Chapter Text
Gojo doesn’t like leaving you alone anymore. In fact, he’s made the executive decision that he won’t have you staying on Jujutsu Tech’s campus all by your lonesome anymore… so he moves you in with him for the time being.
You’d been apprehensive at first, but when Gojo gave you a particularly stern look full of emotion… you’d caved quite easily. It wasn’t until you’d spoken with Ijichi after that you’d learned he was the one to inform Gojo of your disappearance. You were only gone for an hour at the maximum. Gojo Satoru had used so much of his power just to travel through the immense amount of space between the two of you just to get to you in the shortest amount of time possible.
He has an apartment on the school’s campus. It’s nice, much nicer than anywhere you’ve ever lived in before, but it’s still missing that sparkle of home. It’s like it’s not even lived in in the first place. It reminds you of your house back in the domain, devoid of any personal objects and personality, devoid of life, of love.
The first night with him, you sit across from the man at his dining table. He wanted to make you tea, wanted to give you some sort of comfort, but Satoru has nothing to offer, not a single piece of luxury in his pantry. He’ll have to take you grocery shopping soon.
“So you’re really okay?” He’d been asking you the same question for the past three hours, since you woke up in the infirmary with Shoko, since you began walking with him to his home, since you got to his home… it’s like he can’t really, truly accept that he’s got you back now.
“Mhm… just a bit shaken up but I’m okay now. You’re here,” you smile softly. Truthfully, it hasn’t really set in yet. You’re preoccupied, mind only on the man across from you and the little wrinkle in his brow.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he’s been saying the same things over and over again, stuck in a loop. “If I’d been around you wouldn’t have…”
“Gojo-san,” you state his name carefully, he glances up at you. “You saved me, didn’t you? Because of you, nothing happened. I’m safe.”
“You shouldn’t have been placed in danger in the first place-!”
“It was my own fault. If I’d followed your rules properly, it wouldn’t have happened.”
“It’s not your fault, would you quit that?” He grits his teeth, leans forward, grips the edges of the table between his strong fingers. You can see the muscles of his forearms tensing. You try not to get distracted with the way his skin ripples under the force. (Why does it feel like you’re seeing him for the first time?) “The blame lies with me , I should’ve been there to protect you in the first place!”
“Why do you get to blame yourself but I don’t? By your logic, it’s not your fault either, Gojo-san.”
“Then whose fault is it?” The look in his eyes suggests some sort of stubborn confidence, like he thinks he’s pulled one over on you, won the battle. You frown, not enjoying this current back and forth. You want him to smile. You want the worry and anger and concern to twist away from his features… leave the man you adore alone.
“The higher-ups. The… whatever his name was, the old man. Them . Not you, not me, not Ijichi, Choso, or Yuji, them .”
Satoru stares at you, trying to maintain his control over the conversation, but ultimately he lets out a breath in defeat.
“Right. You’re right,” his voice is remorseful, soft, and you’re reminded of the way he reacted to you relaying the information of Yukito’s passing on. The way he got so angry back then, face so unforgiving… and then the flash of regret that followed as he told you he was sorry for interrupting your grief. “It doesn’t matter who's at fault, what matters is how you feel.”
“I’m okay,” you insist quickly. “I… just kind of want to rest. It’s late anyway. I’m… sure you’re exhausted too. We can talk all about what we did while we were apart tomorrow,” you push a smile, trying to pull on the positivity you feel for being with him again to carry you along.
“Yeah. Yeah we will… we’ll… we’ll get your teabox moved in here, get you some new clothes, get you all your tea stuff,” he’s rambling. There’s a spark of something in his eyes, some pretty blue shine that makes him seem a bit excited. You smile genuinely, relieved.
You fall asleep with only thoughts of Gojo Satoru on your mind.
You’re adrift in a sea of darkness.
You reach your hand out to try and push away a bit of the inky black fog but nothing happens. You wander a while, searching for any signs of life amongst the gloom but fail. You try to call for help but you are unable to hear your own voice. You try to scream but no sound reverberates or echos. You cry and yet nothing fades the darkness around you. Eventually, you give up, sit down and curl into a ball.
In the next moment, you find yourself as a dog sitting patiently, gaze never wavering from a closed door. You’re waiting for something, someone, and you’ve been waiting for a long time. You wonder what’s gone wrong, you wonder what you’ve done. Have you been bad? You thought you were being loyal, that good things come to those who wait, but the door doesn’t budge. Eventually, you lay down, gaze never faltering on the image of the entrance.
When the world shifts again, you’re a potted plant with no sunlight. Someone has placed you in a dark corner and you feel like you can’t breathe. Your leaves are withering away and you fear that soon enough your entire body will dry out and decay into nothing. You can’t move, so this time you only remain still.
Now you find yourself as a bird with a clipped wing. You’ve forgotten what it felt like to fly, what it felt like to have your hollow bones suspended in the air, feathers brushing brilliantly in the breeze. You’ve tried so many times to get up off the ground, to soar high above the clouds once more, but you remain grounded, unable to achieve the freedom you long for. No matter how many times you sing out your pretty little song, nothing changes. Eventually, you give up, resigning yourself to a fate of being swallowed up by a hawk.
You’re in a cage. Your head hurts, every muscle and bone and neuron in your body is screaming at you to move, to fight, to live , but you can’t. You’re frozen, unable to move and unable to speak as a figure slowly closes in on you. The dark shadow is stalking closer to you with every passing moment, slow and tantalizing and all you can focus on is how little space remains between you and the monster. You can’t cry for help, you can’t scream or make any pleads or demands, you can only sob and watch.
You don’t wake up until the figure has finally caught you.
Gojo Satoru is frantically jostling you as gently as possible, pleading and screaming for you to wake up, to come back to him and to say something , anything . His voice is frantic as you pant and gasp for air, unaware of the tears that are springing from your eyes or the way your chest is heaving up and down in panicked whines.
“Hey-!” Your vision is swimming, unable to focus on anything at all. You’re scared, you’re trapped-! You have to get out of here!
“Hey, shh, shh…” Satoru gently grabs the side of your face, pulls your head to look at him. “It’s okay… just look at me, focus on me.” You can just barely make out the sound of his voice in between the pounding beats of your heart in your ears. Listen to his voice, you like his voice, don’t you? It’s smooth, velvety and cunning, so controlled and mischievous. His other hand is gripping your shoulder, the strength not painful but not light enough to easily push away. It’s grounding, comforting.
“That’s it, that’s it… Good, good job. Just keep looking at me. My eyes right? Can you tell me what color they are?” You feel as if your brain doesn’t quite work, like you’re still paralyzed in fear, like you’re still trapped in a cage but… his eyes, you like his eyes, you know this one. You can answer this one.
“B-blue,” you stammer out initially, breaths slowing down. “L-like the sky. Blue like the sky… with… with clouds swirling around.” Satoru smiles weakly, reassuring.
“Right… that’s right. Good job,” you feel yourself bristle positively from the praise distantly. “And my hair? The color?”
You like his hair. You think it’s always a bit messy but you find the fact endlessly endearing.
“White. Like… um,” you pause, thinking as you blankly register where you are. You’re on a bed, comfortable and soft in a room you don’t really recognize. “Like easter lilies… or daisies,” you murmur, blinking owlishly. Your head hurts. You feel like maybe you’ve been crying a lot.
“Okay. Good… good job,” he nods, carefully brushing his hand through your hair. It feels nice. “You’re doing good. You’re almost back with me, aren’t you?” You nod slowly, action delayed and lost. “Good, good,” his voice sounds relieved, “what about… what do I remind you of?”
