Chapter Text
He doesn't know what to expect after Yaga comes knocking at his parents home, sits them all in the living room and explains he has a talent not many people have. His mind stays empty as his parents turn to look at him, both scared and regretful of all the years of forcing him to stay in his locked room, staring straight at the curse mumbling in the corner behind his closet door and with nowhere to go. They listen quietly and he only finds relief in knowing he's not going crazy, having a name to put to the energy bubbling inside of him and the monsters he has been afraid of ever since he was a kid.
When Yaga explains he would fit much better with others like him, he smiles politely and nods, just wanting to leave the house he feels trapped in, the memories of the few curses he has eaten there and all the nights he has spent vomiting his guts out after that.
He feels disgusting.
Yaga trains him before the school year starts, wishing to teach him at least the basics that every sorcerer should know, not wanting his classmates to leave him behind, and with that training comes the knowledge that this ability of his could actually be useful to the world. He takes to martial arts like a fish in the water and soon he feels less like a freak of nature and more like someone with a purpose. So when Yaga tells him the school year will begin soon, he decides not to lower his head to anyone anymore, for the first time confident in the same thing that has only brought discomfort before.
He meets his two classmates, Shoko and Gojo, both born out of sorcerer parents, and he can't help but feel he doesn't belong. He is all restrained politeness, a smile that's too low on the edges and a small frown he can't completely get rid of.
Gojo Satoru doesn't like that.
He knows the white haired boy is supposed to be the heir of a clan, something that makes perfect sense with his bratty attitude and distant gaze.
In a way, it's impossible for them not to clash, and soon enough the animosity between them explodes in the middle of training, ending in a physical fight. He admires the polished way in which the other moves, clearly trained since he was a kid. But his overconfident smirk makes him want to put that pretty boy in his place and so, using all the strategies he has come to memorize carefully, he manages to defeat him. Gojo whines about him breaking the rules, only to storm angrily when Yaga tells him curses don't follow rules.
The other starts looking at him differently after that, starting random conversations before class, calling him by his first name and hanging by his arm like an annoying kid. When he asks Satoru what has brought this chance, the answer startles him.
'You are strong, aren't you?' The other says with a bright smile, as if, instead of competition, he is someone he has been waiting for a long time. As if his presence is suddenly welcome.
He tells himself that Gojo will stop thinking that he's strong as soon as they go to their first mission and he inevitably crumbles but, instead, the other boy rubs his back and pulls his hair away from his face while he throws up into a public toilet, whispering encouraging words right out of a tv show.
'Don't you think I'm weak now?' he asks with a bitter smile, tiredly resting his head against the cold tiles on the wall, absolutely exhausted.
'Don't be silly Suguru' The other says with a sad smile, averting his inhumanly blue eyes.
He understands why as soon as he finds Satoru crying on his room, eyes covered with his arms while a pounding headache threatens to overwhelm his sensitive nervous system, also familiar with the secondary effects of a powerful technique, as if the world has decided they need to pay a price in order to get such invincible powers. So of course he closes the curtains if the room and puts his own warm hands over Satoru's eyes, and the other boy relaxes against his touch, holding onto his wrists for dear life, both finding a safe place in the other's presence, like a silent 'It's ok, I understand you' they've both have been waiting all of their lives.
They become best friends.
Satoru comes to his room when he's bored, puts his head on his shoulder, asks to brush his hair, gives him the spicy foods he doesn't like but still buys for some reason. They are as close as they can be, and Shoko teases them about it, leaving a flustered Suguru and a confused Satoru behind, joining in their shenanigans every now and then, snickering when they get caught and glaring at them when she's also pulled into a lecture.
Both Satoru and him become even closer and, sooner rather than later, he falls in love with the other boy. When he can't resist the wish to kiss his best friend after a few weeks, he is surprised to find he's not the only one feeling this way, and so, their dynamic changes once again.
They cuddle and kiss before going to sleep, he forces Satoru to brush his teeth three times a day while Satoru buys him sweets everytime he has to swallow a particularly nasty curse. They take care of each other, a delicate thing building in between them when they look at each other, like a precious thing that's strengthens everytime they kiss, everytime they intertwine their fingers and everytime they whisper the other's name instead of saying Good Morning.
It's perfect.
And then, they are pushed apart, Fushiguro Toji staining their souls like a curse, slowly rotting away their precious bond until there's nothing left.
After that, Satoru's too busy to notice, flying too high to realize he's slowly breaking apart, his eyes too focused on faraway places to see him spiraling down. He feels alone and weak, useless as he swallows curse after curse, the taste permeating his tongue like the fumes of a body decomposing in a closed room during summer.
