Chapter Text
Tengen’s barrier can only hold so much, and fate isn’t kind enough to spare the lives of temporary vessels.
Old geezers clapped when Satoru carried Amanai’s body out of the compound. Recklessly he asked Suguru to throw their lives away for the sake of grief, and of course, the other told him no. But that was just the type of person he was, who Satoru fought tooth and nail everyday. Who he’d smiled for. Though that was the part he hated most about the raven-haired man—perfectly imperfect just like his damn bun, and Satoru knocked it down once and lived to tell the tale, so he knew more than anyone how frustrating his moralistic values could be.
Satoru was just so different from him, all the way down to the way the other tucked his socks; which was odd by the way, over and under and—ugh. It was nauseating. He told himself that at the end of the day the other was his best friend who willingly held him in high regard. Whether to save face or not they made a good team, and Suguru only looked at him for who he was, and not what he so happened to be born to be. A person instead of a God. One of the many complexes he had, always running ahead to join Zeus and the other olympians. But Suguru always pulled him back down to the land of the living, giving him some sense of normalcy, anchoring him like he’d run away and become a hag like the old man.
Which is why it hurts so much to set down the glasses Suguru had given him on his dresser as he packed his bags, the land of mortals was never a good fit for him anyway. Moral arguments, saving the innocent, being normal. Those things were beyond him and he played pretend for way too long.
He payed his respects to Amanai’s shrine before he left. Utahime suggested it would help their mental state by having one in the dorm, and while Suguru found it endearing, Satoru didn’t need the constant reminder. Gravesite or vase, they rot all the same.
One last stop by Suguru’s room wasn’t enough to change his mind, the other’s hair was splayed out messily over his sheets. He hadn’t slept well these days, but hell who did? So he’d leave him be to catch up on the rest that he rightfully deserved, that was taken from him just weeks ago. It was totally not because he couldn’t face him if he was awake.
With his bags in hand he took his leave, stepping out of the dorm and beginning his trek to the front of Tengen’s barrier. This was for Amanai and everyone else the world had been cruel to.
“And just where do you think you’re going?” A tired voice called out from behind. It’s too poise to be worried but too angry to hold the irritated fondness it usually carried. Shoko stepped out from behind the dorm building, a cigarette propped up between her lips. A nasty habit but he got the hint that she didn’t care.
“A place where I belong.” There was no point in sugarcoating it, out of all the cheesy movies he’d stayed up late to watch with Suguru, he hadn’t expected a goodbye quite like this.
“Cut the shit Gojo.” She steps up behind him, hands tucked right into her uniform pocket. It was the middle of the night, meaning she never actually came back to the dorms. “Last night you were talking about bringing peace to the world and now you’re hitchhiking out of here? What, is this because of the kid?”
“Amanai wasn’t the first, she won’t be the last.” He supplied dutifully.
“So you’re willing to become the enemy over a feeling?” The sky was solem. The stars hadn’t shined bright in a long time, but tonight they barely shined at all. It’s like the universe sensed his fall from grace.
“Everything has a purpose Ieiri, and all I can do is make things right.” He clutched his backpack straps, he knew he could never come back but he had made peace with that—more than anything he just wanted her to let him go.
“You think you can magically fix the world? That’s arrogant.” She scoffed. “Who died and made you king?”
Satoru couldn’t help but laugh at that. “The universe realized it needed someone, it fell, and made me a God.”
Shoko turned up her nose, it wasn’t like her to prod so much. “And Geto, what of his feelings?”
Satoru took in a breath. “He’ll be fine.”
“He’s your best friend.”
“I know.”
A silence hung between the two of them before she eventually let out a sigh, her patience was wearing as thin as the cigarette she was nursing.
“Do what you want, but you have too much to lose to be this reckless.” The wind stubs out the rest of the smoke from her cigarette, burns to embers, and she ditches it. Stomping it out. “When Geto wakes up I won’t cover for you.”
“Don’t.” Satoru looked up towards the stars before walking away. “This is all for him after all.”
He leaves Shoko in thought, standing in the remnants of what was once their home. A home was what you made it, and without the people there—it was a shell.
“Fuck, Satoru.”
March 2006, The official report from the Jujutsu Headquarters.
Satoru Gojo, a former third year Jujustu High student, was charged with the murder of The Star Religious Group.
His sentence: Death.
It shall be carried out by: Third year Yuki Tsukumo.
