocktail or two on him at the next bar they manage to sneak into would be enough.

He shifts onto his side again with his eyes locked on his dark haired counterpart, studying his face. He examines the way his lips are slightly parted and how his nostrils flare when he exhales. His eyelashes tilt downwards, fluttering every few seconds, indicating that Suguru is stuck in a childhood dream filled with orange glowing floating lanterns, scents of karaage wafting through the air, and his laughter as he chases his friends through the town. In that reality, no curses are to be found just yet. He is safe at home and no one will hurt him.

At some point, the girls and Haibara had woken up and left the room. Satoru pretended to be asleep, hiding under the covers like a child who doesn’t want to be caught awake by their parents. Part of him wishes that he could have seen if anyone noticed that him and Suguru are sleeping together, but it ultimately doesn’t matter. He figures they know how close of friends the two are, so it probably wouldn’t be a surprise.

Vulnerability is foreign to Satoru, similar in the way losing a battle to a curse would be. Even though these are his friends, he wants to keep it that way.

When the room is clear except for the two boys, Satoru glances between Suguru’s hand and his face, checking to make sure he isn’t awake. Curiosity gnaws at his leg as if it was a dog on a bone.

What would it feel like if our hands touched?

His mind wanders back to the festival fireworks when their skin meets each other’s. 

It is just for an experiment, but if he’d have to say, a successful one at that. With the sensation, Satoru realizes how soft his skin is. No cracks or crevices on the plane of his hand, nor are there any callouses on his palms. Between the divots of creases rests an expanse of smooth emptiness for Satoru’s hand to greet. 

The movement causes Suguru to shift a little. Satoru’s mouth goes dry. He quietly pulls his hand away, but Suguru’s fingers latch on before he gets the chance. Satoru’s heart races as if his hand were ensnared in a trap that he couldn’t flee from. He gapes at the onyx haired teenager's face, trying to determine if he’s conscious or not. Breathing shakily and gathering his footing on this new ground, he manages to slow his heart down. Suguru isn’t awake. He’s still in a dream-like state; eyes are still closed but shifting every thirty seconds now. He’s probably watching the fireworks, not knowing that Satoru is doing the same thing.

Staring at their partially interlocked fingers, Satoru blushes and smiles in the darkness. His heart aches from the rapid transition between fear and peace. Trying to give it a break, he sinks into the comfort of the blankets, pillow, mattress, and Suguru.

Once the anxiety he didn’t realize he was surrounded with melts away, sleep creaks the door open, coming in for Satoru. He reluctantly allows it to take him from the reality he was settled in, closing his eyes and drifting to dreams of his own.

-----------

August 19th, 2006

Scents of miso soup, rice, and tamagoyaki waft into Satoru’s nostrils, encouraging him to get out of bed faster than a bullet train. The sun spills into the room on the hardwood floor, providing a warm spot for his feet while he slides his indoor shoes on. Stretching like a cat, Satoru’s arms reach towards the ceiling with a loud yawn before his eyes blink open.

He is in Suguru’s room.

In Suguru’s bed.

His heart complains about the sprint his brain signs it up for once again.

The scent of warmth, amber, and osmanthus flowers dominates the smell of breakfast that was drifting into the space. Satoru lingers in the bed for a little longer so he can selfishly enjoy the first moment he has ever gotten in Suguru’s room alone. A milestone like this should never be looked past. Waking up in someone else’s room, even a friend's, is new for Satoru. As a child, he wasn’t allowed to have sleepovers with friends aside from cousins, and they begged to stay at his house because of the grandness of it all. His aunts and uncles didn’t have a half sized theatre in their house.

At the time, Satoru thought it was silly for his cousins to want to spend time at his parent’s practical mansion. All it could offer was stone cold walls of beige and whites and waiting staff who were too polite to step out of the boundaries of professionalism, even when Satoru asked for them to play with him because his parents were too distant. Still, with his cousins around things became slightly better, those few times they would spend nights with him.

So today, as the first time that Satoru woke in someone else’s bed, he’s going to celebrate a little bit.

He had asked Suguru to sleep with him.

The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. Redness and heat suffocate his face as the aftermath of the strike. He can recall Suguru sleeping next to him, or at least pretending to, but he doesn’t remember falling asleep himself. He is still wearing the clothes he went to sleep in, so he could not have gotten that drunk. Satoru rubs his face, wishing he could remember more of the events. 

He also kind of wishes Suguru was still in bed with him.

Once he decides that his mini celebration has been enough and there will probably be more days of them sharing the same bed, the door opens and his feet take him to the kitchen. His mouth starts watering as soon as the barrier is broken. With food smelling that good, Suguru must be the one preparing breakfast.

Stopping by his room, he quickly throws on a clean white shirt and black pants. Sliding into the communal kitchen, barely avoiding a crash, he smiles when he sees Suguru at the stove. Utahime, Shoko, Nanami, and Haibara sit at the table, playing a game of cards.

“Look who’s finally up,” Shoko says without lifting her gaze.

“Am I late to something? Cause it looks like I’m right on time.” He gives a confident smile, sliding his sunglasses onto his nose.

“When are you not late, Satoru?” Suguru teases.

Sleep is still laced in the tone of Suguru’s voice. Satoru stumbles into the kitchen, taking the seat next to Haibara. Discreetly looking over his shoulder, Satoru helps Haibara by using the extra eyes to his advantage. The younger sorcerer starts laughing when Satoru whispers to him, breaking their cover. Unfortunately, Utahime notices because Haibara can’t keep a secret.

She stands up, slamming her hands on the table. “Satoru! You aren’t even playing the game!”

As he expected, she picks up the nearest object, which happens to be a cup. Shoko rolls her eyes before trying to calm her down. Utahime will hear nothing of it and chucks the glassware straight at Satoru’s head.

“Utahime, you are always so violent!”

“Satoru! You are always such an idiot!”

The bickering continues between the two for a few minutes; the rest of the group continues the game without either of them.

In the midst of their argument, Haibara beams as his win in the game becomes inevitable. With Utahime preoccupied, Satoru had locked in Haibara’s victory either way.

“Thanks, Gojo,” Haibara laughs quietly, hoping to avoid Utahime’s wrath.

Her mouth drops open, pointing at Satoru, loading another item his way. Satoru is in the middle of retorting to Utahime when the food catches his eye. Suguru walks between them by placing food on top of the game, like the mediator he usually is

“We’ll finish this later, Satoru,” she mutters with a mouth full of food.

He laughs and claps his hands. “Works every time!”

After laying all of the food out, Suguru takes the empty seat between Haibara and Nanami. Unusual, Satoru thinks. He normally sits next to me. 

Satoru can’t see his face behind Nanami and Haibara. His curiosity is still ignited, wondering what he is thinking about what happened last night.

“When do you guys leave for summer holiday?” Shoko asks the group. 

The question barges through Satoru’s thoughts, bringing him back to the present. Nanami grumbles something about leaving tomorrow. Said he’ll be back by mid next week. Haibara excitedly mentions his family trip is tomorrow through mid week as well.

“I head out today,” Suguru responds, picking up another bite of food. “I’ll be back at the end of next week.”

Unfortunate timing, Satoru thinks as he chews slowly.

Haibara enthusiastically chimes in, “Where are you going Suguru? Are you and your family doing anything fun?”

“Yeah, my mom and I are working a festival in the village. I am looking forward to seeing her. I prepared this to practice my cooking skills before I go home.”

“She’s going to love it!” Haibara practically jumps out of his seat. “It’s delicious.”

Suguru thanks him. “Glad you like it. What about you guys? Anything fun?”

“Heading to the beach with the family. We do it every year.

Nanami shrugs with a vacant face. “I don’t think I’m doing anything specific. Just going home.”

Haibara drags him into a conversation about summer activities, rattling on about his favorite memories. He asks Nanami about his family; what their dynamic is like, how big his family is, and if they are fun to be around. Nanami appears to be very focused on the conversation; a nice change of pace for him.

“You, Utahime?” Satoru questions with a flat voice. 

She shoots him an annoyed glance, clearly still frustrated from earlier, before pushing her bangs out of her face. “My whole family is staying together at my parents’ house. We are probably going to watch baseball, maybe we’ll play a game or two. It’ll be a short visit, but I’m glad to be going home.”

“That leaves me and Shoko,” Satoru leans back into his chair, putting his arms behind his head.

“Yay me,” Shoko deadpans.

Satoru’s jaw drops open, feigning pain. “Are you saying you’re dreading time with me? I can’t believe you.”

“I’m going to need to pick up a pack of cigarettes and maybe some booze before you guys leave.”

“I’ll make it fun,” he whines in between bites of sweet, salty goodness.

After breakfast is finished, Satoru offers to clean up. “You guys can go get ready to leave.”

His eyes follow Suguru as he leaves the room. “Thanks for breakfast,” Satoru calls, struggling to keep his voice flat.

Suguru doesn’t respond.

A mixture of ‘thanks’ and waves fill the room as the students leave for their rooms. Everyone filters out but Haibara, who stuck around to keep Satoru company.

Satoru would say that he is friends with Haibara, in a way. They had spent some time together between classes; playing sports, karaoke, and watching movies together. The two have similar tastes in media which brought them together. Having someone to talk to about his favorite movies was a huge plus for Satoru. It doesn’t happen often; time only allowed him to work, but before group activity nights, he would often seek Haibara out to plan what movie they were going to force everyone to watch.

Suguru seems to think that all of the underclassmen dislike Satoru, but Satoru thinks he is mostly kind to them.

Biting into an apple, Haibara leans against the counter while Satoru cleans dishes. Satoru’s body language is slightly tense, but he is trying to be open.

“You and Suguru are pretty close, huh?”

Caught off guard, Satoru pauses.  “Yeah, I think so.”

He feels unsure of himself; not able to guess where the conversation was going. His weight shifts from one side to the other, as did the energy in the room.

Haibara gives a big smile in response. “I just really look up to him! I want to be as strong as he is someday. Do you have any suggestions on talking to him? He is kind of intimidating –”

Relieved, Satoru goes back to tidying up. He lets Haibara talk about Suguru for a little bit. His heart is full of pride as he listens to Haibara ramble. Hearing that someone appreciates Suguru as much as he does is comforting. Suguru deserves it.

“Uh, yeah, he’ll probably talk to you about his family. Oh, and he likes sports quite a bit. Basketball is probably his favorite, but he enjoys soccer a lot too. Not into movies so much, but he lets me talk about them. Suguru is really into music though —” Satoru stops himself as if he were a record scratching. He will talk about Suguru for hours and Haibara will probably let him.

“You should chat with him about his vacation when he comes back. I’m sure he’d love to talk about it.”

“Sweet, thanks Satoru!” He nods and waves as he leaves the room.

Smiling to himself, Satoru turns his attention back to the chores.

Water runs and dishes clink together as he debates how to approach Suguru about last night. If he doesn’t bring it up before he leaves, it will probably tear at him internally, but things could also not go well. Being away from him in a tense situation might put him through torture though. 

On the other hand, Satoru knows that Suguru likes to avoid difficult topics of conversation. That is one of the few defaults of their relationship. Satoru doesn’t mind confrontation but it can cause Suguru to shut down.

When they first met, Suguru was quiet and distant. He hung around in the spaces where Shoko and Satoru were chatting about the most recent pop culture, always wandering a few steps behind them. A distant look settled on his face. His violet eyes were usually settled on the ground in front of his steps or their surroundings, not because he was investigating, but more so observing. The quiet ones are always the best at monitoring situations.

Eventually, Suguru opened up like a cherry blossom, slowly holding onto the hope that maybe this could be the right place for him. Shoko often wanted to do her own thing after missions; mostly shopping, and the boys weren’t really interested in scouring the streets of Tokyo for the latest trends. Instead, they would grab dinner together and head back to the school where Digimon waited for Satoru to catch.

During their times just the two of them, that was when Suguru started to rely on Satoru for more than just his strength as a sorcerer. His eyes open to who Satoru is at the core, they look past the top of the ocean to underneath the surface of his powers. Suguru holds an interest in Satoru as a human, that no one else ever has.

Only a few times have they had to discuss difficult topics, and none of them as serious as emotions or feelings are. The possibility of cutting the string that ties the two of them together by bringing up a conversation that he could just not have creates a dissonance in Satoru’s brain. He could just leave it. What if Suguru gets closed off again? It took almost a year to get him to blossom. Is that something he’s willing to lose?

A cup slides out Satoru’s hand as he’s washing it. He reaches to catch it but is too late. At the bottom of the sink it shatters into a couple of pieces. He sighs and gently pulls it out, taking it to the trash can.

Shoko’s going to be mad at me for that one. At least maybe I’ll get out of dishes next time.

----------

The afternoon flies by quickly. Most of the group is packing, leaving Satoru to his own devices in his dorm alone, flipping through manga. He’s read the same page five times, but it can’t hold his attention. He can’t concentrate on anything aside from Suguru’s hand in his last night. Questions nip at the back of his mind. He has to bring it up before Suguru leaves for the weekend. He doesn’t think he can live without knowing. He might perish in the dread of the unknown.

He actually might cease to exist from being away from Suguru for so long.

The door creaks open slowly as if a cat were pushing it. Satoru flips to lay on his stomach as he examines the hallway.

“Oh, hey Shoko,” he gives a small wave.

She helps herself inside his room, pushing the pile of books off of his chair to take a seat at his desk. The top book seemed to catch her interest, so she flips through it while asking, “What are we going to do while everyone is gone?”

Satoru shrugs. “Don’t know. Why aren’t you going home?”

The textbook lost her attention. She drops it and pulls a cigarette out, as if she needs one to get her through the explanation. “Oh, you know, I’m not interested in going back to my small town. When I left that place, it was for good. My family can come to me if they want.”

Her nonchalant attitude doesn’t surprise Satoru; it is as ever present as blue spruce. Shoko never gets far from it. The consistency provides him with a little bit of comfort though, he knows now that it isn’t just the students she feels indifferent about. 

“Ah, yeah. Sometimes there isn’t a reason to go back. You’ve got all you need here,” he threw his head back giving her a cheeky smile.

Rolling her eyes, she mumbles a “yeah” and inhales on her cigarette. “You wanna go out tonight?” Shoko’s voice is laced with honey. She smirks at him knowingly. 

As if he has a say. 

“Are we riding your moped?” Satoru groans. 

“Duh, I don’t have it for nothing. You’ll be fine!”

“At least let me say goodbye to Suguru before you kill us.”

She huffs, not from the cigarette in her hand. “I can use the reverse cursed technique and revive you, so you’ll live no matter what.” As she exits the room, a hand lazily waves to him. “Say your goodbyes and meet me at my room tonight. Be ready to have some fun.”

---------

“Can I walk you to the station?” Satoru asks, catching Suguru closing the door to his dorm room. Hope is stuck in his words, unwilling to remove its claws. On the outside, he wears a confident aura, but internally, he had to barter with courage to get it to stick around long enough for him to approach Suguru.

Satoru is positioned against the doorway of his room. The light from the afternoon sun reflects off of his white shirt and his white hair. A small, shy smile traces Satoru’s lips.

“Sure, Satoru.” His tone is angelic. Satoru’s heart thumps.

He excitedly bounces over to Suguru, offering to carry his bags. Suguru politely declines. “You know you’ll be complaining about how heavy they are in no time.”

Rolling his eyes, Satoru mocks his words

After a minute, he finally agrees. “Yeah, you’re better for the job.”

The heat of summer accompanies them on their silent walk to the station. Apparently the offer wasn’t enough for the confidence to stick around. Satoru is out of offerings, so he has to figure this one out himself.

Though they are walking side by side, Suguru hauls the suitcase between the two of them. Trying to ignore the awkwardness, Satoru keeps his gaze on the ground. He is lost in thoughts about Suguru’s soft hand again. Sleep is overrated. Next time, if there is one, he will make sure to stay awake all night.

“You’re unusually quiet.” Amethyst eyes gaze in his direction.

“Ah, you noticed?” Satoru smirks. His grin crooked and radiant. 

“Uh, yeah?” Suguru chuckles. A fleeting blush covers his face. “I don’t normally get the chance to sit with my thoughts when you’re around.”

“Can you imagine being stuck in your head all the time? You’d be so bored without me!”

“Yeah, I don’t know what I am going to do for the next few days. It’s going to be so quiet without you.”

“You’re so going to miss me.” 

A beat.

“Right?” Bright sapphire eyes blink at Suguru, begging like a dog for a scrap of affirmation.

“Of course.”

The rest of the walk to the train is quiet and short. A lump of anxiety is stuck in Satoru’s throat. The words he wants to say are tucked at the back of his sore lungs. When Satoru opens his mouth, ready to let the formed phrase flow out of the violent pattern of thoughts rushing through his mind, Suguru stops before heading into the station. 

“Have a good few days, yeah?”

“Hey, I wanted to talk –” Satoru blurts at the same time. His stomach drops like an anchor sinking into its fate at the bottom of the sea, only allowed to be resurrected if summoned.

The comment hangs in the air like a hummingbird. Neither of them acknowledge it.

“Yeah, yeah. Enjoy your time as much as you can.” He gives a confident smile, hoping Suguru will just skip over Satoru’s interruption. “I know you’re going to struggle without me, but I’ll be here waiting when you get back.

Suguru laughs. A sound that Satoru will always be insatiable for. “Don’t perish without me, Satoru. Oh, and don’t bother Shoko too much.”

“Huh? She loves spending time with me!”

“Bye, Satoru. See you in a few days.” He waves at the white haired teenager and steps onto the platform.

Satoru watches as Suguru enters the train, giving one final nod to his friend. He acknowledges the rolling boil of frustration that is evaporating into the air. What if Suguru doesn’t feel the same way? If he speaks the words into existence, he can’t take them back. Is he willing to live in the purgatory of the unknown to preserve what they currently have?

The train station is still flooded with people as Satoru pushes through them debating his decision to avoid the conversation. People in suits usher by, not giving him a second glance as they rush to their destination. A few tourists scamper by, speaking in loud English about how excited they are to “finally be in Tokyo”. Satoru scoffs under his breath.

What a simple life they must have.

Shrugging it off, Satoru decides that he would have plenty of time to acknowledge his feelings, even though he wishes he had found Suguru sooner. The promise of years of undiscovered memories that were awaiting them is enthralling. The last two summers have been overflowing with moments that he will never forget and he can’t wait to unfold more.

Instead of drowning in the cerulean sea of the echoes of the unsaid, the young sorcerer decides to get himself a treat for putting himself through the crowds of humans in the city. He can focus on other things since Suguru wasn’t there.

Satoru cherishes his moments with the students of Jujutsu High. He has seen what happened to sorcerers and figures his fate would be similar. Working all the time protecting the weak and then eventually raising a family to support his legacy. Neither of those were aspirations that Satoru has, of course, but that isn’t for him to decide. Satoru’s dreams are in the clutch of a future that was far out of his reach. The captor dangles his aspirations in front of him, always within sight but never within reach.

The freedom he experiences at Jujutsu High is the first he had ever tasted. Living at the Satoru household was strict and intoxicatingly firm, never allowing for any mistakes. By nature, even as a child Satoru was forced to bear the weight of the world on his shoulders. The second he was born, his power shifted the balance of curses and sorcerers and his future was delicately carved out for him. Nuance is not achievable. In every timeline people are always watching him, lurking and afraid. His family is aware of his strength, so they have always kept him on a tight leash.

A bargain was put in place between Satoru and his family. He knew a fate was waiting for him at Jujutsu High School and he was determined to let it unfold in front of him. 

Leaving his clan allowed him to be fairly independent and he wants to absorb every minute of the new freedom. The once purple earth morphed into blue when he left the clan and chased his selfish wants. Surrounding himself with proof that he had good memories with good friends causes him to feel blissful. It is something tangible. Something real. He has moments to live for and to fight for. Reasons that he wants to keep going.

A soft jingle of a bell rings through the air when Satoru pushes the door open to a small shop on the outskirts of Tokyo. The store is quieter than the bustling streets of the inner city, but he’s pretty sure it still carries what he’s looking for. Instead of being filled with bodies, it’s stacked with items such as trinkets, books, and treats. Satoru wanders through the aisles, letting his eyes land on the bright colored packaging of Sanrio and Hello Kitty toys. Once he makes it far back enough, he discovers that they even have Nintendos at this store. He gapes at the devices for a few minutes, debating bringing one home as a distraction from Suguru’s absence.

In the same section, what he came here for is sitting on a shelf. It looks a little dusty, as if no one has brought one home in a while. It must be excited to come home with Satoru.

In order to properly showcase his favorite days, he buys a simple disposable camera. He feels so proud, like a child who made their first purchase with their own money. He can’t wait to show Suguru his new toy, but more importantly, capture their perfect moments in the small disposable camera that sits in his hands. He’ll just have to wait for those few days of absence to pass until they’re together again and then, they’ll have their entire future together as well.

As he exits the store he slightly bows to the owner as the bag swings in his hand. On the way back to the school, he pulls out the new game device. A grin slides onto his face as he opens the box the Nintendo is in. Maybe he can barter with Shoko to play games with him because he’s going out with her tonight. She owes him at least owes him that for making him suffer, right?

Chapter Text

Satoru 

August 19th, 2006

A few hours after bringing his new prizes home, Satoru got prepared to go out with Shoko. He doesn’t particularly like alcohol, drinking, loud bars or city lights, but he is willing to put aside all of that to make Shoko’s night. Really, none of the scene appeals to him, like at all, but she matters to him. So, he does what a good friend would, and sacrifices the comforts for her.

Tonight things are a little different. Satoru does want to indulge in normal teenage activities. To drown himself in the crowds of drunk twenty year olds that are spilling drinks like the alcohol didn’t cost more than an hour of their paycheck. He has been tortured by his thoughts of Suguru all day and now, he wants to forget that he is gone. The halls of the corridors feel emptier than the cups in the bar he’s going to be at tonight.

This is ridiculous. He thinks to himself. Can’t even survive without him for one night?

Knocking on Shoko’s door, he pushes the thoughts out of his mind. Dressed in a white short sleeved button down and a pair of high end black slacks, he is comfortable and ready for a night out. The shirt is silk but something easily replaceable in case it gets ruined from the night. A simple gold chain lays cold against the back of his neck, just enough to shimmer in the lights of the club.

Shoko throws the door open. Cigarette in her mouth, her makeup is half done, but her hair is perfectly styled. It’s long enough to touch the base of her neck. She recently told Satoru that she wants to get it trimmed soon, but Utahime wants her to go with her to the salon, so she hasn’t done it yet. She is unintentionally matching Satoru with a black mini skirt and a button down. It is partially open showing a black tank top underneath that is hugging her neck. On top of the turtleneck sits a long silver chain matching a pair of silver hoop earrings. Her red lips match her half buttoned silk top.

“Hey, you’re actually early for once,” she quips, letting him in.

Satoru sits on her bed while she finished her makeup. “Yeah, nothing better to do.”

“Missing Geto, huh?”

“Ughhh, I guess.”

She returns nothing but a stiff laugh. “You’ll have fun tonight and forget that he’s even gone. He’ll be back before you know it.”

----------

Satoru actually got out of riding Shoko’s moped. Luckily for him, she forgot about some maintenance that it needs, so the two end up taking the train.

For a Saturday night, the train is somewhat empty. Shoko sits to Satoru’s left with her phone in her hands, quietly tapping on the keypad. Satoru sneaks a glance at her phone and notices that she’s texting someone labeled “<3 loml <3”. Questions linger on his tongue but he isn’t sure if he should expose himself.

Curiosity, as per usual, wins. “Who are you texting?”

Shoko pulls her phone to her chest and gives him a stern look. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I’m just asking! I know it can’t be anyone other than Utahime.”

“I’ve got other friends unlike you, Satoru.”

Skipping past the sting, he decides to keep prying the clam that’s tightly sealed. “So the ‘love of your life’ is going to stay a secret from me?”

“You really don’t possess any manners do you?” The ring of her phone follows her words as if on cue from a symphony conductor. She grins at the light shining off of the device, quickly sending a response back. This time, the phone is purposefully angled away from Satoru, but he still tries to get a glimpse. Shoko scoffs and shoves him away.

Satoru laughs in response. The train stops, opening its mouth to gather more souls. As people saunter into the cab, Shoko and Satoru stand to give their seats to an older couple. They mutter thank yous to the two students, grateful for the empty spots to sit. Shoko and Satoru now stand side by side, but her phone is out of his sight this time.

----------

Shoko brings him to a bar in Shinjuku that would normally be his worst nightmare but tonight, it was exactly what he needed. It is a high end bar, tucked in between a late night eatery and a classy hotel on a busy strip of the city. The granite countertops are swarmed with crowds of people pushing through to the bar. Most of them already have a drink in hand but are desperate for another one.

In another room the dance floor is waiting for the duo to dance. The crowd is loud, but the music is louder, vibrating through Satoru’s feet. Drinks are not cheap, but they have very sweet options, which Satoru takes as a win.

“You’re paying for this!” She shouts over the DJ, pointing at the drink she has already drunk half of. She offers him the rest because it is too sweet for her. 

“Sure, whatever!” He yells back, gladly accepting the new treat that is placed in front of him.

The counter is cold against his back. The drink is sweating in his hand through the heat that is radiating off of the crowd. Shoko stands next to him, nodding her head to the beat.  The more he drinks, the more he starts to move with the songs.

Shoko orders another drink and has it placed on his tab. Satoru doesn’t mind. He is used to paying for his friends. He figured it is the best way to take care of them, albeit one of the only ways he knows how.

Shoko, four drinks in to his one and a half, is ready to take on the dance floor. She tries pulling him onto it, but he wouldn’t budge.

“I’m not drunk enough yet!”

“I’m ordering you a shot! You are such a lightweight, it will only take one!”

A few seconds later, a clear shot glass with a sage green liquid inside is placed into his hand. Shoko has one as well, lifting her glass to cheer his. The drink is delicious; cold and incredibly saccharine. Just enough to take off the edge from the humidity and his anxiety.

Shoko was right; Satoru didn’t need much more to feel it. He grabs her hands and pulls her to the dance floor this time, ready to take as much space as he wanted. Throwing his body around, he lets the beat and rhythm guide his movements.

Laughter spills out of his throat as he watches his friend dance along with him. The song flows through his bones, possessing him to get into a groove. He doesn’t remember getting another mixed drink, but a cold one is in his hand, spilling onto the dancefloor as he moves. Turns out, he’s one of the drunk teenagers dropping alcohol everywhere. Luckily for him, this isn’t even a sliver of his paycheck, so he couldn’t care less.

Shoko pays no attention to the liquid that was sloshing in between them onto their clubbing clothes. A chuckle bursts through his chest. He had forgotten how nice it felt to be this carefree. After all of his recent missions, although they were simple, he had been so busy that time like this was few and far between.

A bond between him and Shoko slowly starts forming. He is looking forward to their friendship blossoming.

“I need a smoke break,” Shoko shouts over the music, pointing to the door. She puts a hand on his elbow, gently guiding him to the door.

The hot air slams into Satoru like an invisible vehicle. Now that it is quiet, his mind is able to catch up with his body.

He actually feels pretty good.

“Let’s go to another bar. Oh Shoko! Can we go to a club with food?” His hand was on her arm like a child asking a parent for permission.

Shoko gapes at him. “You want to go to another bar? Gojo Satoru wants to bar hop?” 

“Tch, why are you so shocked? You said we were going to have fun, so let’s have fun.”

Satoru watches her eyes light up like a video game coming to life. Perfect.

The duo makes their way to a nearby arcade bar. Satoru stumbles only a few times, putting a hand on Shoko’s shoulder to stabilize himself. The streets of Shinjuku are overflowing with nightlife. A group of girls scampers past them, holding onto each other as if the ground is going to suddenly disappear in front of them. Red and green neon signs of Kanji reflect off of the slightly damp streets from a rain shower that occurred while they were dancing.

Satoru pulls his phone out to check for a notification from Suguru.

Nothing.

He sighs and caves, being the first one to text. 

10:03pm: hey, how’s it going?

He clicks send, watching the text slide into the grey space on the screen.

I hope he’s having a good time.

By the time they arrive, the drunken hunger has fled, but now he has his eyes set on his favorite pastime; video games.

Inside of the arcade loud music flowed above them, along with the intermittent pings from video games. It’s loud, but not as intolerable as the club. Shoko hits the bar first, while Satoru wanders to find an open game to play.

He is in the middle of beating the previous high score of an old Pac-man machine when she hands him a mixed drink. “Ugh, Shoko, give me like, two seconds,” he quickly says, eyes not leaving the screen.

She walks away, presumably finding her own game to start. After beating the high score and then beating his own record, the teenager walks away feeling accomplished. He knows no one would be able to top that. 

Shoko is leaning against a table with a crowd playing Jenga with a crowd she stumbled upon. Her gaze is intense on the game as she plans her next target. 

“Oh hey! Took you long enough! Here,” she shoves a plastic cup into his hands. 

The liquid looks suspicious. He raises an eyebrow at her.  “You sure I’ll like this?

“Positive,” she replies with a wink.

Putting her eyes back on the game, she makes her next move. Satoru watches as the tower comes down onto her. Cursing, she quickly pulls her drink out of the way of the tumbling blocks.

A little before midnight, Satoru is completely wasted. He had two more cocktails and nowhere near enough water. He tries to remember if he ate anything other than the sweet breakfast Suguru had cooked earlier that day, but he also couldn’t remember where he was, so his efforts are futile.

Without Suguru there to monitor him, Satoru forgot that he has limits for alcohol. The environment is suddenly too overstimulating for him. The music is possessing his body and the constant hum of video games makes his mind feel numb. That was what he wanted but now that he was living it, he remembers why he dislikes it. He really wishes Suguru was there.

Grabbing Shoko, he begs to leave. His ocean eyes and drunken state are enough to get her to agree. 

Shoko is trying to hold her taller friend up, guiding him to the station. “I didn’t know I’d have to be taking you home like this. I thought you didn’t like drinking that much!”

Between hiccups, he answers, “I really don’t, I just, I couldn’t remember my limit.”

“Well, you’re like twice my size and I can’t carry you.” The struggle becomes apparent in her voice. “You’re going to have to sober up when we get to the train.”

“I’ll be fine.” Another hiccup.

The night is quieter by this point, aside from Satoru’s intermittent hiccups and Shoko’s occasional groans. City lights still cover every inch of their surroundings, but the busy life has died down. Humidity lingers thick and heavy, persistent in its goal of staying long term.

Every few steps, Satoru leans on Shoko for support, as if the only reason she’s here is to be a crutch for him. It feels like the world is spinning on more than just its axis and Satoru is a personal target.

“Probably a good thing I didn’t bring my moped. I wouldn’t have been drunk enough to deal with you like this. You’d be so much easier to handle if you weren’t so awkwardly shaped,” Shoko laughs at her own comment.

“What is that even supposed to mean?” Satoru pouts, kind of hurt by her joke.

“I’m just saying. You’re pretty lanky.”

They reach the station right before midnight, catching the final train. They aren’t the only young people who had this idea, as this cab is pretty full of intoxicated people. Satoru’s head falls onto Shoko’s shoulder on the ride back. There’s nothing like the bright lights of the train pounding into your skull after a long night of drinking. Satoru shields his eyes but a headache has already begun to sink in.

By the time they finally arrive at the outskirts of the city, Satoru’s head pounds from dehydration. He is able to walk in a straight line now, but he still feels the aftermath of that only comes with too much alcohol. His mind wanders to Suguru, thinking about what he is doing right now. If he is enjoying his time at home with his family. He is probably cooking with his mom, like he planned to. Images of Suguru in an apron popped into Satoru’s mind. His hair swept back, exposing his neck and perfect jawline. His piercing amethyst eyes staring at Satoru. Lips parted into a smile.

Maybe Suguru is thinking about what Satoru is up to.

The thought makes his face red.

He whips his phone out, hope present in every movement. The snap of his phone opening almost echoes from the speed of the motion.

10:03pm: hey, how’s it going?

An absence of response is the only thing staring back at him.

“Shoko?” He drags out the last syllable of her name.

“Hm?” She lazily looks in his direction as they climb the stairs to Jujutsu High.

Satoru stops to lean back looking at the sky above them. A blanket of stars is cast over the blue horizon. If he squints, he thinks he can see Jupiter shining bright in the distance. His actions cause him to stumble. He reaches for Shoko to help with a slight yelp. 

“Where’s Suguru? I need him here right now.”

“It’s only been six hours. Are you going to throw yourself a pity party every day that he’s gone?”

A mixture of groans and pouts are all that escaped from him. Trudging up the stairs, he leans entirely on Shoko, who is unamused by his shenanigans. She pushes him off of her as soon as they reach the clearing. 

Shoko opens the door to their dorm building. Giving one last glance to the evening sky, he follows her inside.The creaking door accompanies her knowing tone. “How long are you guys going to ignore what’s between you two?”

A few minutes of silence follows and then Satoru’s heart sinks to his stomach. The question is exactly what he needs to achieve sobriety. If only she had asked the question an hour ago. “What’s that supposed to mean? We are best friends, Shoko.”

She raises an eyebrow, giving him a quizzical look. “It’s obvious, dude. I could start rattling off every time I’ve caught something between you two, but I won’t. Unless you want me to.”

Satoru is too stunned to speak. He just stands there, comically blinking in the doorway. His mouth goes dry. The effects of the alcohol are long gone.

Shoko crosses her arms, staring at him. Her voice is singsongy. “I am pretty sure I saw you guys holding hands last night.”

He is shocked at how she sees right through him. Shoko really does know everything and she knows exactly when to bring it up.

Too many lies are on his tongue, causing him to trip over his words. He can’t figure out what to say. Glancing around, he searches for an escape like an animal caught in a trap. Unfortunately for him, she is standing in the only path to his room.

“I, yeah, I think, well, I don’t remember really,” he mutters, avoiding eye contact. The floor seems mighty interesting now. Is that gum on his shoes? How did that get there? That sucks. His face burns.

“Pfft, Gojo,” she squints. “I was drunk, but not that drunk. Unlike you, I can handle my liquor. Plus, you weren’t even drinking that night.”

Redness creeps up Satoru’s neck like a growing vine taking over an old house. Embarrassment hangs stale in the air. It isn’t exactly a new feeling, but he isn’t used to feeling so exposed. No one else is supposed to know. Not even Suguru.

A sigh of relief comes when he remembers they are alone in the dorms this week. Grasping the threads of liquid courage, he decides to surrender. There wasn’t an easy way out of this.

“Okay, well,” he swallows thickly, rubbing the back of his neck. In a hushed voice, he continues. “Yeah. I, I don’t know. I’ve felt this way for a while, but I keep getting mixed signals.”

She stands still, arms still crossed, but she is offering for him to proceed if he wants. No pressure is placed on either of them. The room can breathe.

The truth is taking space, making Satoru feel completely vulnerable. The air feels tight as if it would snap if either of them pulled harder. His words slice through it cleanly. Now that his feelings are spoken truthfully, he can’t stop more from flowing. He doesn’t really even want to stop. Relief floods his body as he confesses more. It is a cleanse he didn’t realize he needed, though maybe the liquor did.

Opening the door to her dorm, she invites Satoru inside on the promise that he won’t get sick inside. He nods, and sits on the floor next to her bed with a pillow in his arms. She trails him, lighting a cigarette and heading for the balcony.

“He asked me to lay in bed with him instead of sleeping on the floor. He looked at me like I was the best thing he’d ever seen while we laid together. He was physically distant though. I don’t know. I can’t decide. When he fell asleep, his hand was extended like an invitation. I just wanted to know what it would be like to touch him. Then, he wouldn’t let me go.”

Satoru feels lighter now that his secret had landed on ears other than his own. A weight has been lifted off of his chest. The rush of holding Suguru’s hand comes back to him as he recalls the moment. Exposing the truth to oxygen, it lit like a fire. Morphos butterflies knot in his stomach. 

“Mmmm. Sounds like you two have a lot to discuss,” she muses with a monotone voice.

“I wanted to talk to him before he left for holiday, but I didn’t know what to say. It feels like something wants to be there, that it should be, but I don’t want to screw this up.”

A beat passes.

“But sometimes,” he swallows the doubt that was threatening to stop him from spilling the secrets that he held onto for so long. “Sometimes he looks at me like-”

“Like you put the planets in our galaxy?”

Aquamarine eyes blink at Shoko. A meek voice replies, “Yeah.”

The silence bothers Satoru’s ringing ears. “Shoko, what do I do?”

Her next words could shatter his heart like glass. He hopes that she’s aware of the trust he’s putting in her at this moment. In the same way Suguru snaps shut like a turtle, Satoru will too if she says the wrong thing.

She gives it a minute, letting the tension settle like boiling water. “I think you’ve both got a lot to unpack. It sounds like he might be confused, Satoru. You might want to give him some time.”

Looking like a lost puppy, Satoru’s eyes are filled with tears. He feels his bottom lip quiver.

“You’re kind of pathetic. All I’m saying is don’t push him. I don’t think he’s ready. He may not have come to terms with it himself, you know?

He stares at the ceiling as if it held the answers he was seeking. Apparently Shoko isn’t hiding them.

“Do you really think it’s that obvious?” Satoru drunkenly laments

Shoko turns to face him, leaning against the railing. “Yep.” She pops the ‘p’ sound pointedly.

Satoru groans, covering his face with the pillow he holds captive. “Why me?

Rolling her eyes, Shoko turns back to face the luscious green forest outside of her room. She inhales as if she was going to answer, but stops midway, biting her tongue. Instead of an answer meeting her lips, the tobacco does.

Satoru leaned up, asking what that was about. It is not like Shoko to hold something back. After a minute of silence, he tilts his head, staring at the healer. Waiting on a response, his gaze shifts to the world behind her.

Summer is Satoru’s favorite time of year. The cicadas serenading them and the fireflies lighting up the night makes him warm inside. The way the stars are visible most nights also makes him cherish summer night skies. He longs for Suguru though. His mind always goes back to him, debating whether Suguru liked summer or winter better. He is pretty sure Suguru would choose winter. Opposites attract.

A second wave of the alcohol’s effects hit the strongest sorcerer. The room starts to spin again, similar to how his thoughts in their consistent spiraling. His stomach churns as nausea taps the back of his throat. He leans back onto the floor, hoping that staring at the unmoving ceiling would help

It doesn’t.

Shoko sharply inhales, pulling Satoru out of his mind. This time she puts effort behind her point. Satoru forgot that he had asked her a question. He wants his mind to focus on her words, but he is too drunk, and swimming in a sea of unfinished thoughts.

“I know what it’s like to be nervous about admitting feelings for someone of the same sex. I am concerned that's part of the situation here.”

When he doesn’t respond for a minute, Shoko looks in his direction. Satoru had fallen to his side, clutching a pillow in between his long arms. He is drooling, but somewhat conscious.

“Satoru!” She claps her hands to gain his attention.

Startled, he glares at her. The sudden noise jolted him and caused his head to pound. He feels sick from the liquor.

"Is this your coming out story?” He slurs, words covered in drunk humor.

“Do you want my advice or not?”

Satoru shifts so he was laying on his side with his back facing her.

She throws a pillow at him. “Shut up and go to bed. Remember that you promised not to puke in here.”

He needs no further instruction. He pulls an extra blanket from underneath her bed and grabs the pillow she threw at him. Once he is satisfied with his makeshift bed, he sighs. Dorm room floors were perfect for drunken night rests and movie nights, Satoru thinks. If only Suguru were here this time. He lets the liquor lull him to sleep while his mind drifts to dark hair, amethyst eyes, and a smile reflecting the light of the sun in the summer season.

Chapter Text

Suguru

August 20th, 2006

On Sunday morning, Suguru wakes up in his childhood bedroom. For a minute, he forgets that he had come home for the festival with his mom. The light green walls of his childhood room take him off guard as he blinks, searching for the posters in his dorm.

Right, I’m home.

On the wall next to his bed a few large windows sit that are bringing in the morning light. On the opposite side a large bookshelf holds a few humanity books he begged his parents to get for his birthday a few years back. A silly request from a pre-teen, but it didn’t surprise either of them. Suguru has always been passionate about human studies.

Rolling over, Suguru grabs his phone to check the time. A couple of notifications are present on the screen, a missed call and a text from Satoru. An icon alerts him that he also has a voicemail, presumably from the same person. Setting the phone on his ear, drunk words slur through the speaker.

“Sugu,” his name is cut off as if Satoru had forgotten the rest. “Shoko and I went out and I forgot my limit; I actually don’t know if I ever knew what it was, but I am really drunk right now. Ughhh. Why did you forget to take me with you? Where are you again? When are you coming back?”

A minute of silence before the rambling continues.

“Shoko is going to be so mad. Ugh, I think I vomited in her room.”

Suguru chuckles. Shoko is definitely going to be pissed. He feels bad for both of them. Shoko’s wrath is not something that Satoru wants to be in line of.

Before he could finish the voicemail of Satoru’s rambling, a knock comes on the door.

“Suguru-kun, are you awake?”

“Yeah, you can come in.” Suguru shuffles out of bed, throwing the comforter on in the fastest fashion he could. 

His mom comes from around the corner, hands covered with hot pads, outstretched for a hug.  “I am just so glad that you’re home my son.”

Suguru returns the love, wrapping his small mom into a big hug. “I am happy to be home, too.”

Most of the day is spent how Suguru anticipated it would be; making food for the workers of the village for the festival like the old days. The entire community works together to put on this event annually for each other and the tourists it attracts. It is one of his favorite events of the year and one he promised himself he would make time to spend with his family every time it came around.

“How is school going?”

Suguru’s mother is standing over a large bowl on the counter, tossing flour into a tan mixture. Her short hair is tied back into a low bun tied at the base of her neck. She is wearing an apron that is covered with stains from years spent in the kitchen, making her family’s favorite treats. A sweet aroma flows through the small space. Noises from the oven, a mixer, and the tapping of metal against ceramic glass hums a symphony as they work

The kitchen is small but fits their family perfectly. Where his mom stands is a counter next to the stove and sink. To her right, shoji walls lead out to a small patio outside their home, which is decorated with a two person patio table and an old patio chair that as a child, Suguru used to sit at the table with his parents when he wanted to feel like an adult. His mom preferred to keep things as they were before he left. The empty nest is waiting for him to return, even though she knows he’s likely not going to change his mind. It’s not a conversation that Suguru wants to have, letting her know that he’s going to be staying in Tokyo for the rest of his life. The fact sways through the air underneath his words of “I love Jujustu High” and “this is what I was born to do”. He loves his parents too much to shatter their hopes of maybe someday he’ll come home.

When he does talk about school, her support for him is apparent through the words of encouragement that come from her speech. Sorrow fills her eyes, but she still holds a smile

In the middle of the room stands a small table where Suguru is pouring sweet rice flour into a bowl. Like his mom, his hair is pulled back into a low bun. She pinned Suguru’s bangs back to ensure that he wouldn’t get any stray hairs in the food. His apron is pretty clean aside from a small amount of matcha powder that was dusted on it. His mom tasked him with making mochi, her least favorite item to make. Suguru takes the challenge with pride, excited that she trusts him enough to make everyone’s favorite dessert.

Suguru’s mind drifts to Satoru. He truly would have loved to be here, although he would probably have consumed all of the sweets before they had a chance to make it out the door. Suguru laughs at the thought of the white haired sorcerer trying to snatch the sweets that Suguru tries to hold over his head. Unfortunately for Suguru, Satoru’s long arms would absolutely be able to sneak food from the tray no matter how high he held it.

“Suguru-kun? Did you hear my question?”

Suguru’s head snaps towards his mom, face slightly red. “Uh, no, sorry. What did you say?”

She turns to squint her eyes at him. Crinkles reach the edges of her mouth as she fights off a smile. “Someone on your mind?”

His face becomes even more crimson as he realizes she has caught on. He swears his mom always knows what he is thinking about. Not that Suguru ever did, but if he tried to sneak something past her, it wouldn’t work. To her, he’s as transparent as a spring roll paper. Perhaps he just wears his thoughts on his face. He looks down, avoiding her gaze. “Ah, I was just thinking about Satoru. He loves desserts.”

“Mmm,” she muses. She clicks her tongue and turns her attention back to the task at hand.

Suguru’s breathing becomes slightly uneven. He focuses on counting the spoons of sugar he is dropping into the bowl, trying to keep his mind in check. This is a task that is too simple to mess up. Without moving his head, he glances at her, hoping for a response that would break his anxiety. The beat of the mixer is keeping him from losing his mind in the wait for her to say something.

“You guys are getting close, huh?”

“Yes, we are kind of inseparable.” He has never had any interest in lying to his parents. Trust is of utmost importance to his relationship with his parents and Suguru isn’t going to let anything, even his fear, get in the way of that.

Silence suddenly fills the room after the click of the mixer being turned off. With a towel in her hands, she turns to face her son. “I’m glad you found someone who means so much to you.” A heartfelt smile is on her face, reaching her eyes. Creases were hinting at the corners.

A tidal wave of relief washes over Suguru. “Me too.”

---------

When Suguru was scouted by Jujutsu High, it became a secret that he had to keep between him and himself only while he decided. The opportunity was packed with excitement, nerves, and a lot of questions from his parents. It took quite a bit of convincing, but they eventually caved in seeing his passion for the work.

After the acceptance settled, the guilt came along. He had to lie about his current studies to his close friends and neighbors, but it was for not only his best interest, but his parent’s as well. 

Due to the high stress and commitment of being a sorcerer, Suguru hasn’t been able to stop by his village to greet anyone but his parents since last year’s event. Anxiety buzzes in the air while he prepares for the event, walking around his room practicing what he’s going to explain to the villagers when he sees them.

Suguru’s mom surprised him with a new yukata for this year’s event. The cloth is dark blue with maroon and white dragons embroidered in it. He smiles while he rubs his hands over the smooth material. He can’t remember if she knows about his dragon, but if she doesn’t, that might make it sweeter. She picked out a maroon obi to match. It is perfect.

His mom insists on doing his hair, like old times. She ties the top part back with a blue kanzashi, leaving the bottom straight. He gives her a small bow and thanks her before picking up the desserts and heading to the party.

The festival is lively, as always. Every year it seems to grow, seeing more and more tourists through the streets of his small village. Seas of dancers wearing white and blue yukata make their way through the streets performing with large smiles on their faces. Kids are running through the streets of the small town, chasing each other with paper dragon puppets. Suguru smiles at the sight as he nearly dodges the children. The desserts in his hands teeter back and forth, threatening to jump off of the platter he’s holding. 

He stops at every worker’s tent offering treats from his and his mom’s hard work. Everyone is as grateful to see him as they are to be offered food. Bows, smiles, and thank yous are exchanged the entire evening of the festival.

“Hey, Suguru!” A familiar voice shouts through the busy road.

Suguru turns around, searching for a familiar face. His eyes land on an old friend from middle school, who’s running to him with arms open. He takes a small step back, hoping to lessen the impact of their collision. 

“Akiko, please don’t knock into me! The food–” His words are cut off by the young woman coming to an abrupt stop in front of him.

The girl is wearing a pink and maroon yukata with sakura blossoms printed on it. Her long obsidian hair flows over her shoulders with curtain bangs caressing her face. Her hands are held together now in front of her chest. A slight pink blush is settled on her face, presumably from the activity she just partook in. “Sorry, I am just excited to see you! You look great, Suguru! How’s school going? I miss seeing you around!”

The excitement radiates off of her. It’s almost visible underneath the dark skies that are only being lit from yellow lanterns that are strung through the town.

“It’s good, school is good. How about you? How are your adventures?” Suguru was quick to deflect the questions. The village will quickly be set on fire with rumors about his current endeavors and that was something he truly wanted to avoid. Even though it’s been two years, Suguru is certain that gossip still spreads like wildfire here.

“Oh you know, it’s alright. Swimming season is almost over, so it’s pretty busy right now. I’m kind of relieved it’s coming to a close because my family, as you know, really wants me to focus on studies.”

“Yeah, I remember. Are they still as strict as before?”

“Kind of,” she kicks dirt with her foot, looking at the ground. “They’re letting me explore a little bit more since I’m halfway through high school now. I’m sure it’ll get better with time.”

Akiko is one of the few friends, well one of the two friends Suguru cares to keep in contact with from his hometown. They attended every year of school together from year one. She didn’t live too far from him, so they spent a lot of summers together at the parks and on the beach. Oftentimes her family would take him on their local summer vacations which usually were to Ine, as her family enjoyed water activities. Suguru learned how to fish over these years and even though he didn’t use the skill anymore, it was fun to use in games such as two truths and a lie. Satoru fell for it a few times, not believing that Suguru would be someone who enjoyed such an ‘old person hobby’.

“I hope it does. Where are they now?”

She points to an area behind her by the stream that splits the town. “They’ve got a spot back there to view the fireworks. I’m not sure if anyone but my grandparents are there right now because when I left, my siblings were trying to drag my parents to the games. Where’s your family? Working?”

“Yeah, my mom’s handing out food and my dad’s probably monitoring the event. He’s on call in case something goes down,” he smiles. The food in his hands is starting to get uncomfortable to hold. “Do you want to walk with me? I haven’t made it to everyone yet.”

A large smile presents itself on her face. “I’d love to.”

The rest of the event is spent with Akiko filling Suguru in on what’s been going on in the village, small towns seem to always have the most amount of drama. Suguru isn’t one to enjoy talking about rumors, but he doesn’t know what else he can discuss with Akiko. His life has changed from normal child activities to being focused on curses, techniques, jujutsu, and fighting. Things that he can’t discuss with anyone but those inside of the community. It’s isolating, but exhilarating in its own way.

As they walk through the lively festival, Suguru thinks about how many of the people here have been saved by him and his peers without even knowing. He wonders if any of the children here are like him, seeing monsters in the corners where others can’t.

Maybe we’ll be working together someday.

Once the snacks have all been taken, Akiko brings him back to her family who are elated to see him.

“Suguru-kun! It’s so lovely to see you! Please, sit with us!

Suguru offers a bow and accepts the invitation to spend time catching up with her family. He sits on the blanket they have spread out next to Akiko and her siblings. As expected, the questions of ‘what have you been up to?’ and ‘how’s Tokyo?’ arise from her parents. The phrases he practiced flow out of his mouth smoothly like the water flowing in the stream behind him. A slight awkwardness stands between him and her family, but he tries to push through it. He supposes it's a normal obstacle when you haven’t seen a family in a few years. That and the fact that he’s lying to them about every part of his current life.

Twilight arrives soon enough, so Suguru bows and returns to find his family. “It was nice seeing all of you. I hope to see you all again soon.”

“Bye Suguru! Please don’t be a stranger,” Akiko hugs him gently.

“Same to you,” he waves before heading out to find his parents to enjoy the fireworks with.

---------

August 21st-25th 2009

The rest of the week with his family flew by quickly. Suguru spent most of his time with his parents, since their time was already so short, but when they were at work, he studied and spent his solitude on the beach that was a short walk from home.

The ocean reminded him of Satoru, causing him to remember that he never finished the voicemail that Satoru had left. Pulling out his phone, he realizes that the message was accidentally deleted. Odd. Not sure how that happened.

He checks his texts, which are also empty. Maybe Satoru was just giving him space? He hoped he was at least enjoying his time off of missions. Knowing Satoru though, he was probably bored and about to gnaw his arm off. He needed a job like a working dog. He’d pace and pace until his paws were bloody, and then pace some more.

Suguru opens their chat only to realize that he never responded to Satoru’s text.

Shit. That’s gotta sting. I'm not going to hear the end of that one.

1:32pm: Hey, hope your week was good.

The message sends with a satisfying swoop before Suguru closes his phone. He takes one last look at the ocean, before heading back home.

Departing from his parents gets harder every time he leaves. His mom sends him with a batch of sweets that she had made after the festival to share with Satoru and a container of onigiri for Suguru. When she handed him the food, she poked him in the ribs and told him he needs to make sure he’s eating. He comforts her, telling her that she did a great job at raising him, in fact he cooks the most out of everyone, and he does eat, training is just very intense at Jujutsu High.

His mom waves him off at the train station, asking him to please come back soon. As he steps away, he makes sure to tell her that her thoughtfulness is greatly appreciated. Satoru was going to be thrilled. He can’t wait to see his eyes light up from the sugar rush.