“Spring,” you answer immediately, the thought so natural it’s a bit shocking to the man across from you. “You remind me of spring.”
“Really…?” He’s a bit stunned, but shakes off the fluttering feeling in his stomach. “Okay… well…”
And when you finally come to, it’s like you’re seeing him for the first time again. He’s a light illuminating and dispelling the darkness, he’s the object of your loyalty, bursting through the door to greet you again, he’s the sun that you need to live, he’s an empathetic hand that wishes to keep you safe, he’s freedom . All of it is illuminated in those beautifully blue eyes, so gorgeous they should be their own gem in and of themselves. He calls your name, worried as you’ve gone silent.
You reach forward, lean your head on his chest and cling to him.
“Satoru,” you whisper his name so softly, content as you’re wrapped up in his scent, comforted by that woodsy cologne… that undertone of vanilla that you adore. He’s strong, reliable, but so sweet underneath it all and you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you love him.
“Are you okay?”
“I am now,” you murmur. Satoru’s heart skips a beat. He tries to stamp it down, forget about how all of this makes him feel but… he can’t. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you further against him and, for the time being, you feel whole .
“Bad dream?”
“Yeah. Bad dream.”
Satoru refuses to let you sleep alone after that. He whisks you away, pulls you into his bedroom and lays down with you, holds you protectively against him in the darkness. Not a single bone in your body wishes to refuse or protest. Every part of your soul is begging for him to stay with you, so you lay contently with him by your side. His scent is stronger here, comforting all on its own, but in his arms you feel a wave of security wash over you. You have a sense that nothing will ever happen to you should you stay right where you are right now and you don’t even think it’s wishful thinking.
You fall into a dreamless sleep.
Satoru watches you as you breathe evenly, lips ever so softly parted and face so vulnerable and gentle it's utterly beautiful. In all honesty, he’s frustrated. He’s failed you time and time again and even now, when he’d saved you just in time, you’d still put his feelings over your own. You’d been pretending, hiding and pushing off your thoughts simply to comfort him, despite the fact that you’re the one who just went through something horrific.
He’s torn between adoring and hating that part of you.
He sighs, ever the sound of a frustrated, caring lover with the greatest stressor in the world. He brushes his fingers against your cheek, touch light and totally enamored, grazing your hair and feeling the soft strands there. He stares down at your face, brows upturned and worry-filled but so, so loving.
“I’ll take care of you,” and it’s a relief so light and airy it may as well be written in the stars. “I promise.” The words are spoken to an unconscious you, unhearing and unseeing, but it’s a declaration so sweet and soft that Satoru feels all the weight atop his shoulders lift away. His past, every horrid and tragic piece of history in his bones… it all melts away with that simple promise.
“I love you,” he whispers to you in the darkness of his bedroom, so overwhelmed with the realization that you’re real, that it’s all been real. “I love you,” he chants the phrase like it, too, is a promise and it surely is. It’s a promise that he’ll never let go, a promise that no matter what, he’ll follow you, a promise that despite everything… he’ll still love you.
It feels good to say those words out loud, Satoru thinks in the stark void of his once lonely room. It feels good to admit all these things, even if you can’t respond.
For the first time in his life, Gojo Satoru falls asleep in warmth.
Satoru realizes that there are two very distinct versions of you in his memory.
Initially, he worries perhaps you are too much like Suguru - idealistic, forced into a broken world, innocence ripped away from you - but he comes to find that the sweet, joyful baker is still there underneath the surface.
He finds it in the way you curiously look at the world around you like you’re really, truly seeing it for the first time. He finds it in the way your eyes sparkle when you take in the sight of something pretty and intriguing. He finds it in the way you look up at him, eyes bright as you realize he’s here with you.
The initial time he sees it, he buys the first thing you set your eyes on.
You’d passed by a jewelry shop, taking in the storefront curiously and he’d asked if you wanted to take a look. You shook your head, saying very simply, “that’s a waste of money for someone like me.” What you meant by that, he’ll never know, because he pulled you inside without another word.
“Just take a look around, it’s fine,” he’d told you with a small smile. You’re wearing his clothes, he notes fondly again as he looks at you. His shirt, draped loosely over your form, his sweater, dangling off your shoulders. He feels an immense swell of cockiness well up in him.
“No, no, it’s okay, seriously. I don’t want anything,” you deny, eyes glancing around despite your refusal. Satoru, ever perceptive through the dark black of his sunglasses, sees the way your gaze fixates on a particular display. He tugs you over to it and you try to hide the way your eyes land on a bracelet, simple and silver in color with small opals littered across the chain. You look away quickly, but the small, split-second stare you provided was enough to confirm it.
“You like this one?” He points at the piece of jewelry and you shake your head immediately.
“No, no! Well… maybe, but it’s far too impractical for our work anyway!”
“Mm… that’s a fair point… what about a necklace?” He looks down at you, eyes alight behind his glasses, and you’re sure in that moment that if he were an animal, he'd surely be a dog wagging its tail, eager to please.
“I guess I can’t argue against that,” you murmur, unable to really lie in this situation. Satoru tugs you along excitedly at your confirmation, playing designer as he flits around the counters. You’re only half paying attention when he points at one he found. It’s pretty, simple just like you like, with a white opal, but it still doesn’t feel right. You shake your head, honest this time. Satoru frowns.
As your companion continues dragging you this way and that, your eyes catch onto a ring, stalling your movement as you catch sight of the glittering stone in the corner of your eye. Satoru follows your gaze, beaming.
And so, in that joyous little moment where Satoru sees the innocent glimmer return to you again, he buys you a ring.
Satoru buys you everything and anything. It makes you nervous, but you find that he’s loaded, like insanely so, and that at least eases your tension slightly. You can’t help but feel guilty, feeling like a freeloader as the two of you walk home together. The tall man beside you is holding countless bags of clothes and tea with no complaint, but you feel out of place.
There’s a nagging feeling in the back of your mind. You don’t really belong here do you? You don’t even know how to live and what had been three years out of this world, to you, felt like an eternity. You’ve been alone, tragedy after tragedy, you’ve always ended up alone and your only point of reference for creating false memories was the manga you’ve read. You’re losing yourself, coming to a standstill on the street, staring blankly down at the pavement.
Who are you? The anxious child playing around in the dirt because it’s safer than their home? The innocent little kid watching a singular movie over and over again in an empty hospital room? The sweet baker with dry hands and a confused mind? The tired, too wisened adult whose youth was stolen from them? The dangerous, independant sorcerer?
It’s been so long… is any of the way you’re acting now how you would react before?
And if that’s changed… what else has changed? You feel a shiver run down your spine, fear lighting in you. You realize, for the first moment in time, that you’re afraid of yourself .
If you didn’t have Yukito back then… if you hadn’t been stopped in your grief, what would’ve happened?
(The entire diameter here has been destroyed. This was all forest, lush, bountiful greenery and flora, and you’ve wiped it out entirely, leaving soil and dust in its wake).
You’ve never been afraid of this power. Ezra had taught you to control it, taught you it was always a vital part of yourself… and you’d believed you were weak, wholeheartedly. Yet such destruction was left behind by your hands. The purple, gooey substance, oozing between your fingers as you tear apart the curse that infected your domain, the sound , the screaming .
Ezra’s death was so similar. You’d never been able to find his body in the aftermath of that curse’s domain. One moment, he was there, pushing you aside and dropping his sword, and the next he was gone. You’d never felt rage before until the walls of that domain fell. You’d never felt such anger and hatred until you set sight on the curse and you tore it apart, tearing through flesh and ripping away fake bone like an animal, a monster .