Three years later
. . .
The taste of curses never got any easier after the first time he gagged on it, vile and demeaning like it knew that Suguru would lose it in the toilet later. Gross he thought, pretty fucking gross.
After he graduated the raven-haired man decidedly went into the field of teaching, taking up a position as a special grade sorcerer. It wasn’t ideal and definitely wasn’t the first career path he thought of, but if there was a chance to make a teenager’s life significantly better with his help, he would take it. Because after all, he was a kid when it all went down. Satoru, was a kid.
“Geto.” Yuki cheerily called out behind him, though he knew well enough that she was anything but happy. “I got something for you, follow me.”
Against his better judgment he followed, Tsukumo was a woman of many words but Suguru never knew what to do with her. She was slippery and at times he didn’t know if she was for or against the jujutsu world.
Their mission wasn’t over with but he’d cleared out this sector of the mall. It had closed down a few years ago but the city planned on reopening it to the general public, something about increased revenue to the district. Not like it would fall into their pockets anyway.
“What are you doing here?” Suguru settled against the windowsill to look up at her with tired eyes.
“It’s about Gojo.” Suguru tensed and she pushed back blond strands, looping them around with her fingers. “I found him, he’s been all over Kyoto but he hasn’t been working alone.”
Suguru furrowed his brows. “That’s not like him.” He stood up all the way, his back ramrod straight and head shaking. “No, no, that’s not like him at all. What, is he rolling with Yakuza now?”
Tsukumo crossed her arms. “No, I would’ve found him much sooner if that were the case. Yakuza all the way out in Nagoya have close relationships with those in Kyoto, and those brats like to talk.” She shifted on one foot with a sigh. “They’re curse users, first grade and higher.”
“Shit.” Suguru ran his hand over the bun. Old but it never lost its novelty, the hairstyle was just as much a part of him as the curses he vomited up.
“You sure know how to pick him.” She jabbed an arm into his side, grinning widely, though it fell as quickly as it came. “That’s not what I meant by ‘what’s your type you know’?” I thought you'd go for a blond like me, you know I had a thing for you third year, but you were always with-“
“Tsukumo.” He said coolly, a stark contrast from the scene in front of him. “How much danger is Satoru in?”
“Yuki.” She corrected. The air in the complex felt dense from sudden change of conversation, a girl just wanted to have a little fun. “I’ve told you this for years, Geto.”
He shrugged. “Sorry but right now I still have a mission to complete, I don’t care what he’s doing.” Which was a lie yet he still kept up his front around her, but she knew. She saw through him like glass. “I just want to know if he’s safe or not.”
Tsukumo pursed her lips and sighed again, dramatically. “He’s safe Geto, but cursed spirits are crawling out of every nook and cranny at the opportunity to take him by surprise. They think that just because he left, he’s suddenly weak.”
Suguru cursed and rubbed his temples. “They think he got kicked out.”
“Precisely.” She hopped over to where he stood and leaned up against the windowsill. “Relax big guy, you’re so tense.”
He rolled his eyes. “Story of my life, is that all?”
She shook her head. “No actually.” She swallowed thickly. “I’ve been chasing leads for years and every time I think I’m close he’s two steps ahead of me. His eyes Geto, his eyes are not only seeing but feeling. This is the first real time that I can indefinitely reach the scene before him, but once I get there, what will I do?”
Suguru knew there was nothing she could do, he was Satoru fucking Gojo, he wasn’t the strongest for no reason. He looked over at the woman as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “What I’m saying is, Geto, I can’t kill him.” Tsukumo let out a humorless laugh. “And as much as I’d like that paycheck bonus, it’s damn near impossible! He’s so slippery, I just can’t catch him.”
He scoffed. “It took you this long to notice? You’re better off telling the higher ups to get someone else.”
“You know I can’t do that, they’ll demote me.” She bit down on her lip.
Suguru hummed. “That’s just the life of a sorcerer, Tsukumo.”
“Yuki.”
“Tsukumo sounds better don’t you think?”
Tsukumo scoffed but tilted her head to look at him. “I need you big guy.” He turned to look up at the woman, she was tall and coy. She could’ve been Satoru’s type, and that was something Suguru couldn’t help but dread thinking about. “He wants to rebuild jujutsu society and while he’s not wrong, his ideals are dangerous. He’s going to build the next generation from ash and set them aflame, I worry he seeks out to be the next Toji.”