----------

When Suguru arrives back at Jujutsu High School, the group of students are in a heated match of baseball on the field. The summer humidity is starting to let up which invited the sorcerers to play outside more often. The card decks could wait until winter to be dusted off.

Satoru is up to bat. His white hair peeks out from underneath a helmet that’s a little too big for him. All of the players are wearing white pants with blue and white baseball jerseys. Sapphire eyes are locked on Utahime, who is ready to throw a pitch his way. Shoko, Nanami, and Haibara stand in the outfield. All of the outfield players seem to notice his arrival, but neither of the two who were engaged on the ball have seen him yet. None of the outfield players are on any bases. Confused, Suguru watches the game with his hands full of the snacks and his overnight bag.

Utahime throws a curve ball hard and fast. Concentration is constructed all over her face. She is doing her best to throw Satoru off but unfortunately for her, he is not falling for it. Satoru’s movements are sharp and precise, just like his jujutsu techniques. A crack splits through the air when the bat makes contact with the baseball.

The object hits the sand with a loud thud. Sneakers slide past it as Satoru takes off for the base.

Utahime waves at Suguru, who now realizes what her plan is. “Hey, welcome back Suguru!”

A devious smile spreads across her lips. She knows exactly what she is doing.

Satoru slides in the sand, hand catching himself before barely missing a fall. He twists and locks eyes on Suguru. 

Suguru tenses as a bullet of white hair comes racing towards him. He barely has time to think before they collide. He can't seem to escape people tackling him. Is that just a vibe he gives off?

"Please take your helmet off before you–”

Satoru launches himself into Suguru’s arms that are still full of the food his mom sent back with him. The harmony of their laughter twists together in the air. The containers fall out of his hands that are now around his best friend, holding him off the ground while stumbling backwards to keep himself up. Suguru’s heart is racing and he couldn’t decide if it was due to the tackle or how close he is to Satoru.

“Suguru, I am so glad you’re back.” Satoru’s voice is laced with a serene excitement. A red indent was on his forehead from the helmet he had removed before colliding with the sorcerer.

“We won!” Utahime’s voice shrieks through the field. She runs to the other players, pulling them into a group hug.

Releasing Suguru from the death grip he has on him, Satoru falls to his feet. His hands immediately become in the shapes of fists as if he is looking for a fight. “Hey, that’s cheating!”

Suguru grips Satoru’s wrist, gently holding him back from releasing rage on Utahime. “Satoru,” he purrs. “I’m glad to be back.” His violet eyes look at Satoru, hoping he stays for a little longer.

It works.

Satoru’s features soften in the sunlight. His shoulders drop as the tension melts away, as if everyone else drifted away too. “How was your trip?

“It was lovely. The festival was incredible, as always. I miss my village and I feel refreshed. I think you should come next year.” 

Suguru was not planning on saying the last part, but he couldn’t stop himself. Satoru’s warm sapphire eyes were begging for affirmation, and Suguru loved nothing more than seeing his eyes sparkle after he received it.

A slight crimson creeps onto Satoru’s cheeks as he realizes what Suguru offered. He opens his mouth to reply, but no words come out. Seeing Satoru speechless is not something that he is used to, but is a proud accomplishment he adds to the ongoing list of achievements he’s stacked up.

“Yeah, yeah,” he finally stutters. “I would love to.”

“Have you ever been to a small festival?”

Even though festivals are fairly common in Japan, Satoru’s childhood seemed to be more on the strict, less fun side. Suguru assumes that his parents sent him to the larger events for networking purposes, but the more intimate community festivals that Suguru attended as a child were more neighborhood based. Now, tourists have discovered them so they’re larger than they used to be, but they’re still vastly different from the parties that are held in Tokyo.

“Not anything like you’ve described. I think it would be really fun.”

"You’re welcome to as long as you don’t eat all of the sweets before we get to the festival.”

“Oh, I don’t think I can make any promises to that, but you already extended the invitation, so there’s nothing you can do to stop me from coming!”

There isn’t any reason he could think of for not inviting Satoru next year. If he happens to consume all of the treats, Suguru will figure something else out. Him being there is more important than the food showing up. His mom might have a different opinion, though.

After picking up the dropped items, the duo makes their way to the group of four victors. Utahime is still boasting about their win. Even if it was by cheating, she doesn't care as long as she brings home a victory over Satoru.

Satoru doesn’t seem to mind this time, though.

“Shoko took me to an arcade bar while you were gone. Even though I was completely wasted, I obliterated the previous high score on Pac-man. I don’t think anyone is going to be able to beat that.”

Suguru laughs. “I think you might be surprised. Some people dedicate their entire lives to arcade games. You’re too busy playing Digimon for that. Besides, I am really good at that game. Maybe I’ll be the one to top your score.”

“You want to test that theory?”

“You’re on, Satoru.” Suguru leans back, smirking at his opponent. Satoru is throwing an equivalent smile his way, looking over his sunglasses in the way that drives Suguru mad. The  icy blade of his eyes pierce Suguru’s chest, who gladly accepts his fate.

“Yeah,” Shoko stretches out the final syllable she continues, “I’m taking the winner’s side.” She points to the strongest sorcerer.

This only builds his already inflated ego. “Huh, she is always right.”

Nanami and Haibara happen to be behind the dark haired opponent, which according to Satoru, means they are automatically on his side. Utahime loudly proclaims that she is not competing this time. She wants to ride the high of winning against Gojo for once.

“So, what am I winning?” Satoru shoots them a knowing smile, stretching his hands behind his head.

“I want a massage!” Shoko blurts.

Behind Suguru, Nanami groans.  “You’re seriously agreeing to this for all of us?”

His senior ignores him before answering Satoru. “I’ll treat you to a meal. Anything you want.”

“Deal!” Their opponents answer in unison.

The group heads to the dorm building so Suguru can unpack while the rest of the students get ready for the competition. Satoru and Suguru walk side by side, catching each other up on their few days apart. Suguru gifted the desserts from his mom to Satoru, who was already digging into the container. Suguru reached over to take one, but Satoru swatted his hand away as if he were a parasite.

“My mom gave me those!”

“Yeah, but you said she made them for me! Plus, I’m sure you got to enjoy them while you were at the festival. All I got was too many cocktails from Shoko.”

Although it is sitting on the back of his lungs, Suguru doesn’t address the drunken voicemail. That is until he remembered that Satoru said he vomited in Shoko’s room.

“Oh, was Shoko pissed at you when you vomited in her room?”

Satoru stops dead in his tracks. His head is tilted to the side as he blankly stares at Suguru. “Who told you about that?”

Shit. He clearly doesn’t remember the phone call.

Suguru rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, you left me a voicemail the night before the festival.”

“And you never called me back?” His voice is thick with frustration.

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t. I’m sorry, Satoru.”

Crossing his arms, Satoru stares at him with his cobalt eyes. “You didn’t text me back either. Can’t believe you’d do that to me.”

“Can you forgive me? I brought you treats and I didn’t take even one the entire train ride.

“Perhaps. Maybe if you give me all of the sweets and let me take the victory tonight, you’ll win me back.

“Well, I think Nanami would be mad at me if I did that. I doubt he wants to give Shoko a massage. Do you really need another ego boost?”

The glare he receives is as sharp as a knife. Still, Suguru laughs. He lifts his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, you can have all of the sweets I brought. How’s that?”

He receives a mumble of a response. “Yeah, that might work.”

----------

“Why is he forcing you to carry around a camera all summer?”

Shoko is standing in the fading sun, a light pink from the sunset is radiating off of her school uniform. Her arms are crossed with a cigarette in her hand. The air is starting to shift from summer to fall, which she doesn’t mind, except for the incoming cool temperatures. She prefers smoking outside in the crisp weather to the humidity, but there is a fine line.

Suguru doesn’t mind either way, as long as he can get some relief through the tobacco. He had gotten into the habit after consuming the retched taste of cursed spirits. He tells everyone that the tobacco leaves a better taste in his mouth than the spirits. Sure, gum was easier, but it gives him an excuse to exit crowded situations if he so chooses, which he prefers to do quite frequently.

“I don’t know,” Suguru shrugs. “It’s just something that means a lot to Satoru.”

Standing across from her in the shadow of the looming arcade, the teenage boy pulls a drag off of the cigarette. In his opposite hand is a disposable camera that the students had been passing around. Suguru rotates the object in his hand, inspecting the simple thing. Light from the sign hanging on the arcade shines off of the silver band of the camera.

Satoru had explained to Suguru that scrapbooking was suddenly important to him. He handed the object to Suguru as if it was a sacred item of worship. The memories are something that belongs to him and only him, but the photos are irreplaceable and unforgettable. Suguru feels responsible for keeping his promise to help him achieve his goal.

Shoko lets the smoke dissipate before responding. “Just surprises me. He doesn’t seem like the sentimental type.”

Suguru shrugs. “I think he hides a lot of himself.”

The silence causes his face to burn. Maybe he shouldn’t have spilled Satoru’s secrets

“You going to take photos of us smoking then?” Shoko poses for the camera.

Chuckling, Suguru captures her in the frame. “He’ll love that one.”

The pair enters the arcade bar, joining up with their respective teams for the battle. Satoru is busy warming up his fingers for the ‘big event’ while Nanami and Haibara are chatting at the bar counter. Suguru laughs to himself as he makes note that the two younger students are  avoiding Satoru’s presence altogether.

“Got a cute picture for your collection,” he offers the camera back to his opponent.

Smiling, Satoru stops his finger exercise to accept it. “I can’t wait to see it. Maybe I’ll go get this processed right after I beat you.”

“Sure, Satoru. Best of luck.”

Bright blue eyes greet him, joined with a wide lopsided grin.

Something in Suguru’s chest seizes, caught between the sky and the ocean. His feet are dangling in the empty space, but fear isn’t present here.

Haibara grabbed his arm, pulling him down to the sand from the purgatory. “Let’s go! Nanami found us two games!”

The two end up playing on vintage gaming consoles. Suguru on one side, Satoru on the opposite. Haibara is loudly cheering Suguru on in the heated match. Nanami is standing behind Suguru to the right, staring with a stoic expression no matter how he is doing.

Suguru ends up losing, barely, but he does.  Satoru and Shoko cheer, high fiving. 

“Who’s giving me that massage?” Shoko sings, peering around the machines at the three of them.

Satoru chooses a simple burger restaurant for his prize. He orders seven burgers and a side of fries, while Shoko orders a couple for herself. She proudly leans against her seat while Nanami and Haibara rub her shoulders. Satoru devours the food, teasing Suguru about his loss.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I won’t live that one down.”

Satoru laughs with his mouth full of food. “No you definitely won’t. I’ll be teasing you about that for the rest of our lives.”

The rest of their lives together sounded like a melody to Suguru’s ears. He will happily accept being mocked by Satoru as long as it is forever.

Chapter Text

Shoko 

August 28th, 2006

Yesterday, Tengen-sama assigned Satoru and Suguru a mission to protect and deliver the Star Plasma Vessel, Amani Riko, to them safely. Tengen-sama protects the entire school, ensuring that the barriers to Jujutsu High won’t fall. They need a new vessel and Amani Riko is the only compatible vessel available. If Tengen-sama doesn’t get a new human form, they are inevitably going to evolve into a cursed-like state with the potential to eradicate all of humanity.

Getting assigned this mission was “a bit of a big deal” according to Satoru. He called to explain it to her, bragging about how Tengen-sama could only trust him and Suguru to take this task on. They were already in Tokyo, and were being sent to Okinawa today. On the phone, she could hear Suguru in the background reminding him to be less egotistical.

Shoko is admittedly a little jealous that all of the other sorcerers are going on a little vacation but on the other hand, the dorm building is now just for her and Utahime to share. She is looking forward to the privacy and welcomes the absence of chaos from the other students, but mostly Satoru.

“Did you hear it’ll just be us here for at least twenty four hours?

Shoko is lying on her stomach, head resting in her hands on Utahime’s bed. She is watching her partner who is sitting at her desk, coloring in an old sketchbook she had found during her most recent room cleanout

Utahime’s head rose to make eye contact with her. “Is that so? No annoying Satoru for a full twenty four hours?”

“Mhm. The boys are going to Okinawa for their mission and I heard Nanami and Haibara are joining, too.”

“Sounds like they have got an intense mission,” she mumbles. “Do you have any plans for us?” Along with her words, a sweet smile joins. One that makes Shoko’s stomach do excited flips.

“Tons, actually. A whole twenty four hours with just us? I had to scheme some surprises. You’ll just have to see.”

“I can’t wait.” 

Rising to her feet, she walks over to the bed where Shoko lays. Taking a seat next, she leans over her shoulder peeking at the magazine in her hands. “You read baseball magazines?” Her voice is shrill with disbelief. “Since when? I thought you were only into fashion!

Shoko laughs, setting the magazine on the bed. “Yeah, I figured I should try to learn more about the hobbies that you’re into, you know, since we are dating.

Her girlfriend’s blush deepens, making Shoko’s heart palpitate like a rabbit’s that is being chased by a predator. Her brown eyes pull Shoko in without any hesitation. Surprised by the sudden anxiety, words tumbled out of her mouth as she tried to cover her nerves.

“Look, I want to make sure that when I take you to a baseball game, I know what’s going on -

She is cut off by a kiss from her girlfriend. Electric excitement flows throughout her entire body as their lips meet. Her touch is soft and gentle, and better than Shoko expected.

Her eyes flutter open when she pulls away. Their faces are inches apart; breath exchanging between the two of them. Shoko smiles first, influencing her dark haired counterpart to do the same. Dilated pupils meet her eyes, then look down to her lips again. Shoko leans in, initiating another kiss. This time, it was deeper and more intense. One of her hands rested on top of Utahime’s, skin vibrating with anticipation.

After a few more exchanged kisses, they pull away from each other, breathing heavily. Heat spreads between the pair as their hearts race in synchronicity. 

Hesitancy still took up space between the two of them, but not in a discouraging way. They agreed to move forward slowly in their relationship, as Utahime is pretty wary of being discovered. Shoko is very confident in herself and her sexuality, but she doesn’t want to push her partner outside of her comfort zone.

“That was nice,” Shoko breathlessly whispers, blinking up at Utahime. She nods in response, smiling at her. Their foreheads are touching as they stare into each others’ eyes, one waiting for the other to make the next move. 

Utahime reaches up and tucks Shoko’s brown hair behind her ear. “I can’t believe you are studying for events with me,” she whispers, glancing down at her lips.

The movement makes Shoko’s breath hitch. This is yet another new feeling that the other girl makes her feel. Shoko didn’t think that anxiety was part of her vocabulary until Utahime arrived in her life. With every step confidence landed, no matter where she went. Her family always teased her about being ‘too headstrong’ and ‘scaring people away’. She let the comments roll off of her back. If someone wasn’t going to accept her for who she is, why keep them around?

The way that Utahime peels Shoko’s layers that even she didn’t know she had away, it’s exhilarating and Shoko can’t wait to see what happens next.

 She thinks about the way Utahime’s lips felt against hers. The heat that spread between them. The way the enlarged pupils in her brown eyes consumed her whole.

“I definitely will continue to if it will win me a kiss.”

Leaning forward so that their lips are an inch apart, Utahime whispers “you’ll just have to find out.”

---------

August 29th, 2006 

The day that Nanami and Haibara joined Suguru and Satoru on their trip, Shoko rose earlier than normal to prepare a special breakfast for her girlfriend. It was a simple, but a thoughtful gesture. Shoko isn’t bad at cooking, but it isn’t her forte either. Aside from Nanami and Suguru, she’s the third best cook. By default, the best one currently present.

Shoko ends up making steamed vegetables, rice, and a couple of eggs, with a side of nori. Utahime is going to be so pleased

In the communal kitchen, everyone has their own dishes, food, and supplies. They try to eat together as often as possible, but each year typically has a different schedule from the others, so more often than not, Shoko ate with Suguru and Suguru. Shoko pays close attention to Suguru’s cooking skills, hoping to pick up a thing or two, while Satoru tends to just watch Suguru, rather than the techniques he uses. His eyes are like saucers when he looks at Suguru. It reminded her of someone seeing the mountains for the first time, except this happens every time he looks at Suguru.

Reaching into the cabinet, she pushes past Satoru’s stupid Digimon bowl and grabs Utahime’s. Her girlfriend’s is a red ceramic bowl with a gold crane design etched into the sides. The red reminds her of the bow her partner would occasionally wear in her long dark hair. She loves the way it brings out the blush in her face when Shoko teases her.

Once the dishes are fully prepared, she makes her way to the room they shared the night before. Shoko was ecstatic that Utahime said yes to spending the night with her. “We can even sleep on our own mattresses on the floor,” she explains. “I just really want to have a sleepover.”

It didn’t take much for Utahime to agree. She didn’t require Shoko to bring her futon in the room, mentioning that it was too much effort, they could just share the bed. They stayed up for most of the night laying on a pile of blankets, sharing salty snacks and chatting with a movie on in the background.

There’s something more intimate about being in a relationship with another woman versus dating a man. Shoko was never interested in trying to date a man, but from friends who had, she feels like she’s heard enough. Last night, in the dark room with only the soft glow of the television guiding them through the night, Utahime unveiled a new level of vulnerability that Shoko hadn’t seen yet. The trust that she puts in her feels like a responsibility that only she can bear, and she’s grateful to be one who is honored with it

Shoko really wants to kiss her again, but since their first conversation about wanting to go slow, they haven’t reconvened yet. Shoko is willing to hold back and let Utahime guide the relationship. She’s looking forward to the day when she’s ready, but she will happily accept the stolen glances she gets in the meantime.

They got lucky and were able to avoid classes the next day. With the rest of the students out, their lectures were rescheduled until they returned. Shoko told Yaga she planned to study and Utahime lied to Mei the same. Shoko figured they both knew that the girls just wanted a day off, but either way she was grateful for the approval. The two needed a quiet day together like they needed oxygen.

Once she arrives in Utahime’s room, she notices the aftermath of their activities last night. The floor is covered in popcorn that Shoko couldn’t catch in her mouth from Utahime’s tosses. She’s going to throw a fit about that, she thinks as she carefully avoids stepping on any of it. A console remote lays on the desk next to the television that is still on. The muted movie is on a consistent loop of the menu screen, waiting for someone to hit play to release it from its stagnant state.

The soft silk comforter grazes her skin as it sinks underneath her. She is hoping the scent of warm food wafting in from the cracked door will be enough to jolt her partner awake. Her fingers gently comb through dark black hair as she waits for her to wake up. 

Utahime rolls towards her, hair sticking in every direction. Her eyes slowly open, peering at Shoko. She stretches, mumbling a ‘good morning’. Her voice is swollen with sleep

“Hey, sleepyhead. I made breakfast.”

Her brown eyes shoot open when she hears that food was ready. “You made me breakfast? That was so kind of you.”

“Told you I had a surprise or two, didn’t I? I am a pretty decent cook.”

“I am sure you are,” Utahime agrees. Searching for her slippers, she gets off the bed and prepares to head to the kitchen. Before they exit the room, she grabs Shoko’s arm, pulling her in for a hug.

Shoko blinks, caught off guard, before returning the warm affection.

“Thank you, Shoko.”

---------

Later in the day, the two head into Tokyo for Shoko’s planned day together. Knowing how competitive her partner is, Shoko chose to have the date at an arcade so her partner could let out some of her steam. Although with the boys gone, her attitude has been genuinely more relaxed.

“Are you just not as aggressive when Satoru isn’t around or is it something else?” Shoko teasingly inquires, watching Utahime play skeeball. She decided to wear loose black pants with a red turtleneck and gold accessories. Shoko can’t take her eyes off of her girlfriend.

Shoko is leaning against the machine, an unlit cigarette in her mouth. Her counterpart’s tongue is sticking out on her expression of concentration and she doesn’t pull her eyes from her target until the game is over.

Once the round is finished, Utahime leans close to Shoko and answers, “You know how much his arrogance drives me nuts, Shoko.” Her name is drawn out. “For the record, I am always very competitive, just not as ruthless when he’s not around. I’ll let my guard down for you,” she winks.

Shoko laughs in response, throwing an arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders. “Lucky me. I think I can handle it.”

Shoko got to choose the next game.

A pool table stands in between the two. The arcade is busy and loud with disco lights dancing on the walls, even though it’s pretty early in the day. Music surrounds them booming through speakers on the ceiling. Shoko leans on her cue stick, eyes trailing Utahime’s pose.

Her partner is mid strike, putting all of her focus into her next move.

“I can’t focus with you looking at me like that,” Utahime quips with a bit of sass in her voice. She can’t hide the tug at her lips, causing a smile to land on her mouth.

Shoko leans closer to her partner, gaze falling to her lips. Utahime catches her stare. The distraction works, making her miss her target.

Utahime gasps when she sees her mistake. “Let me make a do-over!” She begs, blaming Shoko for the mishap.

Laughter filled the air. “You’re the one who messed up! Don’t put the blame on me.” Shoko’s hands are up in self defense.

The onyx haired girl glares at her, unable to hide her blushing face. Smirking, Shoko lets silence settle between the two. Satisfaction tugs at her lips.

She decides to let her partner win the billiards game. A kind gesture that she wouldn’t give to anyone else but her partner. Utahime deserves the ego boost.

“Nice job, babe,” she congratulates her with a smoky voice as Utahime’s final ball slides into the net.

Utahime cheers loudly, throwing her arms on her girlfriend’s shoulders. “You’re such a good sport! I totally obliterated you.”

Shoko giggles, returning the hug. This life is the one that she would be brave in. She will allow Utahime to lead, but this is the universe that she will show her how she feels. Only she gets to hear the laughter between Utahime’s affection and she will set the world on fire to keep it.

---------

August 30th, 2006

Suguru and Satoru’s trip was extended by a day, meaning Shoko and Utahime have a bit more time together than they had anticipated. Nanami and Haibara arrived back yesterday evening, but they haven’t been around much. Shoko presumes they’re focusing on studying, or maybe not, but she’s not really interested.

The sudden change of plans doesn’t impact the girls’ schedules; they still have class the second day, but even with having class, it is still peaceful to spend time with just Utahime.

The two are in the library, sitting across from each other. Two coffees accompany them, along with books and homework scattered on the table.

Shoko is kicking her feet, staring at a textbook that is confusing her. 

“Utahime,” she stretches the syllable out like gum. “Can you help me with this?”

Her girlfriend glances up at her without moving her head. Dark hair is framing her face, dangling in front of her brown eyes.

Heat spreads from Shoko’s stomach. She loves being under Utahime’s gaze. Her mouth curved into a sweet smile, the one that makes Utahime blush. 

Bingo. She knows how to get what she wants.

Shoko stretches her hand out across the table, reaching for her partner’s. She accepts, giving a small smile. “Sure honey, I can help you.”

Interrupting their moment, Yaga bursts into the room. Utahime jumps, pulling her touch away from her partner’s. Trying to cover for her, Shoko quickly thinks on her feet, propping her head in her hand, turning to him nonchalantly to ask what the rush was.

He seems mostly composed, aside from the panic written on his face. It is something he couldn’t hide. The sight makes Shoko’s skin crawl.

“Shoko, you are needed. Now.”

She gives him a weird look, eyebrow raised, hoping to pry more information out, but the principal doesn’t move. He just repeats the ‘now’ with a more sudden sense of urgency. She stands up, tells Utahime she’ll be back, and follows Yaga out of the building.

Once they are out of earshot of the other student, Yaga finally fills Shoko in. His pace speeds up as they start towards the medical building. Worry curls inside of Shoko’s stomach.  Nanami and Haibara had returned safely from their mission as backup for Satoru and Suguru, so she is sure this isn’t about them. She knows Utahime is safe. That leaves Satoru and Suguru on the mission with Amani.

Doubt lingers in the back of her mind. Satoru and Suguru being in danger? The thought doesn’t compute.

“Satoru was found on the brink of death near the entrance of the school,” his voice is low and hostile.

Her heart stutters. Her brain can’t keep up. She opens her mouth seeking answers, but words were absent.

“The team is searching for Suguru now. We also don’t know where Amani or Kuroi is. What we do know is that their mission was successful at least until they arrived on Jujutsu High ground. I don’t think the assimilation was performed.”

She tries to process the information that was said, but she can’t quite understand that Satoru and Suguru are in danger. As the strongest, the pair is always safe. Even though she had healed them a few times before, those two are an invincible team in her mind. Anything capable of piercing one of them affects them all. Tied together with an invisible string, they are bound to each other as their roots are deeply intertwined.

The hallway expands to the entrance of the school a few feet in front of her. Before her mind can catch up to what Yaga had just said, her eyes see what he was referring to.

To her left, the sharp anomaly of vast emptiness caught Shoko’s eye. She turns her head to get a better view of the mass destruction on the steps of Jujutsu High. The view takes her breath away.

All that stands is a circle of rubble surrounded by nothingness. The scene is engulfed in an amount of blood even she hasn’t seen before.

Her stomach drops

Surely, all of that cannot be from Satoru.

Yaga said he was on the brink of death, so he must still be alive. 

Realization shifts, settling somewhere deep within her.

This is real.

Satoru and Suguru actually had failed.

She feels her steps quicken as the space between her and the medical facility shortens.

Bursting inside, she immediately starts preparing her supplies. The space had been left in perfect organized condition, not in the ideal form for her to prepare for an emergency. She never thought the day would come where Suguru and Satoru would need this much help.

 Her mind is still trying to process the horrific scene she had just been exposed to. She walked past several items she needed for the treatment. Trying to gather her thoughts felt like hoping to catch butterflies with a glass jar.

The room is cold and sterile. The lights in the room hum providing the only thread of reality to grasp onto. The atmosphere of a mortuary, not of a place of safety.

Satoru is very much alive when she finally arrives at his side, prepared to provide the medical attention he needed. He is sitting up with his feet dangling over the gurney. His head is hanging low shielding his body from her view. From what she could see, he, like the buildings outside, is caked in his own blood.

He was able to master the reverse cursed technique, which ultimately saved his life. Shoko still treats him as if he hadn’t received any care.

“Satoru,” her voice is soft. “Can you lay down so I can examine your injuries?”

Yaga was right; at one point, he had been on the brink of death. Wounds mutilated the field of his body. He should have died given only a few hits. Part due to how little his body recognized pain, but also because the blows he was delivered were meant to kill instantly. His opponent was clearly incredibly prepared, as you had to be if you were going to challenge Gojo Satoru.

The light behind his eyes is completely gone. His eyes are half open, heavy lidded as if he would have to use all of his present energy to keep them open. She can barely get any words out of him.

“Hey, Satoru?” She lightly approaches, placing a hand on his arm. “Are you in any pain?”

Her eyes wander over him gently, as if he would come apart from the slightest glance

His blue eyes don’t move, but his lips do. “No, no, I feel great.”

His voice is frail, implying that he felt anything but. His gaze is fixed on the ceiling, hands rested on each side of himself. Chewing on her lip, she inspects him for any wounds he might have missed.

When she comes across the healing scar on his forehead, she realizes this is the spot where he focused all of his energy to stop himself from bleeding out. Words of praise die on her lips. Now is not the time, especially since she doesn’t truly know how lucky he is. No one knows where Suguru, Amani, or Kuroi are. The poison of the unknown lingers, waiting to be consumed

“Where’s Suguru?” His voice is tight, more urgent now, but his eyes are tightly closed

“I have not been informed.”

Debating on providing more information, she decides against it. The part of her training that focused on the emotional health of her patients reminded her to avoid causing distress, but she isn’t sure which would make him worry less. She doesn’t want to give him reason to panic by exposing the truth of them not knowing where his other half is, but she would want to know if in his place.

Her mouth goes dry at the thought of Suguru being in danger. If this was Satoru’s condition, she can’t bring herself to think about what Suguru's condition could be.

Her lips are tight as she leaves Satoru’s side, gathering paperwork to file. When she turns back around, he is on his feet, preparing to exit the infirmary. She opens her mouth to stop him, but bites her tongue. Satoru needs to go to Suguru’s side like the sun needs the moon. She knows how they orbit each other. Stopping him would be like asking the moon to stop pulling the waves.

“Satoru, please be safe. Someone will find him soon,” she quietly suggests, watching him leave the room. Her words land on deaf ears. She looks back to her work. Noting the time, she adds that in her description of his condition, preparing for the higher ups to have plenty of questions for her

The fear of Suguru’s condition stands behind her as if it in itself is a curse. She can’t shake the feeling. From across the room, she feels the morgue staring at her.

I hope this isn’t the day that I have to bury a friend.

--------

Shoko was right, it wasn’t long before Suguru was brought into the infirmary. As she expected, he arrived in much worse condition than Satoru. Hot tears well in her eyes as she watched him be rolled into her care. Blinking them back, she reminds herself that part of her job was to be detached. She can’t save everyone and needed to use days like this to prepare the emotions and fear of the inevitable days to come

A sigh of selfish relief is exhaled when she feels a pulse underneath her fingers. His condition is going to take a lot of work to heal from, and not from just her. Suguru is going to have a lot to mentally recover from.

The rest of the story comes along with his unconscious body. Yaga follows Suguru’s body in to give her the update as she begins to heal him. A hitman was hired to assassinate Amani as the Star Plasma Vessel, which she knew, that’s why Tengen-sama ordered the sorcerers to protect her. He entered the high school’s boundaries without cursed energy, as he had Heavenly pact and was therefore able to hide it. He waited until Satoru and Suguru were completely worn down to attack them. Shoko’s stomach churns as she envisions what the two had been through.

Yaga doesn’t have to explain that Amani is gone. The words are enough for her to understand what is unspoken. Shoko’s heart sinks like a rock at the bottom of the tides. She lice her dry lips, wanting to say something in response, but once again, she is unable to find the words

This kind of failure is uncharted territory for all of them

“Did Satoru leave on his own?” Yaga inquires.

Shoko stiffly nods. “He asked where Suguru was before heading out. I figured he would have come back with him. You didn’t see him?”

Yaga gives a firm shake of his head. “No, I don’t know where he is.”

Sighing, Yaga looks down upon Suguru’s unconscious, wounded body. His voice softens, but the weight is still present. Neither of them can determine how to work through it

“I will give you space to focus. Let me know if you need anything.

Upon arrival, Suguru was also on the brink of death, but keeping him alive was purposeful. If the attacker had wanted to, he definitely could have taken Suguru’s life. He had two major cuts across his chest forming an ‘x’ and some tender wounds to his face. 

Ultimately, it is unsurprising that their opponent’s main target had been Satoru. Her thoughts keep returning to how lucky the two are to still be alive, but guilt follows. A constant pattern of a circle of relief and misery.

After performing treatment, Shoko gives him some space. Time stretches as she waits for the treatment to work. Anxiety stands in the corner of the room now, shadowing her and Suguru. She can’t ignore the twists of her stomach while the seconds ticked by.

She returns to work on paperwork, barely pulling her emotions together. She wants to be anchored by the time Suguru wakes up so he can rely on her if he needs to. It is the least she could do.

Eventually, the sound of the hospital bed shifting causes her to look in the direction of his body. He now sits up on the hospital bed; a persistent expression of fear rests on his face. His eyes are hollow. Broken. Full of defeat. 

Shoko walks over to sit next to him, silently offering anything he needs.

If only she could reverse the trauma he experienced.

Neither of them say a word. Their shoulders touch as they stare at the floor. 

“There’s something I need to go take care of. Thank you, Shoko.” His voice shatters the silence as if it were permeable glass. Suguru stands up and heads to the door without another word.

It takes her a minute to realize he doesn’t know about Satoru’s state. She opens her mouth to provide relief, to let him know that Satoru is okay, but he flees the room before she could gather the words. He will find his other half soon enough, she determines. They will be able to work through it together, or at least she hopes.

Satoru

August 30th, 2006

Satoru returns to his dorm room after bringing Amani’s body to the mortuary. His body feels numb and his brain is swimming, struggling to stay afloat amongst the sea of intrusive thoughts. His head pounds and the room spun from the aftermath of today. He curses about the fact that Shoko can’t fix this pain. Opening the door, he stumbles, knocking the lamp off his table before falling into bed.

Darkness engulfs the room. It is well past evening now. Not even the moon provides light outside tonight. He glances at the fallen light, throwing it a middle finger before shifting so his back was to it. Failure let itself into the room after following him all day, now settling into the atmosphere of his previously safe space.

His success with executing Toji isn’t enough to redeem his ego. At that moment, the world felt incredible. At the time, he wasn’t angry about Amani’s death. Nothing could touch him. Now, rage licks underneath his skin as if it were a flame reaching a ceiling in a burning house. He is infuriated that the high from eliminating Toji wasn’t enough to even out his losses of the day. 

Every time he closes his eyes, Suguru’s expression of horror sticks to the back of his eyelids. Satoru stared at the blank wall to avoid the sickening sight. He tries to keep his eyes on the pattern of the paint on the wall. It appears as if whoever performed the job was very intent with their strokes. The paint is very well distributed.

Satoru sighs. This is fucking stupid.

His mind wanders to Suguru, wondering what he is thinking. A wave of nausea rolls through his stomach as the memories of his other half crash into his mind. Thinking of him alone, on the brink of death, watching Toji walk away made the sickness intense. Unable to hold it in, he reaches for the trash can, leaning down to empty the contents of his stomach into it.

The stillness of the room is overwhelming. His ears ring an overwhelming high pitched tone. It is too empty. Hardly managing to make it over to the window without knocking anything else over, he cracks it open, desperate for some fresh air. The rhythm of the cicada’s cadence breaks the silence and hums into the small room. The consistency is relieving to his senses. He clings to it as if it were his only lifeline in an endless forest of despair.

It feels as if claws have dug themselves into his psyche, pulling him under, refusing to release him. Leaning over the railing, hot tears slip from his burning eyes, dropping to the grass below. He covers his mouth for fear of his cries waking the other students.

The hot evening air makes it hard to catch his breath between sobs. Failure is not an experience he had been through before, but even so, he never thought it would be as bad as this is.

The flick of a light catches Satoru’s swollen, sore eyes. For a second, he forgets about his woes, willingly surrendering to the fear of being caught in a moment of vulnerability. He bites his lip as he realizes the glow is coming from Suguru’s room. 

His empty stomach churns again. There is no relief he could seek now, for vomiting wouldn’t even help. He hasn’t eaten today and he already disposed of his last meal into the trash can. The unnatural feeling of being sick bothers him. Is this what mortality felt like? He knows he isn’t a god, but Shoko can heal anything physical, so why wasn’t this going away? He even mastered the reversed curse technique, but still, this feeling won’t budge.

He sits on the balcony, leaning against the railing, letting the light illuminate his presence. Let someone see him out there. Any thoughts of care fled like a flock of birds. By now his tears are gone and his sobs have depleted. Maybe whoever finds him will think he just needs some fresh air. By ‘whoever’ he means Suguru, because no one else checks on him like he does.

Satoru debates going to Suguru’s room for comfort, but he doesn’t think he could look his best friend in the eyes without seeing the reflection of Amani in them. After the events of today, his only source of comfort is gone. He curses Toji for ripping everything from him.

Are they still undefeatable?

The answer is right in front of Satoru, yet he doesn’t want to face it. He and Suguru are the strongest sorcerers, but even so, they couldn’t beat Fushigoro Toji. They couldn’t win against him.

They couldn’t win against him.

His brain starts to chant failure, failure, failure, on a consistent loop. Satoru grips his white hair in his fists as if he would be able to pull the thoughts out of his mind. His brain won’t let go of the cadence.

Gritting his teeth, Satoru realizes he should be cursing Tengen-sama for doing this. If they didn’t need a Star Plasma Vessel, none of this would have happened. If they were strong enough to not need a vessel, defeat would have still been outside of Satoru and Suguru’s reach. They would still be undefeatable.

His rage is being misdirected. Maybe that was why he didn’t feel satisfied after killing Toji. He had the wrong target

Satoru thinks about the conversation he had with Suguru about eliminating Tengen-sama if Amani had agreed to it. Yaga said he thought the pair would have a fair chance against Tengen-sama had she requested to be set free. It doesn’t matter anymore, but Satoru wonders what her decision was. Would Amani have assimilated with Tengen-sama? Does they even deserve immortality? What is the point if they can’t save the sorcerers working to shield them in the area they are supposed to protect?

Satoru rubs his forehead as if that would numb the aching reminders of his failure. He can’t escape. His thoughts are consumed with ongoing second guesses, his vision is only of Suguru’s horrified expression, and he is surrounded by the cacophony of flyheads swarming him.

He's stuck in the purgatory of his typical ability to accept what is fact and this new discovered disgust from failure. Satoru understands that death is necessary. He knows that such is the life of a jujutsu sorcerer. You can't save everyone.

What he can do is detach from the losses of the day. He can recognize that Amani's death was going to happen no matter what, unless she had decided against assimilating. At the end of it all, she was just another teenage girl who was going to face her duty in this world like the rest of them. She had a job to do and she was willing to do it.

But still, the struggles persist tonight, driving Satoru insane. In his current state, Satoru feels as if the flies are swarming him once again, like he was nothing but a dead body laying after Fushigoro had walked away. In that state, Satoru couldn't have been surprised if the grim reaper itself was summoned, waiting by his side. The canyon of death was waiting for Satoru to make one wrong move and fall.

The realization that everything was almost ripped from him is what clutches him by his throat. Suguru, gone. Powers, meaningless. All within a few hours. One mistake: letting his guard down.

Can he call himself the strongest if he failed so drastically?

A light tapping noise temporarily pulls him from the trance he is in. Looking down to his right, he notices that his sweatshirt zipper is tapping on the metal barrier around him. He didn’t realize that he was rocking back and forth, trying to comfort himself.

Deciding this has been enough, he closes the balcony door and wanders back to the twin mattress in his small room. Thoughts of Suguru being awake too drifted into his conscious mind. He wants to go to him, but the fear of breaking down gets in the way. Suguru witnessed worse than what Satoru did but right now, Satoru can’t help either of them. What if he just makes it worse?

Still, the thought buzzes in his mind. His body feels possessed as he gets to his feet and heads to Suguru’s room.

The hallway seems to extend forever in both directions as if he’s trapped in an endless loop by a curse. Suguru’s dorm isn’t too far from Satoru’s, but the distance between them seems to stretch for miles tonight.

Standing at the door for a little too long, Satoru holds the cold door handle, waiting for something. He isn’t sure what it was, but he doesn’t feel like barging in. Maybe Suguru needs some space. Suddenly, coming here feels like a mistake.

Satoru decides to sit on the floor leaning against the door like a pet who needs permission to come inside. He hopes that Suguru will somehow just know he is out there waiting for him. They can seemingly communicate telepathically on missions, so it should be the same way tonight.

An hour ticks by as Satoru sits and rocks outside of Suguru’s door. He wonders if Suguru was even awake.

Sleep isn’t going to come tonight at all, so spending the entire evening outside of Suguru’s door doesn’t seem like a waste.

After what feels like another hour, courage finally shows itself, or maybe its desperation dressed in a silver cloak, telling Satoru to knock. He knows Suguru is a pretty heavy sleeper, so it likely won’t wake him if he’s already passed out. Judging by the dark sky peeking through the windows across from his door, it looks like night is still present. It’s probably well past midnight now, but if Satoru knows Suguru, he’s more than likely not asleep either. If he isn’t up for company, he won’t answer the door.

Still, his heart sinks when no one answers the door. Satoru sighs and gives in to the final hope he has and twists the door handle.

Locked.

Tears sting his eyes as he backs away.

Suguru never locks his door.

The hum of another defeat lowers into his bones as he trudges back to his room. He hadn’t realized how desperately he needed Suguru right now.

Flopping on his bed with a sigh, he snaps his phone open. Maybe Suguru will answer a text. The thought that maybe Suguru just doesn’t want to see Satoru enters his mind, but Satoru shoves it away with a heavy fist. He can’t handle that right now. 

Pain shoots through his lip as anxiety portrays itself through his actions.

The last text to Suguru was him sending an update that he found Amani and that she was safe.

The screen goes blurry as his chest starts to heave again. Satoru throws his phone across the room and curls into a ball on the bed. The crash of the object shattering echoes through the room.

Everything reminds him of the defeat. How do sorcerers that lose all the time do this?

Satoru switches between laying flat on his bed and the form he was previously in until the ceiling shines with the glow of the sun’s rays peeking over the horizon. Satoru curses the sun for having the audacity to rise. It shouldn’t be allowed to show itself on a gloomy day like today.

 The pillow underneath him has never seen so much moisture from his tears.

He hopes no one will bother him today. He doesn’t even want to see Suguru anymore. All Satoru wants to do is wallow at the bottom of the lake of despair.

Chapter Text

Satoru

December 3rd, 2006

After the failed Star Plasma Vessel mission, Satoru couldn’t stand to be at Jujutsu High. There was a melancholy that loomed in the halls of the school that Satoru refused to acknowledge. If he ignored it, it would eventually subside. 

Satoru being gone so often posed a few issues, but he trusted Suguru to be able to handle what was unfolding at the school. The other sorcerer thrived where Satoru didn’t; he was passionate about caring for the community at the school. Satoru felt comforted knowing that he left the others in good hands. He did not want to handle the higher ups and unless Suguru was present, Satoru knew he would snap.

The other problem he constantly ran into was the short circuiting his brain performed every time he climbed the stairs to Jujutsu High

The first time it happened wasn’t until a few months after the fight with Toji.

It was a cold Tuesday morning in the middle of winter. A blue hue was surrounding the school from the piles of snow that were dumped on the concrete. Satoru had just returned from an assignment on the outskirts of Tokyo, his first solo mission ever. The curse was a special grade but it went down easy. Satoru was untouchable now. Between RCT, limitless, and his jujutsu skills, there wasn’t anything that could take him down.

His report was prepared, but he was dreading speaking with the higher ups. They required that any special grade mission was debriefed directly with them instead of Yaga. Satoru despised talking with them. Suguru’s gentle warnings of being more polite rang in his ears. He quieted the voice with plans for his next assignment as he climbed the mountain of stairs, careful to avoid the ice.

He reached the top of the staircase when it hit him.

Black ink crept into the corners of his vision, blocking the snowy view from his sight. The red torii were the last thing he saw before the inky pool of darkness consumed him.

The barrier between him and infinity shut down. Trembling hands gripped his white hair with pale blue fingers. The cold air that could make it through his throat stabbed his rapidly pumping lungs, serving as the only reminder that he in fact could breathe.

Stumbling backwards, Satoru slipped on ice, landing hard on his hands and knees. Shards of ice sliced into the palms of his hands. Hot tears boiled at the bottom of his eyelids.

Suddenly, the high pitched hum of a swarm of flyheads surrounded him. The fear poured out of Satoru. He pulled on the closest thread to him. The only thing he felt like he could reach.

Maximum output: blue

Structures crumbled around him. The thud of a body falling to the concrete. Silence. 

A smile cut his face into two. A short laugh sliced through his throat. His breath was hot, creating a fog in the air. Now on his knees, he leaned back, looking at the cobalt sky. Pride swelled in his chest. An accomplished mission. Toji didn’t stand a chance.

Amani would assimilate. Suguru would be safe.

The air stilled around him as snowflakes fell from the silent sky. Satoru blinked, lowering his gaze to what was left of the structure in front of him.

What he expected was not there.

The relief faded. He didn’t just murder Fushigoro Toji.

It is snowing. He is living in December, 2006. His seventeenth birthday is approaching soon.

Fushigoro Toji isn’t here. He is already dead. Satoru had murdered him months ago.

Amani is dead.

Tengen-sama has been fine without her

Suguru’s scars prove that he is still alive.

The tears don’t stop. Satoru’s hot breath creates clouds in the air. Rage boils at the bottom of his throat and it tastes like bile.

On the way in to debrief with the higher ups, Satoru decides he would use the rest of his rage to kill all of them if they pry about the damage he just caused. During his meeting with them, he makes a lame attempt to create a story to cover the incident on the stairs at the entrance of the high school grounds. Fortunately for them, no one asked a single question

Admittedly, he is slightly disappointed that they didn’t pressure him into committing the crime.

--------

Suguru

December 5th, 2006

Life feels like it has been slowly crawling by on its scraped hands and bruised knees. Every few feet are more painful than the last but time waits for no one, not even the wounded.

For the past few months, every time Suguru closes his eyes all he sees was Amani’s smile as she reaches out to take his hand. The gun shot echoes in his ears, causing them to keep a high pitched ringing in the back of his mind.

A loop of the following events continues after the young girl’s life was taken. Fighting Toji, the terror of Satoru being dead, the hollow look in Satoru lifeless eyes as he held Amani’s corpse. Suguru didn’t think Satoru’s eyes could look more dead inside than those in the empty body of the teenage girl’s, but he was wrong. That day, they did.

The night of the failed assimilation mission, Suguru sat hunched over on the bed with his head in his hands. By the time Satoru made it back to his dorm, Suguru had vomited everything he’d eaten that day. He had heard the muffled sobs coming from Satoru. The cacophony made his broken heart shatter but every time he tried to get up, nausea struck like lightning. His head spun enough to make the room tilt. He sat over the small trash can in his room that once held the remains of drunken nights, trying to get rid of the bile that was stinging the back of his throat, but nothing would come up.

The nightmares are one of the worst parts. After he was healed by Shoko, he passed the scene where Satoru had been mutilated by Toji. The scene would appear in his horrifying dreams, but in the nightmares, Satoru was still there, begging for help. By the time Suguru arrives, it’s too late.

On the first loop of each nightmare, things went the same way they had before. 

He and Satoru had just finished climbing the stairs with Kuroi and Amani in front of them. The young girl and her guardian were panting after crawling up the endless steps to the torii of the school. Satoru was standing next to Suguru, bags of exhaustion were present under his eyes. Suguru still thought he looked beautiful in the sunlight. Suguru praised Satoru for working so hard, only to watch him be stabbed seconds later.

His entire world crumbled instantly. Being a sorcerer meant being able to think quickly on your feet but when it was a near fatal wound without any premonition, Suguru was caught off guard. In the dream, he knew what was going to happen, but all he could do was watch it play out just like it had that day.

After the fight between Suguru and Toji, the loop would start again.

Suguru was anxious the entire way up the stairs. Like a cat, he examined every movement that caught his eye. For some reason the hair on the back of his neck stood, but he couldn’t figure out why he was so worried.

“What are you so paranoid for? We are fine. We’re almost there and Tengen will protect us from then on.” Satoru gave him a weird look while they reached the top of the stairs.

“Satoru, please don’t turn off your limitless. Something isn’t right.”

Satoru punched him in the shoulder. “It’s fine. We’re both here and we’re the strongest–”

A stab wound cut him off.

The sequence played out again, exactly how it had before. Suguru lost consciousness when Fushigoro Toji kicked him in the face.

Another round.

The first time he had the dream sequence, it took Suguru’s unconscious body several attempts to figure out what was going on. In the last loop, Satoru had gotten pissed at Suguru for accusing him of not being safe enough. This sparked a fight between the two sorcerers. Panic flooded Suguru, as he knew the inevitable outcome, but Satoru wouldn’t listen to him. Suguru’s fear caused him to snap on Satoru, yelling at him viciously. While the two were distracted, Toji killed Kuroi and Amani. Satoru was next, killed by Toji on the steps of Jujutsu High. Fushigoro Toji sliced Suguru as he always did, and kicked him in the face.

“Thanks. That was enjoyable. I’m done,” he said before spitting on Suguru. “You can wake up now.”

He sits up in bed panting and sweating. His eyes are wide as he searches the dark room for a hint that this was truly reality.

To his left he sees the red lights of the time on his alarm clock. He winces as his hand is laid on his chest, waiting to find blood on his palm. The lack of liquid is enough to settle him back into reality, but it doesn’t make his fate any better. Guilt rubs its hands together like a maniacal fly in the corner of his room

Amani is dead. He had failed. There is nothing he could do to fix what happened.

The problem is, Suguru was left behind on that fateful day. Satoru seems to be thriving on his new missions while Suguru is caught in the vicious cycle of failure. Curses have been becoming stronger every day and as the strongest, Satoru has to take the burden on. The shame of no longer being able to protect the weak or provide for his loved ones made the hole even deeper for Suguru. 

A dark cloud followed him around that next summer. The days became harder and harder to get out of bed. Unless he was on a mission or studying, the sorcerer spent his time alone in his dorm. Suguru tried to cook for the group, but the smells triggered his nausea, so he eventually gave up. He couldn’t continue contributing to the group’s meals so he stopped showing up entirely

Haibara tried to encourage him on multiple occasions. He would stop by and invite Suguru to play sports with him, Nanami, and Shoko. Suguru couldn’t bring himself to leave his room unless he was summoned by Yaga or the higher ups. Haibara always noticed the way Suguru’s smile wasn’t genuine, but he tried. Once, he commented on how Suguru’s once violet eyes lacked the color they used to have.

“Yeah, I just,” Suguru searches for an excuse. “My mom called late last night and we talked for a while. I didn’t get much sleep because of that.”

“Oh good! I’m glad you guys caught up! How’s she doing? Oh, isn’t that festival coming up soon?

The enthusiasm makes Suguru feel even worse for lying. He had forgotten about the festival this year and he hasn’t spoken with his mom in months. Not from lack of effort on her end, but Suguru knows she would see through his fake voice and demands that he come home. He can’t leave Satoru behind. It wouldn’t be fair to leave everything on his shoulders.

“Yeah, the festival is in a couple of weeks. I forgot to bring it up. I was going to take Satoru with me but seeing as he’s so busy, I’ll have to tell her it’ll just be me. She’s going to be disappointed, so I’ve been avoiding saying anything.”

It was surprisingly easy to come up with another lie. Suguru figures it was because most of it was true; his mom would be disappointed when he told her that Satoru wasn’t going to be able to make it. She would probably be crushed if Suguru told her that he couldn’t make it either.

Haibara departs shortly after that, mentioning that he hopes to see Suguru before he leaves for the festival. Suguru waves and shuts the door to his small room.

His phone sits on the stand table. A few missed calls from his mom are waiting to be returned, but the guilt sat at the bottom of Suguru’s stomach. He couldn’t bring himself to hit call.

His thumb tabs over to messages, opening the thread between him and Satoru.

December 1st, 11:59am

Satoru: hey, just checking in. how is everyone?

Me: Fine. Nothing to worry about. How’s your mission?

Satoru: mehhhh u know, easy. kind of boring. sucks that we don’t get to go together anymore.

Suguru read his final text a few days ago, but didn’t type a response. Something like ‘yeah, I agree’ felt too simple, but a ‘yeah, I really miss you and I wish you’d be around more often’ felt too needy. He couldn’t find a good middle ground, so he decided not to respond at all. Still, the message waits for a reply, but Suguru can’t type a proper one out.

Later that day, Yaga requests Suguru for a mission in a small village in the outskirts of Tokyo. There were events of disappearances and deaths that have been occurring for a few days.

“I would typically ask Satoru to take a special grade on, but he is on a different mission, so the higher ups requested you. Let me know if you have any questions. We need you to head there as soon as possible.”

Through tired eyes, Suguru skims the paperwork. “Yes, Sensei.”

Exorcise cursed spirits from human emotions. Absorb cursed spirits from human emotions. Consume the taste of vomit and filthy laundry over and over again. A loop that Suguru was trapped in and would be stuck in for eternity.

-------

Satoru

August 15th, 2007

Things were busy that humid summer. The curses were rapidly manifesting, trying to keep up with Satoru’s new unlocked strength. His techniques have been rapidly advancing, and if he was being honest, it is exciting to be trusted to go alone. Taking the burden from his fellow students was important to him. Now that he can manage the harder tasks, they can focus on protecting the weak humans, while he works on keeping the sorcerers safe.

Satoru is on a special grade mission when he gets the call.

“Satoru, are you busy?” Yaga’s voice is uncharacteristically tender. 

“A little bit,” struggles present themselves through his voice.

Satoru has the phone in one hand, fighting the special grade with the other. The hospital is still operating, meaning this is a task that could not be ignored. Doctors and nurses are being attacked while trying to protect ill children. Satoru despises this assignment, since he is being put in charge of taking care of kids again, but he understands that he is the best match for the opponent.

This would be much more enjoyable if Suguru was here.