And then, at the end of it all, there was nothingness. Just a disgusting, sick mixture of red and purple pooled at your feet, staining your hands. That was all you had left of him.
Should you have let that man execute you?
There’s a hand on your shoulder, a voice in your ear. You’re being led somewhere. You must’ve blacked out because you’re in an entirely different area now. Satoru is holding your hand, anxiously leading you away. You don’t feel anything. Normally, he feels so warm, but right now… you just feel so empty, so cold.
You’re sat on a bench, feeling as if your ears are stuffed full of thick cotton. You can’t make out what Satoru’s saying to you as he kneels in front of you, holding your hand and playing with the little ring he’d bought you. Your mind eases for a second. His brows are furrowed, a crease between them as he talks and talks and talks. You reach a hand out without thinking, smoothing that little crease out and he looks up at you in surprise.
You stare at each other for a moment.
“Can you hear me?”
You nod weakly. He lets out a sigh of relief, your hand drops to your side, he takes it in his.
“What happened there?” You don’t respond, lost in a field of swirling clouds. It’s strange. Every time you look at him, you feel as if you’re wading in the blue of his eyes, floating on the top of the water aimlessly. It kind of hurts that you can only feel a little bit of that right now. He squeezes your hand, grounding you in the moment.
“Satoru,” he hums in response but can’t suppress the shiver that goes down his spine as you call his first name so casually. “Am I a bad person?”
His heart seizes. You’re staring at him, searching for an answer, blank-faced and so, so lost and he sees a flicker of Suguru in you. He kind of wants to puke, but he pushes through it, forces himself to remember that you are not the same. You’re entirely new to this world. You’d never hurt someone like Suguru would.
“No.” And his voice is so sure that you feel your breath hitch and a spark return to your chest.
“But I’m dangerous, aren’t I?”
“So am I. So are all of us.”
“But-”
“But what? There’s no but’s.” You’re silent for a second, brows furrowing, a good sign. You’re coming back to him.
“That… forest,” Satoru tries to rack his brain for what you could be talking about, but thankfully you clarify. “The one outside the domain.”
Scorched Earth, fallen trees, a hole of decay and destruction, looking as if a vortex erupted and tore out a whole chunk of the planet. Satoru had been unnerved by the sight of it, unnerved by what it meant , what it symbolized . Right there, you’d exploded, lost yourself completely. He’s an idiot for not thinking about it before.
“You lost yourself. I would’ve done the same if it were me.” He leans forward, looking up at you seriously. “You are not dangerous. You’re amazing. So strong. And you saved me, remember? You’re a good person.”
His words sink into your mind. Yeah… yeah that’s right. You did save him, didn’t you? And that kid… and you’re going to save the girl too. You remember your final talk with Yukito, your forest stroll with Choso, your many, many interactions with the man in front of you now. You think of Yuji, war-torn and grieving the life he’d lost. You think of Megumi, the child you revived into a world he despises. You think of the girl in the infirmary, the four older students.
Yeah… you want to keep living. How could you have forgotten?
“Right,” you muse, squeezing his hand back with a tiny, almost microscopic smile, “I did save you.” Satoru grins, heart hammering wildly against his chest at the simple sight of that little quirk of your lips.
Things grow a little easier after that.
Satoru is incredibly opposed to your idea. You promise him every single second that you’ll be okay, that you’re not going to be snuffed out, that you aren’t going to leave, blah, blah, blah, but he’s still an anxious frenzy as you sit in a chair beside a bed in the cold infirmary. Honestly, you hold your tongue on it but you truly believe Miss Ieiri is running more of a morgue than a nurse’s office.
Said woman sits beside you and Satoru hovers nervously behind you as the three of you wait for one of his students.
“You promise you’ll be okay this time, right?” Satoru whispers to you. Miss Ieiri scoffs.
“If you say that one more time, I’m going to go smoke a pack outside.”
The boy finally enters into the room, seeming a bit… shy.
“Ah, you’re all here?”
Satoru, too busy fretting over you, doesn’t even react. You look at the man with an exasperated glance and stand, stepping forward to greet the boy. He’s taller than you but he looks so tired.
“It’s nice to meet you, Okkotsu,” you extend your hand for the boy to shake. He smiles sheepishly, returning the gesture.
“Yes, it is. Are you recovering well?”
“I am, thank you for asking. I hope you are too.”
Okkotsu Yuta is a little surprised, though he hides it well. He didn’t expect the newly crowned ‘second-strongest’ to be so… kind, personable. In fact, you look the same bit as shy as he is. Though, the real surprise comes in the form of one particular man in the room. He’s never seen his teacher’s hands shaking before.
“Now, I think we should start, as long as the two of you are ready?”
“Please,” the nurse practically begs. She hates seeing Satoru all clingy. Makes her want to vomit (though deep down she really is warmed by the sight). You flash her an apologetic smile.
You sit back down beside the girl’s lifeless body. The corpse hasn’t decayed a single bit over the months that had passed since her departure. The technique used on her is specific, strong and surprisingly long-lasting, but overall, it’s a perfect coincidence and your highest chance of success. You’ll have to thank the boy they told you about later, or at least the sister that works at your current residence.
Satoru watches you closely, unable to shake the crippling uneasiness he feels, knowing you’re going down the same damned path that got you killed in the first place. Your expression and demeanor has gotten serious and the entire room shifts, both Yuta and Shoko now having grown silent and focused, solemn. He trusts you, of course he does, but he also doesn’t at the same time. You have a big heart and he fears you’d give yourself up for the girl laying there again if it came to that.
“You know if I see you wobble even once I’m stopping you, right?” His voice is stern, quiet, but there’s a sense of vulnerability and fear in it, one that silently shocks the other occupants of the room.
“I know,” your response is equally surprising. The calm, soft lilt to your tone so… personal. “I’ll let you. I’m not going anywhere.” You tilt your head back to look up at him one final time, a soft smile playing on your lips. Satoru feels his tension ease slightly, but that same fear is in the back of his mind. He needs to keep seeing that smile until the day that he dies. He can’t take losing you again.
Satoru lets out a huff, and with that you take a deep breath and begin.
“So,” you begin explaining to the two sorcerers, reminiscent of the way you did so with Yuji for Megumi. The thought makes Satoru’s stomach churn. “Basically, you’ll be funneling reverse curse technique through me, but I’ll be the one applying the energy to her. Okkotsu,” the boy looks up at you and nods, attention focused and serious, “you can think of it like how you apply energy to a sword, if you’re familiar.”
“Right.” The boy follows well, stepping up beside you, to your right. Shoko stands to your left, eyeing you and the girl.
“This really works, huh…” her fingers itch for a cigarette. She feels oddly nervous and she can’t exactly pinpoint why. It’s not like she wants to think about it anyway.
“Ieiri-san?” She hums in return. “Are you ready?” She sighs and places her hand in position, hovering over yours.
“Yup.”
“Okkotsu?” The boy follows the same action, lifts his hands to hover over yours like Shoko did. Satoru stiffens behind you, clenching his teeth.
“Yes!”
You take a deep breath and close your eyes for a moment. This isn’t going to end like it did before. You have far more energy, you’ve been recovering for the past weeks, regaining power to give it up for this girl and you’re going to succeed. You don’t have a magical ancestor to fall back on this time, but you can practically feel Yukito cheering you on from some afterlife. You think maybe Ezra and his family are watching you now too, proud of seeing the technique and strength he’d instilled in you.