Suguru looked over at her with widened eyes. “What?”
Her eyes softened but she continued to look at him neutrally, nodding. “Word on the street is that he carries around the gun Fushiguro used to..” Tsukumo stuck her thumb out and slid it across her neck. Suguru really, really, didn’t need the demonstration.
“I don’t see what this has to do with me.” Suguru stated plainly.
“Any way around it I only see one solution, you.” She pressed. “He’ll come if you call, you are his world.”
“He left without so much as a message.” Suguru stood up and turned to walk away. “Thanks, but you’ve got the wrong guy.”
Satoru was many things: beautiful, intelligent, stubborn. But the man that took Toji’s gun, the same gun used to kill Amanai, to slaughter the Star Religious Group, was not the same. And he surely didn’t need Suguru to tell him that.
“He’s suffering.” She called out from behind, which begrudgingly, stopped his movements. “Gojo looks skinner, street says that blue orbs turn red in the light of day. That power emanates from him like a fountain, a broken one. It’s everywhere, Geto. Do you understand? He’s burning himself out like a Goddamn asteroid in the atmosphere, he’s going to die.” Tsukumo threw out a hand in exasperation. “He’s killing himself to build a better world, stockpiling energy, dragging curses into his wake, the fucking money he’s burning through?? He’s planning suicide at the cost of rebuilding the world.”
“I’m not your guy.” He stated plainly and turned on his heels.”
“Geto!” She groaned and rolled her eyes.
The Satoru he knew wasn’t the same anymore, and honestly given the circumstances, Suguru knew if he went—he’d likely be required to return with his head. Geto couldn’t do that, he couldn’t give up on his students. And more importantly, he knew more than anyone that he couldn’t kill his best friend.
. . .
Though what Geto failed to realize was that this situation would become way worse, that Satoru was in a lot more than he could handle. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, cursed spirits destroyed towns and leveled cities—exposing the public and risking the solitude of the Jujustu world.
There were days Geto lay awake, black strands falling into his face as he looked at the picture of all three of them together. Satoru had raised bunny ears over Shoko’s head to which she’d punched him for, it was evident in the way the photo blurred. But Suguru just sighed at the two, Yaga had taken that picture.
Wherever Satoru was, he was capable of completing anything he put his mind to. There was no changing it, and Suguru wouldn’t dream of trying again. Wouldn’t dream of chasing stray trails under the watchful eye of Shoko to get him back, he tried for two years. It wouldn’t continue on.
. . . .
October 10, 2010
First year Student Inumaki Toge is placed in the medical ward of the Tokyo Jujustu school.
His injury details, two missing arms.
. . . .
Curses had begun attacking the school and Suguru had grown tired of exorcizing, waiting, absorbing, and then throwing up every curse that threatened Tengen’s barrier. His students were suffering and it reflected back on him, Inumaki was suffering and Suguru couldn’t help.
Even as he stood in the infirmary, he was at a loss for words.
“How is he?” He rasped out and slid his hands alongside the railing.
“The same as he was yesterday.” Shoko spun around in her chair and flicked the ashes off of the cigarette she was holding. “He’s fully healed, what else do you want me to do?” She scolded.
“I just want to know, I don’t want to leave before he wakes up.” Suguru looked off to the side. “Though it looks like I’ll have to anyway.”
Shoko raised an eyebrow before it looked like she was physically putting the pieces together. “You’re going after Gojo, aren’t you?”
“Shoko.“
“Oh no, this is rich. This is, this is really comical.” She took a drag from her cigarette, steam practically coming out of her like a teapot. “Oh I’m really laughing, are you serious Geto?” Shoko leaned forwards in her set, spinning the scalpel around in her free hand. “You want to track down Gojo, and for what? He’s not yours anymore.”
Suguru clenched his fists. “He never was mine and I won’t pretend that I even had a shot, Satoru was a lot of things but being interested in relationships wasn’t one of them.”
Shoko laughed dryly. “What can you possibly do? If you leave and don’t come back with him you’re a traitor, this is Yuki’s case.” She stressed.
“Come off it.”
“You won’t come back.”
Suguru turned to face her stone cold glare, she was pissed. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head incredulously but seemingly calmed down, going back to nonchalance as if a switch had been flipped. “Once you see Satoru you’ll take his side, do what you will.” Shoko stood up and placed her hands deep into the white coat, stepping over to check up on the child. “Go, and come back.”