 He also hates being asked to work in situations where he isn’t allowed to use a veil. Satoru loves showing off, but humans aren’t allowed to see his powers. Walking the delicate balance of eliminating the problem while protecting the innocent from being put in danger is a difficult task that he, as the honored one, just has to accept.

“We need you to change missions. Haibara Yu was unsuccessful on his most recent mission. The curse he fought was too much for him to handle.”

Satoru’s mouth feels like cotton.

The curse notices the switch in his disposition and makes a new move of attack. Satoru has to pull the phone away from his ear for a minute while he uses both hands for a technique on the stupid thing. Why won’t it just surrender already?

Satoru knows death is inevitable in this line of work. It is a saccharine promise that is made to every mortal, but for sorcerers it is fated to come sooner rather than later. Haibara knew this too, which is why he banned his sister from joining jujutsu society. Satoru silently bowed his head in grievance for her.

“He is dead, Satoru.”

Although more time wouldn’t have prepared him for the words, he wishes that Yaga could have lessened the impact.

“Where is the curse at?”

----------

Suguru

August 17th, 2007

A mountain of corpses waits for me at the end of the hallway if all I can do is save those who are strong enough to survive.

What’s the point?

Right. To save those who are strong enough to survive.

Haibara wasn’t.

Haibara wasn’t. What if Nanami isn’t? What if Shoko isn’t? How can I protect all of them?

Can I save all of them alone?

No. I couldn’t even save one of them.

Only Satoru can.

Only Satoru can but he’s too busy with the tasks from the higher ups. The higher ups who don’t care that Haibara is dead. He was killed trying to protect humans. The ones that don’t care about him.

They don’t care. They don’t care. They don’t care.

How can they not care?

They won’t care when Nanami dies. They won’t care when Shoko dies. They didn’t care when Amani died for them. Sacrifices made, humans lost. Another drop in the bucket to them.

They won’t care when any of the sorcerers die because they’re selfish. Humans are too weak to have emotions.

They are the root of the problem, the cause for your destruction, and the reason time is a flat circle that keeps leading to that same mountain.

 The one that continues to grow from falling ash.

They don’t care.

Mindless fools.

Damn monkeys.

----------

Satoru

September 18th, 2007 

September arrived bringing a chill with it. It has been two months since Satoru had seen the torii of Jujutsu High. He hopes the three students were treading through the river well enough. Satoru is pretty sure Utahime had graduated, but it has been so long since he had seen her that he couldn’t remember. He has been giving everything he had to keep the curses at bay, trying to keep the other students safe, that time has mostly evaded him. Right now his life was a constant loop of fighting a curse, running into Tokyo for a quick restaurant meal, and then fighting again. He doesn’t need to sleep anymore, so he hardly books a hotel, unless the secretary at the school doesn't locate a curse by the time he’s done with the initial one.

 As much as he hated to admit it, with Haibara gone, Satoru worries less about the others. The other two sorcerers are strong enough to fend for themselves.

Satoru is in between missions, so he decides to take a stroll to his favorite place to grab mochi. Nostalgia makes his heart ache. In the prior years of youth, when Suguru and Satoru were assigned missions together, Satoru would drag his partner to this stand to get dessert. Suguru never once complained. The throb of the sentimentality makes him forget to breathe for a few minutes.

The ring of a phone call slices through the thrum of the crowded streets. People rush past Satoru as if he’s just another human. None of them realize that he’s been working tirelessly to provide them with the safety that they recognize as everyday life. Satoru silently groans when he pulls the phone from his pocket. The bag of mochi dangles from his other hand. He debates reaching in for a reward of accepting yet another mission. One day off was too much apparently

“Satoru, I need to see you. Can you come back to Jujutsu High?” His sensei’s voice is uncharacteristically tender again. He seems to be tiptoeing on ice.

With pursed lips, Satoru agrees. His heart skips a few beats as he quickly makes his way to the car that would take him back to the school. The ink is present again, threatening to crawl back into his vision. Satoru places bars around the edges of his mind, securing them with thoughts of how strong Suguru is. Satoru can’t falter right now. The panic is pressing hard into his brain as the driver’s foot slams on the gas. The tight grip on the hope that Suguru is safe is making his fingers turn white. Suguru is safe. He has to be.

------------

April 4th, 2005

The first day of Jujutsu High was not like Satoru had imagined it would be. He was looking forward to the year beginning with his small class focusing on jujutsu techniques and cursed energy, and not to have to worry too much about actual studies, because what was the point?

Well, it was wishful thinking to be released into the jujutsu world immediately.

The other students he met weren’t as prepared for the jujutsu world as he was. They both came from smaller villages and though they had some experience, it didn’t stack up to Satoru’s. He knew as a Gojo that he would enter the school being more powerful than any of his peers, but he held onto the hope that they would at least be a grade one.

So when he met Geto Suguru and Ieiri Shoko, disappointment was radiating off of him.

“Why are you acting so sullen?” The new girl pokes him with her pencil.

All three of the new students are sitting in the classroom waiting for their principal to join them. Three desks stand in the front of the room that sits empty other than them. It’s comically large, swallowing the three students. 

Why such a big room for such small classes? They know they aren’t getting more than four students per year

Satoru sits in the middle, being the last to arrive with only a couple of minutes to spare. His arms are crossed over his chest and he refuses to move even though his glasses are actively considering falling off of the bridge of his nose. To his right sits a girl with short brown hair and fair skin, who seems as disinterested in the other two as Satoru does, but for other reasons than being disappointed in strength.

“I was hoping you guys would be strong enough to keep up with me. I am already a special grade. You’re telling me you’ve only been exorcising curses for a couple of years?”

To his left sits an onyx haired teenager who also seems pretty distant from the other two. He’s a little shorter than Satoru, but broader. His amethyst eyes are skipping from the notebook laying on the desk in front of him to the cherry blossoms outside. The girl and Satoru had been chatting for a couple of minutes and at any point the other student could have joined in, but he kept quiet.

Boring.

Satoru leans over to him. “You lonely?”

This is when Satoru notices his bangs.

His new peer has his jet black hair in a high bun and bangs pulled out to one side. He laughs quietly to himself, careful not to make the situation more tense.

When he opens his mouth, his voice is like honey, smooth and sweet, and slightly higher pitched than Satoru expected. “Not at all. I’m just waiting for class to start.

“Hm. Ready to study, huh? That’s boring. What’s your cursed technique?” Maybe that’s not as dull. He holds the last words in, careful not to crack the thin ice underneath their newborn relationship.

“Cursed manipulation.”

Satoru’s eyes widened at the remark. “Whoa! Cursed manipulation. Now that is interesting.”

The words don’t coax any more information from the sorcerer, so Satoru decides to fill the empty void with words from his own mouth.

He continues to babble about how fascinating that is, mostly to try and get this guy on his good side. Satoru is not usually one to inflate other people’s egos like balloons, especially ones that will deflate when they see how gifted Satoru is, but if the two are going to be working together more often than not, seeing as the girl in their class is a healer, he wants to become friends quickly. Satoru has spent most of his life without any real, close friends, and he came here hoping to change that. Maybe Geto Suguru and Ieiri Shoko could be the ones to break this curse.

The door opens, yet Satoru doesn’t stop talking. Now, he’s animatedly telling the other two about his techniques, using his hands to gesture, but careful not to pull any power up, even though they probably are familiar because he’s from the Gojo clan and all, but once Satoru starts bragging, it doesn’t end.

“Satoru, would you please stop talking about yourself for five minutes so I can start class?”

His face drops at the sensei’s words. He crosses his arms and lets out a meek sigh. “Yes, sensei.”

Class is dull, as he expected, but it is finished soon enough. Not much other than the plans for the year was discussed. When they’re dismissed, Satoru eagerly grabs his navy bag and invites the other two to swap phone numbers, even though they share a dorm room. He moved in only a few days ago, but today is the first he’s seen of any other students.

He pulls out his silver flip phone, encouraging the others to do the same. Shoko’s is pink, which Satoru is kind of jealous of, why didn’t he see that there was a pink option? Suguru’s is black, no surprise there. The phones are rotated between the three as they enter numbers.

“Isn’t there an easier way to do this?” Annoyance seeps through the cracks of Shoko’s tone. “You guys could have just said the digits out loud.”

Satoru shrugs. “I guess, but we’re already here. Here, Geto.” He hands the pink phone to the other teenager.

Their fingers brush as the device gets swapped.

The black phone sits in Satoru’s fingers now as he clicks through the screen to add a contact. He tries not to pry, really, but he couldn’t help but notice that Suguru had recently called his mom and someone named Akiko. 

“You got a girlfriend back home?”

Violet eyes stare at him blankly. Satoru bites his tongue, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have overstepped. Maybe day one was not the best time to be snooping through someone’s phone.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to give you my phone!” Shoko shrieks. “I knew you would be going through it. You just met us!”

“No, Gojo, that’s a friend. Ever heard of that?”

The comment is delivered with a bite. Satoru reels back from the unhealable wound. For the first time today, he’s quiet as he punches his number into the phone.

Shoko shatters the silence. “You guys want to get dinner together? I haven’t been to Tokyo yet and I’m craving ramen.”

Satoru agrees, and Geto follows them like a shadow. Walking through the bright halls back to their dorms to drop their bags off, Shoko and Satoru discuss what restaurants are the best to eat at in the city. The threes’ footsteps tap through the wooden floors as their voices reverberate off of the walls. Every few steps, Satoru peeks back at the silent student, debating how he can get back on his good side.

Shoko’s room is a little closer to the classroom than either of the boys’, so she stops first, telling them to meet her in fifteen or she will leave without them.

Geto trails Satoru a few feet behind him, but Satoru isn’t pleased with this. He stops abruptly with an apology sitting at the back of his throat, waiting to be extracted with polite words and a kind smile.

“Hey, sorry about the snooping. I should wait to do that until we’re better friends.”

His words hang in the air, waiting to be caught by Geto, but he doesn’t make a move to do so.

Instead, Satoru continues talking.

“Are you close with your mom?”

A sigh comes before a reply. “Yes. It was hard leaving her, but I’m excited about the opportunity to study here.”

Finally, something we can bond over. “Yeah, me too. It’ll be a fun few years. I’m sure it’ll come with its problems, but I can tell that you and I will be able to handle it.”

He clicks his tongue while thinking of a response. “Yeah, Gojo, I think we’ll manage it well.”

“Satoru is fine, by the way. I don’t care for formalities.”

The sorcerer smiles for the first time. The sight makes Satoru’s heart lurch as if he just eliminated his first curse ever. Victory.

“Okay, Satoru.”

He smiles as the door to Geto’s room creaks open. The sorcerer disappears inside, leaving Satoru to himself.

I actually have a good feeling about this.

------------

September 18th, 2007

Suguru killed his entire village. 

He killed his parents. Akiko. Her entire family.

He admitted to it. He told Satoru to his face. Suguru had walked away from Satoru, leaving him to make a choice of his own for once, knowing that Satoru couldn’t do it

Yaga’s words keep repeating in his mind as if it is a broken record. Satoru feels like he was placed in a roaring river without anything to keep him afloat. He comes up for air and then is sucked under by the reality of what he was just told.

Suguru. His parents.

It’s September. The festival. I missed it.

Why didn’t he remind me? Didn’t I reach out in August?

Did he go to the festival? Did he see his family one last time? 

Why did he kill his parents?

Suguru had left him.

His best friend. His soulmate. His partner. Everything Satoru had ever wanted in life. Satoru failed once again but this time, he lost everything.

Suguru slipped through his fingers as if Satoru had never had him in the first place.

Suguru. Gone.

“You just let him go, huh?”

He can barely pull himself up. For one of the first times in his life, he doesn’t know what to say. Satoru having a weakness is foreign to everyone, including himself, but he expected Yaga of all people to be aware of his relationship with Suguru. Feelings of betrayal reside in his chest, but not only from the earlier day’s events.

“You’re seriously asking me that?” He tries to hold the anger back, but the words still come out with a bite.

Yaga sighs, waiting a moment to respond. “Right. Sorry, Satoru. I just don’t know what the higher ups are going to do now.”

Satoru scoffs. Of course that is what Yaga is thinking about right now. One of his students committed genocide after having a mental breakdown, and that is what he’s concerned about? What the higher ups are going to do? Satoru is expected to take care of it, like all of the other responsibilities. It should have been easy for him, eliminating Suguru. All he had to do was use Hollow Purple and that would be that.

Of course he was expected to not let his emotions get tangled in the mess of losing Suguru. Afterall, he’s been gone for so long that how could they even still be close? The higher ups don’t care about anything aside from the future of the academy, so why should Satoru? Everything is black and white.

“Sensei.” In a moment of weakness, Satoru mumbles, “Am I strong?”

“Yes, brazenly so,” confirms Yaga.

Following a few minutes of no response, the atmosphere shifts. He hears footsteps departing; Yaga is making his way back towards the school. The chirping cicadas are the only thing breaking the stillness now. If Satoru closes his eyes, he swore it faintly sounded like the clapping ringing in his ears from that fateful day.

---------

After making sure the door is locked, Satoru lets everything down. He removes his sunglasses and rubs his face, only to then realizing he is crying. The sudden awareness of this vulnerability makes his body shudder and it lets out a muffled sob.

Following shortly after his arrival, his face becomes stained with tears and the floor of the bedroom is covered in tissues. He knows that Shoko would understand if she saw him in this condition, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to. He knows neither Utahime and Nanami won’t show up at his door.

Throwing himself into a heap on his bed, Satoru clutches an extra pillow between his arms. The chattering of his jaw is the only sound that exists in the dark cave of his room.

Failure is taunting him like a bully laughing at him. He was so proud of himself because he was able to take the burden off of Suguru’s shoulders. Did Suguru not know that Satoru requested for the admin to place all of the missions on his shoulders so he could rest? It was such an easy decision. Curses were gaining strength in unprecedented numbers, but so was Satoru. Improving was the only way to promise a future worth living for.

I thought I was helping.

His head aches from the constant crying. Reverse cursed technique could have relieved the pain, sitting available like a pain medication, but Satoru wants to feel it. He immerses himself in the hurt. He needs a reminder that he was human, as if watching his soulmate walk away wasn’t enough.

Since he hadn’t been in this room in a while, the remnants of the last night here are present. The night after Yaga had given them their last mission together.

Satoru had invited Suguru over for a movie, just the two of them. Satoru used the excuse that everyone was busy, but he really just wanted to spend time with Suguru. At this point, Suguru had started to become distant, but Satoru chalked it up to the two of them going through trauma from Amani’s death.

He grits his teeth while submerging himself in the memory. He ignored so many symptoms of psychosis that he should have seen. What was the point of being able to see the color of people’s souls if he was too blind to see the only persons that mattered to him?

That night, he made snacks and put on a movie he loved, forcing Suguru to listen to him rant about every detail. He and Suguru shared the bed, knees touching once in a while. The sensation of their bodies meeting each other’s sent Satoru’s heart on a run.

Satoru was loud and messy, as always, dumping popcorn everywhere while he was talking with his hands. Suguru laughed at him while saying that he was grateful they weren’t in his room. Satoru’s ears perked at the melody of his gentle voice. His smile burned into the back of Satoru’s eyelids. His purple eyes squinted, tears barely forming at the edges. Chest swelling with pride, Satoru beamed at him.

His eyes trailed to the camera that laid on the edge of the side table. Satoru practically throws his body at it, using his long arms to pick it up and without moving too far from Suguru’s side. While Suguru wasn’t watching, he snapped a couple of candids. His heart jumped from the excitement of getting to have Suguru’s laugh captured forever.

The movie ended too early, so Satoru asked if they could spend a little more time together. Suguru was quiet, but he nodded. Fluffing pillows, Satoru invited Suguru to play video games together. Suguru offered little more than a nod, but that’s all Satoru needed. When Satoru handed him the console, their hands touched. Satoru remembers the lack of spark between them. At that moment, he didn’t acknowledge it. Maybe Suguru was just tired.   

The recollection fades through his fingers, now bleeding grey instead of color. The memory had been so nostalgic but now that he is looking through a different lens, he sees the fallacies. Satoru cries, wishing he could turn back time. He is so strong, most anything was within his reach of power. Anything but this.

Satoru leans forward and puts his head into his hands, dropping the pillow like a stone in the river. He thinks back to the day that Amani had died, when Suguru had stopped him from committing mass murder on the Star Plasma group. How long has he held onto Suguru as a moral compass? Satoru could have snapped and let go of everything. At the time, he thought he wouldn’t feel anything. He would have enjoyed it. It was the only action that could bring satisfaction to him.

He should have been there to stop Suguru from his fate. Fury rises through his chest, magma boiling inside of a volcano. Suguru was right to stop him from committing a crime the day he picked up Amani’s body. He was right, wasn’t he? Where would they be if Suguru hadn’t stopped him?

Is Suguru making the right decision now?

Cursing, he stands up to pace the room. Suguru’s words ring in his ears, “Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Satoru or are you Satoru Satoru because you’re the strongest?”

Satoru feels so pathetic. He feels disgusting. Sobbing over the loss of his soulmate, alone, in his dark dorm room. He wants to punch something. He needs to feel something more than the pain. It is no longer enough. He begins questioning his mortality. Like a dog chasing its tail, Satoru recognizes this thought pattern, but he can’t interrupt it. Is it worth being a human if he couldn’t feel?

Why didn’t Suguru let Satoru reach him? Suguru knew how much Satoru loved him, didn’t he? 

He sure as hell was feeling something now. He wonders what Suguru was doing. Where he has gone. After eliminating his family, Satoru stiffens at the thought, where would he go? Where the hell could Suguru have gone?

Gripping his white hair, Satoru clenchs his jaw and sits on the floor, rocking back and forth.

Thoughts race through his mind soaked in venom. You should have spoken to him. You could have stopped this.

Desperately seeking comfort, Satoru pulls his uniform off, frantically searching for his safe clothes. 

Relief doesn’t come.

Guilt floods the room in hues of grey and black. His ears ring through the silence.

Everything is too much yet not enough.

The room begins to spin. Satoru can’t catch his breath. Nothing feels real.

His legs feel like a baby fawns as he falls out of bed and onto the balcony. The dread is hot on his heels

He feels eyes burning into his back. Turning around, he chooses the closest object to throw at the figure that was standing behind him.

The chair flies across the room, hitting the far wall with a thunk.

He blinks once, twice, teeth still bared. Eyes wide, he stares into the room, refusing to believe his senses. Tension rules his heaving chest and shoulders. The anxiety of being watched fades, but the heart palpitations are still present. Black shadows slink into the corners of his vision.

No one was there.

Shoving himself into a corner, Satoru curls up pulling his knees to his chest. His soft jacket caresses his skin, smothering him in physical reassurance, but tonight, its efforts are futile. He starts rocking, eyes frantically scanning the room for any intruders. He doesn’t trust his sight, but he can rely on his six eyes to alert him if a soul is present in the room.

Dizziness settles in from the movement of him trying to calm his nerves. Satoru thinks he’s floating above his body, watching himself as he clutches reality between tight fists.

The darkness swallows Satoru’s body, making him feel tiny and weak. Even as he watches himself from above, his eyes burn from the stare he is unable to break.

Flashes of Suguru’s smile comes to his mind.

His long, dark hair blowing in the wind.

His violet eyes squinting at Satoru.

A small, gentle, kind smile on his lips.

Then, the way he cursed Satoru’s name.

If you want to kill me, then kill me. There would be a point to that.

Visions of Suguru mutilating his hometown come next.

Along with it, screams of horror and heat from the fire.

Satoru squeezes his eyes shut as if he were able to block the thoughts from his mind. He’s back in his body now, but wishes he could exit it again. Dizziness comes over him like a pulsing alarm. His heart begins to speed up as he is drowned in the panic that is consuming him. His body is shaking uncontrollably from the lack of oxygen as he can’t catch air through his sobs.

Delusions present themselves as facts and Satoru falls for them.

Sniffling, Satoru looks up to stare at his bedroom door. Any minute now Suguru is going to show up with dessert in one hand and Satoru’s heart in the other. Satoru will throw himself at his feet, begging for forgiveness. Satoru will apologize profusely, offering to give anything to fix what he spent so long avoiding. They would make it out together, alive and well.

The thought is enough to bring him some relief. He clings to the thorns of hope, watching as they stab through his palms, because it is the only thing keeping him from drowning in his grief.

If he would just talk to me, I could fix this

Once his body calms, he stares at the floor. There is a feeling of hope that was finding a place to settle in his stomach. The whole situation could just be a misunderstanding. Suguru hasn’t malfunctioned. He is in a domain. That has to be it.

His brain won’t let it go; there has to be an escape from this domain.

Satoru stands, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. The black material is now rough against his skin. He chews on his lip as he considers what sort of curse could have created this hell of a domain.

How long has he been here? How can he escape

The name drums in the back of his mind like a heartbeat. 

Tengen-sama

If they never needed a Star Plasma vessel, Suguru wouldn’t have defected.

Or maybe Tengen-sama is angry with the way things turned out. This is a punishment for their failure. Since Satoru is the strongest, it makes sense that he would be the one suffering.

Rage builds a temple underneath his skin. Satoru can handle the pain but putting Suguru through this is infuriating him. The failure to Toji was no one’s fault but Satoru’s. He was arrogant and naive. Suguru did nothing wrong. His soulmate doesn’t deserve this

Gripping the sleeves of his zip up, he makes his hands into fists. The hair on the back of his neck raises, preparing for gloomy weather in the way an animal prepares for winter. The metallic taste of hot blood pools into his mouth. His tongue heals immediately, but he keeps biting down. He needs to ground himself in the moment.

Nothing stands between Satoru and the destruction of Tengen-sama.

Alarms blares in his mind as he teeters on the edge of the decision. The rushing water of devastation calls to him like a siren. All he has to do is jump.

It won’t take much. It would be so easy for him to destroy them.

He feels his eyes start to sting again, but he can’t break his stare from the temptation of annihilation. It stares him in the face, unwilling to back down. An option that is overbearing. One that will never surrender. 

Something snaps in his mind, launching visions of Suguru to the forefront again. If he can escape from this domain, what does that mean for Suguru?

Satoru surrenders and lets the doubt crowd his mind. He wants to submit. He can’t take it anymore. Not even the reversed curse technique can keep up with what his body was throwing at him.

If he does obliterate Tengen, what future would that leave for jujutsu society? For him and Suguru? Would Suguru even want him afterwards? Could he win him back?

Satoru eventually crashes. His human body is worn down from registering the trauma of the day, and regardless if he’s the strongest or not, even Satoru’s body has a limit. He curses his weak body before crawling to the safety of his bed.

The mattress is not as comfortable as the bed at the hotel he had recently laid in, but it feels more like home than those. Luckily, Suguru’s scent is still present in the pillow; warm, inviting, and intoxicating. His heart aches, but his body accepts the comfort.

Satoru focuses on his breathing, trying to calm himself. His body finally relaxes, being surrounded by Suguru’s scent. He drifts off to sleep quickly, even though the pressure of loss was a stone on his chest, forcing him underneath the currents of despair.

Chapter Text

Shoko

September 22nd, 2007

The fabric of Shoko’s sweatshirt is smooth against her arms as it slides onto her body. Her indoor slippers squeak against the hardwood floor in the dark room. She glares at them as if the expression will make them surrender to the eerie quiet of the space.

In light of the recent events, Shoko started waking up earlier than usual as she is now expected to cook breakfast for the group. The new routine is bothersome, but she knows it will only be a little time until she settles in.

She hopes that some consistency brings comfort to the other three that are left.

It’s only been a few days since Suguru’s defection, but Satoru has already been sent on a mission. The thought of him being on his own after that horrible day makes her sick.

She is pretty sure that he has been holed up in Suguru’s room since his defection, with the exception of today. The urge to glance at his dorm room once more before the higher ups have his abandoned belongings removed tugs at her, demanding to be given attention.

After Suguru’s betrayal, the higher ups held a meeting between themselves and Yaga, where they determined they would do it as soon as possible. Under alternative circumstances, like Haibara’s death, they would let the next of kin decide on how to handle the room, however with Suguru’s situation, not only does he lack respect from anyone here, but he also now doesn’t have next of kin to ask.

Her best memories of high school are locked behind that door that was once a safe haven for the group. For two years it was their only space to unravel the string that held them together. The only place they could be kids.

They’re probably going to send someone in to do it today, with Satoru being gone. Now or never.

Her body takes her to Suguru’s room without her needing to think; a fish simply knows how to swim, even in the rough currents. 

She and Utahime would occasionally prank the boys, setting alarms outside their doors for the middle of the night, trying, but more often than not, failing, to cover their laughter. Tgey would end up shushing each other, which made it even harder to stay quiet. To the boys’ dismay, the only one who was a light sleeper was Haibara. Fortunately for Shoko and Utahime, he would join in on their antics when he woke to them sneaking around.

Those were the beginning of the days in Jujutsu High. The ones that came with the most enjoyment. The freedom of being in a new city with new challenges and endless opportunities to make new friends, explore, and simply exist as a teenager. As close to a normal life as they could get.

The responsibility-free life was not long lived. Although the fun built the foundations of their friendships, the serious tasks of being sorcerers caught up to them quickly, creating barriers and walls. Only a few months in their antics dwindled, becoming less frequent, until eventually, they stopped altogether. They split into their small groups, Utahime and Shoko, Satoru and Suguru, Haibara and Nanami. None of them seemed to mind catching up when their schedules aligned, but they collectively missed the spontaneity of youth.

The secret of Haibara joining in on their games died with him, and will die with Utahime and Shoko too.

Death is not foreign to Shoko. Death is an idea that comes, asks for attention, and then reluctantly leaves, usually to be seen again quite soon. It is not an unfair relationship, although most people would argue against her on that. She recognizes the importance of the end; sometimes it is the only way to offer peace.

Her views don’t affect the way she works; all of the sorcerers she works with to be saved if she can help it.

She knew at some point she would have to process grief in the way she is familiar with other people doing, but she always expected it to be different for her. She and death were always on a first name basis; no introduction was ever necessary. Although she hadn’t experienced personal loss prior to Haibara, she had been exposed to grief for as long as she could remember. She hoped that it would provide her with an easier route through the process, a shortcut hiding below the shadows.

After passing Haibara’s door, she wipes a tear off of her face, thanking herself for deciding to come early. She quite admired Haibara’s loyalty, eagerness, and respect for the world. Thinking that she would have an easier time through the pain didn’t have anything to do with him, it was just her being hopeful. She may think she has gotten over it, but her body hasn’t processed the grief yet.

Her hand settles on Suguru’s door. She inhales deeply, thinking this would be the last time she gets to see his room untouched. She will never enter this space to smoke with Suguru or listen to Satoru strum his guitar again. Those days are in the past, gone like the sun well after it has set.

Shoko slowly lets her breath go, the door creaking open under her fingers. She hears something shift in the room, and curses under her breath. It is too late to turn around now. 

Upon her entrance, Satoru slowly lifts his eyes to meet hers.

He is sitting on Suguru’s bed, knees to his chest, holding a picture of the three of them. His head hangs low, white hair dusting his eyes. She peers at the desk, making note that the photo in Satoru’s hand is the one Suguru had on his desk. It’s one of the few items he left behind.

Suguru’s room is emptier than she remembers. Not because of physical items; if he took anything she can’t place a finger on what’s gone, but empty from the absence of the love that used to be etched in the walls. His music posters are still fixed in the same spots, and the rug he insisted on dragging all the way home from Kyoto to provide comfort for his friends takes up the same square of space on the floor of his room. It should feel the same, but it doesn’t.

The now curse user abandoned his beloved record player too. Maybe she really didn’t know him as well as she thought she did.

Shoko cautiously walks towards the mattress, taking a seat next to the sorcerer. She rests her head on his shoulder, sniffling. Satoru doesn’t move, just releases a shaky breath, tear filled eyes still pinned to the photo in his hand.

Daylight starts seeping in through the windows, casting bright reflections onto the floor. Satoru quickly grabbed his sunglasses and pulled them over his sensitive eyes. 

“I wish he would have closed the damn curtains before he left,” Satoru grumbles, bringing his knees close to his chest again. 

Shoko scoffs, leaning forward to put her elbows on her knees. “You know, normally people with depression need someone to open their blinds in the morning. Helps them get out of bed.” She pauses, thinking, adding quietly, “He did seem better the last day I saw him, though.”

Satoru is silent for too long. The absence of his words makes her uncomfortable. They sit in the quiet room together, pain hanging in the air. Grief is dense. How does one push through it? You can’t escape it, for it will find you on a warm summer day and slowly sneak its way around you, holding you down until you stare it in the face and let it consume you.

“Why didn’t I see what was happening? How did I let this one slip past? There had to have been something. I could have done something.” A bitterness is entangled in his soft voice.

Shoko thinks for a minute. Satoru isn’t the type to talk about feelings, so she needs to proceed delicately. The last thing she wants is for him to repel all of his emotions, especially after the conversation with Yaga. Someone needs to be grounded here, and it seems like she is up for the job.

“Sometimes people can’t be helped, Satoru. We all have our faults in this, but I don’t know if any one person could have changed the outcome.”

“I could have helped him.”

She can hear his tears escaping between his muffled gasps for air. The bed creaks as Satoru lays on his side. She glances behind her, finding him facing the wall curled into Suguru’s pillow.

The photo has been dropped back onto the side table. All three of them were smiling at the camera, seemingly teasing the two of them about the way things used to be.

“I think if anyone could have helped,” she hesitates to say the words but her friend needs to hear them. “It would have been you. But Suguru wasn’t willing to be saved.”

She slides off the bed onto the floor, soaking in the light that is shining through the window. The sun’s heat caresses her as she stretches onto the hardwood. Memories of drinking on the floor of this room flood her mind. She watches herself stumble inside with Utahime in tow, finding the boys laying together on the bed. Satoru is on his back, head resting in Suguru’s lap, holding his Nintendo in the air. Words of frustration come from his mouth as the host laughs quietly at them. In the faded memory, Utahime lands in the spot that Shoko is now, while the chestnut haired girl plugs in the television, pulling up Satoru’s switch so they can play video games together.

She sighs as the memory melts away from her sight as if it’s ice cream in the hot sun.

“I think he communicated that to you through his actions. He made the decision for you, he just left the aftermath for you.”

Her heart aches for Satoru. How do you process not only losing someone you know inside and out, but then coming home to a stranger?

“Do you think he hates me, Shoko?”

She tilts her head up at the white haired teen who still has his back to her. Up until a few days ago, she didn’t think her friend was capable of hating anything. Sure, he disliked curses just as much as all of the sorcerers do, but hate? Not a word in his vocabulary.

She questions if it is even now.

Shoko’s not blind to the fact that Suguru was slowly fading away. Could Satoru have saved him? Probably not. Her medical knowledge doesn’t cover any mental health disorders, but she can’t deny the reality that something more than just “hate” is going on.

She knows the answer to her question. Something rather than “hate” caused this.

 “I don’t think someone can go from loving someone so much,” she lazily points to the ceiling, “to hating them like that.” Her finger falls to the floor.

What isn’t said is clear through between the lines of her words. It has always been undeniable how entangled the two were. It was more than the sun and the moon. The blood in their veins flowed for each other. Shoko could see how their hearts beat in synchronicity. Bodies remember, even if souls refuse to acknowledge it.

“What happened while I was gone?”

“That’s a bit of a loaded question.”

“Are you going to be any help? Like at all?”

She sighs. A lot needs to be said, but it’s heavy and Satoru is fragile right now. Uncertainty hides, buried underneath a confident, hardened exterior. “A lot occurred. Before Haibara’s death, he was distant. Tired all the time. Holed up in his room. He stopped hosting, but I think you knew that.

“Stopped cooking, but you knew that too. After Haibara’s death, I don’t think I saw him at all until that day in Shinjuku.”

Satoru hums, which is more of a reply than she expected.

“Do you think,” a pause. “Do you think he knew that everything I was doing was for him? For all of you?”

“I think that you know him better than I do, Satoru.”

A disgusted noise comes from the bed. “Shoko, I need something to attach to right now. Do I need to get you a drink in order to get some real advice from you?”

She laughs and pulls out a cigarette. “Maybe this will help.” As she walks to the balcony, she beckons him to join her. “You want one? They usually make me feel pretty enlightened.”

Her friend slowly ambles towards her, accepting the extended tobacco in her hand. “You know I’ve never had one before. Don’t laugh if I cough. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”

The saucers of his eyes are glossy. He’s actually not joking for once.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Outside, the sun bathes them in its rays. Birds chirp from the forest nearby which settles her nerves. Or maybe it's from the tobacco that she’s inhaling. She’s leaning against the railing, intermittently tapping the butt of the cigarette onto the railing. Her chin rests in her opposite hand as she gazes over the greenery outside of Suguru’s room.

Whether his response is an approval or denial, she won’t be surprised. Her role in their friendship is to be the constant. Satoru’s rock. Whether he sees that or not, she isn’t sure. Before Suguru left, Satoru didn’t require gravity alone, but the pair did. Shoko was their security. She provided stability, something to return to that wouldn’t change, no matter how often their lives were impacted.

So, when the balance was tilted, she slid off of the scale too.

Now she’s got to figure out how to get back on. For Satoru.

“I just, I miss him.”

The foundation of the walls he’s worked hard to put up is starting to crack. He’s peeling them away layer by layer, enough to let her peer inside.

The lighter touches the end of his cigarette. He brings the object to his mouth, cheeks blown wide. Shoko has to bite her tongue to avoid giggling at his attempt.

He coughs, which is lucky for her, because it covers her snorts. She hides her face with the hand it rested in, waiting for him to continue.

“I thought I had more time. And that’s just the trouble, isn’t it?” A sniffle occurs before he raises his head to look at the morning sun. “I regret waiting. Maybe if I actually said the words, manifested it into the world, it could have been different.

“It hurts, Shoko. I don’t know how to let it go.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but he continues before she can.

“This is so stupid. Confessing my feelings and smoking? Two firsts in one day for Gojo Satoru. I think this will be the last time, too.”

“Who else are you going to talk to about your grievances?”

“God, you’re right,” his head rests in his hands now. “Definitely not Utahime.”

She snorts. “As if she’d even stand in the same room as you.”

“I wouldn’t even try.”

“I don’t hold the answers, but I will say that I’m glad you’re aware of your feelings. That’s the first step to healing. The second is smoking a cigarette once a day and the third, leaning on your friend,” she nudges his shoulder. “Time will help, Satoru. You can let yourself simmer in it for a little while, but eventually the grief will light you on fire if you stay in one place for too long. You have to be the one to remind yourself that you are alive while this boiling pot of loss tries to absorb you.”

The cigarette comes to her dry lips. Their smoke curls together before evaporating into nothingness.

Time stretches on, bringing with it the sun over the horizon of the school. Eventually it becomes too bright for Satoru to be outside, so he heads back in with Shoko on his heels.

“Satoru,” Shoko starts, unsure of how to address the topic. “What is your next mission?”

He waves the question off as if the words were made of gnats. “I don’t fucking know. I’m not doing what they want right now. I don’t fucking care. I’m more powerful than they are and they should know better than to push it with me.”

She nods, dancing around the topic as if Satoru’s on fire and she’s covered in gasoline.

Shoko decides to change the topic entirely without making an effort to cover the whiplash.

“Are you going to join us for breakfast?”

“Uh, no. I’m not. I’ve got some leftover onigiri from the konbini. I’ll have that.”

Liar.

“Okay. If you need any more life changing advice from me, you know where to find me.”

Shoko slowly exits the room, leaving the awkwardness behind the closed door with Satoru inside. She would realize too late that she forgot to say goodbye to Suguru’s room before every piece of him was erased from it as if he never belonged there.

-----------

September 21st, 2007

Shoko should have known this was going to happen. She should have been able to predict this from the way that Yaga’s voice was tight, the same as the day he came to her side after Amani’s death, when she needed to save Satoru and Suguru.

It’s the way that the body is brought to the mortuary that sets the tone for the autopsy. The coroner’s job is to unveil the secrets hidden inside the corpse, even if the outcome is foreseeable. The medical staff can usually pull the mysteries out before cutting the body open, but they still have to perform the procedure.

As a trained professional, she should have been able to cut this body open with a 22” inch blade, starting at the collarbones, exposing the evidence through the flesh to prove her suspicions. Even though she’s only a few years in, confidence is present enough in the healer’s hands to guide her through the examination with her eyes closed.

Even with her eyes closed, she should have been able to see that this was the next stone on the path they were walking on, speeding through the tunnel to this red light.

But when Yaga delivers the news to her and Satoru in their classroom of one empty desk, her mind doesn’t quite grasp reality.

The room seems distant. The clock above her teacher sits as still as the recently deceased person she envisions herself working on.

A steady hand is the key. Step one, Y incision. Next, remove the larynx and the esophagus. Now, I’ll take the diaphragm to access the abdominal organs…

In this room, there aren’t any tools to cut the corpse aside from the blades that are shaped like words when they come out of Yaga’s mouth.

The first stage occurs; stiff muscles and firm face. Shoko’s body is struggling to process the information. Her eyes wander across the desktop, hoping an instrument will manifest in front of her, so she can at least perform the procedure on the table in front of her. Or maybe she can stitch together the hole where Suguru should be.

The only problem is that she can’t look at the desk where he used to belong.

“Do either of you have any questions?”

Shoko blinks at her teacher once again. His eyes are hollow, staring straight through the sunglasses on his face.

The stiffness spreads, settling into more than just her face. Numbness tingles in her shoulders, spilling through her veins down to her fingertips.

The higher ups have decided to set a bounty on Suguru’s head.

And the only one who can pursue it is Satoru.

Where was I? The kidneys, yeah.

“And if I refuse?”

Expose the rest of the organs. Can't cut those out without seeing the duodenum first.

“We’re going to move forward with another method of eradication.”

I forgot to pull the layers of muscle back. What's wrong with me?

Like the muscles on the corpse, Satoru's mouth twitches a few times but the words are stuck on his lips.

“We have agreed to give you a year to accomplish this.”

Maybe I should have written a list down.

Satoru scoffs.

As if that’s going to help anything.

The white flag waves. He mutters, “yes, sensei,” refusing to make eye contact with Yaga.

Probably should change my gloves.

“Now, if either of you hear anything from Suguru, we need to inform the higher ups. This has to be a fully transparent mission. You two are the most likely to hear from him, so I have discussed this with you first. Do not inform the other two about this. I am going to have a meeting with them to talk over what is necessary for them to know, but nothing further. You are dismissed.”

I just have to extract the brain now. 

His last words don’t release the students from their frozen states. Shock has trapped them in a preserved state as if rigor mortis has taken over. The final stage of death hasn’t yet set in. Relief isn’t coming for either of the two students.

Yaga is the first to exit the classroom. He does so without another word, just slowly saunters out of the room.

“I should kill all of the higher ups.”

Here it is, the final stage. The beginning of decomposition. The bodies Shoko works on never make it to this point, but she’s familiar with it nonetheless. Her most recent quiz was over postmortem hypostasis.

Funny timing.

“It would be so easy.” His muscles are flexible again. “I could do it in five minutes.” The enzymes are breaking them down. “They’re acting like I’m going to obey every command like some pet.” The cells are self-destructing.

“I am not going to fucking kill him.”

The skeleton is exposed. It's too late in decomposition. Can't go back now.

Before Shoko can move, Satoru stands. She watches as he walks out of the room, abandoning her inside.

The cave of the classroom swallows Shoko with no hesitation. The belly of the monster is dark by the time her body is ready to leave. Her fingers absentmindedly roll around the cloth of her jacket in tune with her departing footsteps. Her body aches.

The crickets break the peace when she exits the building. Summer is still here. Nature doesn’t need to process the damage. Everything has fallen apart in her world, yet nothing palpable is affected.

I’m jealous.

Her feet guide her to the safe haven that she desperately needs right now.

------

When Shoko arrives, she bumps into the door, allowing it to slowly creak open without an invitation. Utahime has her back to the door with headphones in, seemingly studying over her desk. Her long dark hair spills over the work, like a bottle of ink that has been knocked over.

Her fingertips gently caress her girlfriend’s hair before she puts her body weight on her shoulders, wrapping her arms around the older girl.

“Hey,” her voice is gentle. “Where have you been?”

Shoko fights the stinging tears in her eyes. She tries to keep her voice flat, heeding the warning in Yaga’s voice. “I was in a meeting with Yaga-sensei and Satoru.”

“Mmm,” Utahime starts, clearly unsure of how to proceed. Her arms wrap around Shoko's, holding onto her firmly.

“How have your studies been going?” Shoko inquires, hoping to get her mind off of what just occurred.

Utahime shrugs. “Fine, I guess. With finals coming up soon, I am only trying to focus on what they are putting in front of me. Trying to stay busy. Only one way to move forward.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Have you spoken to Satoru?”

Shoko releases her hold on her partner. Deciding it’s been too long without a smoke, she pulls a cigarette out, asking if Utahime minds. She mulls on the multiple ways she could answer the question. Shoko intently listens to the swaying trees, hoping they’ll share some wisdom.

“I know how close they were,” Utahime adds in a hushed voice. “I can’t imagine losing you like that.”

Shoko doesn’t want to unload everything for Satoru’s sake, but who else is she going to tell? Satoru won’t bring it up to her. Someone like that needs permission to fall apart.

“He seems, well, he’s Satoru. Annoying and cocky, but I am worried about him. Do you think we should set up an intervention? Maybe when Nanami returns?”

“We are going to have to wait to fill Nanami in first.” 

Right. He’s still living in the past.

If something else had occurred, something less drastic, maybe the school would have notified him. However, in the event of a student committing mass murder, they were unprepared for how to handle it. The higher ups don’t care enough about anyone’s feelings, but they definitely wouldn’t want the word to get out that one of his peers committed genocide against an entire village while he’s on holiday. There’s too much risk in his family finding out. There wasn’t anything he could do while he was here or away, so the news could wait.

Shoko finishes her cigarette and wanders back into Utahime’s room. Settling on the bed, she pats the spot next to her. The older girl faces her girlfriend, putting her legs into the brunette’s lap.

“I don’t know what Satoru is going to do,” whispers Shoko. “They treat him so terribly, even though he is just a kid, like the rest of us. He got the short end of the stick, drawing both the limitless and six eye technique.”

“You really think he’s got the short end of the stick?” questions Utahime, tilting her head. “He has you, and whether we like to admit it or not, he’s got me and Nanami as well. Yaga seems to tolerate him well enough. He needs to mature and stop being so arrogant, but they treat him as a god, so he can get away with it.”

The lack of support for Satoru catches Shoko by surprise. She has to fight the urge to reel back from the burn. Explanation tugs at her lips, but she knows she’s not supposed to share the information from Yaga.

Still, Utahime could be more understanding.

“He is a weapon, Utahime,” Shoko squints at her. “Just because he has all of us, doesn’t change the fact that he is built to be a machine in a human’s body. You didn’t see him after Amani’s death,” she puts her head in her hands. “I wish I had seen Suguru’s malfunctions then. If something had changed before her death, I think it could have been different.”

Utahime rests a hand on Shoko’s shoulder. Pink light from the sunset bounces off of her dark hair. She looks radiant in the small room. “We all wish we could have seen his warning signs, Shoko. You are aware there was nothing anyone could have done,” she says softly. “Unless someone can find a sorcerer with time travel capabilities, or maybe an alternate universe technique,” she starts to mumble about what that would be like. 

Shoko glares at her. 

“Oh, right, sorry. Satoru will be fine!” Utahime blushes as if she were a child getting caught stealing candy. “Yes, he is a weapon, but he is treated like a god here. He can handle it with all of our support.”

If it wasn’t for the warm smile on her partner’s lips, she would have thought that Utahime’s words came from a place of hatred for Shoko’s friend. She doesn’t want to believe that her girlfriend dislikes Satoru as much as her actions say she does. Choosing to trust that their competition is lighthearted, she lets go of the fear and leans on Utahime’s advice.

Longing claws at the back of her throat. She wants so desperately to tell Utahime what the meeting was about. If Utahime knew about the bounty, maybe she would be more open to seeing Shoko’s point of view. Even so, she is appreciative of Utahime’s efforts.

A cool summer night breeze drifts through the room. Light diminishes as the sun takes its final view of the Tokyo skyline before slipping behind the wall of the earth for the night.

“You want to spend the night in my room tonight?” Gentle fingers touch her chin, lifting Shoko’s gaze to meet hers.

“Yeah, I think that would be nice.”

“Let me clean up my work and then I’ll pick out a movie, okay?”

Shoko nods. Utahime plants a tender kiss on her forehead before walking back to her desk.

“I’m going to go get my pajamas. Do you want any snacks? Have you eaten yet?”

“Haven’t eaten yet, been too busy. I think there’s leftover sushi in the fridge if you could grab that?”

“Sure thing.” The door closes quietly behind Shoko as she steps into the dark hallway.

Shoko is planning to go to the kitchen and her room, but she had one more place to check first.

The door to the unclaimed room is slightly ajar. Exactly how she expected to find it.

She pushes it open a bit further, peering inside.

Satoru is lying on Suguru’s bed with his arms crossed. A white t-shirt is tight on his chest and black joggers are on his legs. Matching the joggers, a black blindfold covers his eyes.

Shoko tilts her head at the new accessory. She has only ever seen him with sunglasses on before. 

“Satoru?”

He doesn’t move.

“I’m grabbing dinner if you want to join.”

Silence greets her like an old friend. At this point, they’re on a first name basis.

“Ignoring your friends is considered rude in most countries. You can decline.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“For dinner or for being nice to your friend?” She crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe.

He sighs. “Sorry, Shoko, I really don’t have it in me tonight. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Something in her refuses to believe his pointless lies. Suguru isn’t the only one who can see through him.

She shuts the door, this time making a better plan.

Twenty minutes later, she shows up at the door again, but this time, she’s holding a plate of sweets. She had to search for a while, but in the far corner of a cabinet she discovered a box of daifuku that admittedly, she’s not sure what the expiration date was on it, but at this point, she didn’t care. All she wanted was to have something to offer her friend.

Like Utahime said, support is what he needs, and this is one of the only ways she can think of to offer it.

----------

Satoru

When Shoko returns to the room with desserts, Satoru’s heart stops for the second time today.

The snacks she found were stashed by Suguru for when he offended Satoru or when Satoru was generally having a rough day.

Both happened a lot more than Suguru would have liked to admit.

He’s still adjusting to the blindfold, but it provides the privacy that he hoped. The fabric soaks his tears up like a sponge.

Pretty convenient, huh? Like Suguru leaving these for me.

Satoru lets himself fall over the cliff of curiosity. Had Suguru planned any of this? Purposefully left anything behind for him?

He pulls his lifeless body out of the canyon of wonder. Satoru refuses to let himself gape at the possibilities. He needs to move on.

“Thanks, Shoko.”

She isn’t wrong. He should be kinder to his friend who’s trying to take care of him. The generosity isn’t only new to him, but his body still bristles at the touch.

“Don’t be a stranger. Not right now.” Her face matches her stern tone as she hands him the food. Satoru feels like a child getting scolded. “I’m hanging out in Utahime’s room tonight. You can always come by.”

She stares into the blindfold as if she can see see right through it. “We want to support you.”

Satoru swallows thickly before responding. “Thank you.”

The room is silent once again. The desserts are set on the desk, waiting to be devoured. Satoru’s stomach scolds him for not eating, but the food glares back, taunting him.

---------

Shoko

September 28th, 2007

The ice in the coffee Shoko is holding makes a soft noise as they bump into each other during each of her steps. This is the only noise the quiet library hears. Utahime is sitting across from the doorway with her nose buried deep into a book that reads in delicate Kanji The Tale of Genji.

Shoko stops at the edge of the table, loudly drinking from the straw. 

She clears her throat next.

Her foot nudges Utahime’s underneath the table.

Still nothing.

“Utahime!”

The girl jumps, acting as if she didn’t hear any of the dramatic noises Shoko was making. She jerks her head out from the book rapidly. “What? What did I miss?”

“Were you asleep just now?”

She rolls her eyes before pointedly saying, “I haven’t been sleeping well. I am overwhelmed with finals and need to get some rest where I can. Sometimes you snore and our rooms aren’t soundproof.”

“Maybe if we shared a bed less frequently, you wouldn’t have that problem.”

Utahime blushes and hides her face behind the book she was so clearly not paying attention to. “You seriously have to blow the cover I gave us?” she hissed\s, glancing around as if they were children playing a prank, about to get caught.

“I think it’s funny watching you squirm,” she giggles. “Besides, we are the only ones here.”

The chair makes a loud squeak as Shoko’s free hand pulls it out to sit across from her girlfriend. It’s surprisingly cold to the touch.

From across the library, sunlight pours in through the open door as Nanami shuffles in. A backpack is casually slung over his shoulder, a hot coffee cup in the hand that’s not holding his bag. He doesn’t have his uniform on, instead he is wearing black joggers and a loose navy button down. As usual, a tired expression rests on his face. Spotting the two of them, he casually makes his way over to the table.

“Have a poor vacation?” Shoko inquires, leaning forward on her elbows, propping her face in her hands.

He unenthusiastically glances at her with droopy eyes, bags visible underneath them. “You are seriously asking me that?” The bag slides off of his shoulder, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

“I was merely trying to make it a less uncomfortable conversation since you just got back,” Shoko responded, hands in the air. “I take it Yaga spoke with you?”

“First thing that happened when I returned,” Nanami sighs, taking a seat next to Utahime. “The last thing I was expecting to come back to. I honestly expected Gojo to snap first.”

“Aside from the fact that we have a cooking chart now, right?” Utahime joins in on the banter, bumping into Nanami. Shoko chuckles; at least she was trying to lift the spirits.

To no one’s surprise, it doesn’t work. Nanami rolls his half-lidded eyes, undoubtedly over their jokes. None of them want to discuss what happened, but Suguru had not given them a choice in the matter.

“Have you seen Satoru?” Shoko inquires. She intentionally left the ‘outside of Suguru’s room’ part out. Neither of them needed to hear about his weaknesses. The claws of hope have Shoko in a tight grasp as she waits for an answer.

Nanami shakes his head. “I set my overnight bag in my room, was called to speak to Yaga, and then set out to find you two. Yaga said you’d probably be here studying, and I decided discussing it with you would be in all of our best interest. I haven’t sought him out yet.”

“Don’t even know what I’d say,” he adds.

Shoko sighs, her faith in finding a different answer spiraling down the drain. She and Utahime exchange looks. Her eyes fall to her coffee as it sweats onto the layer of tension that’s clutching the table.

 It seems a little suspicious that all three of them had been spoken to separately, but then again, they are all in different years of studying. Shoko wants to fill the other two in on the bounty that was placed on Suguru’s head, but that is a risk she isn’t sure she is willing to take. Unfortunately for Satoru, it is best to let him just handle the situation, as there is not any part of it the other three could handle.

Nanami begins the conversation, which Shoko is very grateful for. 

“So, he just left, huh? No explanation to anyone prior to committing genocide on his village and family?” His voice is hushed as if the books are going to share their secrets. It’s not like there is anyone to keep this a secret from anyways, everyone in the country has heard of the devastation landed on the village.

“Yeah, I guess that’s how it happened. I know he was given a task in his home village the day it happened, but I can’t recall the last time I saw him before he left. After the news broke, I stumbled upon him before Satoru did. Suguru seemed relieved, happy even. He smiled for the first time since Amani’s death,” as Shoko recalls the events, her body stiffened. Her fingers absentmindedly reach for a cigarette. “He lit my cigarette like always,” she lets out a hollow laugh. 

“He explained that he feels alone in his decision. I snickered and told him that he was immature. I wanted to remind him that no one could make the world perfect, not even Satoru, though he already knew that. I don't think my opinion would have affected anything. There’s not a way back from this. He made his choice and that’s the plane of existence we live in. I hope everyone knows that nothing could have stopped him. I hope for that to bring some peace to all of us.”

Nanami stirs, shifting in his seat. It doesn’t take him long to process what she had said. 

“I think we should just focus on collectively moving forward.”

Shoko leans back, crossing her arms. She understands that Nanami wants to move past this, but they still need to process their grief. He hasn’t spoken much about Haibara’s death, but maybe he isn’t interested in discussing his feelings with her.