You’re going to do good in this life. You’re going to have something good to come home to. You’re going to save people and you’re going to protect the children here, give them a better life than they’ve had. You open your eyes, gazing at the wound on the girl’s face, the gorey, misshapen corpse of a child, and you know you’re going to love seeing her live.
“Now, please.”
And it lights with such vibrant energy, flowing into you. This time, it feels light, airy, not as frantic and scary as it had before. Instead of fear and panic, you feel… calm, like you’re floating in the air, carefree like you’re simply a cloud. You think of Spring, you think of the meadows and fields and flowers and trees, swaying in the wind. You think of laying in a bed of grass, looking up at the blue sky and watching as the clouds swirl and pass you by, so slow and steady it makes your heart soar.
As you connect to the girl’s soul, you can see all her joy, all her care and love for the world. There are so many people she’d let into her life, so many people that had pulled up a seat in her world against all her wishes and made her feel proud . She’s prideful, stubborn, causes a ruckus, but she’s so… honest, so full of life and joy and when you finally see the scene of her death through her eyes, your eyes drift closed in thought.
A transmutation technique… her body was killed upon impact, but the boy got to her moments after. Having been frozen in time for so long, your energy tells you it’s just enough. It’s perfect and the power begins to flow out of you in calm, swirling waves. It is measured, careful, and Shoko, the healer that she is, has never seen something so remarkable before. Your entire being, your entire aura, she can feel it. It’s… calm, warm, and so, so loving for a sorcerer in this world. This semblance of connection… it’s something she’s never felt before.
Okkotsu feels rather similar. It’s like he can see the very nature of your soul, like the whole world has been laid out in front of him. It’s remarkable, yet so overwhelming at the same time. This amount of sight… he wonders if it’s how Gojo feels with his Six Eyes. He thinks your technique would be impossible to copy, for he might just crumble under the weight of seeing all of time laid before him.
It’s a power of sight, a power of connection, of reaching forth and observing the very nature of one’s soul. It’s the denial, the unwillingness to accept the world as it is, the strength to overcome and the strength to choose a different future in spite of the fear. It’s the ability to change .
Your companions seem to know exactly when the process is finished just as you do. The girl before you… her skin molds back into place and remarkably she begins to breathe again, returned right back to the very moment she was taken from the world. Remarkably, this time around you are completely fine albeit tired. Satoru hovers still, gaze focused and lingering on your eyes, noticing the slight bags that have appeared underneath, but you pay him no mind.
As the girl begins to wake, you choose to hobble to the side, grab a water bottle on Ieiri’s desk. You watch with an exhausted smile as she slowly begins to wake and blink blearily at the three people in front of her.
“...Sensei? But I thought you were…” Satoru glances at you one last time, still seeming worried to you. He slips on a thin veil of a mask, grinning at the girl.
“Nope! I got out. Lot’s happened, though.”
“Wait,” the girl sits up abruptly, alarmed, “Itadori- he was-!”
“Itadori is fine too, Kugisaki.” Ieiri interrupts. You look to the side. Okkotsu, the boy, sidles up beside you, standing politely. He seems to know this isn’t a conversation for the two of you to really be a part of, just as you do. He’s a bit taller than you, so he leans a bit and looks down.
“Are you alright?” He whispers to you, voice kind and careful. “I heard you lost consciousness when you resurrected Fushiguro.” You smile. What a sweet boy. You’d died , not simply fainted , but perhaps that wasn’t made common knowledge? You’d have to ask Satoru later.
“Yes, thank you. I was spent last time from using my domain right before. I’m… just a bit tired now, is all.” He nods in response. You both look on as Satoru and Ieiri carefully explain a few things to the girl, Kugisaki. You think of Itadori, the poor boy who’d had his whole life torn from his hands so easily. You think of him and the boy you saved before, wonder if this will change his mind, help him live. You think of all the other children you’d seen getting hurt that day, how the one beside you fought until the bitter end.
“You and Sensei are close,” you look over, surprised by the almost fond tone of his observation. His eyes are locked onto Satoru ahead, face littered with semi-faded scars, face serious. “He seems… happier lately.” Okkotsu turns to you with a small smile. “Thank you for saving him. Sensei… means a lot to all of us. He saved me and so I owe him a lot, but he’s always seemed to keep us at an arm’s length.”
You hum, looking back at the man that’s captured your heart so easily in the time you’ve been together. You wonder what he was like before, in his natural habitat with these children. They make it sound like he was… sad. Like he’d been longing and craving connection but never allowing it to come to him.
“He’s more open now, though. I’ve never actually seen him worry in front of me.” He laughs lightly to himself. “He’s the strongest… so he carries that burden. I’ve always tried to catch up to him, but I think you ran straight ahead of me.”
Catch up to the strongest? Are you really strong enough to shoulder that burden with him? To hold his hand and walk that path together?
“He saved me too, really,” you whisper. “I fully intend to protect his world. And that includes you and the other students and children. It’s the duty I’ve taken on.”
“It’s your world too.” Satoru’s voice jolts you out of your thoughts, not having noticed him walking up to you. He stands up close to you, tilting your face this way and that as if inspecting you with a pout on his face.
“...Right. Our world…” You mumble around puffy cheeks. He lets out a satisfying hum in response. You’re unable to see, but the girl sitting on the bed gapes at the sight before her. This , by far, is the most unbelievable thing she’s heard all day.
“You’re really okay…?” His blue eyes are still swimming with worry, continuously cycling through every horrible scenario where you faint and fall away from him again.
“I promised, Satoru,” you’d taken to calling his first name recently. It’s probably ever since the first night you slept together, if you had to recall, but for some reason it just feels right. Satoru, of course, is delighted by it.
“You did.” You smile fondly in response, grabbing his hand from your chin and lowering it, trying to soothe him. You hear a squeak of shoes and a slam of a door. You look up rapidly.
It’s Yuji. He’s standing frozen in the doorway, eyes blown wide in disbelief as he stares at Kugisaki’s lounging form on the infirmary bed.
“Man, what happened to yo-” the girl’s words are cut short as Yuji disappears in a flurry of motion, barrel rushing her in a hug. You watch, trying not to get emotional yourself, as the two reunite, a crying Yuji clinging to Kugisaki, who looks torn between upholding her dismissive demeanor and genuinely letting herself go. You grab Satoru’s arm, hugging it gently.
You feel a sense of accomplishment wash over you. You’ll do everything in the world if it means these children will get to smile together one last time, you’ll find any small thing in the vast space of the universe just to give it to them if they asked. And standing beside Satoru, you feel that maybe, just maybe, you’ve finally found a home.
After an emotional meeting, Yuji turns his gaze to you and you hold your breath. He runs up to you and pulls you into a hug, crying against you. Your composure and resolve breaks as he clings to you, thanking you over and over again. A small smile and tiny tears carry you as you rub his back soothingly.
“You’re supposed to focus on her, right now,” you whisper gently. “Not me.”
“B-but… I-I’m just so thankful,” his words are blubbery, like a babbling child, but it only makes the feeling in your chest swell. Satoru watches on softly. The image of you interacting with his kids is just about the best gift he could have ever received. It’s remarkable how attached he’s gotten to you over the false month in your company.
“It’s okay,” you soothe, “you can thank me some other time, okay?” Begrudgingly, he relents and lets go of you, walking back to Kugisaki. Satoru pulls you against his side, wiping the stray tears from the corners of your eyes with a smile.
“I’m proud of you,” he whispers. Your heart swells again.
“Thanks,” you murmur, hugging him. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent happily as you cling to him.