Suguru didn’t warrant her any response and walked out, leaving Shoko to mull over a heart monitor while her own heart seemed to do backflips.
. . . .
Kyoto was a beautiful place, sadly curses racked every bit of the area. Satoru had an estate all the way out here thanks to his daddy’s money and it’s a wonder he even came back, were his parents involved in all this?
Suguru tracked through mountains, up and over hills, only to end up in a lovely garden. No cursed spirits, no guards, and no special grade sorcerers.
Just rows and rows of beautiful hydrangeas. Pillars surround the place and a stone pathway leads up to a marble water foundation, an angel pours water down from the top. It’s wings were shining brightly, but its halo was broken in half.
A place like this was so beautiful, so peaceful, so grand. All he saw was color, from the blue flowers to the black foundation. All the way to the unruly white hair that adorned the green kimono Satoru was wearing. There he was, in all of his bittersweet glory. A beauty that rivaled the Gods in both power and intelligence alone, Suguru could feel a rush of Nostalgia.
“Tsukumo was on my trail for a long time, thought I ditched her.” He watered the blue flowers, treating them as if they were delicate. “Turns out she stepped out of the way for you, didn’t she?”
“Give it up Satoru, your time causing trouble ends now.” Suguru wasn’t prepared to kill him, but he’d fight to at least bring him back. He’d take him to the elders and turn him over to Tegen. He’d spend the rest of his life being a life source, but at least he’d be alive.
“You’ve come to kill me, Suguru? I’m flattered, all of this effort for little old me.” When Satoru turned to face Suguru he got a face full of what Tsukumo said long ago, but this, this was much worse.”
His blue eyes no longer held the gleam of oceans but the nightmares from the depths of hell, red and lackluster. Satoru’s nails looked bitten and the way his kimono slipped off his shoulders Suguru could see just how much weight he’d lost. He looked ill. The strongest couldn’t look like this, shouldn’t, look like this.
“Come back with me peacefully.” He took a slow step in. “And we’ll work this out, the elders will take care of the rest.”
“Why now?” Satoru questioned and by the stone look on Suguru’s face, he didn’t know what Satoru was talking about. He just laughed softly. “Why did you come to get me, now of all times?”
“Stand down.”
“But I’m already standing Suguru.”
Suguru clenched his fists. “I don’t want to do this, just come on.”
Satoru shook his head. “This isn’t about the law, this isn’t about morales right now, it’s us.”
Us. What did that mean at some point, was it their time spent holding each other in the dorms? A lie.
“There is no us.” Suguru barked back.
“Then why are you here?” Satoru encouraged. “Why now of all times when you could’ve come here to get me, why now?”
“Because my students are in danger!” He threw his hands out in exasperation. “My students are in danger and I’m still here, exactly where you left me. And you and your arrogance has made it hard for jujutsu sorcerers to live and learn and grow, I didn’t come here now for a lack of trying. I tried for years Satoru, years.”
The other nodded and moved onto another plot of flowers to water. “You became a teacher?” He asked suddenly.
“Does that really matter? Out of all of this, that is what you got from that?” Suguru sighed in disbelief, his reasoning for coming here suddenly thrown out the window. Forgotten.
“What happened to your dream of being a writer?” Satoru inquired and in a time like this, the fondness in his voice is endearing.
“You happened, Satoru.” He scoffed. “I became what you were too cowardly to be, I took in the youth and cherished them instead of killing for them.”
“When it comes to nurturing the youth and being fair it is not acceptable to only be the judge, to maintain power you have to be the jury and the executioner.” He spat out, his playful demeanor long gone. But Suguru supposed it had been gone for years. “This isn’t about Amanai anymore, my wish of making the world a better place can not exist, cannot function if you only place belief in the weak. Fuck you and your moralistic values.”
Suguru bit down on his tongue. “What happened to you, Satoru? What happened to being a family at the academy, do your parents know about this?”
“My parents are dead.” The shell shocked look on Suguru’s face was amusing as it was vile. “I didn’t kill them, and even if I did it wouldn’t have made a difference. They intended to sell me as soon as I turned eighteen. You’re here to take me back to Tengen’s barrier aren’t you, to become a toy for the elders? Well, it ain’t happening.”
“How did you know that?” Suguru asked quietly and Satoru couldn’t help but laugh.