The three of them sit in a pool of friction, waiting for someone to break the surface. It persists in its existence, growing with a nauseating silence. Neither of them give her any information about their discussion with the principal. If they don’t know about Satoru’s mission to hunt down Suguru, she doesn’t want to be the one to tell them. Still, it feels like they have a right to know.

Nanami’s question slices the thickness right open, spilling its contents into the air. “Did Yaga tell you about Satoru’s new mission?”

Shoko blinks. “Yeah, I was there when it was delivered to him.”

Nanami grimaces so slightly that it is barely noticeable. Utahime slowly turns her face to view Shoko’s. Beneath the table, their hands meet.

The absence of sound is deafening. This library, which has previously been filled with laughter bouncing off of the walls, is currently haunting her with those same sounds. Shoko swears it was mocking her, letting the sounds ring in her ears as she sits in the room with two, rather than five students. She flinches when Utahime’s hand squeezed hers, bringing her back to reality. Utahime squeezes Shoko’s hand again, giving her a warm smile. Shoko clears her throat. She nods briefly, grateful to have Utahime’s calming presence.

“I was there when he received the mission. He was quiet, but stable, I guess. There wasn’t anything to say aside from agreeing to it. In all honesty, I am furious with the admin, but what else could they do?” her voice becomes quiet. “Gojo is the strongest now. If they send anyone else after him, it would be a sacrifice.

The words continue to drop from her mouth. Nothing matters anymore. She’s not saying anything the two aren’t aware of.

“It’s just fucking ridiculous that now is the time they don’t want to yield to the inevitable death, isn’t it?”

“We don’t have enough sorcerers to lose, Shoko,” the younger student finally defends his views. “It’s just Gojo, Utahime, and myself now. Gojo should have been put on every mission in the first place since he’s literally untouchable. He could have prevented Haibara’s death, which would have potentially adjusted the path that we were speeding towards.”

“Why am I the only one out of the three of us defending him right now?”

“If they’re going to send him after Geto and make Utahime and I follow up on the missions he doesn’t have time for, why couldn’t they have balanced things better for all of us prior to this happening? I know that we are stronger than we were then, but now with less of us, he can completely back off?”

“Do you think he’s even going to do it?”

 Utahime and Nanami seem stunned by the question. Out of the three, Shoko is the one who knows Satoru the best but the question was heavy on the back of her tongue and she wants someone else’s opinion.

“Are we in danger if he doesn’t?” Her girlfriend’s voice wavers, but the tone is strong.

“He could have easily finished all of us off if he wanted to.”

“But he massacred the village while he was sent on that mission. Did he come back here afterwards?”

The question catches Shoko at an intersection. She could be truthful and tell them by the looks of his room no, and also the fact that she didn’t see him until Shinjuku. The other path tempts her to lead with the fact that he was wearing an outfit that the Suguru they know likely wouldn’t have.

He probably picked them up from his parents house before killing them.

“I don’t know.” She picks at her fingernails while debating how to continue. “You guys sure are acting like you were never friends with him.”

“He’s not someone I know anymore.”

A stone sinks to the bottom of Shoko’s stomach. The paint on her nails comes off in chunks, falling onto the table in front of her. She can’t meet her girlfriend’s eyes.

Nanami joins in the battle, mediating the two. “Gojo is going to protect Jujutsu High. He may be an idiot, but he’s not stupid. Nor is he afraid of the higher ups. He’s going to do what he has to, and so should we. Like I said, we should move past this.”

The three of them existed in the absence of noise again, but this time none of them break it. No one can offer any alternative option.

Shoko is almost positive Suguru knows that the higher ups have told Satoru to eliminate him. Satoru’s words roll around in her mind like marbles. Suguru doesn’t hate Satoru or any of them, but how could he have left knowing they’d all be here to pick up the pieces?

She props her head up in her chin, watching the other two sorcerers. Utahime is back to reading the novel as if she’s been enthralled with it the entire time. Nanami decided to pull out schoolwork that he probably procrastinated finishing while he was with his family.

The plastic straw rotates in her cup while she considers.

Suguru knows they can’t let him go free without the fingers of the entire jujutsu society being pointed at them. Conflict is a hell of a pill to swallow and jujutsu society was known to avoid it at any cost.

Darkness seizes the sky outside like a veil, reflecting the atmosphere inside the building. She stands up first, conducting a clear gesture that their meeting is over. “See you tomorrow?” She offers to Nanami. He returns a firm, blunt nod, packing the laptop into his bag without another word.

“You coming?”

“Uh, sure,” Utahime debates for a moment before following in Shoko’s footsteps.

Breathing in the humidity resets Shoko’s nervous system. The stars are being held hostage by the clouds looming above. The moon tries to repel the darkness, but it is unsuccessful in its attempts more often than not at the high school. 

Cicadas sing as she and her partner slowly wander through the night using the intermittent light to view the path. A cool breeze shifts through every few minutes, causing the trees to sway around them.

The unease unfortunately didn’t stay in the library, instead it follows Utahime and Shoko on their way back to the corridor. 

With the darkness on their side, she grabs Utahime’s hand on the way to their rooms. She hopes that it’s clear, even through their disagreement, that she’s relieved to be with her. Sometimes you have to accept the facts of life for what they are; the truth, and they are written in black and white.

Chapter Text

Suguru

December 7th, 2007

The sun’s rays are the only light shining over Suguru’s feet as he closes the door to the Time Vessel Association’s cold, damp building. The rustling of bags that are full of stolen goods is the only life present in the hallway. Cool winter air pulls the dark blue fabric of the robe he wears just out of reach of the closing door.

A few things just so happened to work out in Suguru’s favor. He refuses to believe that he deserved for these things to go right for him, but he won’t complain either. Bills for the building he now calls home had been taken care of so far. He isn’t sure how long the lights are going to stay on but he’s going to ignore the questions until they manifest into problems.

The first few months in his new home proved to be more difficult than he had expected, but things have been manageable. The two girls he adopted, Mimiko and Nananko, required a lot of intense care while they were recovering from their injuries. Being that he was able to rely on Shoko for so long, he had forgotten how difficult healing was without the assistance of the reversed curse technique.

On top of that, he didn’t make any plans prior to finding a reserve here. Having to support himself and two children as a seventeen-year old wasn’t anything he expected to have to prepare for, so he wasn’t exactly ready for it.

A community would be helpful right now, wouldn’t it?

Suguru grimaces as images of his village speed through his mind as if they are placed on a film strip. In the memory, he walks down a lively village road, bringing his dad lunch on a quiet summer day. As he passes neighbors, he politely bows, greeting them kindly. Compliments of what a nice young boy he is flood his ears and swell in his chest. Children that he has babysat before run through the channels of his brain, their laughter echoing throughout the streets.

The images turn sour as blue flames licked the ceiling of thought. The giggling fades into the screams and cries of his fellow villagers. The pride he felt melts into a hollow emptiness as he settles into the recollection of the final day he spent with them. After the adrenaline wore off, the terror came back with a vengeance. Suguru’s revenge may have been enacted, but the horror is thirstier now, seeking out a new retaliation.

Where are the girls? That’s what he needs to think about. 

More recently, the curse user had started to carefully seek out crimes that he determined were caused by a curse that would be helpful for his inventory. With a delicate hand, he picked missions that were just outside of one of two ranges, preferably outside of Tokyo, but if a weak curse presented itself inside the range of Jujutsu High, he’d go after that, too. Helping sorcerers wasn’t the reason, but because Suguru needs to keep up on his skillset.

The bags make a heavy thud on the counter as he sets them in the small kitchen. Cold crumbs of rice are spilled on the floor and chopsticks are left out on the counter. Suguru chuckles.

The girls themselves are easy to take care of. Nanako tries her best to be self-sufficient, even though she’s only five. Against his wishes, she tries to prepare food for herself and her sister when Suguru is out working. Children are insatiable creatures.

He softly pads through the building, past the scattered toys in the makeshift living space that he had put together for the three of them. A small lamp showers the room in a golden glow, highlighting the twins’ favorite stuffed animals that have been abandoned, seemingly in a hurry. Tilting his head at the sight, he keeps moving. They have to be around here somewhere.

 So far, has Suguru collected enough items for children to call this place a home? Probably not to any authority, but the humans that would say he’s unfit to take care of the girls should be eliminated for their sins of being weak. Their opinions matter as much to him as their lives do.

“Mimiko-san? Nananko-san?” A knuckle gently taps on the closed door to their bedroom. “Are you guys in there?”

“Yes, Geto-sama!” He can hear the girls mumbling to each other, but it's incoherent. 

“Are you two hungry? I brought senbei home.”

The two girls stumble out of the room in the manner he guesses they would if Suguru had told them he bought them the Tamagotchis they have been asking for.

The door flies open and the girls simultaneously knock into his legs. Inside their bedroom he can see discarded toys laying on the floor. Suguru nearly falls over as he catches both of them. “You’ll have to eat dinner first, but we can have some for dessert, okay?”

“We already ate dinner! Nanako made it for us! I want senbei now please.” A small hand tugs at his robe while Mimiko points in the direction of the kitchen.

Nanako looks down the hall considering a quick escape before her eyes meet the floor.

“I thought we discussed not making food while I’m gone, Nanako-san.”

“We got hungry,” she whines in return. “You were gone for so long and my tummy was grumbling and we just had onigiri.”

“What about me?” He teases, bending down to meet her eyes. “You guys don’t want to eat dinner with me?”

“We do, we can sit together with senbei.”

Suguru laughs. Her attempts to correct the situation win him over. “Sure, let’s go eat senbei for dinner.”

Giggles come from the duo as they grab each other’s hands, and run in the direction that Suguru had come from. He shakes his head and follows them to the kitchen.

----------

Evening arrives before his thoughts go to Satoru, returning to him in an endless loop. It’s a track that Suguru can’t escape, no matter how many times he tries to find a way out.

The girls have been put to bed, leaving Suguru to himself. He sits on the couch that the cult member’s corpses left behind, sliding an old animated movie he found into the dvd player. A familiar song plays from the device. Suguru tenses as recognition hits him.

This is one of Satoru’s favorite movies.

Of course it is.

It’s the only entertainment he has aside from children’s movies, so he lets it play. The theme song rips the scar that he thought was healed open with one foul swoop. No mercy is shown. Suguru doesn’t think he deserves it anyways.

Sleep had been evading Suguru, or the other way around. He avoided it because it was still nothing more than a trap. His eyes were very droopy and hard to keep open, but the aura of Fushigoro Toji was hidden behind them. The man was still lodged into Suguru’s brain, he just looked different now.

Suguru lays on the couch, letting the film continue in the background while he stares at the ceiling. His mind wanders to Satoru, stuck on the same track that it always has been, chasing his tail in endless circles.

I wonder what how he’s celebrating this year.

----------

~ December 7th, 2006 ~

Typically, Satoru’s birthdays were spent with the entire group renting out a karaoke room, getting sickeningly intoxicated, and then finding somewhere to find sweet treats afterwards.

It was always predictable, when Satoru was going to start experiencing hunger. Suguru counted the drinks in Satoru’s hand, waiting for the fourth or for his eyes to get half lidded and droopy. The two were usually mutually exclusive, but the longer they were friends, the less guessing Suguru had to perform. The pattern mimicked his method for obtaining curses. Count Satoru’s drinks, feed him, and repeat. So much simpler back then.

Last year, for Satoru’s final teenage birthday, he wasn’t able to take the day off, but he worked in the quickest fashion he could, as he had promised his friends that he would be back that night to celebrate. Satoru wouldn’t be himself if he skipped an event that honored him.

A rock album softly filtered through the room on the record player. Unbeknownst to them, Thee Machine Gun Elephant was holding Suguru together Tengen-sama protects the barriers of Jujutsu High. Their album has been on repeat for the last week, proved by the scratch marks on the vinyl from Suguru flipping it back and forth, back and forth. He tries to at least be considerate, shutting it off at a decent time so his neighbors aren’t bothered by it. Neither of them ever complained, but he hardly gave them the opportunity, as he didn’t leave the room very much during these days.

Before the sun disappeared, Suguru had pulled himself together as much as he could, knowing that as soon as there was only artificial light left, his energy would dissipate. His uniform sat in the corner of his small closet, but he pushed past it, grabbing an oversized black crewneck and a comfortable pair of black harem pants. Converse are slipped onto his feet before he pulls his hair into a low bun. 

Once he’s done, he laid on the bed again. It was still warm from his body heat. It was the spot that he’s been returning to time and time again. Nothing else provided the consistency that he was desperate for.

The ceiling became boring after a while. Suguru quietly hummed the song with his eyes closed, letting the notes waft through the room. The track had advanced to one of his favorite tunes, the one in a minor chord that struck his chest smoothly. Guitar rifts tugged as his heart strings, dragging a couple of wet tears down his cheeks.

A knock at the door jolted him out of the spot, but before he could make himself look presentable, Satoru burst inside.

“Suguru! You weren’t waiting for me,” he pouted as entered the room, not stopping to wait for an invitation. “You ready to get food and celebrate me?” He stopped, tilting his head. “Are you okay?”

The strongest sorcerer was wearing a black turtleneck that’s clear of any single wrinkle, tucked into black jeans. In his left arm he was holding a blue grey coat with faux fur around the collar. Sunglasses that Suguru hadn’t seen before sit on the bridge of his pink, winter bitten nose. The lenses are navy blue held by silver frames. His hair was brushed down smooth but slightly wet from the snowflakes that had recently melted into it. 

Suguru quickly wiped the moisture from his face. The thought of eating made his stomach churn. The last time he tried to eat the chopsticks felt foreign in his hands, akin to a musician picking up an instrument they’ve never played before. The tools weren’t able to be lifted past a few inches above the bowl. Growls came from his stomach, but the sorcerer ignored the request for help. Maybe tomorrow will be better, he thought.

The thought repeated daily. Tomorrow never came.

“Yeah, sorry. I was just, uh,” he looked around the room, hoping an excuse would manifest as smoothly as a curse. His dry throat complains as he clears it, but he hadn’t been able to convince himself to consume anything aside from the curses he’s been ordered to by the higher ups.

Satoru slowly walked towards his friend, crossing the room in only a few steps with his long legs. Excitement was now absent, replaced with concern all over his face. “Suguru, what’s going on?” His hand twitches at his side, an action that only Suguru would notice, as he scans the dark haired man’s face, searching for answers within the etched lines of his skin. 

“I’m fine, Satoru, I just woke up from a weird dream. I’m glad you’re back.” 

I missed you.

Those words were lodged in the back of his throat, unable to be pried out. He wished he could have said them, but if Satoru discovered that Suguru was lonely without him, he wouldn’t want to continue the missions that he’s been enjoying so much. Satoru thrived on being needed, being helpful, and Suguru didn’t want to ruin that.

Nor did he want to erase the boundaries. Once he brought it up, time couldn’t be reversed. The words would exist in every timeline, even if somehow they had a chance to switch to a different one, a blurred line was still real. They couldn’t ignore it.

So, Suguru let the unspoken truth between the two that was proven time and time again hang in the air. He was sure time would be on their side. There would be a better day to bring it up.

The lie was surprisingly easy. After months of rehearsing, lying to his friends at home, then family, and now Satoru, it had become a part of Suguru. Scribbled into his bones like the way Satoru rushes to write his name in delicate Kanji on exams. The way that Satoru is etched into his bones now too. Thankfully, the teenager ate it up as if it was a birthday cake.

“Maybe if we sleep in the same room tonight I’ll be able to ward the nightmares off for you.”

“Sure, Satoru.” He picks up the gift that was laying on his desk. The black paint on his nails was starting to chip off. Suguru made a mental note to redo them. 

In his hands was a small box wrapped in light blue paper with a dragon printed on it in dark blue ink. When the present is extended, Suguru thinks about his mom. He can’t place why. Maybe he should call her.

“Happy birthday.”

The gift was snatched out of his hands faster than he could finish the words. Shredded paper decorated the floor, mimicking the snowflakes outside, but instead of melting, they were everlasting hues of cerulean.

When Suguru explored the streets of the pop culture filled city of Akihabara, he was seeking something that effortlessly shouted Satoru. A gift for the person who had it all, and if he didn’t, it was already in his reach. Someone who isn’t appreciated enough. For someone who doesn’t know how much he is cherished for everything that he does.

So when Suguru’s amethyst eyes land on the keychain, something inside tells him, yes. The puzzle piece clicked into place. This was made for Satoru. The factory may not have known the powerful person who was going to love this gift, but Suguru does. The world doesn’t know of the strife that the sorcerer puts himself through for them. They don’t acknowledge that he is the reason that that factory is still running, but Suguru would. The teenager who was going to sport this trinket with a feeling that’s more than love deserves the world. Certainly more than Suguru could give him. But still, he wanted to try.

Satoru’s eyes widened while he held the charm between the two sorcerers. Suguru’s half lidded eyes noticed a slight vermillion tinge on the front of Satoru’s cheeks. His nose had returned to normal temperature by now. Suguru’s heart skipped a beat in sync with the record skipping in the corner of the room.

Satoru beamed, lighting the room up, influencing Suguru to question if daylight had returned. “Suguru, it’s adorable. Thank you.”

The laugh that enveloped Suguru was something he had forgotten about. It was buried underneath the mountain of sorrow that he added to every day. The small details of Satoru had been floating away like morpheus butterflies. He hadn’t even noticed.

Arms wrapped around Suguru in a warm embrace. He hoped the gift receiver hadn't noticed how dense his body was, like tofu before being pressed. Forcing himself to breathe and relax, Suguru melted into the touch of his best friend. It had been how long since they existed in the same space? It’s been since September, right? His mind was fuzzy, similar to the blossoming petals of a sakura tree.

Something deeper than nostalgia danced underneath his skin. Why couldn’t this be a more frequent gesture between the two? He would still do anything to be near Satoru.

As soon as Satoru lets the obsidian haired sorcerer go, he pulls his phone out to attach the new Digimon charm to it. “That’s much better. I needed something for it. Some personality. It was too boring.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” Suguru’s laugh is shallow, but there’s effort behind it. He wanted to try for Satoru. The sorcerer had been working so hard on keeping the others safe, it's the least he can do. Satoru hadn’t abandoned him. Instead he had been trusting him with the task of balancing the scales at the school while he was gone.

A crystal gaze swallowed him whole. His hands were latched to Suguru’s arms. Their faces were inches apart. Were they toeing the line? Absolutely.

Did Suguru care?

The seconds felt like minutes as Suguru thought about taking the plunge into the icy waters. Would they be as cold as he expected? 

No.

Suguru didn’t care.

Their breath was entangled in the way that he thinks their souls likely are, though he never got around to asking Satoru.

A cold hair touched Suguru’s burning face. His heart raced as he realized that Satoru was going to undo him. Whether he knew it or not, it was happening right in front of his blue eyes.

Panic rose in his throat. It tasted like bile. Violet eyes avoided the stare, pinned to the rug that was now covered in wrapping paper. I’m fine, Satoru. Please don’t pry. I don’t want to ruin your birthday.

A blink and then the hand fell. Satoru stepped backwards.

“Can we go get food now? I think everyone’s ready.” The birthday teen’s voice was flat.

A frown rested on Suguru’s face, but the person didn’t notice. He didn’t wait for confirmation, he just wandered out of the room with his phone in his hands again, clicking as he presumably texted the others.

The record skipped matching the memory that repeated in Suguru’s mind as he stood frozen in the center of the room. That damn scratch had been catching the vinyl and Satoru’s touch caught his brain.

Did I misread that

Once the line was removed from the hook he was caught on, Suguru moved to stop the record. He thought he had done it delicately, but his hand betrayed him. It fell too heavily onto the tonearm, causing the needle to dig into his precious record. Suguru’s heart sank as he cursed underneath his breath.

He extracted the needle from the record with blurry eyes, not noticing that the needle was now broken, too.

With a fur lined leather coat in his arms, Suguru sighed, leaving the broken vinyl inside. He’ll deal with it later. The corridor was loud with the echoes of laughter from his friends that were waiting to board the train to the city. Suguru was running behind because he was trying to pick up the remnants of his sanity that was slipping through his fingers.

It’s just one night. Plus, it’s Satoru’s birthday. Put on a nice smile. You haven’t been out in months. You can make it through one evening.

Satoru will be there. This is all you have wanted.

The winter air swarmed the teenagers who were huddled together like penguins as close as they were willing to get to each other. Satoru demanded to be in the middle, as it was his birthday, so everyone could keep him warm.

The sorcerers’ breath was visible in the cold weather. It evaporated into the sky that was lit up with neon signs on the streets of Akihabara. Satoru had chosen an arcade in the busy neighborhood, claiming that this would have something for everyone. He said he was trying to ‘broaden his horizons’ by being generous

Satoru walked side by side with his best friend, occasionally bumping into him while chatting about the most recent curse he’d exorcised. Suguru held an umbrella over the two of them. Because he was someone who could have anything he wanted, it was the small gestures that meant the most to Satoru. Suguru’s hand was starting to turn purple from being exposed to the winter air, but he didn’t complain. The stinging pain kept him present. He thought his gloves were inside of his coat’s pockets, but they must’ve been misplaced.

There was a discomfort in the air, but Suguru tried to ignore it. This was the first time since before their failed mission that the six were together and unbeknownst to them at the time, the last they would have before Haibara’s death. No one mentioned Suguru’s recent absence while they were together. Suguru thought it was an unacknowledged promise to protect his best friend in the way he was doing the same for his peers.

Utahime and Shoko were in front of the boys, their hair swinging back and forth with each click of a heel. For the first time in months, Suguru felt like he had control of himself rather than being a marionette for the higher ups to position. The laughter came out effortlessly as Satoru described his adventure. His presence was enough to make Suguru forget about how forced his motions were as he repeated the same actions over and over again.

“We’re almost there, right? If only I could choose the weather on my birthday. I think I’d actually have it all if I could do that.”

“You’re already the most powerful,” Shoko calls from in front of them. “You’re insatiable.”

“Tch. All I want is one more thing. Is that too much to ask? Suguru!” An arm clutches his shoulder. With wide eyes, Satoru makes his request. “Go find a curse that you can manipulate the weather with!”

“Yeah, okay. If you have any leads, I’ll do that.”

Didn’t Satoru know all he had to do was ask? Suguru would have ripped the blanket of stars from the sky if Satoru petitioned for it. 

“Do I have to do everything?” Satoru groans.

“Dude, you're not the one who has to consume the literal vomit infused curse. He would be doing a lot for you,” Nanami’s defense surprised Suguru.

Suguru isn’t sure how Nanami knows about the taste of cursed spirits.

“He already does.” 

The response was quiet and not directed back at the younger sorcerer. The white-haired sorcerer’s face is angled down ever so slightly. His ears and nose are covered in a shade of cherry red and the tone is creeping onto his cheeks. Suguru feels the color reaching his face in the same spot.

His anxiety was drowned by laughter from the group. Satoru led the group from game to game, spending time with everyone in the group. It was a relief to see him enjoying everyone’s company, rather than just sticking by Suguru’s side.

While Satoru was playing a game with the girls, Nanami, Suguru, and Haibara went on a snack run, per Satoru’s request, of course. He didn’t know that the three had already planned on picking up an ichigo cake for him.

Haibara glanced around to ensure the other three were out of sight before asking if Suguru had called the bakery.

“Yeah, they said they’d have it. We have to grab daifuku too, though. It was his request.”

“Yum! I’m sure this is going to make his night.”

Once they were outside, Suguru sent a quick text to Shoko, letting her know that they were waiting for them. Haibara and Nanami left to go pick up the daifuku, because Suguru had forgotten that they couldn’t bring the cake inside the arcade. They made a plan to meet up at the bakery to celebrate together.

The bitter air made his fingers blue once again. A flurry of snowflakes danced through the air, showering his hair and coat in kisses. As soon as he thinks of Satoru, the teenager pops out of the building in front of him.

“Hey. Where are Nanami and Haibara?”

“I sent them to grab your desserts.” A cigarette waves in his numb fingers. “I needed Shoko’s lighter.

The waves of Satoru’s eyes roll. “You sure you didn’t just realize you’d rather be spending time with me?”

“No, actually, I’m not sure.”

Satoru was caught off guard by the confident answer. The teenager tried to hide his wavering expression, but Suguru was too observant. The quiet people usually are. Suguru watched the wheels turn inside of his mind as he processed what he was just told. The words between the lines. A bit of a push. Rocks crumbled as Satoru walked the edge of the cliff. Would he fall or fly?

“I knew it.” A gentle shade of red laced the top of Satoru’s ears.

A smile settled on Suguru’s lips. He couldn’t figure out where a new form of confidence  came from, but he opened his arms to it. A feeling that he desperately wanted to hold onto. He nudged Satoru’s shoulder gently, inviting him into his space. It was his turn to break the barrier.

His soulmate had still not recovered from the unexpected affection. His body stuttered as if it was the first time that he had seen the mountains. When you have been waiting for so long for a pattern to change and it finally does, but instead of excitement, shock takes over first. You blink, unintentionally comically rub your eyes, and then remind yourself to breathe. The fresh air unlocks the key to your lungs, which comes with its own unexpected feelings. It feels like new life is sprouting and it’s something you can’t return from.

“How’s another birthday surprise sound?” Shoko had a cigarette in her mouth while she spoke.

The spell had been broken by the sharp voice of the healer. A mask of prepared expressions was slid back onto his face. It was a motion that only someone who had studied Satoru like he was a beloved statue, a figure of honor and worship, would have noticed.

Suguru saw the chunks taken out of the disguise, but it still worked.

“What kind of question is that? Aren’t you supposed to be one of my closest friends?”

Shoko laughs, short and brief. The flame touches the end of her cigarette. “Yeah, yeah. Something like that.”

Utahime and Shoko led the two to Satoru’s new surprise, leaving him and Suguru walking side by side in the winter night. The night was still young, but the sun said goodbye hours ago, leaving the flashing signs as the only light present. A light layer of snow crunched underneath their steps as the four walked through the street.

Satoru and Suguru gave the girls a few feet of distance, enough to talk quietly without being heard, although no words were exchanged. The umbrella was being carried in Suguru’s right hand, the one on the outside, leaving his hand that was closest to Satoru’s empty.

The veins in Suguru’s hands were electric with something akin to anxiety, but more structured. A tangible thing that was closer to possibility than the fear of the unknown. It buzzed underneath his skin in a harmonious chant, requesting that he make a move.

The sorcerer licked his dry lips and glanced down at the open hand. His mind went back to that night that was as grainy as the pixels on Satoru’s Nintendo’s screen. The evening with a similar ache inside of his hand.

And then there was earlier today.

There was earlier today when their breath tangled, when Suguru’s mind finally felt clear under the touch of Satoru’s gentle fingers. Though it didn’t last long, those few seconds were full of freedom from the second guessing that didn’t belong there.

Suguru pressed his lips together while side eyeing the exposed hand between them. Satoru would probably be on a mission tomorrow, which would give them time apart if Suguru had miscalculated the movements earlier. Those problems could be tomorrow’s problems. He didn’t think that Satoru would let the misinterpretation ruin his birthday.

Damn, my fingers are cold.

Suguru looked down at his suddenly warm fingers.

Knitted between the spaces of his fingers and stuck at the palm was Satoru’s hand.

It was warm.

Not because his fingers weren’t cold, but from the warmth that radiated between their hands. So hot it was visible, like explosions between their skin.

Suguru blinked, trying to hide his panic. He willed his fingers to move, to return the tender grip that Satoru had on his hands. When the motion came, it was too strong; he squeezed the hand in his when his muscles finally surrendered to his direction. A small laugh escaped from the space between Satoru’s lips. It was so quiet that it should have been buried underneath the layer of chatter in the streets, from the splashes from the steps of feet in puddles, and from the soft rubbing of winter clothes. It shouldn’t have been audible, but Suguru could have unwound Satoru’s laugh from even the biggest symphony orchestra.

Their feet fell into a slower synchronicity. A mutual agreement to soak in every second of this moment while they were able to hide in it. Huddled together as if their next step was going to rip their hands apart.

Footsteps echoed as Suguru was suddenly being yanked into a dark alley. Confusion written all over his face, he whispered to Satoru, “What are you doing?”

He was cut off by shushes from Satoru who pushed him against the building next to them. Their bodies were flat against the wall, chests heaving, hands still tangled together. The taller sorcerer was closer to the entrance to the alley, watching for a few minutes to make sure they were alone. 

Suguru’s heart was racing, his stomach doing anxious, excited flips.

It’s now, isn’t it

In a moment of courage, because that’s all it takes, Satoru presses his body against Suguru’s. The cold wall flesh against his leather coat. Sunglasses slid down the curve of Satoru’s nose, exposing his line of sight.

His eyes were on Suguru’s mouth for just a few seconds before his lips were.

The invisible boundary that was never discussed dissipated into the air along with their hot breath that escaped between the seconds of separation of their lips, teeth, and tongue. Satoru’s hands were clutching the collar of Suguru’s leather jacket, pulling him closer to his body as if he was the only lifeline Satoru had. The shorter sorcerer gave into the pressure, allowing himself to be pulled into the depths of his soulmate.

Heat swarmed through Suguru’s frigid body. Satoru’s lips were as soft and smooth as he expected. Desperation poured through their movements in the tones of passion. Relief rushed through his blue veins. A weight was lifted off of his shoulders, but his hands were still clutching the rope that had burned him. The wounds were real, but he wasn’t going to let it go.

This is all he’s ever needed. Everything started coming to him now. The moving parts clicked as if someone had just polished the machines. The pain and suffering bled out of his body and was replaced with something stronger, something with a thicker skin. He knew that this new feeling wasn't ever going to leave. If their souls are already coiled together, this has to mean that they’re merging. This was the end of everything he knew, and Suguru welcomed it with open arms. He’d give anything to let this stay.

His hands found Satoru’s waist underneath his coat, grateful to finally be in warmth again. His frozen fingers linked in the open belt loops and yanked the taller boy’s body as close to his as physically possible.

The response this triggered in Satoru drove Suguru mad. He gasped when their hips collided, pulling his mouth away from the dark haired teenagers for just a few minutes. The way his fingers weren’t cold when they brushed Suguru’s jaw was a surprise, but an invited one. The heat that was passed between the two sorcerers caused his body to sweat. 

One of Satoru’s hands gently caressed the sharp jawline as he leaned in for another kiss. This one was gentle, not like a wave crashing. This one was deliberate. Gentle, yet still dripping in the desperation that the others had held

Suguru looked up ever so slightly, meeting the cobalt eyes above him. His breath was shaky, his throat thick with nerves that he can’t remember allowing to take space there.

“That’s what I was doing,” the words came out breathlessly. The couple stared into each other’s eyes, dropping their gaze to lips, and then back to eyes again. Suguru notes how plush Satoru’s lips are after their makeout session. His cells rush to the pressure that is placed on his face and on his neck.

The touch was good. So good. Suguru’s fingers were warm by now, but he didn’t release his grasp. Their chests heaved together and their hot breath was visible in the air.

“We should probably go find the rest of them before they figure us out,” Satoru mumbled, yet he didn’t move a muscle.

Suguru nods, lavender eyes still stuck on the crystals in front of him.

“Are-are you okay?” A chuckle. “You haven’t spoken in like, thirty minutes. Can’t have been bad, right? I mean, it was me, I’m not bad at anything,” his voice trails off.

“Yes, I’m fine. Good,” he clarifies. “I’m really good,” the blue eyed sorcerer blinked at him as if the first answer wasn’t clear enough. “I am glad we cleared that up.”

Satoru’s laugh makes Suguru smile. “We did ‘clear it up’, huh?” Suguru is set free from the hold, but his hand is warm again. Satoru’s fingers are warm.

“Are they going to eat my surprise before we get there?” Satoru complains, throwing his head back dramatically. “I didn’t think that through.”

“I’ll buy you another one if they do.”

“You’d do that for me?”

Suguru stops him. Lights at the edge of the alley now exposed Satoru's features. He was practically glowing in the street. Everything else has been said with actions tonight, yet he was still questioning that?

“Satoru,” he purrs. “That’s a silly question. I -”

“Where the hell have you been?” Shoko stands in front of the couple. Her arms crossed as she glared at them. “You know what, don’t even tell me. It was probably something stupid like a dumb claw machine that caught your eye.” She squints at Satoru. “This is your fault. Don’t complain to me if Utahime, Nanami, and Haibara have finished your cake by the time we get back.”

She turned on her heel, leading the boys to their destination. Satoru’s pale fingers bumped Suguru’s, just enough to wrap two of them together.

Satoru lit up like the arcade while the group surrounded him. Suguru was on his right. Their thighs bumped together underneath the table a few times. He wanted to hold him, to intentionally touch him, to tell him yes, I want to do this with you, but there were too many eyes watching. If he’d waited this long, he could wait a little longer.

Love was pouring out of every person at the table as they serenaded him with a birthday song. His bright blue eyes were locked on the cake, saliva practically spilling out of his mouth as he waited to devour it.

Although Satoru hadn’t yet drank alcohol, at least to Suguru’s knowledge, he was still as ravenous as he would be if he had hit that four drink limit.

Suguru let the dessert sit on a plate in front of him, watching as the others talked and ate. He laughed when he should have, pushing through the fact that it felt like it was forced. His lips were still ripe from the interaction with Satoru. They ached for more from him. Food wasn’t appetizing enough.

To his right, Haibara leaned over into Suguru’s space. “It’s good to see you again,” he smiled. “Been a while, huh?”

Suguru smiled politely, making sure Satoru was out of earshot. He was holding chopsticks in the air, loudly shouting to Shoko and Utahime. A second slice of cake was on his plate, sitting next to a half eaten daifuku. His eyes went back to Haibara. “Yeah. I’m glad to be back here with you guys.”

“We’ve missed you. It’s been a little chaotic without you, but we managed.”

Confusion swarmed the room. Details started to become blurry. A distance was put between Suguru and the rest of the group. “Have you guys been out without me recently?”

The younger sorcerer tilted his head. “No, the last I heard, you were with Fushigoro Toji while we were here waiting for you. You just haven’t come around.”

Suguru opens his swollen eyes. His hair is wet from sweat and stuck to his sore neck that is aching from the poor position he was laying in on the old couch. The movie was now over, stuck in an endless loop of the theme song. It was full of cheer as the animated characters bounced on the screen. Suguru glares at it while collecting the fleeting pieces of the dream.

Is that what time travel is? Wading through the stream until the lily pad of the memory you’re searching for someone finds its way to you. A log appears behind you, the perfect perch. Time travelers fear the prospect of being stuck in a different dimension but here, in this version of going to the past, the only thing you have to consider is the temperature of the recollection. If you’re not careful, your lips will turn blue and you’ll be pulled under the current.

Sighing, he wanders to the front door of the building. His body is pulsing. Every step he puts between him and the couch the alarm gets louder. A constant rhythm begging him to go back, try to enter the other dimension again coming in waves. If he just tries, maybe he could hold on for a little longer, to exist in a different reality, a world where the colors haven’t yet leaked into the river of destruction.

It creaks open, the bitter air once again making his fingers numb. It felt so real, the dream of that day with Satoru. The colors were so vivid and the temperature was perfectly vicious. The cigarette warms the tips of his fingers and his lungs as he breathes the tobacco in. From above, snowflakes start to tumble downwards.

Of course. Happy birthday, Satoru.

Chapter Text

Satoru

December 7th, 2007 

Perhaps if the circumstances were different, Satoru would be excited about his eighteenth birthday. Maybe if it was snowing, it would sound like it would be a little more fun. He could form snowballs to throw at Nanami and Shoko, and then tell them since today is his day, they can’t pelt him back. They’d have to wait until tomorrow. And tomorrow, Satoru will be gone on a mission, so they’d forget by the time the chance occurs.

Or maybe, if Nanami had agreed to go out with Satoru and Shoko tonight, he’d feel a little more in the mood to celebrate. The sorcerer had, Satoru hesitates to think rudely, but he was pretty impolite when he did so, declined the invitation to come out with the two. Recently, Utahime was more distant than usual. He is pretty sure that she had graduated and was probably going to work in Kyoto, but he hasn’t followed up in a while. He doesn’t mind the distance put between him and the older sorcerer, but Shoko has been a little more irritable than normal.

The pencil falls as he finishes making a mental note to talk to her about it tonight. He kind of hates to admit his faults, but he needs to make up for the lack of a friend he has been lately.

Early winters, for sorcerers other than Satoru, were less busy as humans were sauntering through their woes with holiday cheer. Late winter was when it would pick up for them. Satoru was typically the only sorcerer sent on missions while the others spent their time training indoors during the darker months. Although his adventures were few and far between compared to spring, Satoru spent his extra time away from the others. Time alone is what he needs.

Still, Satoru is looking forward to spending time with Shoko, he just thinks for a special day, more than just one person should be here to enjoy it. He will try to make the most of it though.

For the first time in a couple of years, Satoru has his birthday off of school and work. Usually school is what prevails, but for some reason, Yaga-sensei granted him a bit of freedom today. Satoru is going to take full advantage of that.

Staring back at him in the full body mirror is an eighteen year old wearing black pleated dress pants that are held up with a sleek black belt. He’s got a cream colored sweater overtop of a navy blue button down that’s peeking out of the top. The neckline of the blue shirt is folded over, delicately accessorized with a silver chain. The reflection gives an award winning smile and a peace sign. Pleased with himself, he pulls on black boots, grabs a black jacket, and exits into the bright corridor.

Winter comes with a completely different need for his sunglasses. Satoru prefers to wear the blindfold, as its benefits outweigh the glasses’, but Shoko will complain if he wears it out tonight, so he leaves it behind. The sky is overcast today, but every once in a while, the sun reflects off of the fallen snow, making the atmosphere even less bearable for him.

His lungs are grateful for the cool air. It helps him breathe through the unwelcome anxiety he’s been experiencing lately. Satoru avoids the shorter route out of Jujutsu High on days like this. He can’t stomach passing through the area that Fushigoro almost killed him in. Whenever he walked through, his body was on high alert. He could hear the cackling voices of the shadows laughing at him as he walked through. Blood was pulsating in his ears, causing the dizziness to settle in.

This was where the pattern began.

If he couldn’t stop the oil from leaking into his sight, Satoru lost control. It began heavy breathing, the revving of an engine on a vehicle Satoru didn’t want to drive. Smoke would pour out of the exhaust, evaporating in the atmosphere as he breathed it in. The fog caused him to stumble, trying to grasp at anything that would keep him grounded. The only thing that came to him was purple, and it was hollow.

So on his birthday, Satoru avoids the routine. Today, his strides take him on the longer route through the frigid air so he can flee from conflict.

Before enrolling at Jujutsu High, Satoru planned his birthdays out by the minute to ensure that the day would occur exactly how he wanted it. In the mornings, he would roll out of bed to find a sweet breakfast of crepes prepared by his mom. If he had been good, she might have let him melon pan on the side. Following the meal, was he so lucky to have a weekend birthday, his parents would allow him to play Pokemon for a couple of hours, even back then it was his favorite activity.

Afternoons on his birthday were full of celebration with his family. Satoru had multiple cousins at a range of ages but they shared similar interests in video games.

Today, he pulled a page from his younger self’s book. The day has been scheduled for a couple of weeks. He’d been itching for it to get here, not because he was looking forward to becoming an adult, but instead because was eager to spend the day in Tokyo.

The train ride to Nakano is dreadful and disappointing. It’s too loud, too bright, and too crowded. The hair on the back of Satoru’s neck stands straight up. He can’t pin why but also can’t get himself to calm down. Are someone’s eyes on him? It’s not like he’s not used to standing out; he’s an abnormally tall teenager with white hair and blue eyes.

Yeah, someone’s eyes probably are on him.

Satoru clenches his fists and releases a few times. His hands are shaking slightly enough that he wouldn’t have noticed unless he was using them to ground himself. Pain shoots through his lower lip as he bites it again. The skin is completely raw from him chewing on it for the past few days.

The train shifts slightly, but it’s enough to cause Satoru to stumble. He grabs the railing above, but now his head is swimming and he can’t find the way up. His grip is so tight that it causes his skin to turn pale and blue. Panic fuels his racing heart.

This isn’t real.

The phrase is rhythmically repeated in his mind, triplets coming in constant chunks, but they’re too large to chew. Instead, they just stomp around, not waiting for him to digest their presence, no. These words don’t want to obey.

Brakes squeal as the train jolts to a sudden stop. The motion is enough to rip Satoru from the cold waters he was drowning in. Even though he swears he swallowed water trying to come up, his mouth is dry, but his eyes aren’t. They sting, tiny needles stabbing at the corners. From above the voice over the PA announces the destination and luckily, he catches the location at the last second, grateful to have an excuse to get off of the train.

He hopes that being away from the crowd will help.

So far, Satoru had avoided being ensnared by the snapping jaws of grief. But of course, it would be a day like today that it snuck up on him. He couldn’t remember where he was supposed to be going, so he let his feet take him. With his mind in a haze, Satoru prowled the streets of the small city, thankful that people of the area seemed to be hiding away today.

Something was stuck in his coat pocket, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull it out. His mind was stuck in linen clouds. They felt better than the roaring water that had previously held him under, so he accepted his fate and followed where his feet wanted to go.

When his feet stop, his eyes are stitched to the ground with a cerulean thread. Scissors are in his hand, but he doesn’t want to cut the thin strand. It’s the only thing holding him together. If he snips it loose, he’ll fall apart into pieces. 

He could just turn around, he could leave this familiar place. Something is on his to-do list, right? Something waits for him to complete it. Something better than this.

The bitter taste of betrayal in his mouth. He runs his tongue over his teeth and clicks his tongue to communicate his disappointment in himself. He shouldn’t have trusted his body. 

The strand snaps from the pressure he put on it. Just like everything these days, it was black and white. Too much and not enough.

It took him to the stairs where Suguru would wait for him. The place that he and his best friend agreed to meet up at after missions when they were lucky enough to be scheduled in the same area.

The memory presents itself with its belly raised, eyes wide, begging for approval. Even though he doesn’t appease its requests, it doesn’t move.

What if he shows up here?

A voice counters with, why would he do that? But the first thought strikes harder.

If he does, what am I going to do? What if the higher ups find out? How would they find out? It doesn’t matter. If they do, they’re going to make me kill him. Kill Suguru. Kill Suguru. They’re going to make me kill Suguru.

I’m not doing it. I will kill them first

Claws are tearing at his chest, but Satoru ignores them. This has been enough suffering for one day. He rips his gaze from the stairs, abandoning the memory that is asking for him to stay. A piece of his heart is left behind with it. That should be enough to suffice.

For the next few hours, the question lingers in the back of his mind. What if Suguru does find him? It can’t be hard to spot the white-haired sorcerer. Suguru knows all of his favorite spots. Should Satoru avoid all of them? He already has been, he supposes, so it wouldn’t be a drastic change.

After today, he promises himself, he will pull back. The places he loves can wait for him until an impenetrable plan is formed. For now, he will give in. Saving Suguru is more important.

Evening approaches rapidly, its thundering paws speeding towards Satoru like a car racing towards a deer. Shoko is going to be ready to go out soon, but Satoru still hasn’t completed the task he needed to do today. He sighs. Time won’t wait any longer.

The bell hanging above the door rings as he walks into the store. It’s quiet inside, as he hoped it would be. Most people are in their homes by now, unless they worked a little store job like this place.

The associate at the counter was kind when Satoru handed him the device. “Give me an hour please,” he said as he accepted the white-haired adult’s request with a polite bow. Satoru nods and says he will be back by then. With a thank you, the bell rings once again as the door closes behind him.

The sky is dreary today, reflecting Satoru’s mood. Sadness clings to him as if he’s a proper home for it, and Satoru doesn’t have the energy to push it away. It festers in his shadow, molding to the shape of his body. The energy threatens to manifest into something evil and right now, Satoru doesn’t care.

Me: 7:10pm: hey i should be free for activities in about an hour do u still want to go out maybe i could bring food back to the dorm and we could watch a movie

Shoko responded immediately.

Shoko: 7:10pm: Don’t be dumb. I know you’re trying to weasel your way out of this but it’s your birthday. We are celebrating, even if it’s only us.

Me: 7:12pm: are u sure we can’t just watch a movie?

The bright screen stares back at Satoru. He frowns. That’s not going to work well enough. He deletes it and starts over.

Me: 7:15pm: i can bring alcohol back with me

Shoko: 7:15pm: I am all dressed up and am dying for a night out. I’m coming to you.

Me: 7:15pm: so ur not going to let me out of this

Shoko: 7:18pm: Nope

A sigh erupts from Satoru’s throat. He wishes Shoko would understand how tired he is.

Shoko: 7:25pm: I’ll meet you in Shinjuku in about an hour.

The hair rises on the back of his neck.

Why the fuck does she want to go to Shinjuku?

He can’t stop himself from snapping. Shoko of all people should know not to ask to meet him in the last place he saw Suguru. Panic rises to the back of his throat. It’s lodged there, finding a home, even though he tries to shove it down. It needs to find a better place to live.

Me: 7:27pm: what the hell dude i do not want to go back there on my birthday of all days what is wrong with you

Shoko: 7:28pm: Whoa, dude, what? What are you talking about?

Satoru is confused. The button clicks under his thumb as he scrolls back up to reread the texts.

Shoko: 7:15pm: I am all dressed up and am dying for a night out. I’m coming to you.

Me: 7:15pm: so ur not going to let me out of this

Shoko: 7:18pm: Nope.

Shoko: 7:25pm: I’ll meet you in Shibuya in about an hour.

Me: 7:27pm: what the hell dude i dont want to go back there & on my birthday of all days? what is wrong with you

A rock plummets to the bottom of Satoru’s empty stomach. Maybe he should have eaten something today. Or had some water. Maybe he’s just dehydrated. He swears that she had said Shinjuku. Didn’t she say Shinjuku? 

Me: 7:36pm: sorry misread ur message shibuya is fine see you soon

The phone is snapped shut and put back in his pocket before he gets a response. Satoru breathes, but his lungs are sharp and painful on the inhale. What does he have to do for some decent rest?

Ten minutes before the hour is up, Satoru wanders back to the small store for his reward. His fingernails are short and chipped, but he still picks at them on the path back. Gloves would have been helpful for the cold weather, but his limitless power works to ward off the weather, too.

The familiar ringing calms him as he enters the warm shop. The worker isn’t at the counter this time, presumably cleaning up to prepare for the close tonight. Satoru thinks about how nice it would be to close himself in his room instead of sneaking into a club. An internal groan shudders through his body.

“Ah, here you go,” the shop keeper hands the prized possessions to Satoru in a small envelope.

Satoru bows, mumbles a soft ‘thank you’ and escapes back out into the cold weather.

The letter is heavy as a stone in his hands. Should he open it now or wait until later tonight?

The latter answer wins. He tucks it into his pocket before hopping on the train to meet his friend in the other city.

-------------

Shoko

Gloved fingers run through Shoko’s short hair as she flattens it after pulling a scarf over her head. Static convinces a few strands to defy gravity, which causes her to frown. She pulls a glove off, makes them obey, and covers her hand again. The train was crowded and hot, a sharp contrast to the frigid temperatures in the station. A stampede of people departs from the bullet train, fleeing desperately to get into the warmth again.

She pulls her phone out of her purse, checking to see if Satoru gave her an update of where they were supposed to meet.

Satoru: 7:36pm sorry misread ur message shibuya is fine see you soon

His bitter message took up too much space on her screen. The anger radiated off of the text like heat from a fire, but it was one that she didn’t want to warm her hands with.

Me: 8:41pm: Heading to get a coffee at 7/11.

Buttons click as she changes the contact to Utahime. Her heart aches when the blank screen stares back at her.

gf <3: 11:34am: Just arrived in Kyoto. I’m meeting them at noon. Text you afterwards, ok?

Me: 11:35pm: Sounds good. Try to keep your head up babe.

Mei-san recommended Utahime to take on the teacher position at Kyoto afterall. Utahime is not one to decline professional offers, even if she despises the idea of the career. Even if she’s got a partner all the way in Tokyo.

It had a point of contention for the couple, on top of their disagreements over the situation with Shoko’s two peers. Things were slowly getting worse between the girls, but they were holding onto the hope that something would work out for them. Shoko isn’t sure what that something could be, but at this point, more loss isn’t anything she thinks she could handle. Especially losing her partner after all of this.

The device clicks shut as she wanders out of the subway. Against her will, her thoughts attach to the message as if they were sticky rice, thick and unwilling to release from the corners of her mind. Sure, it would have been rude of her to suggest a place like Shinjuku to celebrate his birthday, but for him to be that vicious? To her? Something is so far from normal.

Would it be terrible to force him into confessing after a few drinks tonight? A red fingernail taps her chin as she debates.

Fluorescent lights buzz overhead as she enters the store. It’s hot but her light coat isn’t giving her enough warmth, so she takes her time walking through the building. The atmosphere is quiet aside from the shuffle of people’s coats and the squeaks of wet soles hitting the floor.

While an iced coffee is more preferable, on a day like today, she decides that a hot coffee would serve her better. Shoko still walks past the cooler just in case a prepackaged drink jumps out at her instead. A few foreigners are huddled together with hot coffee in their hands, gawking at the sandwiches in the cooler. One of them is pointing at the tamagosando as if it was gold in a mine they had been digging in for days. The other one is nodding excitedly asking their friend to pick up a few for them to try.

A little disappointed that no cold drinks seem good enough, the healer shuffles to the nearest coffee machine. She turns down an aisle before her feet stop her mid step.

At the end of the aisle, staring at shelves of ramen, is a broad man with dark black hair pulled back into a low pony tail.

Her blood runs cold.

Epinephrine is being released.

She tries to blink, but she can’t.

His back is to her.

Vessels are starting to constrict.

Her feet are bolted to the tiles with long, firm metal nails even though her eyes are bolting around the room, searching for a way out. The shelves are as tall as walls, blocking any view she has of potential escape.

Why of all fucking days would you be out here, Geto? Why? Why? Why?

The man shifts his weight to his other foot, starting to turn to his left. Shoko’s eyes are pinned to him as the action occurs in slow motion. Her mouth is dry and she stutters, but her feet finally move. The steps are slow as her body knows the path to take, although her heart is doing the opposite. It’s racing in her chest as her breath sharpens.

My body is doing its job.

The man turns just enough for her to see his face.

It’s ready to react.

Just in case -

The curtain of hair parts enough for her to catch the color of his eyes.

Brown.

By the time this thought registers, Shoko is back in the freezing streets of Shibuya. Her heart still thuds in her chest like it is a punishment for putting it through that.

It wasn’t Geto Suguru.

The inside of her pockets are warm, but not enough to ground her.

Maybe meeting Satoru here too was a bad idea. She’s got to keep him away from this building in case they run into that man together.

Her back is pressed against the building so no one can surprise her. She’s rocking on her toes ever so slightly to give herself the advantage of sight in case the man pops out of nowhere. Satoru has to show up any minute now and she can’t imagine seeing that man will lead to any positive outcomes.

She curses under her breath. Shibuya was a really bad idea. It’s been so long since there’s been any inkling of Geto being around, so she thought it would be safe, but this made her realize that all it takes is one interaction. One slip up and somehow, the higher ups will find out.

Shoko’s not even sure if they would find out but is it worth the risk? Satoru will eventually have to kill him. It’s the path they’re on the inevitable trajectory towards, isn’t it?

I need to calm down before he gets here. He’s going to see right through me.

It was unfortunate for her, she determines, as she sighs and starts to walk in the direction she assumes Satoru is going to come from. If she stuck around to wait for the guy to come out of the building, her soul would be stressed. With her friend already on high alert, it wouldn’t be long before he noticed that she’s on edge too.

The odds are that man is not heading to the same place Shoko is taking Satoru, but what is he does? She rolls her head back, looking at the empty sky. Tonight could really suck if Satoru’s on edge the entire time.

Her pink phone vibrates sending her heart through the nonexistent roof of the atmosphere. The object practically slips out of her hands as she opens it with eyes that are eager to read a message from her partner. 

Satoru: 8:54pm: where r u

She sighs. Just the dumb birthday boy.

“That’s kind of rude,” a voice comes from behind her.

She turns with the open phone in her hands. Satoru stands behind her with his hands in his pockets. His face is partially covered with a navy blue scarf, white hair puffed out over top of it.

The pink device falls to her side. “Well, maybe you deserve it.”