Deep down, seeing his world like this, getting to influence it and experience everything, you feel you’ve finally found a place to belong. Satoru’s arms feel like home, Yuji’s smiling face makes you come to a realization. After all of your life, your mother, losing Ezra and later Yukito, you’ve always longed for love, for family. You’d had such a substantial taste of it with Ezra that all you longed for in your domain was love, connection, family .
And now, in the cold infirmary filled with Yuji’s sobbing voice and Kugisaki’s reluctant yells, you smile. You look up at Satoru and he returns your gaze, fond.
You’ve found a family.
You’re at home with Satoru, holding an ornate tea box in your hands. You gaze down at the intricate painting, the detailed metalworking, the expert, love-filled craftsmanship. You hug it against your chest for a moment, Satoru places his hand on the small of your back, gentle and reassuring. Finally, you take a deep breath and settle the box onto the counter.
Neither of you speak for a moment. The action is symbolic, meaning a whole lot more than a collection of tea. It’s proof that this is now your home, that Satoru and you live together, not just as a temporary solution, but as a future. It’s still blurry, whatever lines there are between you two, but you know this is significant. It’s a symbol that you’re a permanent fixture in his home, in his life .
After a while, Satoru tugs on your side, wrapping his arm to rest on your side.
“Come on,” he whispers with a smile, feeling incredibly giddy with this new development. Your things litter his home now, you even share the same closet since you’d said it was inconvenient to use the spare when you sleep in the same room as him. He’s yet to get you a few plants for the house, but he’s sure you’ll go out together when the time’s right. Just replacing your wardrobe was enough to set you into a spiral, so he’s gotta be gentle.
He leads you to the living room and sits you down on the couch. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, like he’s planning something, and he motions for you to stay put as he scampers off somewhere in the apartment. When he returns, he’s holding a DS in his hand, the same color as the one you’d provided him in your domain. Your eyes widen, he sits down beside you, side pressed against your own.
“A DS?”
“Yep! I…,” his expression darkens for a moment. “I got it while you were… asleep . I stopped when I got back to where we ended, cause I wanted to fulfill that promise we made.”
For a moment, you feel as if you could cry. It’s such a simple, easy gesture, but the meaning is so profound. The height of your innocent relationship with Satoru in the domain, when both of you were oblivious to the darkness, just living a happy, domestic life, it’s all wrapped up in that tiny little moment. Promising to have a wonderful evening in, finishing the game you’d played together and then never having been able to. Back then, neither of you were ready to admit to yourselves what was going on. Neither of you were willing to admit the feelings brewing under the surface, but things were simple, easy.
After you woke, none of it was easy again. But now, leaning your head against Satoru’s shoulder as you watch him navigate the game with the same exact Pokemon he had before, you think maybe, just maybe, your life with Satoru is easy.
Satoru and you take frequent walks around the campus. Jujutsu tech is remarkably pretty and you enjoy the forestry even more now that Satoru is by your side again. You have breakfast with him and Ijichi that morning, the taller man still a little skeptical of the two of yours’ relationship. He attempts to make it subtle (he doesn’t), but the way he slings his arm over your shoulders and stares down his junior is enough of an obvious hint for the man to leave. It’s not like he has anything to worry about right? You’re wearing the ring he bought you, a fact that brings him an immense amount of smug pride, and even if it’s not on the correct hand, surely someone would be warned off by it.
The two of you are walking along one of the main paths by the dorm buildings when you hear a commotion. You pause, looking for the source of the noise, when you recognize the black-haired boy you’d saved trotting out towards you. Immediately, your eyes widen and your palms grow a bit sweaty. A frantic Kugisaki and Yuji run out after him, trying to stop him but he doesn’t oblige.
The boy stops in front of you, staring up into your eyes with a gaze that is as unwavering as it is intimidating. He means business and you tense beside Satoru. For a while, it’s silent, his friends unsure and nervous behind him, but finally, the boy speaks.
“Thank you.”
Every single person in the vicinity is shocked. He’s… thanking you? (“ Fushiguro refused to visit you”). That’s what Yuji had told you when you first woke. The boy blamed you for making him live in a world he now hated. But now, his thanks… it means he’s taking a tentative step forward. You simply nod your head, knowing that this olive branch is still incredibly fragile. It could break at any moment, and you’re going to prevent that from happening for as long as you can help it.
With that, he marches back inside, leaving Yuji and Kugisaki stunned in his wake. After a second, they run back after him, leaving you and Satoru alone again. You look up at him and he smiles fondly down at you, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair.
Classes resume after that. You’re present as something of a mentor figure, not exactly a teacher, but clearly not a student. You actually get to learn a lot about jujutsu society as you sit and listen to Satoru speak, and you find it interesting, though the darkness is not lost on you. When it comes to battle, you can lend more of a hand, but your technique is currently on hold after saving Kugisaki.
Regardless, you enjoy being a part of it all. It’s nice, helping out Satoru and getting to be a part of his day, a part of his life.
On one occasion, Satoru perks up during a break and bounds over to you.
“I just remembered!” He pulls out a sleek device from his pocket and hands it to you. It’s a smartphone. You stare at it for a moment, blinking owlishly. “Obviously we don’t really need it since you’ll be coming with me on any of my trips now,” (you are?), “but I still thought it’d be good for you to have for the kids.”
“Oh. Right… thank you.” You stare at it for a moment longer and then slip it into your pocket, the intrusion feeling foreign and strange. God you’re so adorable… Satoru feels his heart seize at every tiny little detail or quirk you show off.
You don’t try to investigate it until you’re bored the following day during another break. You had a hard enough time just opening the phone, but navigating literally anything feels impossible. You know the little speech bubble icon must be the illusive ‘text’ feature you hear so much about, but when you press on it, you don’t know how to send such a thing. You poke at the device, hitting random buttons to simply see what happens until you hear a scoff.
“What in the world are you doing? You look like a geezer!” Kugisaki stands in front of you, hands on her hips as she looks down at you distastefully. You’ve come to understand her personality a bit. She’s very loyal but also incredibly extreme and a bit bossy. It’s an interesting blend that’s uniquely her.
“I’ve never had a phone before,” you explain with a sheepish smile. You feel as though you’re about to get schooled by the youth of today… ugh… you feel old. “Sat… er… your Sensei wants me to learn how to text and call.”
“What?!” She gets behind you, looking over your shoulder. She snatches the phone from your hand. “What in the world did you even do on this thing?! It looks like a toddler got a hold of it!!” She furiously swipes and taps until your screen is cleared of junk and shows it back to you. Ah… you feel like you know how Ijichi feels when talking to Satoru now.
She explains to you how to call people, thankful that all the contacts you need are already in the list thanks to Satoru’s guidance. Said man watches quietly from the doorway. Yuji and Megumi are engaged in their own conversation as Kugisaki berates you over having lived under a rock. He can’t help the fond smile that flits across his lips as he witnesses the interaction. While the girl explains the text feature, he feels a buzz in his pocket.
He pulls out his phone, finding a cute little text from you, simple with a ‘hi’ and a wave emoji. He looks up, finding you smiling sweetly at him. Kugisaki watches, appalled as Satoru returns with a grin and a flick of his wrist.
“Okay now there’s no way in Hell that I’m letting you walk out with a default wallpaper.” She navigates across the phone at a speed that is blinding to you, unable to process a single movement she makes. “Boys!” Fushiguro and Yuji look up as she beckons them over. “Sensei too!” You stare, confused, as the group carefully maneuvers behind you and Kugisaki holds the phone out. You can see yourselves in the camera of the phone. What a strange feeling.