“You really don’t know? God I thought after all this time you’d learn, that you’d understand me.” He sneered in his direction. “After I killed the Star Religious group I found out that they had connections with my parents, the whole thing was a set up. To kill three birds with the same stone they made sure Fushiguro Toji would take the hit, kill Amanai, and then use me as the new vessel in the future. A person’s fate shouldn’t be decided by what they can offer to a barrier, that isn’t fair, Suguru! And the universe knew it, and from the very day I asked you to kill all of those people with me—the universe had been trying to tell me of the horrors, tried to warn me of my fate. Tried to protect me from becoming a vessel forever, Tengen’s personal barrier. Even when I die my body will be active and limitless will keep the barrier strong and the world out of balance. The elders have always known, you’re a pawn.”
Suguru couldn’t believe what he heard, and he meant that. He wouldn’t believe it. “You’re lying.”
“When have I ever lied to you Suguru?” Satoru stared right through him, anger and honesty brewing in his flamed eyes.
Suguru wiped his mouth with his hand in an attempt to mask the need to say never, and shoved it back into his pocket. “That doesn’t matter, what you’re saying can’t be true.”
“Oh come on!” Satoru shouted and Suguru felt himself flinch backwards, he’d never seen him so mad. “Do you think I made all of this up, do you think I’ve killed and have been willing to be killed all for a lie!? Open your eyes Suguru, you’re so caught up in good and bad, right or wrong, that you refuse to see the truth. This is why I left, this is why I always felt inferior to you. Because you think that moral code makes you better than me, that your shit must not stink because you wipe the seat down every time you go—well you’re wrong. I’ve watched people die time and time again by the hands of those old fucks, and you won’t get in my way Suguru.”
Suguru stood there in silence. Satoru felt..inferior? The Satoru Gojo felt inferior to him while everyone else in the fucking world would do anything to get Satoru’s attention, He of all people felt inferior. “Is this an ego thing for you, what, was the title not enough? Were you only strong because of what you were born as, or were your parents just gassing you up?”
The look of hurt on his face was enough to make him eat his words, but in truth he didn’t know why he said them. Satoru looked at him as if he was the monster.
”I hope a day comes where you’ll get everything you think I don't deserve and it is never enough. I hope the world burns around you and all you have left is your damn ‘morals’ and even then you have nothing, because at the end of the day while you’re surrounded by people who you think follow the word of God, they’re turning you into the most beautiful sinner. And I refuse to be kneeled at the confessional with you.” Soft tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes and Suguru opened his mouth to say something, anything.
Satoru flinched hard and blinked away from him, like his eyes were too much for himself. “You were everything I ever wanted and yet I couldn’t catch you, the way I loved and expected you to love me in return was selfish of me, but even now as you stand there I know I made the right decision. Because at the end of the day you’d never choose me, you’d choose the enemy. Kill me if you must, there’s a purpose in everything.”
He..loved him. “Satoru I-“
“Gojo.” Suguru’s eyes flew over to the small boy approaching them, though upon seeing the man he stopped in his tracks. Careful and untrusting.
“Megumi.” Satoru’s eyes fitted over to the boy and he set the watering can down. “What did I tell you about wandering this far out?”
Megumi looked strangely between the two before clutching the book in his hands. “I wanted to show you my shikigami, I finally made a wolf.”
Satoru smiled fondly at him and Suguru couldn’t figure out what that meant, what this new Satoru was emanating. It was danger but also tenderness. Like his heart had opened up from just himself to take on another, like a father.
Suguru’s mouth felt dry. “Is he..” Yours?
“Fushiguro Toji’s kid, he was sold off to the Zenin clan and I couldn’t have that now. Could I?” He gave the other a look. “What’s that face for Suguru?” He asked devoid of all emotion. “Is this not moralistic enough of me to take in not one, but two orphans?”
He sneered and stepped back, offering out a hand to which the boy walked up and grabbed. “I couldn’t leave him or his sister, they were too much like me. You have your reasons for becoming a teacher, and I have my reasons for becoming who I am. What will you do Suguru?”
Suguru couldn’t help but feel shame creeping down his spine, all this time he’d thought that Satoru was this monster, this low life that cared about no one but himself. He summoned one of his curses and Satoru didn’t so much as bat an eye, he placed a hand on the boy’s eyes to shield him and spoke firmly.
“If you’re going to kill me, kill me. There would be a point to it.”