He feigns pain, falling backwards. “On my birthday? What did I ever do to deserve such treatment?”

“You literally just texted asking where I was and then you show up? Suspicious.”

“You were easy to spot from my height. I guess I just had to look around a bit.”

“Mmm,” she muses. “You going to put up with my plans for tonight or are you just going to complain the whole time?”

“Ah, I would like to pick the latter, but I am choosing the former for your sake. I owe you one.”

"You sure do. We’re going to get coffee first. And don’t worry, they have dessert for you.”

————-

Satoru

The daifuku is sticky like honey on his tongue. Flavors burst on his tastebuds as he takes small bites to savor the sweetness. The way his shoulders instantly relax makes it feel as if the treat is a natural remedy for his anxiety. Maybe he should carry it around more often.

“So anyways, I haven’t seen her in a week.” Shoko is holding an iced coffee in one of her hands, a cigarette in the other. The ice cubes are rattling against the walls of the plastic cup as she stirs the drink. “She’s currently in Kyoto, at the high school there. They’re trying to convince her to stay there against her will.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. That’s kind of how they roll.”

Satoru knows this better than anyone, how the higher ups will completely disregard the wants, let alone the needs of the sorcerers. He’s still surprised by how the others don’t seem to have a grasp on this yet.

The girl sighs, throwing her head into her hand. “I know, I’m just frustrated. Without her, things are going to be so boring. So,” she pauses, avoiding eye contact. Her gaze falls to the cup in between them. “Lonely."

The word comes out so quietly that he could have thought she just stopped completely if he wasn’t reading her lips. It’s a pattern he’s been noticing more and more, how alone all of the teenagers are. Separated at the seam with a perfect cut. The action is almost surgical. The wound is forced to heal on its own but it’s too wide to close without assistance, so it becomes infected. No pain medications are offered at this procedure. The infection leaks through the body until one day, it becomes septic.

That day hasn’t arrived yet, but it promises to, like the earth promises to rotate, and gravity promises to keep them grounded.

“I’m sure you’re thankful that I’m back now aren’t you?” He flashes a confident smile, teeth full of green tea mochi.

“Oh, definitely. You totally replace the gaping hole of my girlfriend.”

The dessert falls from his fingers.

“Your what!” It came out a little louder than he anticipated. Simultaneously hurt and relieved, he gapes at her.

Of course he knew, or he assumed, that they were together, but it was never confirmed. He could tell through their souls how attached they were, but it feels invasive, bringing it up after using his powers unintentionally to unlock their secrets. So his response was intended to be more of a ‘you’re finally admitting it!’ but Shoko took it as ‘you never told me!’

He supposes the latter would be a more typical response from Gojo Satoru than the first option, but he truly meant for it to come out that way.

She snorts, accompanying it with an expression that reads ‘seriously?’ “Come on Satoru. Are you that consumed in your own world?”

"No! I’m just surprised that you’re finally admitting it is all. You two have been invested in each since like what, the first couple of weeks? I’m not blind.”

“You certainly act like you are,” she crosses her arms. “You never -”.

Maybe if it had been under different circumstances, Satoru wouldn’t have pushed. If today wasn’t already bursting at the seams with moments of Suguru, he would have let it slip by. Had the coffee shop been busier, maybe he wouldn’t have made such a scene. He could have let the comment slip, but standing behind Shoko at the counter ordering coffee stood two lovers that were intertwined. On a day like today, a gloomy, sorrowful day, Satoru couldn’t bite his tongue.

“You’re right. I never expressed my feelings for Suguru.

His favorite food stays on the plate in the shape of one last bite. The atmosphere changes into an uncomfortable silence. Sweat drips from the coffee cups between them. A pool of liquid gathers on the table and Satoru wishes he could dive into it to escape the reality he’s currently in.

“I was too much of a coward to do it and now it’s gone. Everything is gone.” Through the sunglasses his cerulean eyes stare at the table. He refuses to look at his friend across the table. “I hope that you guys don’t have to go through this.”

“I know, Satoru.” After minutes of silence, Shoko mumbles a response. Satoru hates the way her voice is thick and delicate, like the trunk of a cherry blossom tree in the early stages of its life. Gojo Satoru is stronger than this. He isn’t delicate. He’s not going to break.

“It’s not like sorcerers getting into a relationship is smart anyways. We will never get a choice in the path we take. You’ve seen the way we die. Though I can’t imagine Suguru dying, unless it’s by my hands.

“We probably could have made it had I not been so afraid. I think losing him like this is harder than wading through the discomfort that would have presented itself had he said he didn’t want to date. Stupid, isn’t it? I wish I had known then that grief and loss aren’t the same thing.”

He laughs, thick like her tone, but it’s different in the way that his is solid and strong. “You guys are going to make your way through it though. Utahime is uptight but that means she won’t let a curse get in her way. Are lesbian relationships less complicated? It seems like it’s probably less complicated.”

The lack of hesitation provides a comfort for Satoru. Shoko’s reliability is the reason that he can unravel in front of her. He’s not the type to crave hollow comfort like most humans. It’s an empty can of approval that defies vision, coaxing you into thinking it’s full of something worthwhile. Once the insides are necessary to your survival, it unveils the truth and there is nothing more than false promises.

“I’ve never been in a gay relationship or one with a man at that, but women are superior.” The sparkles in her eyes clue Satoru in that Utahime is on her mind.

A ping of jealousy takes a bite out of the cave of his chest. He reluctantly moves past it, forcing a smile on his face. “How long have you been hiding it from me?”

“Utahime’s very traditional, so she’s been nervous about the way society will view us. It wasn’t pointed at you, even though she probably would disagree just to spite you,” she chuckles. “It’s been ‘official’,” the word is wrapped in air quotes, “for, I don’t know, over a year? It’s hard to say. She didn’t want to acknowledge it for a while even though it was painfully obvious. I’m a catch.”

“As your best friend, I’d have to agree.”

“Tch, that actually does mean a lot coming from you. Thanks.”

-----------

“It’s too loud in here!” Satoru shouts with his hands around his mouth. His friend is dancing too much to hear his complaints, but he still attempts.

In his hand sits a cocktail that he didn’t really want to drink, but he gave in after Shoko glared at him. “You need to loosen up! Just relax and try to have a good time!”

Satoru was trying to have a good time. He was trying to loosen up. After their conversation earlier, he has been digging for a semblance of relaxation but the anxiety is alive underneath his palms that have been flexing into fists. The sentences echoed in the hallways of his brain as if they were the alarms that released him from class in middle school. These noises were inescapable no matter how far he ran from them.

He sits on steps with the thoughts as if they’re old friends, trying to come up with what he could have said instead.

Shoko, you don’t understand. I thought we had forever together. I saw the way he looked at me, I looked at his soul. If I was disoriented, I would recognize his soul faster than I would recall how to breathe. I know him better than - I thought I knew him better than he knew himself. 

The lights are too bright. The sounds are too much, everything is too much. It hits him like a speeding car. Why is it that he’s so untouchable but it keeps coming back to this? 

The dancefloor turns into quicksand. There’s no cursed energy here, why is the floor consuming him? Satoru turns his head as he falls, watching the souls that are surrounding him dance, oblivious to the fact that the white-haired adult is slipping into the ether. He reaches for Shoko but his hands slip through her leg as if she’s nothing more than a hologram. He tries to call for help, for something, anything, but no one can hear over the thumping beat

“Hey, what the hell?”

He’s face to face with a stranger who appears to be drenched in a mixed drink. Satoru’s hand is empty where the glass should have been. He blinks as his brain tries to make sense of the situation.

The floor is stable underneath him. He checks by shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Then he looks down at his feet. No quicksand in sight.

“Sorry dude,” he mumbles and turns around. Shoko’s not near him. The hair on the back of his neck stands.

A hand is on his shoulder. “Where the fuck are you going? This is a nice outfit,” the tone is vicious. The man behind him is clearly looking for a fight.

Unluckily for him, Satoru is too.

One shove is all it takes for the man to crumble to the sticky dancefloor. Satoru almost laughs at the weakness of the human behind him. This guy really thought he was going to stand up to Gojo Satoru? He thinks about giving him another hit, but quickly decides against it. A bar fight is not the way he wants to end tonight.

The street lights are just as bright as the disco lights are, but it’s less claustrophobic outside, so he figures it’s a better place to be. Shoko will probably need a smoke soon, so if he’s going to find her somewhere, this isn’t a bad idea.

Around the corner of the club sits an alley, which is where he decides to take his rest. He leans against the snow covered wall in the shadows. A laugh comes out of his throat. That guy was an idiot.

“Satoru?

He lifts his head enough for his white hair to be caught in the light coming from above. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing out here? I told you I was going to get a drink. I thought you said you were going to wait.”

Relief rushes over him. She didn’t hear about the near fight he got into. “I just decided that I needed some air.”

Silence fills the space between the two while the cigarette touches her lips and is pulled away. The smoker pulls out her phone while she waits for a response.

“Anything from Utahime yet?” Satoru is desperate to change the subject. He really wants to go home, but it’s only 10 in the evening, and he knows Shoko won’t accept his surrender yet.

“Nope,” she pops the ‘p’. Her eyes roll as she slides the object back into her bag. “It’s whatever. She’s probably asleep by now.”

It’s Satoru’s turn to hum at the reply. Most everything comes naturally to him, but relationship advice is one of the few that evades him.

“Send her a selfie of us having such a wild time,” he grins.

The phone makes a loud snap as she clicks the photo. “She’s going to hate that,” her laugh reverberates. It makes Satoru’s chest happy, hearing her soulful giggle

Maybe staying out a little longer won’t be the worst decision he could make. A little hope flutters in his chest with the wings of a small hummingbird. Fragile, but quick, and enough to make waves.

“I’m tired of that place. Let’s find another club. Preferably one that has something sweet to eat.” His second wind takes Shoko by surprise. Her eyes light up.

“I know just the place.”

--------

It’s midnight when it happens again.

Whether Shoko didn’t hear Satoru’s request for sweets or if she didn’t care, he isn’t sure, but the place she had in mind, isn’t what he was hoping for.

The atmosphere is just as loud as the other one, but the rooms are bigger, so it feels less crowded. The ceilings are higher, just enough for the disco lights to highlight them instead of bouncing off. Bodies heat the dance floor up, forcing the two sorcerers to remove their coats as soon as they step inside.

In one hand he’s carrying a glass of water that Shoko shoved in it and in the other a cocktail that’s filled to the brim sloshes onto the floor. The water is ice cold, so much so that he shivers after finishing the glass.

Shoko announces to the bartender that it was his birthday before remembering that his fake ID probably doesn’t say his real birthday, but luckily the man doesn’t request to see his ID. He just smiles before handing him a free shot. With a quick up and down glance at the tall man, he smirks, letting their hands touch for a little too long. “Happy birthday! On me,” a wink comes along with it.

Satoru tries. He really does. The alcohol just wasn’t enough yet. “Thanks.

His friend requests a second cup of water before they depart from the counter. It’s in his hand within seconds. The bartender takes the opportunity to chat with Satoru for a few minutes and the sorcerer can’t find a way out.

A few minutes pass, the conversation is over, and Shoko nudges him with a knowing smile. “Happy birthday,” she mocks as they walk towards the dancefloor.

Satoru laughs, although there’s no soul behind it. “Not really my type, but he was nice.” 

“You’re definitely his type.”

“I’m everyone’s type.” He debates before adding, “Too bad he’s not the one I wanted to hear from.”

“You’re just going to have to suck it up tonight.” Shoko’s hand is in his free hand, dragging him to the dancefloor. “Just drink it quickly, you’ll feel better!”

The advice doesn't land on deaf ears. He obeys, chugging the mixed drink as if he was in a drought and it was the first water he’d seen in days. It’s cold, but shockingly sweet. The sugar pumps through his veins and within minutes, he’s incredibly intoxicated. He can feel it vibrating through his veins and in his favor, the anxiety is balanced out. Not completely gone, it refuses to bleed out entirely, but it’s better than what it was. A compromise.

A wide, carefree smile splits his face in two for the first time in months. Seeing his reaction, his dance partner returns it. The pair grooves with the beat for a few songs, laughing at each other’s goofy dance moves.

The DJ interrupts their vibes with a slower song, and Shoko takes the opportunity to head out for a smoke. She invites Satoru with her, trying hard this time, but he refuses. “I’m going to get another drink.”

She squints her eyes and reluctantly agrees. “If I find you outside again, we are going to have a chat.”

Drunken laughter erupts from him. “Yeah, I feel so threatened.”

A glare comes his way before she departs.

The bartender has a big smile on his face when Satoru returns. “Back for another?” He leans over the counter getting as close to the new adult as the ledge will let him.

“I am, yeah. Hoping I’d get you again.” The alcohol makes his needs come out so smoothly that they catch Satoru by surprise.

“Is that so? What can I do for you?

The question was more of an invite for a service than a drink. Satoru mulls on the invitation for a few minutes. His stomach churns. How much harm is there in accepting?

“When are you going to be off?” Satoru’s heart is pounding. 

“At midnight, sweetheart, so only about thirty minutes. You want to wait for me?”

The crossroads stares at Satoru’s feet as it waits for him to make a choice. He swallows. The taste of the vodka is still present.

“Yeah. I’ll meet you outside.”

A few minutes before midnight, Satoru finds himself outside of the club with Shoko. His hands are shaking ever so slightly, but he thinks it’s just from the nerves of agreeing to meet with that guy.

"Are you going home with him? I’ll hail my own cab if you are.”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know what possessed me to agree.” He groans. “I don’t know if I still want to.”

This time, the cold air isn’t enough to keep him steady. The alcohol makes him dizzy and the world starts to spin. A hand pauses on the wall next to him. The mere presence of it calms him.

“What about Geto?

He tilts his head. “What did you just say?

“Did you even get his name?

Her image, unsure of its presence on this plane of existence, stutters in front of him. “Uh, no, I don’t think I did.”

She sighs. “It’s almost midnight. You’re going to have to make a decision soon. He’s going to be searching for you.”

The floor underneath him begins to sway. He wonders if he drank too much. Maybe he should send Shoko inside for more water.

Searching for me. I’m supposed to search for Suguru, aren’t I? I am supposed to know where he is. I have to find him.

Bile stings the back of his throat. He can’t open his eyes but he can see Shoko standing in front of him.

What about Suguru?

“Are you going to go kill him or are you just going to let the higher ups do something else?”

Satoru is suddenly swimming, or rather panickedly treading water in a liminal space that’s echoing with the jumbles of the questions. He slaps the currents away, trying to find which way is up. This is different than the quicksand, it’s thicker and more urgent.

This isn’t celestine blue water. These waves are made of obsidian hues so delicate that they have hazy violet undertones.

Shoko is staring at him. Her arms are crossed, left hand is holding a cigarette. Her right hip is pushed out as her mouth moves. “I’m just saying. How long has it been? How much longer are you going to mope?”

When are you going to do it? You know he’d rather die by your hands. You’re the strongest, Satoru. You have to do it.

The walls are slowly closing in, so slightly that Satoru wouldn’t have seen it if not for his hyper-awareness. He’s on edge. His teeth brush his smooth lips and they’re sharp enough to draw blood. His eyes are burning, but he can’t provide relief. They won’t listen to his demands to let go of their convictions. They’re forcing him to keep them open, to stare at the stilling world around him.

“Why the fuck are you after me now, too?”

The only moving factors are the smoke from Shoko’s cigarette and the changing colors of the street lights behind her. The ground has his feet in shackles, but his hands are mobile.

“I already told you, Shoko, I am not going after Suguru.. I exist for nothing but the higher ups to use as a weapon but I also exist for Suguru. I don’t care that he’s murdered people!” His body finally obeys, throwing his hands in the air as he shouts the words. “I don’t fucking care what the higher ups want! I am terrified of finding him because of them. I want him, Shoko and I think I will do anything for him.”

Nausea is a brick that he’s being bludgeoned with. The strikes are merciless and continuous. Satoru isn’t sure if the side effects are from the alcohol or an aftermath from his confession.

“I am so tired. Freedom is so close, I could snatch it. If only I had the courage,” hot tears pool in his eyes. “If I am ever so lucky that I get to see him again, I’m never going to return to jujutsu society.”

Electricity crackles underneath his fingertips as the sorcerer reaches for something to defend his convictions with.

The sickness speeds up, over and over and over again.

Shoko’s stare is lighting him on fire. The flames are licking his clothes.

He can’t take it anymore.

The power he’s desperate for becomes tangible. There’s one thing he can cling to and it’s purple.

“Hey, hey, Satoru, chill out! Holy shit!” Shoko’s hands are raised in a position of surrender. She’s backing up slowly, not watching behind her. Instead, her eyes are wider than he’s ever seen before. She’s as pale as the winter snow. “What the fuck are you doing?”

The questions come and go like small petals falling from light blue hydrangeas. They too are being sucked into the black hole that Satoru feels like he’s being devoured by. He can see his pale hands and he can see his friend’s horrified expression, but they’re both light years away. Her voice too, is distant, but he can hear the tone through a thick glass wall that’s between them.

His teeth are dripping with foamy saliva as if he were a rabid dog. His fingernails are slicing through his soft palms, but he can’t release the grip.

Inside his chest, his lungs are stuck to each other. With each breath he takes they crack apart inch by inch. Satoru pulls on the threads of reverse cursed technique, trying to solve at least one of the problems, but the powers evade him. He curses himself as the pain and panic spread through his body like a current of electricity.

What would Suguru say

Satoru’s fingers are pressed together, ready to summon his favorite weapon.

“Satoru, get a fucking grip dude! Holy fuck, what is going on?”

The command is on his lips, but they die just in time.

Shoko crashes into him as if he was a curse, using an old jujutsu technique that he probably taught her. He slides down the street, landing underneath a streetlamp. Shoko comes at him like a bullet, yanking him into the nearest alley.

The world is spinning once again, but Satoru’s back in the right plane of existence. The colors are no longer bleeding blacks or purples.

The girl is complaining about the dirty snow getting on her clothes as she leans down towards him. Her fingers are cold and red. “Satoru?”

Wide eyes blink at her once. Twice.

Pressure is on his chest. On his legs. He can’t see anything.

The hammering in his chest doesn’t slow down, but his lungs start to tap the brakes.

“Christ, Satoru, what the fuck? I don’t know what is going on with you. You caused a fucking scene. We don’t have Tengen-sama here to cover this up. You didn’t pull a veil down. I,” the healer suddenly stops.

Satoru’s head leans back against the brick wall with a thud. His head is pounding in a way that his technique won’t reverse. “Shoko.”

“Shut up. Stay here. I will figure out a way to kill you if you move after that stunt.” The threat isn’t empty. 

He supposes he’s lucky that his body is too exhausted to move. His limbs feel like heavy bags of sand. 

Footsteps approach from the left. His heart starts to pick up speed again. She didn’t remove whatever is covering his eyes before departing. Satoru begs his arms to raise, but the commands fall short. He reaches for limitless, but it’s gone too.

Someone kicks his foot. He unwillingly blinks underneath the fabric covering his face.

Oh, so I can do that, huh?

“Hey,” a familiar voice sings. “I thought you were going to wait for me.” It’s not a friendly tone.

If the sorcerer could, he would snap back, but the expressions are glued to his lips like the mochi was earlier, but these don’t taste the same. His throat is an IV bag clamped shut from dehydration. All he can manage is a cough.

“What, you’re ignoring me now?”

Satoru knows what’s coming before it connects with him. It’s a low blow, but he can’t do anything to stop it.

Weak, weak, weak.

A foot collides with his shin. Sparks of pain fly through his bones, bringing the nausea back with it. His body is akin to a sack of rice falling over and spilling onto the cold, firm ground.

He hears the attacker reel a leg up again, before another voice screams at him. “What the fuck are you doing here?!”

Grunts occur as a fight ensues. Satoru grits his teeth. His fingertips become numb from the cold. Excitement surges through his veins as he realizes he can move. Scraped palms push him up off of the cold floor. He’s not going down again.

Gravity tugs the cloth over his eyes downwards to the slick concrete. The guys’ coat is in his fist within seconds. He pulls the attacker in as close as he dares before slamming a first into his face. While Satoru would much prefer using some sort of cursed technique, rage is rage and this is a better purpose for it. Satoru heard a bone crack. He smiles to himself. That was awfully satisfying.

Shoko’s hand is on his coat, attempting to pull him off of the mangled body. “Satoru, let this has been enough.” Her voice is firm. “Let’s go home.

No, Satoru, keep going.

The thoughts present themselves in Suguru’s honeyed voice. The harmony shudders Satoru’s bones. It’s a comfort, an enlightenment, something tangible that cannot be replaced. The feeling swarms his skin in goosebumps. He cannot allow the sound to leave, so he obeys.

“Gojo!”

The name was separated into two syllables, which made the taste in his mouth worse. His face snaps towards the noise to find Shoko staring at him. A fist in the jacket of the limp body that’s dangling over the concrete in front of him, the opposite hand is reeled back, ready to serve another hit. Blood is dripping from his fingers, slowly and softly tapping the concrete in singular drips. He snarls, “What?"

 “Knock it the fuck off. We are leaving.”

The drops the body, letting it thud to the concrete. Chest heaving and eyes burning from something other than his six eyes, he looks at Shoko. Her stance is almost motherly, like a lioness correcting her cub. The voice she used wavered so slightly that if not for his technique, he wouldn’t have noticed the way her uncertain soul stuttered. Satoru runs his tongue over his bare teeth, licking the venom off of them. His lips want to bite, but the body in the alley says enough damage has been done.

This is what Suguru would have done, right? What he would have wanted? He would have wanted Satoru to defend himself against a weak human who picked a fight with the strongest sorcerer in jujutsu society. Suguru would have proudly watched as Satoru unleashed his rage, wouldn’t he?

The thoughts come and go, adjacent to two cherry blossoms blooming in the night, one after another, but by the time the light graces them in the morning, they’ve rotted and fallen apart. The sorcerer’s heart throbs. Though it was merely a phrase stitched together from memories of his voice, Satoru wishes he could have heard his lost lover’s voice as solid as it was in his mind a few minutes ago just one more time.

The walk back to the street is silent. After Satoru is able to focus his cursed energy on his shin, he lets his mind focus on picking up the broken pieces of Suguru’s voice. The glass opens scars on his now healed fingers as he accidentally rubs them too close to his skin. This time, RCT doesn’t matter. Let the stinging reside. Nothing matters

Shoko doesn’t say a single thing the entire way back home.

Satoru wonders if Utahime ever texted back about their photo.

Chapter Text

Shoko

December 31st, 2007

Shoko is swaddled in a giant coat, the biggest scarf she could find, and ridiculously large gloves. Tokyo is a lot colder than Kyoto, but either way, Shoko is always cold. It’s one of the few reasons she envies her best friend. Limitless would come in handy in moments like these.

Utahime has finally settled into Jujutsu Tech in Kyoto, so Shoko is stopping by to visit her. The couple has planned to spend New Year’s together for a few months and it’s the first time that they have been together in two months. The two wanted to spend December 25th together, but Utahime was assigned a mission at the last minute and Shoko spent her time studying. Graduation is only three months away. Although she was sad they didn’t get to spend the most romantic day of the year together, she understood. That’s what being an adult is about.

Time has been slowly slithering by, although now that it’s almost January, the healer is confused as to where the time disappeared to. She’s grateful though, because she knows that once she sees her girlfriend, things will click back into place.

A couple holds hands in front of her, showing their affection without being too much for Japan’s culture. Across from them sits a couple of young girls with their young mother. Her hair is slightly peach, but they are blonde and brunette. The two appear to be twins. The woman is sitting quietly while the two children are leaning on her, trying to swat away sleep. Shoko smiles to herself. It’s a cute sight.

The train slows to a gentle stop, announcing that Kyoto is the current destination. Shoko shuffles through the car, passing the small family. Her head tilts as she nears the three. An obvious lack of cursed energy overwhelms her. Her eyes drop to them for a split second, but she quickly returns her gaze to the door. The mother’s sight was on her, too.

A hand pulls her coat a little tighter, preparing herself for exposure to the bitter air once more. Shoko focuses on the path in front of her before letting her mind go back to the anomaly on the train. The station is packed with people, as she should have expected for the holiday. During this time of year, quite a few people will have low negative energy due to the high anticipation of the holidays. Still, she can’t quite shake the discomfort that she experienced passing the three.

Shoko slowly walks through the terminal, glancing behind her with every few steps. That was such an odd situation.

The train stop is busy enough to lose them if they were following her, but an unsettling feeling won’t leave her be. Shoko tugs her phone out to alert Utahime that she’s arrived in the city to get her mind off of things.

Me: 7:31pm: Hey (: Just arrived in Kyoto. About to catch a cab to you.

loml <3: 7:34pm: Hey, can’t wait to see you <3

loml <3: 7:35pm: I can come into the city to get you if you want

loml <3: 7:35pm: I’ve got news

Shoko’s lips twitch. What could the news be about?

Me: 7:36pm: Sure, okay, I can wait. It’s pretty busy. How soon do you think you can be here?

loml <3: 7:36pm: I’ll be there in 15 

Me: 7:36pm: So soon. Missed me? (:

loml <3: 7:36pm: So much

The confirmation makes Shoko smile. The wool of her scarf rubs her teeth so she pulls it down, shoving underneath her chin. Her warm face is shocked by the cold air, so she hurries through the streets to a nearby landmark they can meet at.

Families rush past Shoko, hauling children who are holding street food and parents who have amazake in their hands. The streets are packed with all types of people waiting for the New Year to come. Shoko decides to walk towards the Yasaka Shrine because even though it’s bound to be packed, it’s a good spot for them to meet at.

Shoko debates following the tradition of making an offering for omikuji while she waits. It’s not a custom that she typically partakes in, but she doesn’t usually find herself in Kyoto on New Years. Maybe she will once Utahime arrives.

It’s not too much longer when her girlfriend finally appears. Against their typical reunions, they embrace each other in the shadows. After all, it's been so long since they’ve been together. What’s the harm?

“It’s so wonderful to see you,” Shoko brushes the dark bangs out of her partner’s brown eyes. She’s got a scarf covering all of her face. “I have missed you.”

Shoko can see the smile in Utahime’s eyes, even though her mouth is hidden. She mumbles what Shoko thinks is a “you, too.”

“Are you that cold? I’d love to see your beautiful face,” she laughs.

When Utahime tugs the scarf down, Shoko has to hold back a gasp. One of her hands gently caresses her girlfriend’s face. “What happened?”

Shoko tiptoes around the question as if Utahime is going to shatter under too much pressure. She swallows thickly, but her throat is still dry. The healer knows that Utahime is aware that she could easily have fixed this, but obviously she didn’t want any intervention from her partner.

“I was sent on a special grade mission last week and left with this. I’m fine, though. It’s mostly healed. I didn’t want to make you worry.” Utahime’s gloved hand rests on Shoko’s, gently removing it from her face. “I’m okay.”

A scar that stretches from the right side of her face, over her nose, and stops underneath her left eye, is now present. It’s almost fully healed. Shoko silently wishes she could have at least been in Kyoto to offer help when her girlfriend returned from the mission.

Shoko returns a stiff smile. “You look like a beautiful badass. I’m so proud to call you my girlfriend.”

A light blush touches her partner’s cheeks. Their hands are still in each others’. “Thank you,” she laughs. “I knew you wouldn’t panic, but I wanted to heal it myself. It wasn’t bad enough where I needed any help.”

“Of course. You’re strong.”

Utahime smiles back. “I’m glad that you’re here. I’ve really missed seeing you.”

The couple wanders through the festival, catching up on their recent activities. Utahime says she’s been in contact with Tsukumo Yuki, as she’s taking on a young sorcerer that is going to be attending Jujutsu Tech in Kyoto when he’s of age. She expresses slight anxiety about the position, but Mei has helped prepare her to teach the next generation of sorcerers, so she’s sure she can do it.

“Do you think Gojo is going to accept the position in Tokyo?” Utahime is chewing gyoza, expressing satisfaction with the taste between her words. “I really don’t love the idea of working that closely with him. It’s been so nice being hours away from that man.”

Shoko picked up takoyaki at the stand, which she is quickly consuming as if she hasn’t eaten in a few days. “Pfft, yeah, who else is going to do it? It won’t be without complaint, but he’s got to take the responsibility on. Nanami would be a great fit, but he’s not finished studying yet. Yaga-sensei is finishing this year.”

She chews a bite before adding, “Nanami is most definitely not going to listen to Gojo. Could you imagine that?”

The girls laugh together in perfect harmony.

“Absolutely not. He would have a fit if Gojo tried to tell him what to do! I think he’d literally do the exact opposite, even if he knew Gojo was right.”

Shoko’s snorts fill the air. “It would be so funny. You’d have to come back to see it.”

“I wouldn’t miss that.”

“Do you know any of the other students you’ll be teaching?”

Utahime hums. “I think the higher ups might be going after a few children from the Zenin clan, but I haven’t heard anything else. They’re preparing for it to be a couple more years until I actually start teaching. I’m just taking care of the missions here now until then.”

“That’s kind of dumb. I wish you were back in Tokyo.”

“I don’t mind it. Tokyo was a bit busy. Plus like I said, Gojo isn’t here.”

Shoko raises an eyebrow. “What about me?”

She laughs as redness rises on her girlfriend’s face. “Of course I miss you! I wish you could be here. That would be the best outcome.”

Shoko’s free hand brushes against Utahime’s. “I know, I was just teasing you.”

The women finish their snacks and circle back to the shrine they met at. “Do you want to make offerings for omikuji?”

“Sounds like fun!” Utahime rewards Shoko’s presence with a bright smile. Shoko’s heart trips in her chest. Is it always going to do that when she’s around?

The line the duo reaches is long, but it moves quickly. Most people pass with smiles, but occasionally, a few stragglers immediately wander to the nearby fence and tie their misfortune, abandoning it with a sour face.

"Oh, hey, I have news, too."

Utahime leans into her girlfriend. "What's that?"

"I," she pauses for dramatic effect. "Stopped smoking. For New Year's. This is my last one."

"You're kidding!" The dark haired woman throws her arms around Shoko's neck. "I'm so proud of you."

Shoko laughs as returns the affection. "It's true. I'm turning over a new leaf."

"This is so great."

The two release each other, but after the cigarette is finished, Utahime stands closer to her than she did before. Shoko leans her head on her shoulder. "Have you done this before?”

“Yeah, my family usually partakes in these traditions. I have yet to get a bad fortune,” the sorcerer beams.

Shoko laughs. “Well, you’ve gotten a lot of good luck. I mean, look at me,” she winks.

“You’re absolutely right,” Utahime sneaks a hand into Shoko’s free hand while they wait for their turn to make an offering.

Utahime draws her fortune first, but waits so the two can open their fortunes at the same time. Shoko follows suit. As soon as she opens the drawer to fetch her number, she feels a negative energy looming.

Utahime’s reads ‘chu-kichi’, which like usual, means she got middle luck. Shoko pulled the worst luck.

“Don’t be discouraged. It’s just for fun.” Utahime squeezes Shoko’s hand.

She smiles back at her partner as she ties the paper with everyone else’s negative draw. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s no big deal.”

The older sorcerer pulls her in for a side hug. “You ready to head back? I know it’s not midnight yet, but it’s a bit of a haul. We can grab sake and put on a movie or something.”

The offer makes Shoko relax immediately. “That actually sounds perfect.”

At midnight, the couple is in Utahime’s new room at the school in Kyoto. They share a New Year’s kiss, clink their glasses of sake, and prepare to fall asleep in each other’s arms. Before she closes her eyes, Shoko thinks about how grateful she is to have this work out.

Satoru is wrong, as per usual. Sorcerers can do this. We are going to make this work out.

----------

Suguru

March 13th, 2008

The curse doesn’t stand a chance against Suguru. While it’s not as weak as a mere human, it’s still just a grade three. He laughs and shakes his head as he goes in for another attack. This curse isn’t too smart, but it’s strong enough to make the curse user have to rely on his jujutsu techniques in order to exorcise it.

Oh, how long it’s been since I’ve had this much fun.

Over the past few months, Suguru has met a couple of new friends that share his convictions. The relief he feels to be starting a semblance of a community is astounding. It’s created a new motivation for him.

The curse attacks at what it thinks is his blind spot. Suguru laughs at it, mocking the dumb thing as it tries to strike. He throws out the weakest curse in his inventory to spite it.

His opponent reels back, panic in what he can barely view as its eyes. The sight is delicious and provides the curse user with a surge of electric pride.

It would be an easy victory for Suguru, but he wants to relish this moment. Missions for him have no longer been specifically for survival; this is for pure joy. Since he has someone to babysit the girls, Suguru is indulging in this affair.

Once the torture is finished, a grin splits his face in two. He picks up the exorcised orb, pocketing it for later. He’s learned that while cigarettes are helpful, they are a luxury. Mouthwash is a decent alternative for following up curses with.

The curse was discovered by Manami, one of Suguru’s new family members. She’s been keeping track of the locations of curses and keeping tabs on jujutsu society. For the longest time, Suguru hesitated to say that he was happy, but now that his life is finally clicking together, it seems like things are going to continue to look up. Suguru hopes that she knows how grateful he is for her help.

The dark haired man knows that Satoru and Shoko are graduating from Jujutsu Tech this week. He didn’t need to be alerted by Manami. Things like that your mind may want to forget, but your body definitely won’t let you.

The mutual agreement that humans are nothing more than monkeys who are weak and useless is what brought the three of them together. So far because of their relationship, Suguru’s quality of life has reached a height that he never hit at Jujutsu Tech. At least in the final year.

The new family hasn’t been together long enough for Suguru to have disclosed all of the information about his past to them. When the time is right, he will finish disclosing his past to them, as he still doesn’t believe in lying to family, but for the foreseeable future, he’s going to keep the fact that his ex best friend was Gojo Satoru. It’s not pertinent information to their lives at the moment. What they don’t know yet won’t hurt them.

Since he’s in the neighborhood, takes the opportunity to stop in Shinjuku and grab food from his favorite restaurant. He’s confident that no one from jujutsu society will be there today. It’s the first time that he’s been in the city since that fateful day. He’s determined to patch the horrific memories into positive ones, even if he has to borrow fabric from the past to do so.

While he’s walking into town, his phone starts to buzz. He tugs the device out of the pocket of his black harem pants and with a click, he hears her voice.

“Hey, Suguru. How’d eliminating that curse go?”

“Hey,” he stops to glance at a pair of sandals in the window. “It was enjoyable. Thanks for setting me on it.”

“My pleasure,” her voice is smooth. “Toshihisa is working with the girls right now. He said they’re doing pretty well considering how young they are.”

“I’m surprised they’re listening to him,” he chuckles on the other end of the line. “Those two are quite a handful.”

“They sure are. I’m shocked you were able to take care of yourself and both of them for so long without any help.”

The acknowledgement of his work fills the empty cave in Suguru’s chest. He’s proud of the fact that he was able to scrape by for so long, but he wishes that he could have provided more for them within those first few months. He’s not sure if paternal instincts are genetic, but he’s like his parents in the way that he’d do anything to keep the girls safe. Suguru is a better parent though, because he’s not just a monkey.

“We managed okay, but I am really grateful to have you guys now.”

He can hear her smile through the tone of her voice. “I’m glad we are together now, too. Are you coming back soon? No rush, I just got word of sorcerers wandering through Shinjuku, so I thought I’d reach out.”

The alert stops the curse user in his tracks, akin to a deer in headlights. His senses are suddenly on high awareness. Did he get the day wrong? His phone calendar alerted him that in a different universe, he was supposed to be graduating from Jujutsu Tech today. The onyx haired man never deleted the reminder.

“From Jujutsu Tech you mean? I thought they were graduating today.”

“I am pretty sure they are. The word I got was about a different sorcerer, someone who graduated already. It’s not one hundred percent reliable, so don’t panic,” she pauses for a minute. “Listen, I should have told you this earlier, but I didn’t want to make you worry.”

Suguru’s heart stalls for a minute. The car is speeding up and he can’t move. He’s silent while she sits on the other line.

“Back in December the girls and I ran into someone from Jujutsu High. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to stress you out, she was –”

The words fade in and out. The curse user attempts to calm his nerves while she speaks in his ear. “I know that she saw us, but it was months ago, so I think she would have done something if she was going to. I should have disclosed this to you.”

“Thank you, Manami. It’s been long enough that if it was going to be a concern, I think it would have been by now. I appreciate the honesty.”

“I apologize for not sharing this with you sooner.”

“It’s okay. I appreciate your help. I’ll be back soon.”

The curse user is already on the train that’s heading into the city, so he decides to go through with his original plan. If he does run into a sorcerer, he’ll figure out how to proceed. He can’t stay away from them forever.

Suguru isn’t even sure why he’s trying to avoid them anymore. Sure, he’s got reasons to avoid his previous friends, but he’s stronger than almost all of them. If worse came to worst, he could fight his way through it.

Although humans are on the train, the curse went down within a decent time, so he is able to avoid the rush of foot traffic. If there’s one thing that Suguru despises the most, it’s being surrounded by monkeys.

He, Manami, and Toshihisa have yet to solidify their future plans. They have agreed to train Mimiko and Nanako, but aside from that, they aren’t sure how to achieve their goals of eliminating all of humanity. For now, Suguru is continuing to exorcise the curses that Manami finds and Tashihisa is focusing most of his time on working with the girls. On their days off, Manami takes the twins out for girls trips, which the two are always ecstatic about.

The train stops briefly when Suguru notices the long blonde hair. He curses internally. Of course she’s boarding the subway that he’s on. His first time in the city in months and this is his luck? Luckily, the person Manami was warning him about is the person he is least worried about.

It isn’t long before he catches Yuki’s eye.

 The sorcerer helps herself to the empty seat next to him. “Hey, been a while.”

Suguru doesn’t know what to say. She’s probably not going to leak information to the higher ups, but she’s also not his ally.

“Hey.”

The train rocks and clicks as the two sit together in silence. The bright lights make Suguru feel like he’s on an operating table, completely exposed and vulnerable.

“So, how are things? Heard that you went a bit rogue after our last chat.” The tone she uses is casual, as if they are just two friends meeting up after a long day at the office.

The curse user debates how to respond. His eyes read the next stops, hoping that he’ll have a reason to depart soon. He looks at his hands that are shifting in his lap. “Fine, I guess. Better than they were back then.”

“Huh,” she leans back with her arms behind her head. “Interesting.”

A few minutes pass as humans board the car they’re in. Suguru shifts away from them. “What’s life like for you?”

“Ah, you know. Boring. Still trying to figure out the path that we chatted about. Haven’t made any progress, but I expect it to take time.” She crosses her arms, leaning towards him. “You heard about the bounty they put on you?”

It should be a surprise, really, but Suguru just laughs. Of course jujutsu society would put a reward on him. It’s silly though, because no one could pursue it. He’s the strongest curse user to exist. 

No one but –

“Yep. Gojo has to do it.” She says the name with a sigh. “He’s been putting it off, of course, but they put a deadline on it. Do with that what you will.”

Suguru is speechless. The train stops before he can think of a response. Over the PA, his destination is announced. He doesn’t move at first. Maybe he can talk more with the sorcerer, get more information out of her. The dark haired man realizes then that he shouldn’t risk seeing anyone else today.

“This is my stop. I’ll see you around.” One quick turn is the last glance he gets of the sorcerer, who has her arms crossed now with a subtle smile on her lips. They make eye contact and she gives a slight bow before the doors close, separating the two. In seconds, she’s gone.

------------

With the food in his hands, Suguru hails a cab back to his home. The possibility of running into another sorcerer is low, but not enough to where he feels confident in taking the train again. He’s not willing to risk another reunion today.

The scent of the ramen makes his stomach growl. He watches the city speed through the window of the car. It’s been close to years since he’s taken a cab and even longer since he’s done so alone. Memories of rides back to Jujutsu Tech consume so much of his mind that he almost told the driver to take him back there. What a way to end the day.

For the first time since December, Suguru’s mind drags the white haired sorcerer to the forefront. Instead of a kind offering, it’s a malicious sacrifice. His head leans back against the cab’s seat as he sinks into the recollection. He doesn’t have the energy to fight. Let the approved suffocation take him.

“Suguru!”

“Suguru!”

The sorcerer blinks the sunlight out of his eyes. A hand blocks the rays so he can clearly see what’s in front of him.

“Hey, you good? That was a wicked curse.”

A pale hand is outstretched for him to take. “Yeah, I’m good, thanks, Satoru.”

The teenager's smile is brighter than the light in the sky. “I knew you’d be fine.”

Suguru accepts the hand, standing in the crumbling mall. “How long was I out?”

Satoru throws a hand in the air as if shooing a fly away. “Not that long. I trapped it so you can exorcise it.” The grin returns, this time, full of pride.

“I’ll take care of it later. Good job, Satoru.”

His partner beams.

The car slows to a stop as does the memory. Suguru says a quick thanks and exits the vehicle. His mind wanders back to that day with Satoru. After that mission, the two went to the ramen restaurant that Suguru picked food up from. He shakes his head at the realization.

As soon as the door clicks open, the girls excitedly greet him. “Geto-sama! Welcome home! Look at what Negi-sama taught us.” The twins run through the halls after begging him to follow.

“I’ll be right there, just let me drop dinner off in the kitchen,” he calls. The girls are out of earshot by the time he finishes speaking to them. He shakes his head. They’ll return in a minute, he’s sure.

Manami enters the room upon hearing the stampede. “Hey, welcome back. Brought dinner, huh?”

“Yeah, as a thank you to both of you for helping. I am really grateful for you two.”

She smiles and takes a seat at the dining table. It’s small, but it fits all five of them, so it’s plenty for their family. “Thank you for opening your home to us. I’m sure Tashihisa feels the same way.

“I fear that you two got the short end of the stick having to help with the kids, too,” he chuckles. “They’re wonderful, but even two requires a community.”

“That’s what we are here for, Suguru. Those of us with the same goals have to stick together. Even in the hard circumstances.”

-----------

Following dinner, Suguru spent some time with the girls who were very eager to show him their new jujutsu techniques. He is delighted with their progress. Someday they’re going to be strong. He’s already so proud.

The girls ask to watch a movie tonight, so Suguru puts on their favorite. It’s an animated movie from the 90s. The two are infatuated with it and since it’s such an easy way to keep them entertained, Suguru gladly sits with them as it plays.

His torturous mind wanders to the conversation on the train earlier. Do with that what you will.

What the hell is he supposed to do with that information?

No, the curse user doesn’t think his ex best friend is going to come after him. Suguru isn’t certain how he feels about him, but surely he wouldn’t kill him even if it came to that. Satoru has always despised the higher ups. He spent countless nights complaining to Suguru about the society, stating that he hopes to break free someday.

Suguru sets his jaw. They’re using him again.

This is the last thing that Suguru wanted for Satoru. Satoru isn’t just a weapon. He doesn’t deserve this.

The guilt devours Suguru as if he were nothing more than an appetizer. How could I have let this happen?

The image of Satoru pacing in his dorm room after getting the message that he was going to have to go after Suguru, to eliminate him, without being offered any empathy, makes Suguru’s blood boil.

Hearing his words ringing his ears isn’t enough to satisfy the crave. The need is demanding. It won’t stop until he refreshes it. It is cruel, unwavering. It will drown him in an ocean of cerulean if he doesn’t fix this.

Chapter Text

Satoru

March 30th, 2008

Depression isn’t anything Satoru ever thought would catch him. Being a jujutsu sorcerer who’s trained to be able to control their cursed energy, he thought that he would simply evade such a nasty thing. He thought he was invincible to it.

Satoru is learning quite a bit about himself now that Suguru is gone.

The couple of months have been monotonous. Arguably, graduation was a highlight, but without Suguru there, it felt stale. A ceremony that had been exposed to light too often, too exaggerated. Once it finally arrived, it was bitter.

Perhaps the sorcerer is burnt out. Maybe it’s not depression. Saving humanity almost daily with little to look forward to would probably make anyone feel the same way. 

What Satoru has to anticipate could be earth shattering in one of two ways: positive or negative. He just has to decide if he will pursue the potential opportunity.

A few days ago, he caught up with Shoko. They hadn’t spoken much since his birthday; mostly because the two were very busy with preparing for graduation, but Satoru made a point to see her and chat. Loneliness was a nasty disease that even Gojo Satoru couldn’t avoid.

Another problem he thought he could steer clear from just because he’s himself.

He ran into the healer in the morgue, which is where she’s been spending most of her time lately. “Hey,” he knocked.

“Oh, hey,” she half waved, barely giving him a glance. 

He helped himself inside, taking an empty chair against the wall. “How’s Utahime hanging in there in Kyoto? Yaga finally asked me to take on the teaching position,” he groans. “If she can do it there, I can absolutely accomplish it here.”

“She called yesterday. It had been a while, but she’s been really busy. They are setting up for new students. She’s got a lot on her plate with the Zenin clan. They’re posing a lot of issues, but she’s got plans on how to make it work.”

His expression stayed solid but underneath, his face cracked. Fushiguro Toji’s final words rang in his ears. Do as you please.

With everything going on, Satoru hadn’t given it much thought. Taking care of a child in his state seems impossible, but there is a part of him that doesn’t want the kid to go through his inevitable destiny. “Glad that she’s managing it well enough.”

“Yeah,” a yawn came from her mouth. “I’m kind of busy right now. Can we get dinner later or something? I’ve got a hard assignment I need to focus on. I’d like to see you, though.”

Satoru smirked. “I’m sure you would. Sushi later?”

“Sure thing.”

Since their conversation, the decision has been eating at him. In all honesty, it was something that he totally forgot about. It feels like a burden that he created for himself, given that he is the one who murdered the child’s father but then again, Fushiguro ruthlessly slaughtered Amani, Suguru, and Satoru. Still, the kid shouldn’t have to pay for the fault of his family. Satoru knows that well enough.

Yesterday, he was handed an assignment for today from a secretary, which is typically something he wouldn’t agree to, but with Nanami being the only other sorcerer around, Satoru reluctantly accepted. He let the current mission take his mind off of the circumstances. He still has time to decide. He’s only eighteen.

His current task is to exorcise a classified special grade curse at a mental hospital outside of Tokyo. The sun is shining brightly, trying to force the structure to accept its warmth, but the light is losing the battle. Dry grass crunches under Satoru’s feet as he slowly approaches the depressing building.

Once he is satisfied and sure he is alone, he draws a veil. The sky is devoured in darkness as the barrier swallows the earth around him.

A special grade doesn’t mean anything to him. An easy mission today, another quick special grade tomorrow, and then if he is lucky, the same outcome for the day after. If he can continue finding missions that force him to keep his distance from Jujutsu High, he can evade the higher ups too. Funny how that works.

The lobby is old, dark, and very empty, as to be expected. It still vibrates with feelings of discomfort, anxiety, and fear, although the cursed energy isn’t building up like it should be. If these walls had ever seen any positive moments, the memories are long gone, consumed by the despair that held the place in its jaws. Through cracked windows a small amount of light shines in and a gentle breeze intermittently passes through.

He takes a few strides forward, long legs taking him further than the average person, trying to determine what was going on. The building feels hollow, but not because of the absence of human life. It strangely lacks cursed energy. Jujutsu High had sent him here to exorcize a special grade and there is nothing here?

Not a soul in sight. Gritting his teeth, he relies on his other senses to determine the situation.

His heart sinks.

He knows that scent.

He walks backwards, desperate to close the space between him and the door as fast a s possible. He knew something wasn’t right. Why didn’t he listen to his instincts like he always does?

You’ve been waiting for this to happen. Now you just have to make your choice.

Satoru’s jaw sets in response to the intrusive thoughts. His eyes furiously wander behind the blindfold, although he doesn’t need his powers to tell him what was going on. Someone set him up. They pushed the deadline forward and then decided to torture him for what, some sort of wicked punishment?

The rage rushes through Satoru’s veins. They’re going to pay for this.

Any minute now a curse could materialize, leaving him defenseless due to his sheer panic but even so, he isn’t able to control himself. A fear of lack of restraint starts to find a home in his chest. The feeling is unwelcome, but Satoru’s opinion doesn’t matter. Fear doesn’t need an invitation.

Wrestling with himself internally, he thinks about fleeing the building. If he gets outside, where he has a better view around him, he could form a plan. Maybe Suguru isn’t here. Maybe he had been and it was only his residuals present now. Fresh air could slow his spiraling thoughts. If he could just get to the door –

“You’re late, Satoru.”

Paralysis pins the sorcerer’s feet to the floor. Although the tiles don't transform into a black hole, fear stirs inside of him, manifesting in powerlessness. Satoru feels weak.

Dressed in a blue and gold Kesa robe, the curse user slowly stepped towards him. His posture is perfect, shoulders pulled back, chest exposed, hands crossed in front of himself. Suguru’s jawline is tense, but his eyes are gentle. Flawless skin gleams in the crevice of light he stops to be visible in. His dark raven hair is swept back, half up, half down, bangs caressing each side of his sharp bone structure. His purple eyes are almost sparkling, any absence of life gone. 

Shoko was right. He looks like a human again. Satoru’s eyes wander all over him, trying to preserve every inch of him into his memory.

Suguru looks as beautiful as ever.

The six eyes stay on Suguru’s soul while also monitoring his body, following every breath in the movement of his chest.

Every part of Satoru’s body is screaming. His heart yearns in a slow ache pushing from behind his ribs. How many nights has he thought of this moment? He had so much time yet hadn’t thought it through, what he was going to say when they reunited. He just hopes Suguru would be able to forgive his faults as if letting nature have its way. His legs feel weak under the pressure of holding his body back. Without permission, his body lurches forward slightly, as he’s the ocean magnetized to its moon.

Frowning at his uncooperative body, he stops and shifts his thoughts. This is real and he isn’t allowed to give in.

It is unfair, but he can’t obey what his soul wants, even though he thinks he will be digging his own grave by the end of this if he doesn’t at least touch Suguru. His six eyes are insisting that he eliminate the threat immediately. Alarms are blaring behind his eyes, pulsing like a rapid heartbeat. The overwhelming power for anyone other than the strongest would have instantly controlled them, yet all Satoru can do is stand there and bury the all consuming impulse underneath a pile of unspoken words resting on his lips.

“So, my plan worked. You made it.” Suguru explains, smiling to himself. Pride radiates off of him. “I’m glad you’re finally here.”

Satoru stops breathing for a minute. “You set this up?” His heart pounds against his ribcage desperate to escape and to leap into Suguru’s arms. Surrender would come so easily because for years his desire had been starving for his soulmate’s affection. Action needs to be taken and his heart doesn’t care about the consequences.

Suguru nods while leaning forward. The space between the two closes like walls slowly trapping them. Shadows cover the curse user’s face. “I have been waiting for you to find me. I see your powers have gotten stronger. The blindfold is a new change. You’ve grown stronger.”

Fluttering occurs inside Satoru’s chest at the recognition from his lost lover. The delighted smile his other half is wearing in his honor makes his legs weak. The only one who has ever mattered is Suguru. All he wants is to make him proud. To please him. If only he could have cheered him on for the past six months.

“Yeah, Suguru, I’ve been training.” Satoru bites, hoping his other half has not yet caught onto his cover. “I’m here now. What do you want?”

The grin never leaves Suguru’s face, but it rots. “I’ve missed you Satoru. Why did I have to drag you out? Where have you been hiding?”

Me? He is the coward who left him behind and the one who has been running. Satoru doesn’t even have a clue of where Suguru could have gone. The last six months are a complete blur, as if Satoru was trudging through a thick fog the entire time. Nothing occurred that contained importance to him. Day in and day out, he only saved people, it was nothing new.

He was hiding though, wasn’t he? He has been tucking his fear of the sudden and irrational actions from the higher ups beneath blankets of confidence, slyness, and his typical stubbornness. The only advantage that Satoru has been able to hold over them is the fact that he is a Gojo and inherently, he is the strongest. They don’t have a way to surpass him. It would take seconds for him to destroy everything they have built for a future where they have the six eyes under their thumb. He has to pick his battles and use the upper hand where he can.

His eyes are ablaze underneath the blindfold. Even though feels like he lacks control of the situation, he knows it would be easy for him to win. His instincts are reliable. Suguru is aware of that too. It is simply a matter of putting his emotions to the side this time. Maybe if he pushes Suguru away, if he makes him think he hates him, they would both make it out of this alive. 