You follow suit as the others smile and in a flash, it's done. Later, you’ll gaze down at the wallpaper and smile, looking at the way Satoru makes silly rabbit ears with his fingers behind your head, at the way even Fushiguro, the boy who once hated you, smiles softly while the other three beam.
“Now what about your lock screen? It’s gotta be something that you’d want to stare at everyday.” Unconsciously, your gaze drifts to Satoru. Your trance is broken as he looks over at you and smiles.
“Come on, you,” he waits for you by the door, “let’s get something to eat, yeah?” You grin and stand, already having forgotten about the little device.
“What’re we having?” The two of you exit, engaged in a strangely domestic discussion about something as simple as dinner . The three children you’ve left behind stare dumbfounded at the door. Kugisaki is the first to speak.
“I don’t know whether to be giddy or disgusted.”
Working in the aftermath of the war is hard. While you weren’t a direct part of it, you still help tie up loose ends where you can. In addition to your help teaching with Satoru, you begin going on missions with him and the children. He still doesn’t quite allow you to be left alone without him, but you don’t really find it in you to mind. It means you get to spend every waking moment with him.
Right now, you’re standing beside Satoru at a grave. The name, Geto Suguru, is engraved into the cool rock of the headstone, and you give Satoru space for a while. You’d been here when they buried him, watched the man devolve into emptiness for a moment. It’s gotten easier, you think, and you’d only made the trip out here because Satoru had wanted to put in a planter.
You don’t question it. You know about the man, the pain he had instilled into your… (for a moment, the word for your relationship with Satoru escapes you), companion and you know quite well that Satoru needs some sense of closure. This, you suppose, is the best way.
You’re far enough away that you don’t hear the words Satoru speaks to his best friend, late friend, he reminds himself.
“You know,” he waters the plant you’d helped him pick out, doing just as you’d instructed, “I think I dreamt of you when I died.”
He’d remembered the moment vividly for some reason. A slash, tearing him in two, and then a lightness. The airport, with Suguru at his side, an older time, a happier time.
“I wonder if it was really you or not. If it was, I hope I got to say a better goodbye to you that time.”
Silence fills the space. He’s reminded that Suguru really won’t respond to him. The realization, however stupid, twists a dagger of pain into his heart. He sets the watering can down for a moment, sits over top his idiot friend’s grave.
At one point, he would have been glad to have been buried with him.
“I met someone,” Satoru murmurs to the stone. “They’re strong. Like you were.”
Everyone perceives Satoru as being at the top of the world, but Satoru only felt like that once in his life. With Suguru.
“They’re sharing the burden with me. It makes me happy. I feel like I can be me again.” He lets the words reverberate in the silence for a moment. He can feel your presence very clearly wandering the cemetery, watering other family’s flowers. He glances at you for a second, smiling. “They’re kind. Wholeheartedly good. I see bits of you in them sometimes.”
“I wonder if you would’ve liked them?” He hums to himself, thinking that… nah. It doesn’t matter. “Guess you wouldn’t care too much about my love life, huh?”
‘Love life’. Yeah… that’s the right word for it, he muses to himself as he glances at you again. You’re frowning at a half-dead plant. He half expects you to use your power to fix it.
“You know, sometimes I wish I would’ve died with you back then,” he laughs to himself as you yelp when a leaf falls from the wreck in your hands. “But when I see their face, I take all of it back. I’m happy to be alive right now. My time isn’t up. They made sure of that without even knowing me.”
He takes a deep breath, the flashes of his youth flitting across his vision. Suguru’s defection, his betrayal, the happy times that had been so quickly ripped from Satoru’s hands. Perhaps it’d been doomed from the start. Regardless of what Suguru became, Satoru has to think of the version of him that he fell for all those years ago. His best friend. Once, his one and only.
“We’re trying to carry on your wishes. The kids should be able to be kids and sorcerers shouldn’t be used like tools.” He traces the stone with his finger blankly, feeling the indentation of Suguru’s name and death. December 24th. “That was your wish, remember? I wish you would’ve remembered it back then, but I guess you weren’t really you by that time anymore.”
It’s true. Suguru had left out of disgust for how sorcerers were being treated, trying fervently to create a society where kids like him wouldn’t be mistreated anymore. Instead, he made a world where the students Satoru taught were nearly killed by the curse user’s hands.
“...I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”
Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest?
“Yeah, that’s not right. I wish you would’ve let me save you.”
Satoru stands, grabs the watering can and casts a glance over at you. Remarkably, the plant before you is in perfect condition. Cheeky. He saw that.
The man takes a deep breath, beginning to walk away with his head held high. The only farewell he provides is one last cursory glance and a lazy wave of his hand.
“See you, old friend.”
Instead of withering in the past and hoping for an end, Gojo Satoru joins you with a smile, seeking a new promise, a new life, and a new beginning.
Satoru asks you about it on the way back home. You’re nestled against each other as a train takes you back into Tokyo. He hadn’t wanted to involve Ijichi in this one.
“You’re not upset?”
You blink owlishly, tilt your head and hum in confusion.
“About the… cemetery?”
“Upset? Why would I be upset?”
There’s plenty of reasons, he wants to tell you. Suguru had been his love, his blue spring, his… everything. Even in the roughly 12 years without him, Satoru had thought of him often, longed for a life where they didn’t have to be separate, but he knows he can’t forgive him for the lives he’d taken.
“He was… you know,” he doesn’t really know what to call it. You hum again, look forward in thought. The way the scenery passes by is rather scenic. It reminds you of your trips with Ezra way back. It feels like it’s been so, so long since you had one of those.
“He was your past,” you state bluntly. Satoru looks at you intently. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
And there isn’t, truly. You find no issue with it. You know the relationship had been special, that it was something the man beside you had yearned for for ages, but it has nothing to do with you.
“We are who we are because of our past experiences. Time shapes and erodes us, forms our futures. So… you are who you are because you loved him and you are who you are because you lost him.”
Satoru feels his heart beat fast, his gaze locked onto you. You’re so… captivating. So amazing, so… so… he can’t even form a word that could begin to describe you.
“So,” you turn to him and grin. You don’t smile as often anymore, but when you do, it’s the brightest thing he’s ever seen. “I get to know this wonderful man because of it all!”
And just like that, your words flip a switch in Satoru’s mind. Geto Suguru may have been his past, may have been the man he longed for for over ten years, may have been his very heart and soul at one point, but that’s it. Geto Suguru is Satoru’s past. And right now, it’s quite clear to him that his future is standing right in front of him, beaming with that beautiful smile that could spread light on the darkest aspects of this world. You are Satoru’s future, and he’s sure it will be lovely.
Tentatively, he takes your hand in his. Intimacy is strange between the two of you. You sleep together every night, but the simple act of your hand in his feels different but so right . You make no protest, of course. Instead, your heart lets off hundreds of tiny little sparks in your chest. God, you’ve got it bad. He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand, content.
“Thanks,” he whispers. You squeeze his hand in response. His heart flutters.
“Anytime.”
Things remain complicated between you and Satoru.
Constantly, you’re standing at some sort of an impasse. Both of you know this surely can’t just be a friendship, can’t just be a codependency born from nothing but a strange shared trauma, but neither of you gather enough courage to cross the cavern between you. Day by day, it’s beginning to rip you apart inside.
You really never leave each other’s sides. Time is passing and everything just feels so wonderful. The fear and emptiness you’d felt when he was away is no more. You don’t have to worry about it, because you know Satoru will always be there beside you now, and you’re happy with that, content with that. Until you aren’t.
You find your gaze lingering on him. You find that, during his lessons, when he does a little animated pose to encourage the kids, you want to kiss that silly smirk on his face. You find that you want to tackle him in a tight embrace whenever he sends you dumb texts from across the room, simply because he can. You find that, more than anything in the world, you just want to keep being a part of his life forever.
It starts with a misunderstanding.
You’re getting takeout after work one day. You hate the noise, so you always stay right outside the door of the restaurant, watch Satoru go in, order, and flash you a smile through the window. This event goes similarly, just as normal, until a woman goes up to him on the other side of the glass, pulling out her phone and looking all… shy.
Satoru laughs brightly, that laugh you thought was yours , and grabs the girl’s phone. Your stomach drops, and suddenly you feel as though your entire world has been tossed away.
You’d never even considered the thought that Gojo Satoru would leave you. You’re left frozen, dumbfounded, and strangely angry. You know you have no reason to be, not when you and Satoru aren’t actually dating or anything. You don’t know why you fell into such a simple pattern of thought with him. Why did you think it would be possible?
(If it’ll really all end one day… what’s even the point of trying?)
You feel as though you’re going to cry.
And then, suddenly, there he is in front of you, cheering with a bag of food in his hand until he sees the pale look on your face and frowns worriedly.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
You want to brush it off, you want to toss it away, not to think about it, not to confront it. You want to rot away and you want to give up.
“What’s gotten into you? Did you see something?”
Satoru’s mind is reeling. He drops the bag of food, uncaring about the contents as he carefully grips your shoulders. What happened? He hadn’t felt anything, seen anything, so why-
(“Love makes us strong. It makes everything worth fighting for.”)
Fighting for… that’s right. You were going to fight for your life. Yukito had asked you to keep living, and with Satoru you had wanted to. But… you don’t know if you can without him.
“That girl…” you whisper reluctantly. Are you making a mistake by bringing this up?
“What about her?” His tone isn’t defensive. It’s open, honest. Gentle.
“You… grabbed her phone.” Satoru blinks for a second.
Shit. How had he been so stupid. Of course you’d misinterpret that!
“I didn’t want to embarrass her. She was really shy,” goddamnit. Goddamnit! “I gave her Ijichi’s number. I thought it’d be funny, promise. You can ask Ijichi, I bet he got a text from her, I swear!” He shows his palms, a display of trust. He’s being honest. You don’t need your power to know that, and frankly, you trust him enough not to use it.
You snort out a laugh, relaxing.
“Of course you did,” you shake your head. Satoru calms, though he’s still berating himself internally. “Think of Ijichi-san’s feelings. He’s gonna be so embarrassed!”
Satoru grins.
“I know! It’s gonna be so funny!”
This isn’t the day that Satoru will leave, but deep down, that pit in your stomach has formed and grown. You know you’re no longer content with this stalemate, and it’s that moment that makes you realize you are going to fight for Satoru. You’re going to ensure your future with him remains, and you’re going to keep his hand in yours. You’re going to kiss his silly smile, you’re going to hug his tall form. You’re going to make him yours.
You’re no longer content with just being his friend.
You didn’t plan anything. In fact, you didn’t expect for the moment to happen at all, not so simply, of course.
Satoru’s taking you out to Hokkaido. Partially, it’s because he has a mission out there, but mostly it’s so you can finally lay Ezra to rest. Satoru had taken care of everything for you already, made sure the headstone was edited and finalized for when you come to give him a proper ‘burial’. You’re thankful, hopelessly so, because you don’t think you would have had the strength to do it yourself.
For now though, you’ve begged Satoru to take you to the Wind Garden in Furano. And of course, he obliged. Most of the day, he watches you with a soft, dopey smile, feeling rather proud whenever your ring catches the light just right, shining for him, shining in his colors. He knows quite well what this place means to you. You’re overjoyed you get to see it in person finally, and when you come across the little archway from the tea box, you lean against him, crying for a moment.
It’s everything you could have ever imagined it to be. And it’s so much more. It’s an origin and you laugh wetly as you imagine a young visage of your mentor grinning underneath the trees. It’s not just his origin, but your own, you think. If it weren’t for the past events here, you wouldn’t have been guided by that same man. And now, you get to experience it all by your own love, your own Spring. What a joy.
You hadn’t planned this, truly, truly you hadn’t.
The two of you are sitting in a quiet secluded portion of the park, no one in sight, the sounds of the trees and insects all you can hear. Satoru pipes up beside you, voice nothing but curiosity.
“Say, I just remembered something,” he muses. You look over at him, your sides flush with each other. “What was with those books back in the domain?” You blink owlishly.
“What books?”
“The… science ones. They were hidden in your closet.” You let out a tiny laugh.
“You were snooping?” Satoru scoffs in return, acting all tight-lipped and dramatic. So cute.
“Of course not.”
“Right. What did you want to know about them? The books?” The man hums.
What did he want to know? He remembers feeling so weirded out, having expected pornography amongst the stash only to find the absolute last thing he had been anticipating. Quantum physics? In hindsight, he realizes it does make at least a little sense. Of course you’d like junk on spacetime. Your technique is literally time .
“They had a real-world counterpart right? What’d you use them for?”
You smile softly, a hint of melancholy in your gaze.
“Ezra gave me them. It was just to try and understand my technique a bit better. He thought it’d help, since his technique was rooted in physics too.”
“Really? That’s… avant-garde.” You laugh. He loves that sound, wants to hear it every single day until the day he’s old and gray and buried six feet under with your hand in his.
“I guess so. It did help though.”
“Seriously?”
“Mhm,” you bump your shoulder with his, he returns the gesture with double the force. “It did, I swear! I could hardly read or write, but for some reason I just… got it, you know? Maybe it had something to do with Yukito-san, but I felt like it was just instinct.”
Satoru watches you speak for a moment, your eyes lighting up as you speak. Every tiny minute detail of your face feels significant, every twitch and movement of muscle is something he commits to memory.
“Well? Tell me something, Einstein.” You look up at him skeptically for a moment. “I’m serious.”
You’re a bit hesitant. Isn’t this stuff kind of… geeky? Would he really wanna listen to you babble about physics?
“C’mon… indulge me, Sweets.”
It’s honestly pathetic just how fast he can convince you. You clear your throat.
“Well I mean… a lot of it was purely theoretical. Just a bunch of junk that we can’t exactly prove but can sort of guess might be right with enough math.” You glance at him, worried he might be judging you, but he nods, seeming to actually show interest. “I read a lot about time, you know, since…” You make an odd gesture with your hand, but he gets it. Since you .
“Of course, we know the universe operates in three dimensions, right?” He nods. “Yeah, so… the three dimensions of space, each direction. Like a grid.” You try to vaguely draw it out with your hands, a three-dimensional grid. “For a while, they thought that’s just how it is. Space.” You shrug, looking up to see if he’s still following. Satoru gives you a smile, you swear you almost scream.
“But uh,” he’s turning to look at you face-on, a hint of a sparkle in his eyes. He’s not excited just… attentive. Your heart speeds up. “But it was… it was actually Einstein who popularized the theory that time and space were… one and the same.”
Those words reverberate in your mind for a moment. You… hadn’t made the connection before. Oh God.
“Spacetime. A-a four-dimensional existence.” Why are you getting so nervous? Why is your heart pounding so loud? Why can’t you take your eyes off of his? “Three dimensions of space… and one of time.” When did he get so close?
“Spacetime,” Satoru murmurs, voice trailing.
“Yeah. Two parts of one whole. Tied together, inexplicably… um… one thing, you know?”