“First of all, you are the one who committed genocide. Then you were the one who left me behind. You knew where I was if you wanted to find me,” he spits.

The curse user’s face falls into a pout, mocking Satoru. A hand lands on his chest as if he is in pain. He seems so calm compared to Satoru’s panicked state. A predator knowing that they have the upper hand. “So you didn’t want to find me? I thought you’d miss me at least a little.”

“What is it that you want, Suguru?”

“You.”

Seething, Satoru stands tense, holding his ground. “Who told you about the bounty?” he quietly demands. That has to be why he brought him here. The curiosity of what the sorcerer was going to do must have been clawing at the curse user.

“Satoru,” the dark haired man dramatically sighs. “After my actions, it would be silly of them not to send you after me. It was simply a matter of time before they pointed their strongest weapon in my direction. I grew tired of waiting for you, although it did provide me some comfort, like the old days –“

Satoru cuts him off, furious that this has turned into a catching up moment. He isn’t interested in playing games, especially when he had the higher-ups hounding him. Satoru has been petrified of running into his soulmate because he knew he would have to face their fate when the time came. What if he is being watched right now?

The reality that they will find out about this ripped a hole into his chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He longs for a different universe, one where he came here to exorcise a curse, not to run into his soulmate for the first time since that gut wrenching day. The next step will be to find alternative ways of terminating Suguru. He doesn't have time for this. 

“Suguru. We are not going to play mind games. They want me to eliminate you and if I don’t, they will find someone else to do it.”

Once the words left his lips, Satoru’s stomach plummets. There isn’t a way out of this, is there? Satoru is the strongest sorcerer and will continue to be until his final day. Gojo Satoru is a weapon that belongs to the world. They decide where to point him.

There isn’t anyone else who can eliminate Suguru. Satoru might be able to buy more time, but all routes point in the same direction. Suguru will die by his hands.

Just like the thoughts, his breathing becomes out of control. The room starts to spin slightly, throwing him off balance. There isn’t anything he can grab onto; nothing but shadows circle him. The darkness crawls like a fog at his feet. He puts a hand on his head while reaching for the wall with his opposite, trying to stabilize himself. Human impulses take over, forcing his powers to shut down.

His vision falters. The six eyes fail to cooperate. Satoru is completely blindsided, as if the swarm of flyheads is present again. Not only can he not see where Suguru is, he can’t see anything at all. Someone is grasping his neck but how? Limitless should be protecting him. 

Satoru claws at his neck, trying to pry the fingers of anxiety off of it. It feels like there is a hatch inside of his throat that he can’t force open to let oxygen through. A tourniquet that he can’t release. With each gasp he tries to open it, but the device is stronger than his will.

Feeling utterly helpless, he stumbles onto all fours, trying to reorient himself with the room. Waves of ringing sounds crash through his ears, drowning out any other noises. Bile stings at the back of his throat. Tipping his head back, he feels warm tears spilling down his cheeks through the drenched blindfold.

Satoru isn’t here anymore. His body is out of his control because his soul is no longer tied to it. Nothing is real.

Nothing is real. These hands aren’t mine. This body isn’t mine.

The comfort of derealization cradles him. He’s swaddled in a warm towel of disassociation and it’s enough to pull his body back to shore.

Slowly, his senses start functioning again. 

It begins with the soft touch of fingers in his hair, gently caressing the back of his skull. The sensation is foreign. Satoru doesn’t know what touch is like, but his body slowly stops thrashing and gasping for air as if this is the medication it craves. The ache of his lungs is something to cling to, even though the pain hurts. 

Although his body has started to settle, thoughts are a tornado spiraling out of control. Satoru chases them, but can’t catch any of them. 

I can’t see anything. Someone is touching me. How is someone touching me? What is happening? Why am I malfunctioning? Where am I? 

His brain pulls memories of summer into the forefront of his mind like a gentle peace offering. 

The smell of cigarettes, thick and sweet jasmine, and the scent of osmanthus flowers floods his senses.

“Satoru!”

Satoru’s face feels warm. A broad smile is painted on his mouth. He hears Suguru’s laugh echo through his mind. Pride swells in Satoru’s chest. He loves making Suguru laugh. 

Below him, he can feel the bench and beside him, Suguru’s thigh pressing against his. They each have a drink and snacks sitting on their opposite side. The fizz of the pop sparkled on the back of Satoru’s tongue. Suguru has savory senbei, opposite of Satoru’s sweet Hi-Chew. Satoru offered to share, but Suguru didn’t accept. His voice was sweet when he said that Satoru could help himself to his crackers if he wants, though.

His best friend is looking at the clouds, thinking about which one looks like each of them. The dark sorcerer’s hair is pulled back into a low bun. His bangs fall towards his ear when he points to the sky. For Satoru, a cat shaped cotton ball with long whiskers that match his eyelashes. For Suguru, Satoru chooses a dragon shaped cloud, thinking of his favorite curse that Suguru owns.

Their shoulders brush each other’s. Satoru glances at the other sorcerer’s hand that’s merely inches away from his. Blush creeps up his neck as he thinks about what it would feel like to touch him. What it would feel like to push past the invisible line neither of them acknowledged creating.

From above, the clouds part, causing the sun beams to spread warmly onto them. The light casts a shadow across Suguru’s forehead. Satoru teases him, pointing out that the sun wouldn't stay out of his purple eyes. “It must be mad at you today,” Satoru jokes. Secretly, he is thankful because he likes to see it reflected in his best friend’s eyes. He swears that they sparkle in the light.

The returning chill of the building violently rips the memory from underneath him. Feeling returns to his body so Satoru absentmindedly pulls his knees to his chest. Using a technique that worked before, he starts rocking, desperate for solace. He pays special attention to his breathing until something in his brain clicks. Time seems to slow its progress, giving him more space than he bargains for. Breathing in again, he realizes what triggered the relief. Cigarettes, amber, osmanthus flowers. A year ago, Suguru’s scent brought him enough peace to sleep. Having him here now must have accomplished the same outcome.

“Satoru?”

Through panic filled eyes, he lifts his head to search the curse user’s face. He feels like a deer in headlights.

“There you are.”

Suguru is kneeling in front of Satoru. One hand is on Satoru’s shoulder and the other on his knee. “Do you remember where you are? Can you hear me?”

Satoru’s eyes travel to the building surrounding them. “Let me–” Satoru’s voice cuts off. The actions were too quick. He’s swimming in a field of white again.

“Can you please focus on your breathing?”

His six eyes start to work, although he isn’t interested in looking at anything other than Suguru’s soul. The sorcerer wonders if there would come a day where the panic attack would be enough to break his powers completely. What if they never work again? He puts his head in his hands, rubbing his forehead.

The shift causes Suguru to blink, and gently pull himself away from his opponent. Taking a seat on the floor across from him, he watches the white haired man carefully, still not muttering a word. Above him, light from a skylight scatters onto Suguru. The sun’s rays danced across his forehead, providing the perfect amount of light for Satoru to see his beautiful face.

Suguru’s expression is serene, understanding, and patient, like it always had been before. As if he never defected. The request for him to come back, to touch him again, sits on the back of his tongue. He needs to focus. He can’t lose control of infinity again.

The blindfold is soaked with tears and sweat. Satoru reluctantly removes it. Instead of making the eye contact that he knows will make his knees quiver, he stares at the floor. It takes a few minutes, but Satoru eventually pulls himself together. The only problem he can’t fix is the burning in his eyes from the hot tears.

“Did you bring me here to force me to confess my weaknesses? If so, it’s hurtful that you act like you don’t know who I am.” Bitterly, Satoru hopes his words sting. Resent, like grief, is thick and hard to move through.

He is greeted by nothing but silence. It is almost worse than the looming contempt.

“You know that you, Suguru, are still my only weakness. Are you here because you are desperately hoping I will willingly admit that I have always had feelings for you?” He lets the confession flow out of his mouth like a stream. What is the point in hiding it anymore? Suguru has just witnessed the second most embarrassing part of him.

After the guilt of never coming clean to him arrived and overstayed its welcome, Satoru promised himself that the next time he saw Suguru, he would come clean. He doesn’t know how long he would have with Suguru and he owes it to himself to let his fear go.

Suguru quickly turns his face away, but Satoru notices. He catches a glimpse of the crimson that crept up on his face. Over the six months that they were apart, Satoru carved every blemish into his brain as if he would never see them again. It was foolish of the curse user to think that he would be able to hide something from Satoru of all people. He couldn’t have forgotten how often Satoru studied him as if he was a statue to be honored.

Satoru’s body stutters once again. He kicks himself for putting himself through so much in a short period of time. The rapid switch from fury to fear makes his head feel like it’s floating. The vulnerability is effervescent, although it changed from feeling physically so to emotionally. He wants to be thankful that everything was out in the open now, but he feels ambivalent. If he couldn’t before, Suguru can absolutely see through his lies now.

“I-”, the dark haired man stops himself, deciding against saying his initial thoughts. The words seem to be caught in his throat, unable to be extracted. He fidgets with his hair a bit, pushing it back behind his shoulders and then finally decides to put his hands in his lap. Once he is content with his method of stringing a sentence together, he speaks again. Now his voice is thin, no longer able to carry the weight of the words unsaid.

“I brought you here because I couldn’t stand the thought of them continuing to use you as their weapon. This world I want to create,” he pauses, making eye contact for the first time. “It is to protect the person I care about the most. I am tired of Jujutsu High treating you like you are a machine and nothing else.”

Satoru takes a moment to process what he just heard. The other man dodges discussing Satoru’s confession, which takes him off guard. He has finally come clean and this was the reaction he got?

“You realize that I know this is purely a way for you to preserve your own life.”

It would be foolish to ignore the fact that two things could be true, but he knows at least one was. Although Suguru might have feelings for Satoru, he knows that by stopping Satoru from killing him, he will be able to live and carry out his plan if he so chooses. If Suguru stops Satoru from viewing him as a threat and instead persuades Satoru to spare him, who else could carry out the plan for Jujutsu High? Suguru would be effortlessly free forever.

Pieces of the atmosphere click back into place like a puzzle as Satoru barricades himself again. The bond is broken. He sincerely hopes the curse user was offended by the sudden lack of trust. The betrayal throbs worse than it had been back in September.

Satoru’s nose wrinkles as a snarl forms on his lips. He feels like a dog with its hackles raised. Hands ball into fists at his sides as he prepares himself. His body shudders involuntarily, working hard to keep him upright. The thundering paws of anger rise up into his chest and his throat. It demands to be acknowledged; to be felt. It wants to live inside of his words, underneath his skin, and behind his eyes. The desire to believe that Suguru wants to be together was childish, immature, and he needs to give it up. He is prepared now and will be able to defend himself. He will at least be able to protect his heart.

That voice strikes again. It has been six months and you haven’t been able to get over him.

He ignores this thought, shoving it out of his mind and slamming the door.

"Are you seriously trying to use me to save your life? Did I ever mean anything to you? You’re not acting any better than them. I am not just a monkey that you can make dance, Suguru,” he spits the dark haired man’s name to prove a point.

Lighthearted laughter rises from his opponent, bouncing off of the walls of the dark, dreary space. He looks at the floor, shaking his head, wearing a tight bitter smile. Satoru isn’t sure why, but is frustrated about how his other half doesn’t care about the venom he used to call his previous friend’s name. His heart would have lurched if the action was done to him.

It doesn’t seem like his plan was working. Like always, Suguru can see every color of Satoru with just one glance. He used to find comfort in that; knowing that no matter how he arrived, he would be welcomed as if he were the sun after weeks of rainy days. Satoru begins to reminisce, thinking about what he would do to get those days back.

The feeling is unnatural, new, and wildly uncomfortable for Satoru. Gojo Satoru being prey? Everyone in the jujutsu world knew his name. He is aware that he is feared and though he has never taken advantage of that, aside from using it against the higher ups, he grew accustomed to it. That was his downfall. That was why Amani had died.

The terror overtakes him. For the last year and a half he had poured his entire energy into training so he wouldn’t face failure again. None of that mattered now. The color red started to melt into his line of vision, encroaching on his sanity. Discomfort and fear kicked the hope outside of his body, maliciously excited to have their turn to be in control. He is on his feet now, challenging the curse user to stand up to him. He feels feral, pushed over the edge. The alarms are blaring again, forcing him to pay attention to his anger. His face curls into a snarl again as he demands to know what he was bargaining for.

Suguru holds his head high as he addresses Satoru, looking regal, as if he knows something Satoru didn’t. Perhaps he does. Maybe he knows that Satoru’s devotion to him is still as demanding as the day they had met. The first time Satoru saw his violet eyes, the world had simultaneously expanded and contracted to being Suguru and only Suguru.

The undying allegiance to him was an old wound that he kept picking at, refusing to let it heal. Something had to keep him tethered to Suguru. It was foolish of him to think that he needed a physical reminder of the love he felt for Suguru. He knew now that the gaping hole Suguru left would always exist.

Light forms a ring against his black hair. Satoru glares at it.

“I understand why you can’t trust me. I haven’t given you any reason to.” His words are thoughtfully wrapped in a gentle tone. Nothing less should have been expected, coming from Suguru. “But Satoru.”

He winces at the gentle way Suguru whispers his name. The unnecessary muscle flutters in his chest miserably wanting to trust what he was saying. Why can’t he just have what he wanted this once? The hellhound of rage is stirring inside of him, panting and pacing. The sorcerer curls his hands into fists, clenching his jaw, at war with himself. Trying to get his body to follow his mind and ignore Suguru’s attempts at breaking down the walls he has worked day and night to put up is more difficult than he expected.

“I know how much hate you hold for that place. Let me help you tear it down.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Satoru barks. 

Suguru shrugs, not as if he doesn’t know how to answer, but suggesting that he is surprised the inquirer doesn’t know. Daring to make eye contact, he continues. “You hate the higher ups and want to ruin them for what they have done to all of us. You could do that, you know.” A spark passes through his purple eyes, as natural as water flowing in a river. A hint of inspiration, desire, and the fire that hadn’t been present for the last year they were together.

Vulnerability won’t release its teeth from Satoru, instead its grip tightening with every word. He is ensnared and there isn’t an easy way out.

Although there is never an easy way for Satoru though, is there? 

Loyalty is a tight string between the two. Even after Suguru’s actions, Satoru still feels their bond. Dogged devotion. There isn’t much he won’t do for Suguru if he asks.

A sly smile plays at the corners of the dark haired man’s lips. He leans towards Satoru and whispers, “Why don’t you join me?”

Satoru’s eyes squint as he looks down at the other man. The tension of the rope that ties them together is pulling Satoru closer to his opponent. He lets the rope burn his hands while he struggles to keep the distance between them. “You want me to join you, eliminate Jujutsu High, and then massacre all non sorcerers? A minute ago you said you think you know me better than anyone. Who the hell do you think I am?”

“Gojo Satoru,” Suguru responds, not missing a beat.

It was always as if Satoru was a book lying open on Suguru’s bedside table waiting to be deciphered. Their relationship is a language only they can understand.

Satoru hates how well Suguru knows him. Satoru never hid his hatred for the higher ups from anyone. Even they themselves know how much distaste for them lives in his bones. Venom rises in his throat any time they are in the room or they are mentioned in conversation.

Even before he entered the system, he was conscious of what was going on. No one above him cared about the lives of the sorcerers; sometimes even Yaga seemed unaffected. They are pawns in a chess game, either completely trapped in this score or easily replaceable. He complained about it with his parents, risking his stature, hoping to encourage them to implement change, but they chastised him, reminding him that his duty was to be a Satoru. He has a destiny to follow.

Still, he despises the higher ups and that hatred has started to bleed.

Only Suguru knows however, that Satoru actually has considered murdering them. Not only has he thought about it, he has plans in case the day ever comes.

Smirking, the obsidian haired man observes as Satoru wrestles with his thoughts. “You are seeking an excuse to be pushed over the edge.”

Suguru finally rises to his feet, slowly stepping towards the sorcerer. Satoru stiffens, ensuring his infinity will keep enough space between the two of them. The clock ticks, every second that passes is a minute of time that the two are wasting. None of this is promised to return. The love for Suguru leaks out of his body. He craves being close to Suguru as if he is the moon directing Satoru, the tides. The pull is instinctual, primal, and automatic.

Suguru comes closer than he has yet, pushing against the boundary of infinity. “I will support your decision,” his voice is low.

“I don’t need your approval.”

A moment passes.

“Let your limitless down, Satoru,” the curse user begs.

Frowning, he keeps his blue eyes on his face, waiting for some reprieve. Satoru considers pushing him away, but that would only make things worse. Once he releases the tight resistance, he doesn’t think he will be able to reach for it again.

The two are so close that Satoru is inhaling the breaths Suguru is releasing. The closest they had ever been, yet the furthest Satoru has felt from Suguru. He wants to deny all of it, to flee and forget that it ever happened. Fear seethes in his chest

His eyes switch between looking at Suguru’s plush lips and the lavender fields of his eyes. The details he longed to remember are right in front of him. The subtle creases underneath his eyes, the touch of blemishes on his face, and his soft, smooth skin. He is backed up against a wall, feeling completely vulnerable. Desire and therefore embarrassment cling to him like an odor.

Denial rose in his throat like bile. The taste is acidic and inescapable.

He can’t agree to going with him. Suguru knows that. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t be with him now.

Satoru blinks in response to the thought.

He has had enough of the yearning and the waiting. Why does he always have to sacrifice everything he ever wanted? Doesn’t he deserve a home to return to, like everyone else? He is consumed by the hope of not needing to use any defense mechanisms on Suguru. He wants him. He needs his soulmate. Anything else in the world can wait.

Excitement bristles underneath his skin. Questions of what if? dance at the back of his lungs. Satoru can’t think rationally, except for now it is because he can’t think about anything but Suguru’s lips and his tongue.

In a brief moment of weakness, Satoru drops the guard before rational thoughts can hit the brakes.

They’re kissing.

A dam of warmth spreads like wildfire through his body, starting in his stomach, expanding rapidly. A mixture of relief, desire, and passion burns inside of his chest. Suguru smiles against Satoru’s mouth. He pushes Satoru back against the cold wall, pinning one of his hands, while his other hand slides into white hair.

His lips are as soft as Satoru has always imagined. Satoru won’t let him get more than an inch away before returning for another passionate kiss. His free hand clutches Suguru’s hip, pulling him closer, holding him as if he is his only lifeline. He doesn’t know how to handle himself. The sorcerer is rapidly unraveling underneath the curse user’s touch, unable to pick up all of the pieces. He simply crumbles underneath the touch of his lost lover.

Nothing matters more than this.

“There hasn’t been a day that I haven’t thought about you, Satoru,” Suguru purrs, sliding his lips across the other man’s jawline. He is still holding Satoru’s hand against the wall, but his other hand now grips his waist, closing the space between them.

Satoru parts Suguru’s lips and slides his tongue into the cave of his mouth. Suguru releases Satoru, moving his hands to more intimate areas of his body

A hand gently settles onto Satoru’s neck, tickling the base of his hair. Suguru’s thumb caresses Satoru’s jawline where he had been placing his lips minutes before. Suguru groans as Satoru’s newly free hands wander his body. His mind crosses from lips, teeth, tongue, to chest, arms, and waist. He functions completely on human instinct and still, the movements between the two feel so natural. Those few months of abandonment weren’t too enough for the two to forget the way each other’s bodies moved.

Satoru lets out a brief whine as Suguru’s mouth moves down his collarbones. His hands are entangled in black hair, directly on his partner’s warm skin. With every inch that he moves, his grip tightens. Satoru refuses to let his lost lover move too far from him. Did he ever know could feel this good?

The curse user hisses as he feels the bite of Satoru’s nails. In response, he presses his lips to the sweet spot between Satoru’s neck and shoulder. Pain causes fireworks in the area, causing Satoru to inhale sharply, as if a knife slides smoothly through his breath. Their movements start to become sloppy, a balance of less precision and more passion.

As their lips meet again, a mix of emotions swarm Satoru’s stomach. Suguru’s scent overwhelms Satoru. Warm, sweet, with a touch of spice. He wants this to last forever, but the uncertainty of what the future held stood at the door, waiting to be let inside. Every minute that ticks pass is one less that he would be able to spend here in peace. It feels like time is a river whose current had swept him under. Swimming is impossible, so he just has to wait for the end.

Panting, Suguru pulls away from Satoru’s lips. His purple eyes are pinned to Satoru’s swollen lips, only centimeters away. A hand rests against the wall next to his white hair that was now pointing in every direction. Suguru gives Satoru a satisfied smile as he looks upon his masterpiece, proud of his work.

“I have really missed you,” he proclaims as he lays his lips on Satoru’s ear. A simultaneous confession and promise. 

“I know.” He hopes Suguru won’t be able to tell he is lying. Although he doesn’t believe Suguru’s words, he remembers that he still does know him well enough to be aware if he is lying. He can’t detect any evidence of one.

Suguru rests a hand on Satoru’s chin, gently adjusting it so their faces are in line. Their chests heave together, not from intensity, but from fear of forgetting. There is an uncertainty painted onto Suguru’s face, as if he isn’t sure how to move forward from their shared moment. 

“Please,” Satoru’s voice cracks as he pulls the onyx haired man back to his lips. He knows the moment is going to pass and he’s not ready to let it go again.

“Sato, hey, you’re shaking.” His lover refuses the white haired man’s pull. Sorrowful eyes glance up at Satoru. 

Exhaling a shaky breath, Satoru crumbles. The touch was too much and not enough. The dam is broken. There is nothing to return to, but forward is a scary place to walk towards. The sorcerer wonders if more time would have prepared him for this moment.

“I just, I have missed you more than I can express.”

“So have I,” he purrs.

“Tell me why you left me,” Satoru mutters. His voice is firm and his jaw is tight. The wall is cold against the back of his skull.

Suguru inhales. His eyes glances down at Satoru’s hand, seeming to debate if he wants to take it or not. He brings his gaze back up to Satoru’s face and locks his jaw.

“You didn’t need me in the ways that I needed you.” His face darkens, wearing an expression of shame. “I wish I had spoken to you, but,” he stops. Eyes wandering, he searches for the words to make things seem right, as if there is a way for truth to hurt less. “There is too much to say for the little time we have, but you need to know that there was nothing you could have done to fix the situation, Satoru.”

Bravery brings his eyes to Satoru’s. “I was hiding behind my fear and I built myself a shield using rage. I felt like I was drowning in a river of death. No one was capable of pulling me out.

“On top of that,” his face turns sour. Clouds cast a film over the violet sea of his eyes. “Consuming the dirtiest parts of the world for the ungrateful monkeys that live in it –”

Satoru swallows, anxious about what is going to continue to conspire.

Understanding the discomfort from the other man, Suguru switches topics. “I am not seeking your pity. I am taking accountability for my actions. I did things that I can’t change and I fear that I will question them for the rest of my existence. However, my conviction still stands; I want to rid this world of every non jujutsu sorcerer to protect sorcerers. No one else will have to go through what we and our friends did.

“I want you to know that I never held any hatred for any of our fellow peers. I just couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile while living in that world.”

For the first time in a while, Satoru does not have a response. He watches as Suguru locks his jaw making eye contact with the floor of the abandoned building. Wide blue eyes searched his lover’s face for answers to the question of how he is supposed to proceed.

The explanation is one he has been seeking for months and it isn’t what he expected it to be. An admission that he desperately sought but now that he was handed it, he is not satisfied. There has to be more, but time is the true enemy here. The sun has been taken over by the moon, leaving the only light available from the reflection of the crescent moon and the stars that are peeking into the scene in the hospital. They too desperately want to get a view of the reunion, after seeing how long the two of them had pined for each other. Time doesn’t care though; it flees with no concern for the two lost lovers who had spent months yearning for each other. It had been there watching and patiently waiting but now that they were together, the concern it originally had disappeared, like the minutes are now.

Suguru snaps the silence like a twig. “I am serious about you coming with me. I want you with me, Satoru.” The malicious intent Satoru was concerned about has been replaced with something more intimate. Something more precious. Their foreheads are an inch apart as Suguru teases the idea of placing his lips on Satoru’s again. Suguru brushes the hair out of Satoru’s eyes. 

“Is this real?” Satoru murmurs with eyes closed, leaning into Suguru’s warm touch.

Suguru gives a weak smile. “Yes, Satoru. You and I are together right now.” He knows what the sorcerer is going to say. They can’t hold onto the thorns forever.

Blinking, Satoru opens watery eyes. His stomach aches. “Suguru,” he starts, biting his lip to hold back the pain of the words he is about to speak.

The routine of hiding is still persistent. Old habits die hard.

He has replayed this conversation in his mind thousands of times, but now words are stuck in his throat, unable to settle on his lips. All of those sleepless nights that he debated what he could have said to change things have fled, like weak curses who sense sorcerers in the vicinity.

“I want to say yes,” his voice cracks. His tone continues to tremble as he steps over the words that are spilling out of his mouth. He watches Suguru’s stoic expression look over Satoru, waiting for his refusal of his offer. “But I cannot support your actions,” the words now stumble out of his mouth. If he stops to even breathe, his mind will change. “I cannot change my morals for you. I–”

Satoru was biting his tongue, trying to hold the words ‘I’m sorry’ in. What was his apology even for? Not wanting to help him commit genocide? He almost let a laugh slip out in response to his own actions, but he couldn’t catch air. The emotions are stealing the air from his lungs like Suguru once stole his heart.

Suguru’s eyes scan Satoru’s face for any feelings behind those words. The two of them waltz as they always did, unwilling to undress their vulnerabilities in front of the other, so they dance around the subject, avoiding it at all costs. He stands straight, arms disappearing into his robe as he crosses them over his chest.

Nothing can be said, for nothing is going to be done.

Anxiety sets in as he realizes that Suguru is slipping through his fingers again, like grains of sand on an everlasting mountain. He had spent too many waking moments wishing for a moment where he could confess, only to now not know what to do. Indecision stands between Satoru and his desires, but something else he refuses to acknowledge blocks the way too.

"Wait,” Satoru mutters, reaching into the darkness that his lover had escaped into. The invisible wall between them broke. The intimacy they shared is shredded on the floor. Satoru is now truly exposed. The man he wants another minute of touch from is barely out of his reach now. 

"I have spent the last year being unable to forgive myself for so many actions, but the worst one,” he stutters. “The worst was not expressing how I feel about you. I wanted you and only you. I would have done anything for you.” 

Satoru bit his tongue. He shouldn’t have implied that he would no longer do anything for Suguru. The desire to follow Suguru is ablaze, but there is unfinished business holding him back.

Suguru gives him a sidelong glance. “I know, Satoru.” He closes his eyes before slowly continuing. “I want you to be less generous. It’s costing you. Be greedier. You deserve a world that you chose for yourself.”

Satoru opens his mouth to respond, planning to rebut that he doesn’t see himself as selfless, but Suguru cuts in on the words, the same as the way he used to interrupt Satoru’s arrogant comments.

“I am not talking about you being egotistical. I know that you already are. This isn’t about Satoru. I’m not talking about curses, strength, or power. I am talking about Satoru. What Satoru wants. I want you to give Gojo Satoru the life he wishes for.”

The weight of those words hangs in the air, heavy and bold. Suguru watched Satoru’s face silently. Stillness keeps the air in clutch as neither of them speaks a word. The string that holds want and need is pulled taut between the two.

Temptation dangles in front of the sorcerer. All he has to do is bite. But an invitation looks like bait in a trap in different lighting.

The crossroad stares him down. One path leads to Suguru living and the other likely leads to his death. The problem lies in the fact that Satoru has to decide right now.

Questions suddenly spill out of his mouth as Satoru seeks to be offered any hope for their future. His heart skips a couple of beats, light as a feather, as he saw the possibility just outside of his reach. Satoru allows himself to lean into the thought just for a second. What a life could be like with Suguru. Having everything he wants. The contemplations pour out of his mind like a faucet that he can’t shut off. Envisioning a life with Suguru. Maybe they could get an apartment together. It wouldn’t have to be small. Satoru is eighteen, meaning he could provide for himself with the Satoru clan’s money. It could work. It could actually work.

A light, devious smile lays on his lips. Eyes are bright with wonder of possibility as he looks up at Suguru. Childlike dreams surround his thoughts in pastel chalk. Dust flutters through the air from the utensils he wrote the ideas down with.

“When am I supposed to come with you? How would I leave them? Where are you even staying?” 

Then he realizes his mistake.

The words die on his tongue as he turns around to emptiness. Asking for information probably seemed like a setup; of course the curse user wouldn’t tell him.

Suguru used the moment to head back into the shadows he had arrived from. Lying to himself, he led himself to believe that he hadn’t expected an answer, it was more that he was trying to determine how they would even live. In reality, Satoru couldn’t leave. He was a Gojo. He was born into having too many promises to keep and that was his destiny. His heart sinks into his stomach knowing that he just lost his chance to be with his soulmate again.

“You don't trust me." Satoru quietly sighs, backing towards the door. He knows it is time. 

His lips feel pillowy and sore from his interaction with Suguru. His body yearns for more affection. He wishes he could let his infinity down, even only to be held. 

He is willing to settle. If only he had a little more time.

Rising quickly like the waters of a flood, the reminder that Suguru is probably just using his feelings to preserve his life settles in his mind. How foolish was he? How childish? Perhaps he truly hasn’t learned enough from the betrayal of his lost lover.

A bitterness stalls at the back of Satoru’s throat, chasing the love he just felt away as if it were prey to be consumed.

Satoru’s mistake was coming here. He wishes he had escaped before any of this happened. The higher ups would have accepted a fake report; Satoru had done it before. He would have been able to come up with a better lie than he could now. If he had just been strong enough to take the steps towards the door, he wouldn’t be encompassed by guilt. 

His body is uneasy. Every step he takes further from Suguru makes his head and heart argue but ultimately, his morals win.

“I hope I don’t see you again, Suguru. I don’t want to have to kill you,” he mumbles into the dark nothingness as he puts his hand on the door. He doesn’t turn to see Suguru’s shattered expression watching him take his steps outside of the abandoned facility. Suguru locks his jaw in the shadows, watching his soulmate leave for the final time.

Silently saying goodbye to his heart, Satoru steps into the cold evening air. It slams into his lungs, reminding him that this is reality. He did just leave the love of his life behind and the path in front of him is inevitable. The higher ups are going to make him kill Suguru.

Chapter Text

Satoru

March 31st, 2008

Plastic from the half eaten bag of Hi-Chew crumbles as Satoru shoves his hand inside to pull another piece of candy out. The wrapper rips easily under his fingers. Dragonfruit bursts onto his tongue. He smiles and before finishing the bite, he pulls another piece out of the bag.

Satoru’s free hand is punching buttons on the Nintendo. All of his focus is on the pixelated characters in front of him. The game is too easy, but he still enjoys it more than anything else. 

It’s better than thinking about his lips and his eyes and ‘I want you to give Satoru the life he wants’.

The console makes a sad, defeated noise as the player loses. Satoru slams the device onto his desk before checking to make sure that it still works. His elbows rest on the desk while his hands prop his head up.

He could have Suguru, but at what cost?

The sorcerer scoffs. Sure, the possibility of a life with Suguru crossed his mind yesterday, when he was swimming in a sea of lavender. It was childish. Stupid. If he gave in, if he leapt into Suguru’s arms, they would never have the life he dreams of. In no world where there are curses and jujutsu would they live peacefully in an apartment with a dumb cat, a television, and video games. They wouldn’t have a cupboard full of senbei and daifuku. No movies would play on a loop in the background as they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

No. Satoru lives in a reality where he doesn’t have a choice. In this universe, Gojo Satoru will always be a weapon. He will always be used and he will always be lonely. Those are the only truths that he was promised from day one of this life. He needs to remember that, accept it for what it is, and move on.

Today though, Satoru will let himself cry over it. He will give in to the grief for the last time.

------------

Suguru

March 31st, 2008

“Hey, slow down!” Suguru chases the girls through a field just outside of Tokyo. Their laughter wraps into a symphony before it reaches his ears.

“Give us a few minutes Geto-sama!”

Suguru chuckles with the two girls as they play hide and seek in the vast space. Tashihisa has been teaching them how to control cursed energy, and the kids love the game he’s turned it into. If they can’t hide their cursed energy well enough, the seeker, who is only allowed to search via using the scanning for the negative energy. 

Toshihisa’s senses aren’t as refined as Suguru’s are, so he’s better at playing the pastime with the girls, but the curse user does his best to avoid making it too difficult for the girls.

It’s early afternoon. The twins have insisted on playing since late morning. Not only is it hard to say no to spending time with them, but it’s also impossible to decline helping them train. Suguru wants them to be as strong as possible while giving them the best childhood he can manage. They shouldn’t have to sacrifice their youth for the life of being curse users.

“Ready or not, I’m searching for you.”

Wind whistles through the tall grass that brushes against the dark haired man’s legs. His eyes are closed as he wanders through the park. The girls hardly hold giggles back, giving themselves away. Suguru wants to build their confidence, so he walks in the opposite direction of the noise.

His path is interrupted by a rock that he stumbles over. He bites his tongue, cursing underneath his breath. Maybe he shouldn’t have closed his eyes.

Mimiko laughs at his injury, coming out from her hiding spot behind him. “That was silly, Geto-sama!”

Embarrassment shows on his face. “It was, wasn’t it? You guys are just too good at this! Where’s your sister? Do you want to find her?”

The dark haired six year old nods eagerly. “I think she’s this way!”

“Mimiko-san! Use your senses. Try to find her from her cursed energy.”

“Okay!” The girl calls as she races through the field.

Suguru chuckles and shakes his head.

What would it be like if Satoru was here?

The intrusive thought bothers Suguru. He isn’t surprised; this occurs so frequently, but given it’s only been twenty four hours since their reunion, his mind has been betraying him more than usual.

What would it be like if Satoru was helping him train the girls? With his track record, Suguru can’t imagine he would enjoy it very much. The man lacks patience in the way that the summer lacks snow. It has never been part of the universe.

It’s a little ironic though, given how immature he is. Perhaps they’re too alike to coexist. It’s probably for the best that Suguru won’t have to find out.

After reflecting on yesterday’s meeting, Suguru doesn’t think he can call it a failure. He knows he treated Satoru horribly on that day six months ago. Is his ego so large that he expected some sort of forgiveness? No, though he does feel sick thinking that Satoru left with the notion that Suguru’s objective was to preserve his own life. And Satoru thought Suguru was the one who forgot the shape of his soulmate’s heart.

Wrestling with guilt isn’t going to get him anywhere, but at least the self loathing is corporeal. The feeling might not redeem his soul, but Suguru won’t find out until the end. Satoru is the only one who would know until then

Suguru simply hopes for the sorcerer to realize that he has the ability to choose in this life. Gojo may be the world’s weapon, but there’s a man inside of the machine who deserves to be more than just artillery.

“Geto-sama! I found her!”

“I’m so proud of you,” Suguru praises the girls. “Nice job to both of you.”

“Can we get mochi now?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “You two are insatiable! Sure, let’s go.” The two immediately take off running towards town. “Hey, slow down!” The curse user sighs as he takes off after them.

-----------

Shoko

March 31st, 2008

“Hey, earth to Shoko.” Fingers wave in front of the healer’s face. “Are you in there?”

Tapping on the stainless steel is what catches her attention. Irritation convinces her to rip the earbuds out of her ears and set them on the paperwork that is spread out on the table. Half lidded brown eyes meet hers.

“Have you seen Gojo?”

Nanami is standing in his uniform with his blonde hair slicked back. His eyes are slightly sunken in, but it’s not a new feature. Things have been that way for all three of the young sorcerers for a few months now.

“Why do you need him?”

The younger sorcerer shrugs. “I don’t. Yaga-sensei wants to talk to him.”

The pencil that was in her hand hits the table announcing the drop of her stomach. The tone in Nanami’s voice suggests that he knows what Shoko doesn’t want to acknowledge; this isn’t about a mission. Yaga stopped handing assignments to Satoru. He accepted the position as the next principal, so there have been secretaries hired to alert Satoru and Nanami of tasks. This isn’t about a new mission. This has to be in regards to the bounty on Geto’s head.

“To be honest, he wants to speak with you too, but I figured Gojo should be first.”

She tilts her head at him. What could Yaga want to speak to her about? “Why’s that?”

"Your work is more important and I figured you’d be busy.”

She laughs, letting his comment lighten the mood. “Well, we both know what they’re going to talk about. I’m sure Satoru would appreciate it if I went first so he can avoid it.”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“Why are they even trying? He’s not going to do it.” She focuses her attention back on the work in front of her, as if she can deflect the situation that easily. Her hand tugs the white coat tighter around her shoulders. As if Nanami would just walk away and ignore the higher ups’ demands.

“Like they care,” he sighs, taking the open chair in the morgue.

Discomfort arrives in the room as the two sit together in the silence. Maybe if she ignores him, he’ll leave, but she knows the task won’t dissipate. Guilt settles in her gut in the same way that nausea does, finding as much space to take up as it can.

She glances at the steel door, making sure that it’s fully shut before she continues. 

“I haven’t seen him much since early December.” She leaves the part out about the breakdowns he experienced then, but it stings at the back of her throat, threatening to come up in word vomit. Shoko has kept the memory of that day to herself, but the further she gets from it, the fiercer the urge to tell someone about it is. The weight on her chest has collected dust that’s heavier than the burden itself.

The pen twirls in her hand while her reports glare at her. The stress of her studies has caused her eyes to glaze over the words as if they’re in a different language. Anxiety manifests through her tapping foot.

“I thought I saw him in Shibuya on Satoru’s birthday.” She can feel Nanami's eyes on her now.  “I thought it was Geto inside of the konbini. Everyone in that store is lucky that Satoru wasn’t there. He would have snapped. 

“I hurried out of there but I confirmed it wasn’t him. I know if I did see him, I was supposed to report to the higher ups, but I don’t know if I have the strength to do so.”

Once the words are out, she feels little relief, but is grateful for even the slightest release of tension in her shoulders. It’s too late to suck the words back in.

It’s lifetimes before the only other soul in the room speaks. The only noise that fills the mortuary is the scribbling on her schoolwork in front of her.

“I’d be surprised if Geto’s dumb enough to wander into a place where he thinks we could possibly be. Although he can manipulate his residuals, I doubt he would purposefully do that. Out of the two, he’s smarter, and I would place money on the fact that he is probably aware of the plan the higher ups have put together. After what he did, he has to know that they can’t just let him go.”

“I’m sure he does, but even still, we’re all teenagers. Just because we protect the world doesn’t mean that we don’t make ignorant immature choices. He has eliminated everything he knows between his home and jujutsu society. He needs some sort of consistency, even if that’s at the risk of seeing one of us.”

“I don’t think we know him well enough to say so anymore.”

"Why are you and Utahime so insistent on the fact that we ‘don’t know him anymore’?” Her tone is gentle, despite the anger behind the words. It’s unfair that he and Utahime are so detached from the situation. Of course Shoko knows that they weren’t as close to Geto as she and Satoru were, but they spent countless evenings together over those few years. Did they not remember the cobalt summers they spent together?

“You’re both acting like you never knew him. I know that trauma can change a person,” she gestures to her homework. “I’m the one studying it. We’ve got plenty of evidence for it. It’s been almost four months since he left and not a single thing has happened. No more massacres, no war declarations, nothing. I’m not saying that he’s not an enemy; he’s made his choice clear. What I am saying is that you both are playing it off as if the situation is black and white.”

This time, Shoko is looking at him, waiting for a response. His eyes are slightly sunken in and there are visible bags underneath them. The sorcerer is quiet again, seemingly mulling over a response.

“Ieiri, with all due respect, I think you need to take those rose colored glasses off. Whether you like this or not, it is life or death for the people that we are supposed to serve. Jujutsu society is black and white. When we accepted our duties we took on the burden of becoming sorcerers and that’s what our lives are going to be. We either accept the facts or we let them eat us alive because there’s no way out.”

Apparently he was just gathering the courage to say what needed to be said.

“Don’t forget to find Yaga-sensei at some point today. I’m sure I won’t hear the end of it if you don’t.”

The steel door clicks as Nanami closes it behind him. The healer is alone again, but grief stands in the corner, waiting to be addressed.

-------------

April 1st, 2008

“Hey, just checking in to see how you’re doing. I miss your voice. Call me later.”

The phone snaps shut. The early sunset is a bright pink, which reminds her of Utahime. It feels like the universe is teasing her. It’s been more than a couple of days since they have truly talked, which has been driving Shoko’s stress levels up to the ceiling. 

The balcony is too small for her to comfortably pace on, but she makes it work. Her breath is just as visible as smoke in the air would be, had she not given up the activity.

Not only has she been ignoring Nanami, she’s also been avoiding Yaga. Whatever he needed to discuss with her obviously wasn’t that important, because he has yet to summon her himself. If only Utahime would call her back so she could talk her thoughts out, that might help her unwavering anxiety.

Loneliness has continued to grow rapidly like mold, festering in the corners of her dorm. Shoko despises it, knowing that as a sorcerer she’s supposed to be able to control it, but she can’t help the way that it multiplies. She can at least avoid letting it manifest into a curse, but the feelings are present nonetheless.

A knock at the door startles her out of her thoughts. Half expecting it to be Satoru, she tugs the jacket off of her desk chair and throws the door open.

Yaga stands at the other side of the barrier. She tilts her head at him, as it’s not usual for him to show up at her dorm. “Hey, what’s going on?”

He sighs. “I have been needing to talk to you. Are you available right now? I apologize that it’s late. This just can’t wait any longer.”

Her heart sinks. 

Cardiac arrhythmia. My heart isn’t communicating properly.

“Sure, we can talk now.”

The hallway seemingly stretches forever. The door closes behind her with a soft click. Yaga walks out of the dorms, which she notes as strange, because she’s sure that Nanami and Satoru are out of the building today. 

He leads her to the dark communal kitchen. The same place that used to be full of life when all six of the students were together. Back in the days that were bursting at the seams with support and love for each other. Shoko bites her lip as she takes the seat that was once saved for Utahime.

Morsicatio buccarum. I should pick up some gum.

“When was the last time you heard from Satoru?”

Shoko’s heart would have sunk if it had any further down to go. After Utahime missing her calls and Yaga having to come to her door to get her, her morale is below rock bottom. There’s nowhere else to go.

“I think he texted me a photo of himself with his favorite mochi last week sometime? I can’t remember the specifics.” Protecting Satoru is in her nature, even if he’s been doing questionable things.

The principal rubs his forehead, a gesture that’s reserved for the worst of the discussions he has to have.

“Please just tell me.”

“I don’t think Satoru has been keeping up on his missions. We have reason to believe that he’s in contact with Geto.”

The healer’s heart leaps from the bottom of the pits to the top of her throat. Tapping in her foot starts. Satoru? With Geto? And they claim to have evidence?

Another abnormal rhythm.

“No, I don’t think you do.”

He gives her a strange look, probably taken aback by the fact that she’s so confident in refusing what he’s saying. While Shoko is the most unshakable of all of the sorcerers, she’s also the one who’s least likely to disobey, perhaps other than Utahime. Today is a different story.

“Satoru hasn’t been exorcising the curses where we have been sending him. Instead, someone else has.”

A folder that she must have missed noticing when they first arrived, is opened. Its contents are pulled out one by one and laid in a delicate placement on the table.

Geto is in most of them. In the corners are details such as timestamps as well as Kanji that describe when the mission was given to Satoru.

“Are you suggesting that Satoru is telling Geto to exorcise the curses from his missions? Why would he even do that? You cannot be serious. That is absurd. How long has this been going on?”

"Shoko, please keep it together. I need as much information as we can gather. I haven’t brought this to the attention of the higher ups yet because believe it or not, I don’t want to have to put any more pressure on him. It’s obvious how difficult the bounty is for him.”

“So you’re putting more pressure on him by stalking him?” 

“This was initially an accident. One of the secretaries that has been giving him missions noted that he stopped allowing them to take him to any of the assignments. Then it spiraled into him not returning their calls and finally, no reports were being made.”

“How long?” Her tone is stern, demanding.

“The first report was made in late November.”

“No. He’s not causing this.”

“How can you be so sure, Shoko? I know that you guys are friends, but–”

She can’t hold the words in anymore. Similar to the situation with Nanami, the pressure has become too much. This is just another way to ensure that Satoru is safe.

“We had an incident.” Her heart falls into a rhythmic race.

At least the palpitations are over.

She licks her lips before responding, debating how to get all of the necessary information out without completely destroying what is happening. “In December, the day after his birthday.”

----------

December 8th, 2008

Shoko isn’t sure what the hell to do about last night.

The mattress creaks as the healer flops on her back. She stares at the ceiling replaying last night in her mind. The evening had unfolded so fast. Did she push him too hard? Could something have changed if he wasn’t drunk? She is completely unsure if there was any actual sincerity behind his words, but the emotion behind them was enough to terrify her.

On top of Satoru’s problems, she’s also worried about graduation. It’s creeping up on her like a vine. Only another short two months and she’ll be done with her studying here. It’s not like much is going to change; she’s still going to be the medical staff here, but more responsibilities come with the growth. It’s coming so soon and she feels unreasonably anxious about the event. The affirmations repeat in her mind on a constant loop.

I’ve been their healer for three years. I can do this. I’ve been their healer for three years. I can do this. I’ve been –

Though that’s not what her concern is about, is it? She sighs. Trying to bury her stresses in cigarettes and false concerns about her own life isn’t going to help anything. She needs to face the beast. Her worries rest elsewhere, wherever Satoru is.

Shoko is anxious about what the strongest sorcerer is going through. After their conversation after his birthday, she’s been sitting on the edge of sanity, waiting for the next shoe to drop. If only reverse curse technique could do more than just physically heal.

She has to speak with Satoru.

Before his alarm goes off, she rolls out of bed, throwing on the softest sweatshirt she can find. The lettering on it has started to peel off, but it’s her favorite pullover, and on a day like today, she doesn’t want to wear anything else. Her indoor shoes follow.

The walk to Satoru’s room is short and quiet. It’s still dark outside, which she knows is going to piss him off, but the conversation cannot wait. Satoru hardly sleeps nowadays anyways.

To her surprise, the door is unlocked. Knocking seems too professional for their relationship, so she just steps inside.

The sorcerer sits at his desk with his feet raised on top of it. Laying on the right side of his shoes is an open bag of mochi. Its contents are spilled onto the desk, leaving a pile of sugar behind. His blindfold covers his eyes, but she can tell he’s awake. He’s in his uniform now, prepared to head out on his mission as soon as the sun rises.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he mimics.

“Did you get any sleep?” It’s more of a rhetorical question. A way to open the door.

“No.”

“Okay,” she rocks on her toes, glancing around the room. Things have changed since she was last here. Dust has collected on his video games. His bed looks like it hasn’t been touched in a year. “Like what you’ve done with the place. It looks very un-lived in.”

A photo that she doesn’t recognize sits on his desk. In a frozen moment, all six of the students are smiling at the camera. The picture isn’t framed, instead it’s a small 4x6 partially tucked underneath a textbook that she doubts the man has ever touched.

The man leans back in his chair and groans. “What do you want, Shoko?”

“What’s that tone for? You’re being an asshole again.”

“You say that all the time now.”

"Maybe you should check your attitude.” She crosses her arms before leaning on his bed. “How are you feeling?”

He mumbles something about feeling ‘fine’. An eye roll interrupts his one word response. “Did you leave the vulnerable Satoru in Shinjuku last night? I want to talk to him.”

A response doesn’t arrive, so she continues talking. “Care to explain what happened last night? You almost mutilated that entire neighborhood.”

“The stress of the bounty is getting to me,” his voice is hushed. “I panicked. The alcohol set me over the edge.”

“Mmm,” she leaves space for him to continue. The answer is honest enough, but there is more that he’s not sharing.

He seems to sense her leeriness. The pitch in his voice heightens this time. “I don’t know what to do, Shoko. I cannot go after him. I know that I can’t let my feelings get in the way but he hasn’t done anything in months. If they could just let him be until something happens,” he pauses.

“I know that isn’t the best move in case he decides to murder another group of people, but if they would just let me wait until I have more of a reason, maybe it could be different.”

His opinion strikes something within her. It is a relief, in all honesty, that he sees it the way she does. She’s sure her views will provide him with the same. “I understand and empathize with your point of view. I,” she licks her lips as if she’s preparing herself for the next step of the process. “I wish reverse cursed technique worked for trauma. I don’t think this would have happened if he had some sort of support.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if Tengen didn’t need a vessel that they were just going to replace with someone else.”

Shoko looks at her feet that are dangling from Satoru’s bed. Outside the sun is starting to rise, warming the air just enough so she can comfortably be outside. His friend tugs a cigarette from the nearly empty box. “I also prefer to wait to see if something else happens. I don’t think sacrificing a village is a necessary next step, but I wholeheartedly disagree with their desire to send you after him right away.”

“I know it sounds ridiculous, me complaining about being the strongest sorcerer because it comes with obvious advantages, I mean, look at me,” he grins. She snorts.

“Last night was a mistake. I am staying away from alcohol from now on. And about what I said in reference to seeing him again, it’s true, I am terrified of it happening. I feel like they’re watching my every move, waiting to watch me fail, and then they’re going to surpass me and figure out another way to eliminate him. I haven’t seen him, and I really hope that I don’t.”

“What other way is there?” Shoko feels guilty for saying the unacknowledged, but one of them has to.

“I know that there isn’t, but that’s the problem. They’re always going to hold this over my head.”

He’s not wrong, even though she’d really like for him to be. His anxiety is completely valid. They would stoop as low as to send someone to follow him in case it happens.

“You want a smoke? This will be your last chance.” The almost hollow box shakes in an attempt to drag him outside. He appears like he could use some fresh air.

“Are you saying that you’re never going to offer to smoke with me again?”

“Nope. Utahime convinced me to quit.”

Satoru chuckles. “Now that I wasn’t expecting.”

“I listen to my girlfriend. She’s pretty damn smart.”

The pair leans against the balcony, staring into the snow kissed trees. “Did you ever get those photos printed off of that camera you forced Geto to carry around all summer?”

Silence blankets them aside from the crunching snow under their feet. Shoko nudges him after a few minutes of absence. It was a cautious approach, but their stable conversation provided the healer with confidence walking on the thin ice.

“Yeah. Do you think someone got a bad angle of you?”

“Ha! You’re funny. I think I did get a few of Utahime that I’d like to have for my collection, though.” She sighs, dropping her chin into her hand. “I should’ve planned for her to move. Maybe I’ll make her a shrine.”

A genuine laugh coming from her friend warms her chest more than the sweatshirt that is wrapped around her. “Can’t believe that I’m going to be adding to that.” He shakes his head. “If I didn’t just swear off all intoxication, I would absolutely accept a smoke right now. This is ridiculous.”

------------

Shoko’s tired eyes are locked on the photos on the table while she recalls the events from that morning. “Since then, we haven’t spoken much other than intermittent catching up.” She bites her lip before adding the details about him stating that he hopes he never sees Geto again for fear of having to follow through with the bounty.

“Thanks, Shoko.” The photos are packed up before either of them say anything else. “How are you feeling post graduation?”

“Fine. I’ve been doing this for long enough.”

“We are grateful to have you, Shoko. Our sister school is currently researching clans over there. We have people looking into options here, too. I have yet to speak to Satoru, but he’s going to be offered the teaching position soon.”

A snort. “Yeah, that’s going to go over so well.”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have many options. He’s the strongest sorcerer we have and new sorcerers would do well to learn from him.” The files tap the table in between them. “If you see him, please send him my way. Thank you for meeting with me so late. You’re dismissed.”

With a polite nod, Shoko heads back to her room. I really wish I could have a cigarette.

------------

Satoru

April 2nd, 2008

The kitchen is dark when Satoru makes it inside to prepare breakfast for himself. He figures it’s an adult-like thing to do. A simple ceramic bowl is in hands as he pulls them out of the cabinet. When he looks up to close the door, his Digimon bowl catches his eye. Satoru replaced the bowl with a more adult style one shortly after his birthday. It winks at him as he frowns, closing it inside.

Sweet pancakes and fruit come together rather quickly, Satoru realizes. It was pretty easy, too. Maybe he should make himself food more often.