Satoru responds “Two parts of one whole,” repeating your conclusion softly. His eyes look down at your hand and he gently lifts it, intertwining your fingers together. Your breath catches with the half-lidded and gentle expression in his eyes, longing as they linger on the image of your joined hands. “Like us…,” he murmurs, sounding like his words are coming straight from his heart.
You stare at him, wide eyed and lips ever so slightly parted as he lifts your hand and presses a kiss against the back of it. Your heart is pounding, and all of a sudden, every single thought in your mind is replaced with Satoru. He’s all you see, he’s all you feel, and you’re about ready to combust.
You want to live with no regrets. You want to see the Spring with him, you want to take pictures with him here in Furano, and you want to mentor his students by his side. You want to live, keep living, and never stop, and even when this life takes you, you know you’ll find him in the next, know it’ll never truly end . And even if it does, you’ll somehow make sure that that isn’t true either.
( You want to be worth something.)
Yeah… yeah, you do. You want to make this life worth living, and you want to live life with no regrets.
You didn’t plan this. You truly, truly, truly did not. But that’s how these things go, isn’t it? It’s never about the plan, never about picking the right place, the right time, because it just happens .
“I,” you muster up the courage to whisper your voice between emotional stutters, “I want to be with you, Satoru.”
And it feels like Satoru can see in color for the first time. His sky-filled eyes widen, the clouds in them swirling with what can only be described as love as he listens to your frantic admission.
“I-I know maybe it’s stupid! And you probably don’t even… you know, but I-I! I… I-I was so scared before and I didn’t think I should o-o-or even could but-!” You’re stirring yourself up in a flurry of anxiety, but he can’t find it in himself to interrupt you.
He traces his thumb over the back of your hand. You have to stop yourself from freezing when your heart skips a beat. “But… but things feel easier when I’m with you. L-like… like it’s not as scary as it was before… j-just because I have you with me and… and when you’re with me I feel like I can… breathe .”
You let out a shuddering breath and steel yourself to glance up at him. You gulp and immediately look away, but he squeezes your hand in response.
“You’re saying…?” He ponders aloud, trying to guide you along gently despite the joy and excitement in his mind telling him to tackle you right then and there and kiss your silly face.
“I… I’m in love with you!” And you blurt it with such force that you pant a bit afterwards. “I-I’m in love with you and I don’t want to stop, I-I don’t want it to stop-”
“Don’t.” He interrupts you. You finally look up at him slowly. That look in his eyes… “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.” He leans forward, just mere inches from you as he looks you deeply in the eyes. Your gaze never falters from his. “Because I can’t.”
And suddenly, his lips are pressed against yours.
You hadn’t planned this. But it’s like every piece of the universe fell perfectly in line for you, and you’re kissing him. Your eyes flutter close. All you can feel is him . His fingers tangle in your hair, holding your cheek as you lean into him, resting a hand against his chest.
It’s beautiful. It’s better than anything you could have ever imagined, and above all else, it’s Satoru .
You can feel his heart race beneath your palm. You can taste the light delicacy of vanilla on his lips, the flavor of his chapstick. He squeezes your hand in his like a mantra, like it’s a promise, and you think it probably is. He’d given you a fucking ring, of course it was a promise.
And when he pulls away, your breath mingling with each other’s, you make eye contact and laugh brightly. He watches you fondly as tiny little tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and all he can do is lean forward and kiss them away.
“Am I that bad of a kisser you have to laugh and cry?” He teases and you simply push his shoulder lightly.
“Oh stop it,” you meet eyes again, the adoring look in his surely reflecting back in your own. He flashes you a smug, boyish grin.
“So you admit it? I’m good?” You can’t help but laugh again, shoving him.
“Stop it! Of course you are, you’re good at everything!”
“Even kissing you?” He asks slyly, arms wrapping around your waist.
“I already said you were!”
Satoru holds your hand as you stand over the Akiyama family grave. It had hurt a lot when you first got here, when you’d first gazed upon the sight in the real world, not in the fabrication you had witnessed with Yukito, but you’ve calmed down.
You wish you could have laid Ezra to rest proper. You wish you had more to offer than a few bags of tea you made, his favorite blend, one of the ones he taught you how to make by hand. You’d never cared much for it. Like Satoru’s preference, it’s too sweet, too floral for your own palate, but you’d never forgotten how to make it. In fact, you probably never will.
You know Ezra would have wanted you to keep his sword and the tea box, so you truly have nothing to lay to rest. It hurts.
(“ You’ll die alone and you’ll die as bloody mincemeat and there’s nothing you nor I could ever begin to do about it.”)
You laugh wetly. Stupid old man… Oh how wrong he was.
Back then, you’re sure Ezra knew you would surpass him. Being older, he had probably been waiting for his time for a long, long while. He always made everything out to sound like it was all doomed, but you know it was all just to make sure you knew what you were getting into.
Stupid man. Giving a child hope, taking them in as your own, and still stubbornly believing you’ll die alone . You can’t help but laugh.
You’re at least grateful you could have been there. He didn’t die alone, even if he was separated by the thin veil of a domain, he didn’t die alone. He died while you hugged his sword.
You tell him of everything that’s happened since you parted. You tell him of the domain and your false life there, of Yukito and your time of short-lived freedom. You tell him of Satoru and how you’d saved him, transcending space and time by joining your powers accidentally. You talk of the cafe, of the power you’d come into after his passing, the strength you possess.
You tell of your awakening, of your conversation with Yukito, your purpose and mission. You tell of how you weren’t afraid of death, how you’d never been afraid of death when you shared his side. You tell of Sukuna, of using his sword to destroy the plague of jujutsu society. You tell of Megumi, you tell of your death, you tell of the versions of yourself you’d met in your dream, of realizing you wanted to live .
You tell of Yuji, Choso, Kugisaki, Fushiguro. Ijichi, Ieiri, and the old man who’d kidnapped you. And finally, you tell of Satoru. Your current life, your future. You’d saved him, just as he’d now saved you and strangely it feels a bit like introducing your boyfriend to your parents for the first time, even though it’s only a stone that stares back at you. The thought makes you laugh.
It would’ve been funny to see Ezra sternly tell Satoru he’d murder him if he looked at you wrong. You bet he’s doing that from the grave right now, staring down at you and shaking his head. Though, deep down, you know he’s happy. And you can rest easy knowing he’s up there with his wife and child now. Tsukimi-san and Sayuri-chan are taking care of him, you remind yourself. He can rest.
You don’t know how you’re supposed to leave. The thought feels so dreadful that you think you might just break down into sobs again, but Satoru pulls you against his side and kisses your hair instead. It calms you. Ezra is gone, but you were able to tell him so many amazing things. You have such a wonderful life.
You take a deep breath and look up at Satoru. You flash a sad smile, he returns it with a squeeze of your shoulder.
“Ready to go?”
You glance back at the grave one last time. You’ll return again sometime, the next moment you and Satoru are in the area, and you’ll do this all over again. Like meeting a parent after you’ve moved out, you’ll return again and again to catch up and feel that comfort for a little while longer. You nod.
“Yeah,” you agree with another breath. “Home?”
“Yeah,” Satoru responds, gives you a peck on the lips. “Let’s go home.”
You don’t know what the future’s going to hold, don’t know every single event that will be laid before you, but you think it’s okay. You’re going to fight for this life and you’re going to love living it. You’ve got kids to take care of and you have a real home, a real love. So no matter how scary things are, no matter how many monsters you face, you know it doesn’t matter.
In this life and in the next, you’ll have Gojo Satoru by your side. Forever, and always. Every time, every space, you’ll have each other. So, even if you don’t know how to keep going, you know ultimately, that you’ll be okay.
You have Satoru. And you’re going home.