Shoko waltzes into the room while he’s eating. “Did you make enough to share?” She stretches while yawning, shuffling over to the counter.

He looks at the plate in front of him. “Not really, but you can have some. I’ll make more.”

His friend grins and picks up the rest of the food. “I never thought that I would get to try food that you made. If it’s bad, I’ll make my own.”

“Hey, my cooking can’t be bad! I’m good at everything.”

“I can’t just take your word for it,” she speaks with the food in her mouth. “Meh.”

Satoru gapes at her.

“It’s not the worst, but I think Nanami’s cooking is way better.”

"I hink I would agree,” the youngest sorcerer sleepily enters the space. His voice is low and his eyes are half open.

“You haven’t even tried it!” Satoru exclaims. Why are they making this all about him?

The food is gone way quicker than it took to make, so he rethinks his new cooking plans. What a waste of time.

“Where have you been?” Shoko looks at him with a chunk of pancake on her fork that’s pointed to the ceiling. “Haven’t seen you in a while again.”

A chair scrapes the floor as Nanami sits with the two of them. The table looks gigantic in the room. It swallows them whole, leaving the absence of their peers behind.

“Was on a mission in Kashiwa for a few days. Nothing more than a special grade, as per usual.” Another bite. “What about you two? Haven’t seen you guys in a while.”

“Trying to finish school. Hoping to graduate early so I don’t have to suffer here.”

Satoru laughs. “What do you mean? You’re going to be stuck here with me for the rest of time.”

Nanami sighs. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and leave you here to fend for yourself in Tokyo. Kyoto seems like a better option.”

“Oh jeez, Nanami, please don’t leave me here alone with him.”

“You’re going to be the end of me,” his tone is as dull as it always is.

“Yep! Better me than a curse,” Satoru shouts with his mouth full of pancake.

The sun still hasn’t risen by the time the three are finished with their shared meal. They each do their respective dishes. The rotation of chores left with Utahime, as she was the only one who was organized enough to keep the chart working.

Before Satoru exits the room, Nanami stops him. “Hey, did you speak to Yaga-sensei? He was looking for you a few days ago.”

“Uh, no, but I’ll find him at some point today.”

Satoru passes Suguru’s old room on the way to his. He stops, considering going inside, but he hasn’t attempted to since Shoko mentioned that the higher ups had it cleaned out while Satoru was away. The scent of the ex sorcerer is all the white haired adult wants from it, but he figures it’s probably long gone by now.

His door handle is cold to the touch, even though he hadn’t left that long ago. It clicks like normal when he pushes it, and creaks when it opens at the right angle. The smell of incense overwhelms his senses as he enters the room.

Satoru immediately locks the door behind him. His shoulders drop after the click, releasing the facade he held up in front of him.

The desk drawer pops open with a slight tug. Underneath a pile of books that he’s never read sits a small folder. Satoru’s eyes sting as he tugs it out.

In his fingers sit the photos from the camera he begged Suguru to carry around a couple of summers ago. A small, nostalgic smile tugs on his lips as tears begin to fall. Since his birthday, these photos have ripped sobs from his throat too many times to count.

Satoru hates to admit it, but he had let small details of Suguru’s face slip from his memory like their relationship had. The subtle creases underneath his eyes. Where his hairline ends on the base of his neck. The soft curve of his nose and how it contrasts his sharp jawline. He studies the photos now, forcing every memory to resurface so he can redraw them. Satoru refuses to let go of what makes Suguru himself, even if it requires him to put himself through misery to do so.

He realized upon their reunion that even though he spent time etching every minute feature into his memory, the pieces faded like the colors of a sunset inevitably do. The brief time they spent together wasn’t enough to replace the missing parts, but for now, Satoru’s hands are white from the tight grip that he has on them.

In the pile of images Satoru found candid pictures of himself that Suguru had taken without him knowing. When he first stumbled upon them, Satoru sat in shock for longer than a few minutes. The angles of which the photos were taken were so intimate in their own gentle, subtle way. He couldn’t believe that he never noticed Suguru capturing those moments. Who else would the photos of Satoru be for, if not for the photographer?

Regret saturates him, bringing despair with it. Why didn’t he say anything? Only to end up where he is, alone, without Suguru, and nothing to show for it.

For the first time, Satoru notices the dates in the corners of the photos. His teeth grind together when he realizes the differences in Suguru’s smile in the snapshots that are pre and post the mission that Tengen assigned.

Tengen.

The photos are safe, but nothing else on the desk is. Satoru crushes everything in seconds without effort. The strength flows through his fingers instantaneously. No thoughts are necessary.

He’s shaking, standing in the middle of the room that’s now cluttered with debris. Everything that he didn’t hold a personal attachment to is destroyed.

How did I get here?

He glances around, familiarizing himself with his new surroundings.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter.

His chest is heaving. The damage has been completed and Satoru does feel better. The sight of his annihilated items actually relieves him. His laugh is wet. The delight is suffocating.

Satoru tucks the photos back in their hidden spot. He considers setting a few up in his space, but the possibility of being caught makes him too cautious to do so. If he slips up and leaves his door unlocked, all it would take is one person to see them and know that he’s still caught up over Suguru. It’s a secret that Satoru locks away. No one but he will know his weakness.

-----------

Satoru finds Yaga in his office. The floor creaks under his feet as he approaches the principal. His shoulders are rolled back and his chest is broad. The sorcerer is riddled with anxiety, but he tucks it behind a wall of certainty. It would be too much of a disadvantage for anyone to see his worries.

“Satoru. Please, come in. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“I heard. Nanami sent me.” Satoru sits on the couch as if he belongs in this room. He puts one leg on top of the other and crosses his arms, waiting for the principal to continue.

“I had a meeting with the higher ups last week,” he swallows thickly. A discomfort slides into the room. “They are concerned about your dedication to completing your mission to eliminate Geto.”

Satoru doesn’t move a muscle.

"They are adjusting the timeline. Instead of September, they want your mission completed by May.”

If they weren’t cowards, they would have told Satoru to his face. Satoru has to remind himself that Yaga is just a messenger in this situation, and doesn’t deserve any of Satoru’s rage. That doesn’t mean he won’t get at least a taste.

Tension traps his body in shackles. His muscles ache immediately, sensing the burden of what’s about to come. Venom drips from his mouth as he replies. His fingers twitch.

It sure would be easy.

“He hasn’t done a single thing since September. Is this his punishment for them questioning me? I haven’t done anything suspicious.” Satoru tries to keep his tone between solid and demanding, though it tips the scale into the rageful category

“Satoru. I know that you are doing all that you can. I’m sorry.”

The apology falls short of anything that Satoru can actually accept. A simple ‘sorry’ doesn’t justify anything that the higher ups have done. None of their apologies will.

“They can’t do anything without me, Yaga. Why are they acting like they can?” Instead of a question it’s phrased as a statement because they both know he’s right. Satoru’s hands are balled into fists, his nails are threatening to pierce the skin of his palms.

“I don’t know what their plans are, Satoru. I have been told they have proof to back their concerns. Now you know everything that I do.”

With a firm jaw, Satoru abruptly stands. Words are tied to the back of his lungs with a leash made of courtesy. The respect that his parents drilled into him at a young age is what keeps him walking out of the room rather than unclipping the rage that he holds at the back of his throat. He bites his tongue so hard that blood pools into his mouth.

Satoru considers going straight towards the higher ups and eliminating them now. The anger is more than enough fuel to convince him to finish them off.

What would Suguru say?

His footsteps falter. Uncertainty boils in his mind. If Suguru wanted to slaughter the higher ups, he would have years ago while Satoru was gone. If terrorizing jujutsu society was his goal, he would have taken actions other than committing massacre in his village.

What are my goals?

The dorm room door slams hard enough to rattle the desk across the room. Satoru paces in the small area. His teeth grind as he stomps inside.

This isn’t Suguru’s fault. None of this is his fault.

Shoko was right. She’s always right. If Suguru hadn’t gone through the trauma from the mission that Tengen had assigned them, he wouldn’t have been pushed over the edge. He was an offering to the Time Vessel Association. The hands that clapped at the sight of Amani’s corpse are the hands that eagerly pulled him under.

Satoru is gripping the desk as if the wood will stabilize his mind. Staring up at him is a pile of photos that he knows he put away.

His mind wanders back to his actions before he left to find Yaga. He didn’t lock the door behind him. It slipped his mind.

A new sense of fear attacks Satoru. It starts by gripping his veins, pumping through his blood into his heart. The high blood pressure makes his head roll, floating in the river as if it’s lifeless.

They claim to have evidence. Is this what Yaga was talking about? Breaking into my room?

Unless –

Red alarms flash inside of his mind, blinding his vision. His knees buckle, causing the sorcerer to falter.

They could have evidence of the meeting.

The day is a haze aside from Suguru’s touch. He curses himself for letting his emotions get in the way. The first time he let his guard down ended up in this. How could he have been so stupid? So weak?

Dizziness rips the food in his stomach up to his throat. Satoru grabs the nearest trash can and spills the contents inside of it.

Hundreds of needles sting underneath his fingertips. The power is clawing at his skin, demanding for the kennel he holds it in to be unlocked.

The sorcerer picks himself up off of the floor. The forcefulness of his technique is intoxicating. 

His body feels heavy, akin to moving a corpse.

Suguru.

This is what moving Suguru’s corpse is going to feel like.

The photos are swept off of the desk into his jacket pocket. The decision has been made.

I will become as inhuman as I must.

Chapter Text

Shoko

April 2nd, 2008

“Hey! Sorry I missed your call again. Mei is tutoring me this week.” Shoko can sense the annoyance in her girlfriend’s voice. She holds back a giggle. “I foolishly thought that I would be working under someone else, but the principal here is never around. It’s fine. We’ll manage. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she pushes herself away from her desk. “Just working.” The room spins after she kicks the chair she’s on. “You know, cheating to finish my degree wasn’t as problematic as everyone says it would have been.”

Utahime laughs. “I’m not surprised that you did, but you’re smart. You would’ve figured it out.”

“Yeah, I would have, but it wouldn’t have beat spending as much time with you as I did. Now that you’re so far away, I’m even more glad that I took that time to be with you."

“I miss our dates. Can I take you out on one soon?”

Shoko still knows exactly how to get what she wants. “What are you doing tonight? Want to get dinner tonight? I can come to Kyoto.”

Hesitation stalls the phone call. Shoko frowns, pulling the object away from her face. That’s odd. Our service is interrupted.

The chestnut haired woman exits the morgue, hoping to find a better signal. “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah – you hear – something about dinner?”

“Yeah, hang on," she walks a little further from the room that she spends too much time in. "How's that? Let’s get food tonight. Can I come to you?”

“I’d love to treat you.”

A smile reaches Shoko’s lips. “Wonderful.”

They’re in the middle of discussing where to get takeout from when the floor underneath Shoko shifts. She blinks, looking at the structure underneath her feet. What was that?

It stops, so she shrugs. Must have been Satoru training or something.

“I found this adorable restaurant in the city that has the best sake and wine. I can’t wait to take you.”

“That so? Who are you exploring the city with? Mei?” Her tone is teasing and honeyed. Shoko knows that although her girlfriend doesn’t love spending time with her, there aren’t many other options in Kyoto yet.

“Yes,” she groans. “There’s hardly anyone else here. I might visit my family soon. Baseball season just started in the states and you know how competitive my family is with it. They’re having a celebration this weekend. You should totally come.”

Shoko raises an eyebrow as if it could be seen through the phone. This is a huge step for Utahime. “Are you offering to tell them about us?” The question is lighthearted; Shoko doesn’t mind if they do or don’t know about their relationship. She’s sure that they hardly even know about Utahime’s life, so she won’t be offended if she wants to keep their partnership a secret.

The hallway is quiet while she waits for a response. “Did I lose you again?”

“What? Oh, sorry, no. I was just chatting with Mei. She stopped by for a minute. What did you say?”

Shoko figures that now probably isn’t the best time to repeat her question. Maybe the two can discuss it over dinner. “I said that I’d love to go with you. I may have skipped out on learning about my career, but I definitely did focus on studying baseball for this moment.”

She wishes she could see the blush on her girlfriend’s face. Her mind isn’t the right spot for it.

“I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Let’s hope tonight arrives sooner rather than later. I –”

The rumbling of the ground stops her words. It’s urgent now. The entire hallway is rattling as if there’s an earthquake, but this is closer to home. “Babe, something’s happening.”

Words evade her while the panic sets in. What the fuck could be going on?

“What do you mean? Aren’t you at the school?”

Shoko starts running through the halls. Her feet don’t know what direction to take her in, but they can’t stop.

“Yes. I -” she glances down the intersection of hallways, trying to pick the right one to take. “I can hear crashing.” Panting cuts through her speech. “Um.” It feels like her brain is short circuiting. She can hear frantic beeping of the monitors as her heart reaches unrealistic tempos.

Cognitive dysfunction. I can’t think straight.

“Shoko? Do you need me to come? What do you mean?”

“Th-the floor is shaking. The entire building. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Monitors start flashing as the oxygen levels drop. No, no, no. Shoko watches her hands in front of her as they reach for the stethoscope to obtain the heart rate of her patient.

“It’s not like anything I’ve felt before. This isn’t just a curse, Utahime. Something isn’t right.”

“Mei-san, we need to get to Tokyo as soon as possible. No.” The voice becomes clearer again. “Shoko, I’m coming. Please be safe.”

She’s back in reality, frantically searching for the right way to turn. The phone falls once she gets the approval that her partner understands. Where is Satoru? Where is Nanami? She nearly misses the turn, almost sliding into the wall. No other souls are in sight.

How could anyone be missing this?

Loud destruction rings through the walls of the high school. The floors shake before accepting another crash.

It’s coming from below.

Shoko has never had a reason to go down to the Tomb of the Star Corridor. It’s pure luck that she knows where the entrance is. The school is so large that quite a few parts of it haven’t been explored by her. The only places that she needs to know now that she’s done officially studying are the morgue, the offices, and the dorms.

Back when the boys had received their mission to protect Amani Riko and bring her to Tengen to assimilate, Satoru had bragged about everything from the fact that he and Suguru were going to meet them to the two sorcerers getting to see the corridor for themselves. Somewhere no one else needed to go.

In the present moment, Shoko has to calm the panic. Her memory is severed like a limb during an amputation. It’s hopeless until she can find the sutures of reality. Her breathing is fast and forced as the building shakes around her.

I can feel the ground shaking. I can hear the destruction. I can see the cracks in the foundation. I can smell blood. I can taste the cigarette that I’m going to have after this.

She holds onto her senses and after a minute, the recollection is unlocked. Has it really been three years?

The shoes she’s wearing squeak as she tears through the halls.

No, it’s only been two.

The elevator is up ahead. The light is smashed. Glass covers the floor.

If the machine doesn’t work, she’s not sure how she’s going to get down there.

Shoko stares at the choices in front of her. Where the hell are the other two? They’ve got to be down there holding Tengen back. They have been stable for so long. Were there any warning signs?

“Utahime,” she gasps. The woman answered the phone immediately. “Tengen’s unstable. I won’t be any help if I go down there, but I don’t know if Satoru and Nanami are down there either.”

“Where is Yaga? Have you tried contacting him?”

Fuck.

“No,” she paces, staring at the quivering elevator in front of her. “I should have done that. I just called you first.”

“You can’t be the only one feeling that. By now, Gojo has to be down there. I think you should stay where you are, but call Yaga. Mei and I are on the way, but we won’t be there for a couple of hours at the most. Please, stay safe.” Perhaps Mei would have missed the anxiety in her voice, but Shoko knows her girlfriend too well. 

Yaga’s number is punched in next. Shoko questions why she doesn’t have him on speed dial. He doesn’t answer, but she leaves a quick message in case. He probably already knows about the situation, given the severity of the destruction underneath the barriers of the school.

The dial of the phone sounds similar to the beeping of the monitors in the hospital. It’s eerie.

The scent of blood overwhelms her nostrils once again. It’s nauseating, how strong the odor is. Surprise and concern swirl inside of her chest. Her duties as a healer overpower her fear. This is what she signed up for. She can’t stop her feet from stepping onto the elevator.

-------------

Satoru

How long has it been since Satoru has felt this alive?

The sorcerer is levitating inside Tengen’s chambers with a large smile on his face. So far, he’s destroyed half of the structure that the being resides inside of. He’s taking his time with the task, indulging in every minute of the battle he provoked as if it’s the last bite of mochi he’ll ever have. The taste of an inevitable victory is sweeter than daifuku.

He doesn’t quite remember how he got down here. It’s a bit of a surprise that he accomplished the trail without demolishing parts of the school on the way. Then again, maybe he did and he just can’t remember.

This is what he should have done two years ago after finishing Fushiguro off.

The assailant lifts his hand, a weapon loading up for another strike. Blue rays crush the pillars that hold the ceiling up. They land with a satisfying crash. Following the sound, Satoru laughs. A cry of victory echoes through the rumbling chambers.

The opponent hasn’t made any moves to fight back yet. Satoru is salivating. He cannot wait for the attempt of a counterattack. The gratification of Tengen losing is the revenge he’s been pining for. 

“Come on you asshole. Fight me. Why don’t you strike the honored one?” The words are spat out as if they are disgusting, as if he’s trying to rid the taste out of his mouth.

“Satoru?”

The syllables are so weak that if not for his hyperaware state, Satoru wouldn’t have caught them. His brain stutters, telling him that he’s probably just hallucinating the words. He needs to focus on the combat at hand.

Satoru bares his teeth at the empty chamber where his target resides. Sharp canines protrude from his mouth as he gnashes his teeth. He reaches for the threads again, this time the color of red. The debris magnetizes to him. The sorcerer’s hands move in a circle and the cloud of materials listens, launching itself straight into the temple, through the barrier that he can’t yet cross. Once he goes in, there isn’t a way out, even for him.

“Gojo.”

His burning eyes twitch. He slowly turns against his will.

Shoko stands in the corridor. Her eyes are wide with fear as she trembles.

-----------

Shoko

She hears the laughter echoing through the halls before she reaches the opening. Her stomach clenches tighter with each step she takes, akin to someone ringing moisture out of a towel. The cracks of demolition shields the sound of her shuffling through the corridor.

Step one: Awareness

Shoko knows how dangerous this is. She’s aware of the consequences. If the events of last December taught her anything, it’s not to cross Satoru when he’s in this state, but yet again, her feet won’t stop. As a healer and his best friend, shielding him is carved into her bones. It comes as naturally as breathing does.

“Satoru?”

The name is whispered breathlessly to the sorcerer who’s floating. His back is to Shoko, but his head is leaning backwards, pointing to the ceiling. He’s surrounded with floating debris. The clothes he’s wearing are tattered and soaked in blood, although Shoko’s unsure as to why. Satoru should be free of any wounds.

She swallows, though her mouth is dry. Her body is in complete shock. She’s been trained to handle this, but her body won’t obey.

Step two: Acceptance

Shoko knows she’s the only one who can intervene.

“Gojo.”

The sorcerer’s striking azure eyes are on her now. The healer freezes. Her hands are shaking, but she pushes forward. Someone has to stop this.

Step three: Action

“You need to stop this.”

In seconds, the sorcerer is on the floor. His eyes close. His mouth is pulled taut in a wicked smile. Shoko grips bravery in a clenched fist. Her mouth is in a firm line. Her breathing is as steady as she can manage.

Utahime pops into her mind. It’s a memory of one of the many times that her girlfriend had complained to her about how she’s dreading dealing with children.

They are sitting on the beach together on a humid summer day. The couple is both laying on the hot sand, sharing a bottle of sake that they snuck onto the ocean shore. Waves are gently crashing into the sand. Every few ripple touches the girls' feet, causing them to shriek and pull their legs in. 

“You know, I think I have a decent idea of how to manage kids. While I don’t look forward to it, I’m gifted with patience for them.”

Shoko stifles a giggle. “Yeah, but you don’t have patience for Gojo.”

A glare is thrown at her. “You know that’s different. He’s a child who will never grow up. Too stubborn and idiotic.”

The younger sorcerer laughs, throwing her hair behind her shoulder. “At least you won’t have to deal with him here soon. Got any tips for me?”

“Don’t back down. That’s all the advice I’ve got."

The bottle of sake touches Utahime’s lips before Shoko’s lips do next. It’s a soft, quick kiss, but she takes opportunities where she can. "I'm glad we're here together for now. I think you've helped me deal with him more than you know."

Utahime laughs, gently pushing Shoko. "Ah, you'll miss me, but you know how to keep him in line."

“Satoru,” tears sting. Her throat is swollen with regret. “I don’t know what’s going on, but you need to calm down.”

His eyes dull. The release of his shield relieves Shoko, but she doesn’t move towards him. She won’t advance until he’s completely unarmed.

The sorcerer takes a wobbly step towards her. In the same way he arrived in the morgue after Amani’s death, he’s approaching her now.

Shoko blinks, and it’s over.

Satoru is suddenly on the floor of the chambers. His image stutters. He’s on his hands and knees, coughing up blood. She blinks again. He’s summoning a weapon. It’s purple.

“Stop! Satoru!” She runs towards him, but one flick of his hand launches her back. The healer lands on her side, but the force keeps her going. Hair is in her face, blocking her view of the battle in front of her. Her limp body collides with the wall behind her in the way that a dropped ragdoll would slam into the floor.

What was I going to do anyways?

A thud of a body reverberates and then silence.

Feeling returns in waves of pulsing aches. The fall wasn’t as harsh as it should have been, given the concrete that she landed on. In front of her she can see the white haired man laying on his side. His back is to her, but she can see the slow rise and fall of his chest. The pillars that he annihilated are already replaced with new structures.

Shoko’s head is floating.

I have to fix this before anyone else finds out.

Her ears ring.

I need to help Satoru.

Her hands are covered in blue bruises that scream in agony while they lift her to her feet. She accidentally steps on the tail of the white coat she has on, which causes her to stumble. The momentum carries her over to her friend. She can’t stop herself from tripping and falling onto his body.

“Satoru,” she cries. The name comes out in barely more than a murmur. “Hey, Satoru.”

The sorcerer is unresponsive, but his eyes are fluttering like he’s in a deep sleep. Tears fall onto his face as she rocks him in her lap. “God, Satoru, are you okay? What the hell happened?”

His white hair is stained with sweat and blood. A few cuts grace his cheeks. He looks almost angelic.

The fog leaves her mind like smoke dissipating into the air. It takes a few minutes but she slowly clicks the puzzle pieces together.

Tengen isn’t anywhere to be seen. Nanami isn’t here. Yaga isn’t here. 

The healer blinks, deciphering the secrets of the situation that unfolded here.

Satoru is the only one here.

Was he trying to eliminate Tengen?

Her sore palms release the grip on his shoulders. As the information processes, she backs away from him slowly. She sets his body back on the floor, scooting backwards. Her gaze is locked on him as if he’s going to wake up and attack her next.

I don’t understand. Why did he do this?

Her phone ringing shatters the silence along with her denial of the situation.

Satoru provoked this.

“Hello?” The healer tries to keep her voice steady. She didn’t want to answer the call, but her devotion to her friend prevailed. It’s a bond that she isn’t sure how to cut through.

She hasn’t yet come up with a plan and isn’t sure how fast she can think on her feet after this. The opportunity to flee presents itself as the only way out. Shoko abandons the man who tried to kill Tengen while she’s on the phone. Maybe her thoughts will become clearer when she reaches less cloudy air.

“Shoko, are you okay? I haven’t heard from you and I can’t get a hold of Yaga. Mei and I are almost there,” her girlfriend’s voice is wavering. “I’m relieved to hear your voice.”

“I’m good. I,” she glances behind her at the body in the sea of destruction. The space between the two seems vaster than it is. It’s stretched out like a cloth over a surgery table.  “I’m totally fine. No one is hurt. We’ve got it under control.” Her fingers absentmindedly reach for a box of cigarettes that isn’t there.

“Okay. I’m going to try Yaga again. Mei said to just be safe and help whoever you need to.”

“Already planning on it. See you soon.”

The phone shuts and she runs a hand through her hair. The pain stings, causing her to grimace slightly. Indecision gnaws at her legs.

Shoko knows that any of the sorcerers could be on their way down here to check on what the hell was just happening. Biting her lip, she looks at the white haired sorcerer and down the hallway that the others would be arriving from. He’s still unconscious; whatever Tengen did was enough to severely damage him, which was probably for the best. Reverse cursed technique should be within his reach, even though he’s unaware of it.

“I’ll be back for you,” she tells him. She gives him one last glance before heading upstairs to come up with a story for the others. How she’s going to work around this one, she isn’t sure. Perhaps she’ll continue with the theory that Tengen was unstable and Satoru went down to control him. At least until she can address what the hell is going on with him.

Abruptly, the remark that the strongest sorcerer had made a few months ago is offered to the forefront of her mind like a report given to the higher ups.

“This wouldn’t have happened if Tengen didn’t need a vessel that they were just going to replace with someone else.”

A simple comment that at the time, she’d just skipped over, as if it were nothing more than a simple ‘hello’. It held no weight. There was nothing to reflect on. How foolish of her to have not given it any thought.

The betrayal throbs more than the discomfort of the wounds on her body. The physical wounds can be stitched together, but the treachery is a different story.

-----------

Shoko was dumb to think that he’d be there when she returned. The aftermath of her and Utahime both calling Yaga to explain the situation is what caused her to miss the opportunity to return to Satoru before his awareness returned. Shoko spent the entire conversation on edge, expecting for everyone to see through her lies.

The healer lied to the group, saying that Satoru was recovering his dorm, that’s why he wasn’t around yet. The cover was bitter like alcohol, it came up with a burn. Torn between honesty and keeping Satoru’s secret, she decided to keep her loyalty. Let Satoru explain himself. She’s covered for him enough.

When she returns to Tengen’s chambers, everything is what she assumes normal is for the space. The remnants of the rumination are gone, as if no battle took place here. Shoko’s throat is drier than Japan’s air in January.

If the sorcerer’s goal is what Shoko fears, he’s not going to be anywhere within her reach today.

-----------

Suguru

April 2nd, 2008

“Girls! Dinner is finished!” The woman’s voice calls from the dining room.

Suguru is setting the table for his family as the twins rush into the kitchen. He invited Manami and Toshihisa over for a meal, fully anticipating cooking for them, but Manami brought groceries for sushi, onigiri, miso soup, and rice. She’s a pretty decent cook. Suguru gladly takes a back seat on the responsibility. It’s not that he minds, but he appreciates the help.

“I’ll make dinner next time,” Toshihisa claims, taking a seat. “I make a mean ramen. Do you guys like spice? Ah, I’m sure you do.” He dismisses his question as if it was a grade four curse floating in the air.

Mimiko and Nanako climb onto their respective seats, one on each side of Suguru. In practical unison, the two thank Manami for cooking and say their “itadakimasu’s” before digging into the dinner. Suguru beams like a proud parent. The two are learning so well.

The steam coming off of the soup clouds the air. Suguru glances at the food before realizing he forgot to set out glasses of water. “Excuse me,” he stands to gather drinks for the group.

“Suguru, what are your plans for tomorrow? I have some work to get done at home, but I’d love to work with the girls again,” Manami calls from the dining table. 

Suguru bows his head in gratuity as he sets water in front of his guests and children. That would be great. I’m sure the girls would love to spend time with you.”

With a full mouth, Nanako exclaims, “Yes, please, I love our girls days!”

“Use your manners, Nanako-san,” Suguru gently corrects. “We aren’t monkeys.”

Clinks of empty dishes announce the end of the meal. The host quickly cleans up while the kids go play in the living room. As the dark haired curse user is finishing up chores, Manami and Toshihisa hang in the room discussing their future plans.

“Suguru, Toshihisa and I have been talking about how to move forward towards our goal. We don’t want to put the girls in danger, but we still need to consider what steps we can take to get there.”

The faucet turns on and off while Suguru debates his options.

Tashihisa speaks first. “I think we should focus on training the twins as much as possible right now. We need a better plan for future endeavors, though. As we stand right now, we can’t eradicate humanity by ourselves, but there definitely have to be more curse users who share our conviction out there.”

“Absolutely,” Suguru agrees. “We are making progress. The more curses I obtain, the more inventory I stack up. We have to make sure we aren’t causing rifts in jujutsu society for our safety, though. I’m more than happy to pursue ulterior options in order to keep this place afloat. I don’t know how much longer the bills are going to be paid.”

“Precisely why we wanted to talk now. What do you think about running an underground business? I can handle the secretary portion of it. You just need to worry about making headway on our goals, and Tashihisa can work with the twins.”

Suguru smiles. “That sounds perfect.”

“Great. Leave it to me.”

The conversation dies down after a bottle of sake and a card game is shared between the three adults. Playing a game where everyone has a fair chance of winning is something Suguru honestly missed. He says his goodbyes to the two guests, thanking them once again for coming.

“I’ll be here in the morning to gather those two, okay?”

“Thank you Manami. I appreciate your help.”

“Anytime, Suguru.”

The two wave goodbye to the girls before departing for the night. Suguru tucks the girls in bed shortly after, although they try to bargain for another hour of play time.

“You’ll have plenty of time to play tomorrow with Manami, okay?”

“Yes, Geto-sama,” the disappointment shines through their voices. Suguru rubs their heads before closing the door.

“Goodnight you two.”

Midnight strikes when a knock at the door pulls Suguru off of the couch. He tugs his phone out of his pocket, tilting his head at the time. Wouldn’t Manami or Tashihisa have texted?

Unfortunately for his nerves, windows don’t surround the door, but they don’t realize that Suguru is the strongest curse user in Japan. Threats to him don’t exist.

Suguru sighs, pulling a cigarette out of the box. If he’s going to have to murder a human right now, he at least wants to kill two birds with one stone. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy the task, but a cigarette is the best way to finish it.

The lock falls and taps against the door. It clicks and slowly creaks open. The warm spring air immediately rushes inside the building.

The curse user has to blink a couple of times to make sure he’s not dreaming. A white haired man is leaning against the wall of the building in the alley. He’s partially covered in blood and his eyes are half open. The light blue hue is unmistakable. 

“Satoru?”

Chapter Text

Suguru

April 3rd, 2008 12:01am

“Satoru?”

The sorcerer is soaking wet, wearing the expression of a kitten who was left out in the rain. Streetlights reflect in the puddles as his feet. His body is hardly illuminated, but Suguru can tell he’s as pale as a ghost. The thunderstorm popped up randomly, as it occasionally will during the spring in Japan. Obviously it took the sorcerer by surprise, too.

“Satoru, what the hell are you doing here?” 

Shock pins the curse user’s sandals to the floor of the building. The cigarette sits still in his hand until he forgets that it’s there. His fingers burn from the ash, pulling Suguru back into his body. He seethes, tapping the excess off, watching it crumble to the concrete in front of his feet.

Before Suguru can ask another question, the white haired adult collapses into his arms. It’s as if he’s simply a doll whose puppeteer just released the hold of the strings. Satoru mumbles something unintelligible as a response while his head is rolling on Suguru’s shoulder, mouth grazing his neck. The burn on Suguru’s hand is nothing compared to the fire in his chest that hasn’t flickered once even after the past six months.

Mumbling curses, Suguru quickly glances down the street. He fears being watched, but nothing can be done right now if they are. The two of them are the most dangerous people in Japan, so there isn’t much to worry about. 

He bites his tongue and carries the sorcerer inside. His head spins with questions, but he knows he won’t be getting any answers tonight. The only comprehensible sounds escaping his guest’s lips are ‘Suguru’ and ‘trying’.

The body the curse user is carrying is practically limp; his hands and head dangle as if he is lifeless. An object clatters to the hard floor, but Suguru’s hands are full so he can’t reach it. Instead, he gently kicks it across the floor where it stops at a wall. He’ll get it later.

Once he finds a spot for Satoru, he gently removes the wet shoes from his feet. The sorcerer’s white hair is saturated with rain, but there’s a pink tinge to it that isn’t normally there. Suguru makes a note to talk to the man about it when he’s stable.

“Satoru,” he purrs as the nerves cause his stomach to flip. “I’ll be right back, okay?” The dark haired man carefully inspects the rest of his soulmate’s face. A couple of wounds are etched into his cheeks, but they’re so delicate that a curse couldn’t have performed those. More questions swarm the curse user.

How did he find me? Why did he come here? This isn’t the place he would have come to after defeating a special grade. Satoru wouldn’t have lost to a special grade. And where are those wounds from?

Satoru is paler than a ghost. Blue veins are the only sign of life, although it seems to be barely dangling in from a string. Suguru has never seen anything as concerning as this.

The inspection morphs into a study of the structure of Satoru’s face. Suguru’s eyes trace his jawline, the subtle shape of his undereye, his delicate, fluffy eyelashes. His perfectly balanced skin, free of any natural blemishes. His soft, plush lips that Suguru can still taste.

“Suguru.” His name comes from the man’s lips, so tender that it makes his heart melt. As if the curse user is someone to be honored with a gentle touch. As if the name is more important than the oxygen that Satoru needs. It stems from somewhere of a primal desire, an instinctual place.

“Yes, Satoru?” He searches his face for a reaction, hoping for any semblance of color to reach the man’s faded face. Suguru kneels, taking the sorcerer’s exposed hand that was resting on the couch.

The man appears completely intoxicated, but not from alcohol. This is something different. It causes concern to rise from a deep cavity that Suguru hasn’t dug the key up to for anyone but Satoru.

“Is this real?”

“Yes, Satoru.” A squeeze in his hand.

The curse user files through his memories, desperately searching for a diagnosis to the symptoms that his soulmate is experiencing. The folders that he’s kept of his moments with Satoru have been carefully archived with gloved hands, as if the fingerprints of Suguru’s fingers after his betrayal of Jujutsu Tech would stain the recollections. They haven’t been touched since that day. He thought if they stayed stored away in a place he couldn’t reach without courage and a key, that he wouldn’t have to think about his past.

Today the bravery evades him, but the key is all he needs. Answers are more important to Satoru’s safety.

Selfishly, Suguru wants to ask if Satoru plans to stay. He wonders if this is just a fluke moment. He knows that the higher ups are going to force Satoru to go after him at some point and whether he obeys or not, is strictly up to him. The morning sun could rip the pair apart again, turning their dreams into dust as if they were nothing but nightmares.

If it does, he’ll understand. Suguru will try to comprehend the reasoning behind the choice. This is the world that they live in. Although there is an obvious tie between the two, the curse user will numb the ache by savoring the hours of darkness tonight. He opened the door knowing that the evening was going to end at some point. The sun promises to rise eventually. If he suffers in the morning, it’s his own fault for letting the sorcerer inside.

The door to his room creaks open with a gentle push from a sandal covered foot. The bubbling of an aquarium is the only noise cutting through the space aside from Satoru’s soft breathing. The room is completely dark aside from the led light in the glass tank. He lays the sorcerer onto his bed before returning to shutting them inside.

“Suguru.”

At the sound of his name, the curse user turns around to face the person who called him.

“Please don’t leave.”

The strings that connect his heart to Satoru’s tug, taut with loyalty. There’s not much the man can do now. Obedience may be the trait of a dog, but it comes from a place of love.

“Do you need anything, Satoru?” The curse user wanders to his closet, tugging off clean clothes to offer the man who is supposed to be his enemy.

This isn’t the way that Satoru appeared when he was drunk. The man isn’t pleading for sweets. He isn’t whining about how the room is spinning. His words are slurring, but not in the way he used to. However, when Suguru returns to the edge of the bed, the sorcerer’s arms are outstretched, reaching for him in the same way he did back during their days together. Suguru hands him the clothes which he accepts, but he grips Suguru’s wrist as well. Wide cerulean eyes peer up at him. A film covers his eyes, making them slightly muted.

Now that the guest is more aware, the question rises in Suguru’s throat like bile. What are you doing here?

He can’t. The risk isn’t worth the reward. If he digs his grave, he’s going to have to lie in it. Tonight, he needs to hold onto the few hours of peace they’ll share before time evades them as if their souls aren’t meant to be together forever.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Suguru gives the sorcerer some space to change. He leaves the room, albeit reluctantly, as he’d rather not miss out on even a few minutes of shared time together. The curse user quickly brushes his teeth and hair, before knocking on the door to his bedroom.

“Satoru?” He gently pushes the door open to find the sorcerer sitting on his bed. His knees are drawn to his chest and he’s rocking slightly. Soft, messy white hair dusts his eyes that are glued to Suguru. The clothes he was given swallow him, they’re so big that his collarbones are exposed.

He approaches the man cautiously, as if this is merely a facade that’s going to disappear in front of him at any moment. The queen mattress creaks underneath him. It’s noticeably smaller now that Suguru’s not the only one taking space in the bed.

Words want to come out, but he isn’t sure what to say. The white haired man seems distant, as if he’s on another plane of existence. Suguru’s hands ache with desire to pull him back to reality. He isn’t sure where the line is now. The confidence he held last month at their reunion has fled, leaving an empty space where indecision now rests.

After what must be an hour of anxious silence, Suguru gently places a hand on the sorcerer’s knee. “Hey,” his voice is tender. “Satoru, what’s going on?”

Glossy eyes below thick white eyelashes meet his gaze. His pupils are trembling, searching back and forth between Suguru’s eyes. Satoru’s mouth is placed on arms that hold his legs to his chest. The rocking doesn’t stop, but it slows a little.

“Is it okay if I touch you?”

A blink is the only response he gets. He scoots closer, but not so much as to invade his guest’s space. The absence of approval or denial doesn’t bother him. If anyone understands what this feeling is like, it’s Geto Suguru.

The pair sit inches apart. As people who are part of jujutsu society, they should be aware of the fragility of time and the raw beast of mortality. Yet they sit in silence, letting the tension build between their bodies as they wait for the sun to rise. Sometimes, just being together is enough, Suguru supposes. After so long apart, he chooses to be grateful for what is offered to him.

------------

Satoru

Satoru’s white fluffy eyelashes brush together softly as they try to block the sunlight from his eyes. His body is unnaturally sore, but the aching doesn’t stem from physical pain. This is more of a hum that comes from his nerves, from his core, that becomes worse with every breath he takes.

The sorcerer instantly sits up in the bed. This isn’t his room. Here it smells like amber, smoke, and a hint of incense. Suguru must be here.

Panic rises from his chest as he looks for a way out. A trapped animal who’s eaten the bait, but now can’t find an escape.

He stumbles off of the mattress, causing a loud thud. Cursing under his breath the white haired man quickly tears off Suguru’s clothes, changing back into his own before he runs to the door handle.

How the fuck did I get here? They’re going to find me and make me kill him. Kill Suguru. No.

The room spins. The fear worsens. Perhaps if Satoru had any food in his stomach, he would have vomited from the dizziness. Fortunately for Suguru, he can’t get the bile to abandon his body.

He’s not in Suguru’s building, he’s in Suguru’s dorm. The smell of popcorn wafts through his nostrils. The host’s legs are underneath Satoru’s head. Suguru is smiling, talking to Haibara about something unintelligible. The Nintendo that Satoru bought himself is held above him, but his hands are miles away. The fingertips that control all of his power are so far out of his reach. 

Maybe it’s finally broken, his strength, his abilities. 

Would that be the worst thing ever? Losing his strength and becoming human? Who is Gojo Satoru without that?

A hand brushes through his thick short hair. Blood rushes to his cheeks. The dark haired sorcerer is gazing down upon him. His eyes are creased from a sweet smile.

“Your powers are still present. You’re trying, but you haven’t escaped yet. You’re so close, Satoru.”

So close to what? 

Satoru feels like a prisoner breaking out of jail when he rips the door open. It’s ironic, because with Suguru is the place he would rather be, but he knows that as soon as anyone from Jujutsu Tech finds out about this, he’s going to be aimed at Suguru as if he’s a loaded gun before he can think of a different plan. If he got here once, he can figure out how to get here again but right now, he needs to get back to the school.

The hallway is tight and dark. It suffocates Satoru. He’s gasping for air, glancing left and right, trying to decide which way to go. The clattering of dishes convinces him to take a right. Suguru must be down there. Biting his lip, he holds back tears as he rushes to the curse user.

I hope he understands.

Satoru can’t comprehend the horror. He covers his mouth as the sobs erupt. His body leans against the wall while he trembles against it. Why does this keep happening to him?

How long is he going to let this continue? 

Gojo Satoru was given the world when he was born. It’s held at his fingertips yet no one knows but those who keep him on a tight leash. He has all of the capability of imploding the universe but he never has. He’s always obeyed.

Sometimes people are born with knowledge and other times they must stumble their way through life and learn. For Gojo Satoru, he’s always known. Mistakes don’t evade him, he learned that after Suguru left, but the man has never had to trip through the forests of failure to make it to the path unless it’s for something akin to love.

The only time that he ever has to question himself is when it comes to Suguru. But still, the promise to keep the world safe at his own demise is something he can’t bring himself to let go of.

Shock resides on the curse user’s face when Satoru abruptly stops at the edge of the hallway. He is standing at the stove, cooking ogura toast when the sorcerer slams on the brakes. His hair is tumbling over his broad shoulders. Not a single strand is out of place. Suguru is wearing black linen pants and a baggy white shirt that makes Satoru’s mouth go dry. Is he sure he has to go?

Satoru doesn’t know what today is going to bring. He doesn’t know if the higher ups are going to find out about his reunion with his soulmate. He isn’t sure if anyone followed him here last night. What the sorcerer does know, however, is that he's going to die twice. Gojo is going to die when his body does, but Satoru is going to die when his soul does. When he kills Suguru.

These aren't his dreams that are absent of melancholy. This isn’t the apartment he envisioned for the two of them. No friends will arrive here with insatiable appetites, waiting to share breakfast at their communal table. There aren’t any teenagers playing card games, threatening each other for cheating. Friendly competitions won’t turn into pointless arguements. Instead, here, stands the person Satoru has spent the past six and a half months running from, cooking breakfast for the two of them. The sorcerer would love to stay, but he’s forgotten what Suguru’s cooking tastes like.

“Satoru? Are you okay?”

His shaking breath is more than enough than the words he can’t reach, but the man he is supposed to hate can see through his hesitation. This isn’t the trigger that Satoru wants to pull, but he has to choose one and this isn’t going to murder either of them. They’ll both be able to make it out of here alive.

“I’m sorry, I can’t be here. I,” he glances down to a door that’s now visible. His feet are pointed to the exit, but his heart reaches for his lover. “I have to go.”

Their entangled roots stretch over the tiles, connecting one person to the other. Leaves tumble to the floor between them.

Suguru nods, but his eyes don’t meet the other man’s. Instead, the violet gaze is trapped to the axe that sits in the sorcerer’s hands. Satoru swallows the uncertainty before swinging. He doesn’t have a choice.

A small, sorrowful smile touches the host’s lips. Satoru swears he can probably hear the rapid beating of his heart that speeds up with every move of the axe. Redness graces his cheeks, stemming from anxiety rather than heartfelt emotion. “I’m sorry.”

The voice is weak, but audible. The sorcerer doesn’t offer time to be acknowledged, for he knows that if he waits, if he opens the door for the curse user to respond, the devotion that ties them together will cause him to stutter and he will stay. If the man who holds his soul mutters a single word, a breath of question, the world is going to combust underneath Satoru’s fingertips.

His shoes slip on easily, though the cut of the branches at his feet are jagged. The door creaks behind him as he gives the interior of Suguru’s space one last glance. He hopes that the curse user is able to take care of the pieces he is leaving behind.

Outside the sun burns his eyes. In his haste, he forgot to tie his blindfold over his eyes. The sorcerer takes wide strides towards the train station while he pats himself down, looking for the cloth. Before finding the bandages, his fingers bump into a pile of papers stuffed into his pocket. Confusion takes the place of fear, bumping around in the sorcerer’s skull as if the questions were ping pong balls.

He tugs the pile out of his pocket and in the process, red stains catch his eye, as ominous as the cloudless sky above him.

What the hell happened yesterday?

The photos are placed back into his pocket. They taunt him, concealing their secrets behind laughing teenagers and candid snapshots. If only they could talk. Satoru thinks it might be better if he could talk to them instead. Maybe they would listen to his cautions and evade the path he’s currently trudging through.

The streets are swarming with people, typical for a mid-morning Friday in the outskirts of Tokyo. In Satoru’s favor, he is able to blend in more than usual, since there are so many humans in the city. Staying somewhere in the city crosses the sorcerer’s mind. If he can evade the school for a few days, the time could be spent coming up with a plan. There has to be a curse around here somewhere. It’s spring, afterall, which is when they start sprouting in preparation for the summer blues.

Once the fear resides, the pounding torment is back with a vengeance, as if it’s a curse multiplying to increase in grades. Ink occasionally pools into Satoru’s vision, causing him to shift more with every bump of the train. The cold steel under his palm grips him to reality, but if not for the firm touch, he would have slipped into a different dimension.

The train station looms above Satoru, shadowing him in a way he’s never felt before. He decides that if he’s not going to go back to the school, he must at least get far from the curse user’s house. The more miles that pass underneath the wheels of the train, the less people that the car contains. Though there are plenty of available seats, Satoru doesn’t give his legs relief from standing. He needs to hold onto something tactile.

With his free hand, he pulls his phone out. Dead. Of course. He sighs. Every action in this simulation is more confusing than the last. His faith in figuring out the mystery is dwindling, being poured in the bin as if he used the wrong ingredients for the recipe. Starting over isn’t the hard part. It’s gathering the correct materials in the right pattern.

------------

Shoko

When Shoko first met Satoru, he was precisely what she expected him to be. Though her knowledge of the Gojo clan was limited, Gojo Satoru was the person she knew the most about. He stood out in jujutsu society from day one. Her family whispered about him behind closed doors as if the clan would have heard their hushed voices. She always knew he was going to shift the dynamic of the sorcery world. Though this isn’t quite the way she expected.

Lightning flashes illuminating the building in front of her in the way she thinks it would if she was living in a horror movie. 

Maybe she is.

After some snooping in Yaga’s office, she had found evidence of what was to be assumed as Geto’s current home. It didn’t surprise her that they had more information on him than the little Yaga had shared with her. Of course Jujutsu High had tabs on him. They did promise to have a way to eradicate Geto if Satoru wouldn’t.

The discomfort of knowing that he was withholding information from her made her organs churn. Although it’s not shocking that he would do so, it still rattled her bones when she unveiled it. Shaking off the goosebumps, she quickly snapped a photo and returned the documents to their original state.

She spent the entire train ride looking over her shoulder. The feeling that she was being watched haunted her, like the ghost of the friendship she used to have. When the woman wasn’t looking at her surroundings, she was staring at the photo on her phone, studying every detail in case something stuck out to her.

Hope plagued her as well. Perhaps the white haired sorcerer would be on the train she was in. Maybe she’d pass him on the street. The man is so recognizable that it wouldn’t be hard to spot him, especially in the rain. He’d be the only one without an umbrella.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t hiding in plain sight.

Shoko shakes her umbrella off outside the Time Vessel Association building. She showed up in the absence of a plan, figuring she will just see how it goes. In the last twelve hours, she had managed to deescalate the situation, convincing everyone that Satoru was probably just releasing some steam, treating himself to his favorite desserts after going through what he had. Time is running out though. It is only a matter of time before Tengen releases the information about the situation that Shoko is desperate to hide.

Shoko can’t think of anywhere else he could possibly go. Satoru despises going home to his family. The possibility of that is considerably lower than the chance of him being here, right? Her head thrums with unanswered questions.

The phone in her hand has been useless as it’s done nothing but go to his voicemail. 

Uncharacteristically, she doesn’t know what to do. What she does know is that Gojo didn’t seem to have a plan. Eliminating Tengen was something he should have been able to do if he was mentally stable.

She shrugs to no one but herself in response to her brain when it says you don’t have a plan either. Unfortunately, trust still takes up space in the air around her. Suguru shouldn’t pose a threat to her; she is a sorcerer and so far, he hasn’t expressed any hatred for them. Still, a shiver makes its way up her spine. She shudders, lying to herself that it was due to the rain.

Am I really doing this?

The sun is not visible through the tons of rain falling down onto the earth. Only street lamps radiate off of the ground, exposing the dark clouds in the sky. A cold, dreary day felt fitting for the occasion. Tapping the ashes of a cigarette, she gets the courage up and knocks.

After a few minutes of silence, she knocks again, harder this time. The loud reverberation makes her jump. Not because of the potential of being rude to him, but the surprise of the echo. Offending a mass murderer isn’t going to keep her up at night.

Unfortunately, her action doesn’t break the door down. Frustrated, she turns around, facing the alley. It tempts her by offering a quick stroll back to her comfortable bed, her girlfriend’s arms, and a warm shower. As if in a trance, she takes a step, considering that coming back later would be fine. The longer she goes without knowing where Gojo is, the longer she will be able to live in bliss.

The door slowly creaks open, stopping her midstep. She cautiously turns around, trying to seem nonchalant, but she really doesn’t want to be caught off guard by Geto. Through a small crack in the door, violet eyes gaze down upon her.

The two stare at each other for too long.

“You’re seriously not going to let me in?” she remarks, annoyance stitched into her voice. “It’s fucking wet out here, dumbass.”

“Sorry, I just, uh, wasn’t expecting you,” the dark haired man mutters. Reluctantly, he gives in, inviting her inside. Stomping the moisture off of her shoulders, she follows.

The healer skips the polite gesture of removing her shoes. This isn’t a space where she feels comfortable enough to do so. The umbrella is left by the door because that’s something she can leave behind if necessary.

She keeps her eyes on the curse user’s back, avoiding inspecting any part of the interior. Shoko knows that if she is to be caught by Jujutsu High, they will interrogate her knowledge about the space. It’s not for Geto’s sake, but her own. The less time she has to spend with the higher ups, the better.

Suguru pads on slippers through the hallway with shadows tracking his every step. His long hair is a waterfall spilling over his shoulders. The sight brings an unwelcome feeling of nostalgia to her chest.

He leads her to a dark living area, the only light present is from a warm lamp sitting in the corner. The curse user sits cross legged on the floor, gesturing to a spot across from him for her to take. Separating the two of them is a walnut coffee table decorated with a vase of blue flowers.

Clearing his throat, Suguru nods at her and asks, “So what brings you here?”

She squints at him, inspecting his sharp features. He is stone faced. His posture is perfect, welcoming her to inquire about anything. Of course, if her suspicions are correct and Satoru is here, she will have to pull teeth to get answers. This time, it is nothing she looks forward to.

She decides to be blunt as she normally is, fearing that if she appears to be desperate, it would completely give her away. 

“I came here because Satoru is gone. No one has been able to find him,” she swallows, determining how to continue. She glances at Suguru’s face. Nothing has changed. “I just want to know if you have seen him. The last time I saw him he seemed unstable, and I am concerned. Satoru tried to take Tengen out by himself. He is lucky that I was there.” While she spoke the last sentence, their eyes met. Her voice is firm and her tone is pointed directly at him.

She has finally struck a chord. Thoughts of satisfaction warm her brain. He no longer wears his nonchalant expression. Suguru’s face shatters; his pupils constricted and his mouth slightly open. An unease surrounds them. Bangs slide into his face in front of his eyes. With a tightly wound gaze on the floor, he inhales to respond.

“I, I have not seen him, Shoko. I,” he pauses, sighing. “I wish I could say I have.” He looks up at her face. Something that mocks sympathy is now etched into his features. Shoko is unsettled.

Shoko was closer with Satoru than Suguru, as their relationship strengthened after Suguru had left, but the two were good friends at one point. Multiple sleepless nights and endless karaoke brought them together, on top of all of the healing sessions she had performed for him. The pair bonded over stupid teenage drama that they had constructed themselves, for entertainment mostly. She enjoyed spending time with him due to how well balanced he was. Although she wishes she could have done more for his mental health, she understood where he stood, just as she does now. He is making his choice. Protecting Gojo seems to come as naturally to him as fighting curses did to all of them.

Squinting at him through piercing eyes, she comments, “Yeah, sure, like I believe that. I am not naive. I know he has been around you at least once since the breakup. He suddenly snapped out of his funk, and then slipped right back into it before trying to take Tengen on. Something must have triggered him.”

“Break up?” His voice is tight. He spoke the syllables as if they were foreign to him.

She took note of that instead of prying for more information about Satoru snapping on Tengen, he wants to know more about her choice of words to reference their fight. Neither time that she mentioned it did he acknowledge it. “Mhm. Don’t play dumb with me. We both know you loved each other; that’s not something we need to linger on. The question is, do you know where he is now?”

His eyes drop to the floor, hands now rubbing each other. 

“You’re an idiot for thinking that I believe that you haven’t seen him at least once.”

“So what? You think that because you suspect that I’ve seen him that you have evidence of me knowing where he is?” he chuckles.

“If you’re just going to lie to me again, I’ll head out.”

A moment.

She briefly nods and rises to her feet. “Thanks. Care to show me out?”

His lips form a tight line. He follows suit, standing, but stops her. “Shoko, how did you find me?”

“You really think that we haven’t known where you have been this entire time?” She laughs. “I can’t believe you haven’t caught on yet. Suguru, we knew your location, but you had been quiet, so we didn’t pursue.” She reaches for a box of cigarettes, but her fingers brush the bottom of the pocket instead. “I am in need of a smoke. Got any?”

The surprise shimmers across his face, but doesn’t stay for long. An unreadable expression takes over. “Sure,” he disappears into a different room.

Shoko jumps on the opportunity to head towards the door. If the sorcerer is here, she certainly isn’t going to be the one to find him. She is hoping the trust she still has in the two of them is mutual, but fear snaps at the back of her mind like a whip. Its paws thunder inside as it races to the front. Reality hits her; if they are together, she is ultimately defenseless against them.

That’s the brainstem being activated, right? I need to stop this from happening.

Her heart starts beating rapidly as she reaches the door. Throwing a glance over her shoulder to ensure her safety, she exits the dark building. A loud noise shoots through the house as she pulls the door open to make her escape. Biting her lip, she forces herself to wait outside in case Suguru is coming. Her legs beg to flee, but her brain reminds her that she couldn’t hide from either of them.

Now the hypothalamus. Fight or flight kicking in.

A lighter dangles from her fingers as Suguru meets her outside, a box of cigarettes in his hand. “I thought you said it was too wet to be outside.” His voice is dripping with evil.

“That was when I was waiting for you to get over yourself and open the door. It’s different this time,” she retorts, leaning into the lighter.

At least my prefrontal cortex is still working.

Geto smirks and clicks the object, extinguishing the fire.

Memories from the last time they smoked together flood her mind. Suguru looked so content that day; adrenaline rushing through his veins like a drug. Those positive feelings abandoned him long ago being replaced by something unsettling that she can’t quite put a finger on. Whatever it is, she doesn’t appreciate its presence.

The tobacco relieves her senses in the way that coming home does. Like a record going back to the beginning, she found her way there. Utahime’s going to be so upset but right now, answers are more important than her mortal health. The shield the healer once held falls to the floor with a clatter. The bravery makes her mouth move, even though the pulsating cortisol begs it to stop.

“Do you live here alone?”

A scoff. “Well, I guess Jujutsu Tech has eyes on me, so you probably already know the answer to that.”

“Wouldn’t be asking if I did.”

“So you’re trying to make small talk with me just for fun?”

“For your information, I have been trying to protect you because we were friends at one point.” She taps ash off of the butt of the cigarette, watching the dust fall to the earth. “I have always had to keep you two safe. And here we are again. Never learned my lesson.”

The rain picks up again, this time harder than it had before. Her stomach sinks like a stone in a lake. In her haste, she left her umbrella inside the room they were in together. She curses to herself and debates not returning to fetch it. She has a long walk back to the station and then another trek to Jujutsu High. The night is only going to lengthen and spring surely won’t let go of its hold on the earth.

“Geto, you should know that he’s been extremely unstable. More than just with Tengen.”

The curse user stirs, but doesn’t respond. He’s leaning against the wall of the building, lurking in the shadows. The slant of the rain just barely misses his feet.

“His birthday was the first time that I saw it, but I’d bet it’s happened prior to that. We were out in Shibuya, just he and I. He almost went home with someone but before they met up, he snapped. I had to chill him out.

“Oh, and before the fight, he freaked out on me. Acted like I was the enemy. Snarled at me like I was the one pushing him over the edge.” She takes another drag. “I thought he was going to wipe out the entire neighborhood. I think if I wasn’t there, he would have hollow purpled the entire city.”

“You’re talking about Satoru?”

Shoko laughs, cold and bitter. “No, Nanami.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she catches a nervous tick. 

His body is releasing stress hormones. 

He brushes the hair out of his face.

She leans on the nerves that are telling her to stop. “It was the guy that he was going to go home with that started attacking him. Satoru couldn’t move. I found him laying in the alley while the guy was kicking him.”

Still a lack of response, but she can sense dread exhuming off of him.

A slow inhale. The cigarette sits in his fingers by his side. It’s working.

The memories are hard to relive, but the benefits potentially outweigh the threat. Shoko knows the risks. She knows how strong Geto is and how dangerous this could be. Her place in Jujutsu Tech is the healer, but her connection to Satoru is stronger. She has to continue. The curse user had to be on the edge now. The muscles are contracting. She’s already cut the skin, if she can just reach the scalpel –

“Said he’d do anything for you.”

A car honks down the street.

“He doesn’t care about what you’ve done.”

A storm drain swallows the rainwater a few feet away.

“Claimed that he doesn’t care about what the higher ups want.”

More ash hits the concrete.

“He said that if he ever saw you again, he wouldn’t return to Jujutsu Tech.”

Her lips stop moving. The resurrected memory startles even her. That was different, wasn't it? That was a drunken confession and those can be exaggerated.

“What’s your point, Shoko?”

“You should be worried about him. If you’ve seen him, I need to know.”

“I’ve told you everything that I know.”

“Would it kill you to trust me for his sake?” The question bites. She can’t hold the fury back any longer. The blade of the scalpel slips and slides into the muscle. “I’m not here for you. I don’t give a shit about what goes on in your life anymore. I am worried about Satoru. The one who nearly got himself killed at the hands of Tengen, trying to avenge you.”

“Clearly, the feelings he has for you aren’t reciprocated. If you wanted to help him, you would help me right now.”

The healer accidentally punctured an organ in her goal of getting underneath the curse user’s skin. She doesn’t have enough gauze to cover the wound. Blood pumps out while she frantically searches for sutures.

“What do you want me to do, Shoko? Wander into the city to try and find the person who’s been avoiding me for the last six months? I’ve shattered him,” he snarls back. The violet eyes are ablaze, similar to the fire he previously had in his hand. “I don’t know where the hell he could be. He’s not mine anymore.”

The monitors beep in the background, but she lets the noise fade. The patient is losing and so is the doctor.

“He still would be if you didn’t crush him.” The healer backs down from the fight. This isn’t her battle to partake in anymore. “I forgot my umbrella inside,” she mumbles. The door slams behind her.

Shoko is met with another crossroads. Go investigate another room and risk being caught by someone or leave without knowing. She could satisfy her ravenous curiosity, but she’s nearly positive that she knows the outcome.

The light in the hallway is now on and it illuminates every part she missed paying attention to before. Biting her tongue, she gently locks the front door behind her to buy herself more time.

The squeaking of her wet shoes alerts anyone who’s here of her presence and she’s sure they’re running away like curses do in the vicinity of a stronger energy. The kitchen is directly across from the living area that she was in with the host, and if there’s somewhere that she’ll find answers, it might be there. So much for trying not to memorize the space.

The area is small and is connected to a bigger dining area. She takes note that the table has six chairs. It would be strange of the curse user who loved hosting to not have created a community, so she can’t believe that all of this is for him. Surely there are others who live here.

A box of half eaten mochi sits on the counter. Shoko’s breath catches when she sees it. The container was hastily ripped open and its contents spilled in crumbs onto the marble. Though the flavor is something she hasn’t ever seen Satoru eat, Geto surely wouldn’t be eating sweets. Still, uncertainty lingers. Shifting her weight, she stares, unsure of what to make of the situation.

Trying to calm herself, she shrugs the apprehension off. If there is anyone else here, she’s going to have to retreat. Besides, Geto is waiting outside for her and he won’t believe she was just grabbing her umbrella that she left inside the door.

On the way back to him, she sighs, watching her feet take steps in front of her. If Satoru isn’t here, where the hell could he be?

He’s not a child, she reminds herself. If the sorcerer isn’t here, he can get himself back home.

The handle of her umbrella is still warm to touch. The item lifts with a slight rattle. Shoko tilts her head at the object. She doesn’t recall it making that noise before.

Sitting on the floor, underneath her umbrella, is a pair of sunglasses that she recognizes.

Tears pool in her eyes. She blinks furiously, unwilling to believe her sight.

Reality settles in after a moment of silence. There is only one way she could decipher the situation. Those are Gojo’s sunglasses. She would recognize them anywhere. Bitterness raises in her throat.

“Well, I hope you are both happy,” she mutters to the nonexistent audience before pulling the door open. Her lip trembles as the grip she has on the object tightens.

Stepping into the sharp air, her breath is visible as she lets it go. Smoke from the curse user’s mouth wraps around her. Not stopping to acknowledge him, she disappears into the thunderstorm.

-----------

Suguru

Suguru stares into the vast blanket of rain that encompasses the dark environment. Shoko’s visit did not surprise him, nor did the fact that they have eyes on him. His first concern is addressing Satoru now, but even the pacing couldn’t stop the adamant repetition of the healer’s words.

“He tried to fight Tengen. He’s lucky that I was there.”

The pounding rain increases in tune with his footsteps that are tapping against the concrete in front of the building. The rain collects in the drains like his thoughts, but Suguru cannot release them. If the curse user calls Satoru to alert him of the trouble and he’s at the school now, he could be risking Satoru’s wellbeing. The higher ups would easily find out about their meeting, which would complicate the situation more. If Shoko’s truly been covering for him like she said, Suguru’s next move could make it worse. Alternatively, Satoru might not be there, but where else would he have gone?

The cigarette nearly burns his fingers. It falls to the ground in a pile of ash. Suguru places his wounds onto his tongue while he debates. Had he told Shoko the truth, she could have helped find Satoru, but then what? Pulling her into this mess seemed worse than lying. If she doesn’t know, they can’t hold information over her head like a creaking guillotine.

A dial tone rings in his ear.

“Hello?”

The zori sandals click against the concrete in front of the building Suguru took over a couple of years ago. His stomach growls, angry at the curse user for not filling its requests for sustenance.

“Hey, I need to talk to you when you get back.”

“This seems abnormally urgent for the Suguru that I know. Is this the strongest curse user in Japan?”

Suguru skips past the compliment as if it’s nothing more than a crack in the sidewalk. “Everything’s fine,” he internally sighs, trying to figure out how much to tell her without causing concern. “When are you going to be back?”

“The girls and I are just enjoying a beach walk. Don’t worry, it’s not busy,” her tone is firm, but comforting. “It’s what, one? We can probably be back by six if that’s not too late. Depends on the train schedule, though.”

Five more hours of pacing and debating what to do. Is that something he can handle? Suguru isn’t sure. Fingers run through his dark hair that’s falling into his eyes. “Yeah, okay, that’s fine. We can talk then.”

“You’re not very convincing.”

It’s only been how long of them knowing each other and she already can tell? Is he that translucent? “I don’t want to worry you or the girls, so I would rather talk about this later, but we might have a slight problem. I’m not sure how to proceed.”

The information is too fragile to be told outside where anyone could be listening, so Suguru steps inside to talk to her. Both ends of the line are silent as the door shuts behind him. An item crunches on the floor. Suguru looks underneath his shoes. He thinks his heart stops.

“Manami? Can you keep the girls for the rest of the day? I need to take care of something.”

In the background, the girls’ shrill voices and laughter crawls accompanies her weary voice. “Suguru, are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“Yes,” he hesitates while racing through the building. The curse user swallows nervously. The floor creaks under feet as he circles. “Gojo Satoru is, um, he was my best friend.” Crackling comes through the speaker. “He showed up last night and I think Jujutsu Tech knows that he was here.”

“Gojo? As in the worst enemy to our family? Suguru, why,” his name is said in an anxious voice, as if she says it too loud their peaceful life will shatter. “What the hell was he doing there?”

“I don’t know.” Trembling fingers brush through his hair. He needs to focus. He needs to figure out a plan.

The truth is that he truly didn’t know at the time. Suguru knows now; the sorcerer accessed his free will for the first time. Attacking Tengen alone was brave and very out of character for Satoru. Suguru’s chest stirs. He fights off a smile. He wants so badly to be proud of the man for using his humanity to make a selfish decision for once. Being self-centered is a dirty trait in humans, but for sorcerers, it is a necessary evil.

And on Satoru, it’s delicious.

“I’m taking the girls to my place. You take care of what you need to. We’ll discuss more later.”

The guilt of a lack of transparency makes him sick. “Thank you, Manami.”

“Just keep us safe.”

-----------

The call log tells Suguru that it has been an hour since his conversation with Manami and it’s only been three minutes since his last attempt at contacting Satoru. He unblocked his number less than fifteen minutes after hanging up with her. Since then he’s called the sorcerer ten times, but each time it’s gone to voicemail. He can’t decide if it’s because his number is blocked, if his phone is dead, or if the worst outcome is unfolding. If the higher ups have discovered their secret and are using Satoru for the weapon they act like the man is.

If worse comes to worst, though, Suguru trusts that Shoko will have Satoru’s back. Even though she probably knows that Satoru was indeed with him the night before. And she knows that Suguru lied to her. As long as Satoru and Suguru’s family is safe, he’ll handle the consequences of the actions he committed.

He’ll do anything to keep the ones he loves safe, which is why Suguru grabs a light coat, and sets out onto the streets. If he has to go to Jujutsu Tech to find Satoru, so be it. At this point, there’s nothing to lose.

Chapter Text

Satoru

April 3rd, 2008

The steam from the hot shower Satoru spent over an hour in fogged the mirror of the hotel room. He marks a smiley face on it, something he’s always done since he was a child. He doesn’t believe in superstitions, but if he did, this would be close to that.

In his reflection he can see the dark circles just underneath his eyes. The image grimaces at him. He really needs to adopt better sleeping habits. Reverse cursed technique can only do so much.

Water drips off of his white hair into his eyes as he steps onto the cold hardwood floor outside of the door. A shiver runs up his spine. He glares at the air conditioner in the corner as if it should have turned itself off when he got in the room. The only times the man lets his limitless down is when he’s inside the barriers of Jujutsu Tech but today, his body is too exhausted to hold the technique up. He’s tried, but failed to keep the skill in place. It falters like a machine that’s been working too hard. For someone who claims to be more than just a weapon, he doesn’t treat himself like a human.

Satoru groans. He should have picked up clothes when he grabbed a phone charger. All he has is what he left the school with yesterday which includes the stack of photos from two years ago, his dead cell phone, and the tattered outfit. The clothes are in a heap on the floor. Satoru lays on the bed, throwing his arms back, staring at the ceiling. He’ll figure something out.

Curtains block the sunlight from shining in too much, but from what he can tell, it’s still afternoon. He took his time in the shower, hoping to let the residuals that were stuck to his skin wash off of him as if it never happened.

The missing chunks of the events from last night are still inaccessible to him. They’re plastered behind a wall that Satoru doesn’t remember building, but isn’t surprised that it’s there.

The ringing of his phone jolts him out of his miserable state. Satoru flops onto his stomach, throwing a hand on the device and flipping it open. The contact on the screen makes his stomach drop.

Incoming Call: Suguru! <3

Satoru stutters as his thumb shakes over the answer button. Why would Suguru be calling him? Is not heeding every warning that the sorcerer has given him?

Enough time goes by for the call to drop. Satoru’s gaze is glued to the phone for a few minutes afterwards while he processes what just happened. Multiple missed calls light up his screen. A few from Shoko, but more than ten from Suguru.

What the hell is going on?

His finger hovers over the button to call them back. Satoru can’t decide which one to call first. He and the numbers are in a staring contest.

The competition is cut short by another incoming call. This time he can’t back down.

“Hello?”

“Satoru. Where are you? Please tell me you’re safe and not at Jujutsu Tech.” The voice is hushed and hurried. Satoru envisions the speaker to be hiding in shadows, glancing around as if someone is stalking him.

“I’m at a hotel. What the hell is going on? Why are you calling me? Do you know how dangerous this is?”

“Where are you? I am going to come get you. Do you remember anything from yesterday?”

Frustration rises in Satoru’s chest. “No, I don’t remember anything. Why are you and Shoko hounding me? I don’t underst-”

Suguru cuts his words off. “Don’t contact her, please. I don’t mean to worry you, but can you please tell me where you are? I’ll explain after that.”

Satoru swallows nervously. Could this be a trap? “I trust you,” he proves his lie by hesitating. “I’m in Shibuya.”

“Are you with anyone?”

“No, why are you asking?”

“No reason.”

Satoru bites his lip. “Will you please tell me what’s going on now?” His voice wavers, thin with anxiety. “You guys are making me nervous.”

“Satoru,” a pause. “I think you’re free from Jujutsu Tech. If you want to be.”

The sorcerer focuses on breathing.

“Shoko said you attacked Tengen yesterday.”

The pace picks up. Satoru can hear his beating heart.The rhythm is louder than that of Sugruu’s voice. 

How is this possible?

Of course, the sorcerer knew that attacking Tengen was something he wanted to do, but to actually do it?

A wicked smile splits his face into two.

I’m free?

“How much longer until you arrive?”

------------

In the amount of time it takes Suguru to reach the hotel, Satoru has checked all of his text messages from Shoko, cried, and tried to make himself as presentable as possible. His best friend had left him a few voicemails but Satoru decided he couldn’t listen to them right now. His mental state is too fragile and he wants to enjoy the taste of freedom that he thinks his past self has obtained for his current self.

He has been obsessively checking the time, waiting by the door for the person to arrive. His mind wanders to places of what this means for the two of them. It’s only been six months but so much has changed. Even still, Satoru knows deep inside himself that he doesn’t want anything but Suguru.

The sorcerer is standing in the mirror, assessing every strand of hair when a knock interrupts his movements. He panics, realizing he hadn’t yet decided how he was going to approach this moment. How do you greet the person who you’ve had this kind of past with? Satoru shrugs the thought off, tripping as he bolts to the door. He doesn’t give opening it a second review. The door that stands between him and the person he’s now given everything for is nearly ripped off the hinges.

Suguru stands in the doorway with black harem pants, a black t-shirt and a sleek light leather jacket on. His hair is swept back in a low bun. He appeared a bit startled at first, when the white haired man approached so suddenly. Satoru’s chest is heaving as they stare at each other. Within seconds, Satoru’s hand is on Suguru’s wrist, pulling him into the room.

Their fingers are intertwined. Suguru’s free hand is in Satoru’s hair as their lips meet each other’s. Satoru stumbles backwards but doesn’t let go of the other man. His hands are on the curse user’s hips, pulling him as close as possible. The movement knocks Satoru onto the mattress in the room, but he makes no complaints.

“Suguru,” the name slips out of his mouth in a gasp. He didn’t need to say it because Suguru needed to hear it, but because Satoru needed to hear his own voice calling the name of his lover. The syllables were tactile and the only pattern of speech that holds any significance. Satoru’s grip tightens on the dark haired man’s body, pulling him onto the bed.

Having him so close is intoxicatingly overwhelming. The curse user’s name is chanted inside of Satoru’s body in a constant rhythm. His brain is capable and comprehends why it’s being repeated, but his bones are joining in on the cadence. The weight of Suguru’s body on his is intoxicating.

It’s embarrassing, in a way, someone having the power to undo Gojo so easily. The feeling is akin to trying to ride a bike for the first time. It’s a skill that someone can’t understand without direction, a backup plan, or someone to catch them. Letting go of the safety net is terrifying, though once the rider has the hang of it, it’s liberating. The sensation is irreplaceable. He trusts that Suguru will be there to catch the pieces of him when he falls apart.

Suguru’s jacket was removed at some point, so his biceps are gleaming in the light from the window to Satoru’s right. Satoru doesn’t hide the manner in which his eyes are inspecting every curve of his arms and his neck. The sight makes him salivate. He’s silently begging for more affection from his lost lover through his wandering gaze. What he has been offered hasn’t been enough.

His hands slide over the indents of Suguru’s muscles, carefully, cautiously, as if this is the one and only time he will get to experience this. The movements are performed so that he won’t forget what he feels like in case the world goes back to how it used to be tomorrow.

Violet eyes examine his face. Satoru softens underneath the lavender fields of his eyes. The method in which Suguru reads him is so tender and calming.

The two stare at each other for more than a few minutes. Chests heave in sync but not close enough to touch upon their inhales. Suguru’s cherry lips are within reach, but Satoru doesn’t want to push. The moment is too fragile, he’s afraid it will snap under too much pressure. Instead, he releases Suguru’s hip and brushes the bangs out of his face. The onyx haired man’s eyes shut, trapping the amethysts behind his eyelids. Satoru doesn’t pull his hand from his face even after the action is completed. The moment is too intimate to end so soon.

His thumb caresses his jawline, drawing an invisible line to his ear. His fingers stop at the base of Suguru’s skull, gently spreading into his soft hair. The sorcerer is quietly breathing through his mouth as he performs the actions, hoping that maybe the curse user will lean down and close the distance between them.

Satoru’s breathing slows. He blinks, studying the man above him. Physical touch is rare for Satoru, not just because of his infinity, but also because he refuses to let anyone near. After the soul crushing event of Suguru leaving, he couldn’t handle the pain. The only affection he has wanted to know is Suguru’s and having it feels like being home.

“Are you happy?”

Satoru frowns and quickly straightens his face back out. The expression arrived so instinctively that he couldn’t hold it back. “Happy?”

“Yes.” His eyes are open again, looking over Satoru’s face as he waits for a response.

“I’m feeling a lot of emotions right now, but I would say content is one of them.”

“Hmm,” Suguru pushes himself off of the sorcerer, instead opting to lay next to him on the bed. Satoru mimics the action, rolling onto his side so he can properly look at the man next to him. “How are you feeling?”

Confused, Satoru thinks. He isn’t sure why they are no longer making out, but he supposes it’s impossible to ignore the massive problem the pair is going to have to sort out. There’s too much to consider all in one night, but as two people who were once, or are, jujutsu sorcerers, this is the life they chose. War waits for no man.

He inhales, inspecting the creases of the cream comforters that they’re laying on top of. Satoru absentmindedly counts the crinkles of the sheets underneath Suguru’s body as a way to ignore the question at hand. He isn’t sure how he feels and he certainly isn’t sure what Suguru would like to hear. Happy? Isn’t that for people who are content long term? Satoru isn’t sure that he can be happy in the situation he’s currently in. Can a jujutsu sorcerer be happy? Wouldn’t Suguru be one of the people who know the answer to that the best?

Satoru picks the most honest answer. “Confused.” He feels the flickering gaze on his face. His fingertips rub together anxiously. “I don’t know what happened yesterday. All I have is you and Shoko telling me what occurred. I can hardly remember anything but,” he frantically searches for any recollection of the previous day’s adventures. “Yaga told me they had suspicions that we were together.”

One of the puzzle pieces appeared. Satoru jumped on it as if it were a chunk of ice in the middle of the Arctic ocean. The vast wilderness is covered in a dense fog, but he’s got one section under control. Surely the rest can be discovered.

“And,” he closes his eyes tightly as if that will help. “Um.” The colors that were in his vision fade back to blacks and greys.

“It's okay. Do you want me to tell you what I know?” Suguru’s voice is smooth. Satoru would despise if it was anyone else, for from them, it would sound degrading. From Suguru though, it sounds warm.

He nods using his saucer-like eyes to encourage the curse user to share the knowledge.

“Shoko came by earlier searching for you. She said she found you attacking Tengen yesterday. According to her, she has covered for you so far, but she is very concerned about your mental wellbeing. I know it’s hard, but do you remember any other times you’ve forgotten moments?”

Satoru holds in a scoff. “Like, constantly? I don’t see how that’s pertinent, though.” He sits up on the bed, dragging his knees to his chest. “I remember wanting to fight Tengen. I blame them for everything that happened to you.” His eyes bounce from the wall in front of him to Suguru, and back to the wall. “I wanted revenge. I don’t remember going down there and seeking it out, but I believe that I did it.”

“How do you feel about that?”

There’s an armor that Satoru constantly wears. It’s different from limitless. This barrier is invisible too, but it’s not tangible. This wall keeps his emotions guarded and his feelings hidden. The only way through is if Satoru offers the sledgehammer up. For Suguru, though, he doesn’t need to ask. Satoru willingly lets the wall crumble.

With a shaky breath, he looks through glossy eyes at the person next to him. How does he feel about that? How can he put all of this into what few words he can think of?

“Confused,” he finally decides. “Too much noise in my head right now. I, I don’t know what to do.” His lip starts to tremble. “I wish I could remember anything from yesterday. I’m missing too much information. What am I going to do about Shoko?” His grip on his legs tightens. “I,” his voice cracks. The sorcerer starts to calm himself by rocking again.

“Can I touch you?”

Suguru’s hands are denting the mattress. Satoru nods but refuses to meet his eyes.

Slowly, the dark haired man wraps his arms around Satoru’s body. The contact is tender and slightly hesitant, but it’s warm. Satoru’s body practically liquifies at the touch. Muscles release the tension as if a switch was flipped. He leans into the sensation, surprising himself with a sigh that he didn’t realize he was gripping. The rocking doesn’t stop, but it’s less necessary now. The pressure that is blanketing him is helping more than the pacing was.

“I know that you’ve got a lot going on right now. We need to get you grounded right now, and then we can talk about how we are going to move forward.”

Satoru nods. He’s right. Nothing can be done while Satoru is in this panicked state, but how can he reach the comfort of stability when this is his reality? Everything that he’s known is gone. But everything that he’s wanted is within his reach.

He runs his tongue over his dry lips before trying to form words. Satoru shifts his fingers to grip Suguru’s shirt. The fabric is soft. It catches on his torn nails. “Sorry,” he mutters.

A hand runs through his hair. “Can you focus on your breathing, Satoru? Think about my voice and the feeling of the pressure on your body. Do you want some water?”

The cold air from the unit helps slow his breathing down, but most of all it’s the scent on Suguru’s skin that pulls the sorcerer out of the funk. The movement comes to an easy stop. His hold on the shirt releases. “I’m okay.”

At this moment, guilt is nipping at his heels like a herding dog trying to corner him. He willfully left Shoko behind, just as Suguru had done to him. He trusts Suguru, still, knowing that his actions had always been morally right, so why has he questioned his actions for so long? 

Satoru’s thoughts are still stumbling all over each other, racing to his lips, but his mouth is no longer tight. Sentences are within reach now.

“Does Shoko know that we are together?”

Trust can be a horrid thing. The bond that ties people together, whether announced or not, can be severed after one minute action, though it takes years to build. As mortal beings people rely on those who have accepted their fate as a healer, as the giver of safety, to provide them with certainty of prolonged life. Sorcerers, however, tie trust into a Gordian knot that even the strongest can’t undo. But he might try until his fingers bleed if it’ll ease the pain of the betrayal he’s caused.

The air is tight while Satoru waits for a response. He already knows what hasn’t been shared, but hope lingers at the bottom of his heart.

“Yes, I think she does. When I brought you inside last night your glasses fell and I forgot to pick them up. She might have seen them on the floor before she left.” The curse user’s eyes appear tired. His jaw is set in the way it would be when he was full of regret.

“Suguru, what now?” The sorcerer finally pulls his chin off his hands, peering anxiously into the violet fields.

-------------

Shoko

She was right, as per usual. The weather doesn’t let up on the walk back to the station. Her heavy feet plod through the crowded streets accompanied by the sounds of vehicles speeding by. 

Shoko tries to ignore the despair that follows her like a lost puppy, but it clings to her like an odor no matter how far she tries to run from it. Not even Tokyo’s busy streets are enough to lose it. She can’t hide from either fact any longer. Gojo has abandoned jujutsu society and it seems likely that he is now an enemy.

Soft clicking from the train sliding across the tracks and the lights flashing through the windows surround her. A low hum from the overworked lights above her stutters. She sits alone in the cart, sinking into the crescendo of her thoughts. Torn between understanding and contempt, she tries to find escape in the middle. 

Who could blame Gojo for leaving with the way he was treated? What was jujutsu society going to be like without him? Can I take the betrayal personally?

Her fingers flick the lighter that she carries open and shut. Snap. Snap. Snap. Even though she gave up the habit, it’s a necessary weight that she holds onto. Something about the presence of it provides her with relief. Shoko wonders what the balance of power will be like. For the last several years, as Gojo’s power increased, so did the curses. They needed the playing field to be even. If he is no longer going to be protecting humans, but he isn’t exactly on the curses’ side, where does that leave the cursed spirits?

Pressure wraps around Shoko like a blanket, but instead of being comforted, she feels like she’s suffocating. The responsibility of keeping the school glued together is now on her. Her head pounds with stress. Even though the rain hasn’t let up, the healer takes her time heading back to the school. Nothing waits but the reality she now has to face.

Utahime is still in Tokyo. She stayed but the higher ups’ request while they try to figure out what’s going on. Shoko slipped out without telling her girlfriend where she was going, but she probably could guess. She knows how close she and Satoru were.

The door to the corridor creaks open, splitting the silence in two. Heat swarms her body, causing her numb fingers to burn. Anger raises its ugly head inside her, begging to be felt. She shoves it away, forcing it back into the cage it belongs in. There is no one to be mad at. The situation is what it is and all she could do is focus on moving forward.

A short walk from the entrance is the communal kitchen. Every time Shoko passes it she notices how much smaller it gets.

Unsurprisingly, Utahime is in Shoko’s room, even though she’s got access to the entire school now. It’s silly, but the sorcerer feels like she is tied to the places she spent most of her time.

Shoko pops gum in her mouth when she arrives, standing in the doorway. A subtle smile sits on her lips. “Hey.”

Utahime pulls her headphones out and runs to Shoko. “Oh my gosh, hi. Where have you been? The weather is horrible!” 

The affection is reciprocated. Warm fingers lay gently on Shoko’s forehead, checking her temperature. Her chestnut eyes are filled with concern and sorrow. Hesitantly, Utahime brushes her hand through Shoko’s brown hair. It is the perfect way to ground her without overwhelming either of them.

Shoko kicks herself for not planning how to address the situation with Utahime. Since Gojo’s goals are currently unclear, she doesn’t want to assume anything. While on the other hand, he could be a bomb waiting to be triggered, especially with Geto around. Her girlfriend is absolutely going to see him as a threat no matter how she unveils the information she has.

“I just needed some air.”

Her girlfriend’s face turns to a disgusted scowl. “You smell like smoke.”

“I’ve been good until today. It was only one!”

The comment earns her a scoff. Before Utahime can get too far, Shoko invites her out for coffee. Maybe a neutral location to talk will be easier as that way, Utahime will have to keep her cool.

-----------

Suguru

It’s a simple question. “What now?” But it’s the trust that makes Suguru stammer. 

“Do you want to go back?”

“I want this,” droopy eyes stare directly into Suguru’s soul. “Do you want this?” Their hands are entangled now. The words were frantically spoken, tripping over each other on the path out of his mouth.

“Yes.”

“Then I’m staying.”

Suguru swallows thickly. “Satoru.” He’s hesitant to release the words from his lungs. If the sorcerer agrees, he’s abandoning Shoko unless she agrees to join them. Nothing else waits there for Satoru. The curse user’s goal was never to harm anyone at Jujutsu Tech and this feels like the path to achieve that.

Suguru knows the sorcerer has already made his choice, but he doesn’t think it was in stable consciousness. A breakdown is what it took for him to access his free will, although it’s no one’s fault but that of the higher ups. 

Agree and let him stay.

“I’m not changing my goals either way.”

A grim nod. His lips are tight. “I know.”

Suguru goes against his will, knowing that he cannot allow Satoru to go into this blindly. He doesn’t want to lose Satoru again, but his decision has been made and his fate has been sealed. He’s a curse user now and he cannot go back to jujutsu society. 

“You’re willing to accept that?”

“Yes.”

“Listen, Satoru. I don’t want you joining me because –”

“Suguru, I want to. Please let me.”

The curse user rubs his thumb against his palm. “I want you, Satoru. I don’t want you to be used anymore, so I’m not going to let you help me. Is that something you’re willing to accept?”

The cobalt crystals shimmer and blink. He trembles, searching for an answer to the question he hasn’t yet asked. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

“Heal.” A gentle kiss is placed on the top of his white hair. Suguru wipes the moisture from his cheeks. “You need to get better.”

A few minutes of silence is shared between them while Satoru starts to relax into Suguru’s touch.

“I’m free.” The phrase was tenderly whispered.

“Yes, you’re free.”

Laughter suddenly slices the anxiety in two, spilling its seeds into the air. Satoru’s head is thrown back, similar to the way it was when he was sick last night. The sight confuses Suguru until the sorcerer speaks.

 “Well, I guess the high school will be coming after me now. It was only a matter of time. Good thing we are the strongest.” He wipes a tear from underneath his eye, but this time it’s sprouted from joy.

The curse user exhales, turning towards Satoru. His positive attitude brings a wave of relief over Suguru’s shoulders. He knows his soulmate well enough to see through his happy facade, but the only way they’re going to move forward is by trudging through. Satoru needs to hold onto the important parts of himself to recover.

“Can I ask you something?”

Satoru’s hair tumbles to the side from his head being tilted. The sapphire crystals in his face sparkle. “What’s up?”

“You brought the photos with you.”

A brief sweep of scarlet graces Satoru’s pale skin. He hides it by shifting his face downward, but the curse user had already caught a glimpse.

“That wasn’t a question.”

Suguru laughs. “No, I guess it wasn’t.” His gaze meets Satoru’s. “Can I look at them?”

Nostalgia rises for the first time since he can remember. It’s a strange emotion that Suguru usually refuses to sit with. It holds too much weight for the sorcerer’s comfort. 

Satoru proudly pulls out his favorite photos of Suguru from the bunch. Before handing them over, the sorcerer holds the picture up to the curse user. His head tilts while he’s comparing them. “Yep.”

The curse user questions what he means.

“You’re still just as stunning as you were,” Satoru delivers his response with a sly smile.

Suguru’s face turns slightly red. A smile graces his lips. “Right back at you, Satoru.”

-------------

Shoko

Shinjuku is abnormally quiet. Perhaps it’s because of the rain, but the city isn’t usually this slow even on days with poor weather. The coffee shop has a few seats open, some by the window which normally invites a large amount of natural light since it’s south facing, others in egg chairs by the counter where people order. The hardwood floors are a little slippery due the pouring rain. Bean grinders can hardly be heard underneath the squeaky shoes. The aroma of the beans fills the air and brings a sense of comfort to the guests of the shop.

It’s exactly what Shoko needs. The caffeine maybe not so much, but the smell of coffee beans is like a drug to the brain. It’s intoxicating and makes people forget about their woes.

They choose two stools against a small counter in the corner that faces a window for some privacy. Utahime has an iced matcha without any additives, she prefers the bitter taste. Shoko is carrying an iced latte. Neither of them have spoken much aside from casual small talk. The shortage of words isn’t the cause of Shoko’s unshakable anxiety, but it doesn’t relieve it either. She spent the entire trip into the city in the sky thinking of how to approach the topic with her partner. Whenever she said something, Shoko was briefly yanked down to the planet, only to skyrocket back into the clouds when the conversation was over.

The chestnut haired woman sits with one leg crossed over the over, her foot tapping to the beat of the soft music, and her hand twirling the end of her hair. Maybe if Utahime starts the conversation, it’ll be an easier transition.

Although Shoko knows the answer deep down, she hopes that maybe Satoru will show up in Shinjuku, passing the coffee shop. She imagines him looking tattered, not much having changed since last night. He’d probably be pretty disoriented if he’s in the same position as he was during the attack on Tengen. If he showed up, Shoko would catch him, scold him, and drag him back to the morgue so she could figure out how to fix this.

“Have you heard from him?”

As far as Shoko knows, Utahime’s knowledge on the situation is limited to what the healer has told her. She’s unsure if Tengen has exposed any of the truth to the higher ups, but right now, she’s going to accept her fate. If it comes down to her word against Tengen’s, so be it.

“No.”

Utahime hums. The matcha starts to separate from the milk in the drink. Shoko’s eyes are searching the streets for a mop of white hair.

“I’ve called and texted, but no response. I know he’s not at his parent’s.”

“Where could that idiot be? Tengen is stable again, so it’s not like he lost the fight.”

“Right,” the drink is too sweet. Shoko makes a face. She should have gotten a tea instead.

Her girlfriend frowns. It’s a gentle gesture. She’s not angry, but confused. “You don’t think-” she lets the implied phrase sit on the counter in front of them.

Shoko sits for a few minutes, waiting for Utahime to finish the sentence. The cold liquid passes words of explanation that are stuck in her throat. Maybe they will drown in the coffee.

“The higher ups are going to want to know where he is,” her girlfriend cautiously approaches. 

The healer doesn’t move. She knows that her hands are bloody and covered in evidence. It’s obvious to her partner now. She knows what the higher ups are going to say. The reason Shoko went looking was to ensure Gojo’s safety, mostly from himself. His recent self destructive endeavor was horrific to go through. The man’s only weaknesses are himself and Geto. 

“Yep, they are going to want to know.” She stirs the straw in her cup.

“You and I know.” Sorrowful almond eyes glance at Shoko. “Don’t we?”

Shoko sighs. A few college students rush inside the cafe. Three of them are huddling under one umbrella like penguins in a snowstorm. The woman’s backpack is slipping off of her shoulders, so she hands the closed object to one of them men, while she shrugs the bag off. The men walk to the counter side by side, leaving their friend behind. She stammers at them, reprimanding them for not waiting for her. One of the men laughs and the other man pays for all of their drinks.

Hot tears had start to pool into Shoko’s brown eyes as she discovers the courage to meet her partner’s gaze. “Yes.”

As if she were nothing but a ball of twine waiting to be unraveled, Shoko felt herself crumbling. The cold temperature is helping keep her in the moment. Utahime sets a hand on Shoko’s leg and it convinces her to look at her beautiful eyes.

The word is suspended in the air, taking up more space than Shoko wants it to. Of course she can trust Utahime, but the situation is incredibly dire. The two are brutally aware of the dangers this could pose on everything that they know. She feels defeated, but the environment is helping her keep composure.

The college students are sitting at a table with a couple of computers and papers. More drinks than people are on the table. A few phrases are exchanged, one takes a sip, and then the pattern repeats. None of them know about the imminent doom that is coming for them and the entire world if the two strongest sorcerers are on the offensive playing field now. Shoko longs for that kind of ignorance.

Reluctantly, she fills Utahime in her morning activities. To no one’s surprise, her girlfriend was very upset that Shoko put herself in that type of danger without consulting anyone first.

“No one even knew where you were! What would have happened if he hurt you?” Utahime hissed, glancing over her shoulder as if people were giving them any attention. 

Shoko shrugs. “I would have figured it out.”

Their conversation dulls and the people in the cafe start to file out. Their drinks have remained untouched since Shoko released the details.

“Should I assume that he’s not coming back?”

She should have expected the question. She should have had an answer prepared.

A breath blows her hair out of her face. Her hand reaches for the melted coffee on the counter in front of them. “Uh, yeah. We’d be foolish to think he’s coming back.”

Shoko finally meets the eyes of her stunning girlfriend. Her almond eyes are slightly watery, filled with anxiety. “I need a drink.”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

--------------

Satoru

The two men decided to wait until night to leave the hotel room, hoping that the shadows would be enough to conceal their faces. The aftermath of his actions hasn’t quite arrived yet. While he waits, Satoru is relishing in the touch of his lost lover.

He can’t remember how it started, but what matters more is that their lips are on each other’s. He can recall memories of tracing Suguru’s jawline before he shifted to lay kisses on the skin he had touched. Now, Satoru’s hands are tangled in soft black hair that is tumbling over Suguru’s broad shoulders. A gasp escapes his partner’s lips as Satoru gently touches his neck. Pride flutters in Satoru’s chest. Permission and a reason to continue.

The curse user is on his knees, straddling Satoru’s lap. One of his hands is holding Satoru’s neck steady, while the other is caressing his jaw. Desire burns hot between the two as their mouths make contact.

Placing a hand on the bed, the white-haired man leans towards his soulmate, licking his skin before gripping it in between his teeth. A hiss seethes from Suguru’s mouth. The sorcerer doesn’t stop. Now that he’s had a taste of selfishness, he wants more. He craves for Suguru to come undone from his doing. He releases the bite, planting more kisses on the man’s skin, slowly making his way back to the barren field of his lips.

A small moan slips out of the dark haired man’s mouth when Satoru’s lips crash back into his. Desperation increases, causing the two to move faster. They are in sync, as if they had choreographed their intimacy. Suguru’s hands return to Satoru’s hips, guiding them while they grind against each other.

“I’m,” Satoru parts his lips, using his pauses to breathe to speak. “Never letting you go –” his tongue pushes into Suguru’s mouth. “Again.”

The next collision of their mouths is akin to an asteroid crashing into the planet. The motion rocks Satoru’s entire world, even though it’s sitting right in front of him. The moment is startling for the sorcerer. He has always been praised for having the earth in his fingertips. The past eighteen years of existence have revolved around a world that Satoru has never cared about. But now, everything that the man wants is in his hands and he doesn’t quite know what to do with it.

Suguru seizes the hand that is tied in his hair, pulling Satoru’s wrist to the front of his chest. Amethyst eyes squint at the sorcerer as he leans away, sitting on his knees. His opposite hands lifts Satoru’s chin so their eyes can meet.

“There’s nothing I regret more than hurting you. I know apologies aren’t enough, but I hope that you can forgive my faults. I’m not going anywhere, Satoru.”

Satoru’s wrist is still in the hold of his lover, but his fingers are free, so he grips Suguru’s shirt and leans in for another kiss. Their foreheads bump together from his eagerness, but he chases Suguru’s lips even though the man is laughing, pulling away slightly. Satoru frowns, wondering why the other man is so far from his reach. To combat the distance, he sits up on his knees.

The long haired man gives into Satoru’s inaudible wants. He pulls his lover closer, frantically kissing him before moving his lips to his jaw, his ear, and down to his neck. Satoru shudders under the touch.

Panting, Suguru slowly pulled away from the white haired sorcerer. Violet eyes stare down at him, causing his skin to set ablaze. Satoru wishes he could swim in that color of purple. Maybe it would be a pleasant place to drown.

“Is everything okay?” His voice is shaky.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s okay.”

Satoru’s lips shift. His appetite for touch was resurrected and now he’s starving.

The curse user moves to lay next to Satoru on the plush mattress, careful to not stray too far from Satoru’s reach. Satoru shifts to lay next to Suguru, propping his head up with his hand, staring at his lover. His bangs fall into his eyes and their hands bump each other’s as they both reach to correct them.

Blushing, Satoru pulls away, but Suguru grabs his hand before he can return it. “I’m glad you’re here, Satoru.” Suguru’s eyes are shining with admiration and hope. A content smile is spread on his slightly swollen lips.

Satoru’s eyes are locked on his counterpart’s mouth, thinking about what just occurred. After Suguru spoke, Satoru blushed and stuttered, realizing his gaze was apparent. “Thank you. Thank you for letting me be here.”

Suguru reaches towards him, pulling the sorcerer towards him. His hands are gentle but firm. The direction is clear. Satoru wonders what he wouldn’t give to stay in this moment forever.

-------------

The couple laid together until well after the sun set. Satoru couldn’t let go of his anxiety the entire time, though he tried. He expected his phone to go off at any minute, waiting for anyone from his deserted life to demand information from him. The collar is still embedded in his neck even though the leash has been torn off.

Suguru leaves the hotel first. The same emotions that he left behind at their first reunion depart with the curse user when he exits the room. Although Satoru knows they’re going to be together shortly, he still feels as if a chunk of his heart has been sliced out. 

“It’s a quick trip. We’re going to be fine. When you get back just knock three times, okay?” He plants a kiss on Satoru’s cheek before his hand slips out of Satoru’s and onto the door handle.

The sorcerer sits on the bed in the warmth that his lover had left, waiting for time to pass. The voicemails from Shoko beckon him, but he can’t bring himself to open the phone yet. 

I wish I had brought my Nintendo.

Satoru laughs at himself for thinking about a silly device. At least he’s got the television for entertainment. Shaking his head, he grabs the remote, finding something to indulge in until the time comes.

The station is a brief walk away, but Satoru can’t help but feel on edge the entire time. His eyes twitch under the blindfold, scanning every person that comes within a few feet of him. His natural confident stance blankets him, but the mask is only temporary.

Once he departs the train in Suguru’s neighborhood, the smell of food from a nearby shokudo catches his hungry stomach, pulling him to the restaurant. Satoru is about to enter the building when he remembers that he could easily be spotted as he doesn’t blend in with the crowds of Tokyo very well. He groans, reluctantly turning his feet towards the building he’s meeting Suguru at. This is going to take a while to get used to.

---------------

Suguru

Me: 9:32pm: Hey. How are the girls?

Manami: 9:38pm: They’re good. We had ice cream for dinner.

Suguru shakes his head, chuckling under his breath. Of course they would talk her into feeding them sugar. At least he doesn’t have to be the one to handle them tonight.

Manami: 9:39pm: How’s your situation

Me: 9:42pm: Managed.

Kind of.

The door clicks open underneath Suguru’s hand. The space looks as it did when he left, but it seems lighter. Or maybe it’s the curse user who feels lighter.

He left the hotel a little over an hour ago, which means Satoru probably had about thirty minutes to go. Suguru hopes that’s enough to enlighten Manami at least a little bit. Toshihisa is going to have to wait to hear about the situation. If he had the kids, it would be different, but Suguru wants the girls to be home as soon as possible.

She picks up halfway through the second ring. Her voice is calm and quiet. “Hey.

“Hey. I’m calling to give you an update. Sorry that it’s so late.”

“All good. I’ve been keeping an eye on the house just in case.” Soft J-pop music flows behind her tone. “What’s the update?”

Nervous fingers play with the base of his shirt. He watches his feet take steps in the building before he remembers that he needs to clean the space for his guest. “Gojo Satoru was, is,” fuck. Has it always been this hard to define them? “He left Jujutsu Tech.”

The phone is propped against Suguru’s shoulder as he shakes the comforter and sheets out. “He’s going to be living here now.”

“Excuse me?” Suguru winces at the question. “Is this safe, Suguru? Please accept this with respect. I am just nervous about our safety. Is he on our side then? I don’t think I understand.”

How can he explain everything to her in so few words? The curse user doesn’t know the answer to all of her questions but Satoru is an irreplaceable part of Suguru. He has always been the piece that Suguru has been missing. Capable of functioning without him, yes, but plants grow greener in an ecosystem that they thrive in. Those environments are surrounded with devotion, mutual support, and a community to lean on.

Suguru had found all of those characteristics within his own family of the girls, Toshihisa, and Mananmi, but the void was still present. Something in his soil was lacking. His soul knew.

“I trust him, Manami. I understand your concerns and I will keep you safe. He’s not going to hurt any of us.”

She sounds hesitant. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Suguru’s moved on to tidying up the kitchen now. Every few seconds the sink is operated, running water pooling out so the dishes can be cleaned. The snacks that the girls must have left out are moved to the cabinet of their treats. The curse user stops when he grabs the mochi, thinking that he should have stopped to get food for Satoru.

“We were inseparable for the years that I attended Jujutsu Tech. He has recently sought revenge on the one who he thinks wronged us. I think he wants to join us now, but I won’t accept his help.”

“Hm. He could be very useful.”

“He’s more than a weapon,” he firmly replies. “I’m not allowing it.” The water funnels down the sink in the shape of a tornado. “He’s going to be living here with me and the girls from now on. We have quite a bit of catching up to do.”

“When would you like the girls to come home?”

“Tomorrow should still be fine. I’ll let you know if anything changes. Thank you, Manami.”

“Sure thing, Suguru. See you tomorrow.”

The phone beeps, announcing the end of the call. Suguru hopes he explained well enough. There’s still so much to discuss with Satoru. One night doesn’t seem like enough time.

Suguru thinks about his first priority: the girls. He’s unsure of how to address the fact that he now has two daughters. The last recollection Suguru has of Satoru with kids is Amanai. He grimaces at the thought.

Three knocks at the door interrupt the chores he was using as a distraction. It wasn’t that long ago that the curse user hosted his family for dinner and since then, he’s hardly been home. But for some reason, things didn’t feel proper enough for the strongest sorcerer in the country.

Satoru stands in the shadows of the looming building outside of the door when Suguru opens it. His breath is knocked out of him. Similar to living in the mountains, he doesn’t think he will ever tire of this sight.

“Hey,” he steps out of the way to let the sorcerer inside.

Rather than knocking him over, this time it’s a calm arrival that ends with a drop of his shoulders and a sigh, as if he’s shutting down.

Suguru wants to tell Satoru how he’s felt. He wishes to find the right way to express his feelings; how he longed for him. How that day was full of anger, adrenaline, and pain. But the words are stuck behind clouds of regret and the sun refuses to shine through them.

“You hungry?”

After everything, Suguru still knows how to get Satoru to light up.

Candles are the only light source present; the flames bouncing off of the walls and both of their faces. Their knees bump together a few times while they reach for the food in silence aside from the soft indie music the record was filling the living room with. To the right of them is a large balcony window complete with a sliding door.

With a mouth full of food, Satoru leans on Suguru. “You know, I finally feel like I am aging again, now that we are back together. I think time stood still while we weren’t.”

Suguru’s heart skips a beat. How long has it been since he had taken a breath? “I am grateful that you are here, Satoru. I may be more patient than you are, but that doesn’t mean I enjoyed waiting for you. I probably should have been used to it though,” he jokes, picking up a piece of sushi.

Satoru mocks offense, leaning backwards with his hand on his chest. “I arrive precisely when I mean to!”

“Even those times that you made me wait for you in the rain?” Suguru puts on his best puppy eyes. He wants to tease Satoru, asking if he purposefully waited to find him, but he feels that it would be too heavy. It wasn’t Satoru’s job to track him down after the horrible way Suguru had treated him during their last day together.

Satoru punches his shoulder while raising his chopsticks to his mouth with his other hand. “Yeah, those too!”

Suguru rolls his eyes. “Next time, please finish chewing before you speak. You are so impolite. Nothing has changed, huh?”

After the meal is finished, the two men walk to the kitchen to clean up their mess. Suguru jumps on the words before they can flee from his sight. He’s in the middle of washing dishes when they stumble out. “Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?”

Once the words are said, Suguru feels his confidence rush back. Mastering exterior conviction is a skill he acquired over the past year. It is beneficial in many ways, but it helps mostly with his lack of security in himself. His prior fear of pushing Satoru away with his feelings ironically worsened again now that Satoru was here, in his space. The thought of making Satoru uncomfortable made him anxious, but he tries to fight the worry off with a wall of confidence. He could take the couch if Satoru wanted. Afterall, he’s the guest. He should get to sleep in the comfortable space.

“Hmm,” Satoru fakes being deep in thought. “Will you be there?”

That is all that it took to open the door. “What if I said yes?” Suguru lets the words melt out of his mouth like butter. He sets the plate down, crossing his arms and facing Satoru. The counter presses firmly into his back. He locks his jaw tight, staring down at the stars in Satoru’s eyes. If he was going to turn this into a flirting session, Suguru is going to enjoy winning his submission.

Satoru’s eyes widen. “Y-yes, I want to sleep in the bed with you. Please.”

Suguru gives a sly smile. “Sure thing Satoru.” He plays it off even though his heart is racing. “Let me get the bedroom ready for you.” As he walks past Satoru, he brushes a hand against his neck lightly. Satoru bites his lip and tenses at his touch before leaning into it. Suguru smiles to himself. He had attained exactly what he was hoping for.

-----------

Satoru

Energy is vibrating below the surface of Satoru’s skin as if he were made of electrical currents. He’s pacing the kitchen like a dog locked in a cage. He is waiting for Suguru to ‘prepare the bedroom’ for him, whatever that means. Why does Suguru have to change something in the room? They have already spent the night together. Satoru groans. The wait is killing him.

A voice calls for him from down the hall. Satoru’s head shoots up instantly, his heart beating rapidly. He thinks Suguru can probably hear it from down the hall.