And suddenly Satoru is back, suddenly interested in arcade machines and fluffy pancakes again. He tries to follow his rhythm, but the weight of his depression pulls him down, making itself noticeable in every waking moment of his life. He sits in the stairs of the school, looking at the sky and smoking, begging the taste of nicotine to diminish the taste of curses on his tongue, slowly wasting away as the weeks go by.
Haibara gets hurt and he wonders again what's the point of it. Satoru talks about a kid that's going to be sold to the Zennin and he wonders what's the point of it. He looks at his reflection on the mirror and wonders what's the point of it.
Then he finds Mimiko and Nanako, and for the first time in months the lethargic blanket weighting over his body is lifted and he feels pure rage bleeding into his bloodstream. The only thing stopping him from a terrible decision being the voice of Satoru repeating over and over again their ideals.
'We should protect the weak, shouldn't we?' Satoru had said in the middle of their useless outings, blue eyes absolutely convinced of his words, as if wanting to hear him say 'yeah, we do' every single time. And he does, but deep down the voice of that monkey tells him it isn't worth it.
He comes back so Shoko can check on the small, too small, girls. Then, he leaves. There's no point in this, there was never a point, and he's reminded of Satoru dead and coming back, but him, a simple human, wouldn't be able to come back from the other side, nor would the rest of sorcerers. Only Satoru can come back from the dead. They're not the strongest, Satoru is. And so, when the white haired boy calls, he tells him he's leaving. No, he can't go back. There's no point. They have Satoru, and he will be fine because he's the strongest.
He focuses on both girls, on trying to make them less scared of the world, of humans, of sorcerers. He puts his little energy on his newly found mission and remembers Satoru's voice once again.
'Maybe they will change things' he had said, serious for once, talking about the Fushiguro kids. 'Maybe it won't be us, but them. The ones that finish this stupid cycle '
Watching two little girls reluctantly smiling at him, he agrees.
The text message comes late at night, and he barely sees it because he is smoking on the balcony, trying to get sleepy enough so he can get a few hours of rest.
'Hey Suguru, I just wanted to thank you for everything before saying goodbye. I love you'
He blinks, because not once in their entire unnamed relationship had Satoru told him he loved him.
'Idiot, is not like we will not see each other ever again' he replies, because even if he has decided to leave Jujutsu society, he knows he will still want to see Satoru every now and then.
He doesn't get an answer, and he sighs in disappointment before going to sleep.
The next day his phone rings and he picks up without checking the ID.
'I need you to come back' comes Shoko's voice, sounding wrong and shaky.
'You know I don't want to go back. I'm leaving for good' he answers.
Shoko curses under her breath and a sob scapes her throat. That's enough to make him worried. 'Idiot! Come here! I don't want to tell you over the phone!' she says, her voice angry and trembling. The phone goes silent for a second and the next person to speak is Yaga.
'We know you don't want to come back, but we need you here this last time.' and Yaga strong voice comes so weak that he knows it's an emergency. He asks his neighbor, a nice old lady, to take care of the girls for the day and, as soon as he's somehow out of sight, he uses one of his flying curses to rush into the school. When he enters he calls Shoko and she tells her to go to Satoru's room.
He runs there and as soon as he enters, the breath scapes his lungs. Satoru seems to only be sleeping, eyes closed and lips slightly parted open, just as beautiful as the first day they had kissed. He runs there and touches his skin and it's so cold that he pulls his hand back in surprise.
'Satoru?' he calls, because he knows how much he hates being cold, and why are you sleeping on your back? Didn't you say it was uncomfortable? 'Oi, Satoru' he calls again, trying to shake slightly his shoulders, because he knows he can be a heavy sleeper when he's particularly tired after a bad migraine. He just moves like a ragdoll and as soon a his head falls to one side, a trail of blood scapes his lips and stains his cheek, rolling down into the pillow.
'Shoko, what's happening? Why is he not responding?' he asks, his voice loud, eyes wide, mind refusing to see.
'He's gone' she says in a whisper and he feels like he's drowning, a void trying to consume him from inside, pulling into his heart and his stomach, as if Satoru has used blue just under his diaphragm.
'no' he shakes his head and pulls Satoru's body against his chest, his head falling against his shoulder and one of his long arms pressing awkwardly in between their bodies. 'Wake up, this is not funny!' he says, trying to sound angry and failing miserably. 'You can't die, you're the strongest. You came back once, don't you think you're fooling anyone!'
But Satoru stays still and when his eyes open due to the movement, he knows it's over. The usually bright and breathtaking blue already opaque, the cornea already starting to wrinkle, eyes drying without tears, a thin layer of white slowly engulfing the pupil as time passes and nature runs its course. The sight is one he already knows, something so connected to the words death and corpse that it feels like a punch in his stomach when he sees it in Satoru's crystalline eyes.
He breaks down, cries, screams, and the body weights heavily in his arms.
He's there when they burn Satoru's remains, and when the ashes are put into a wooden box he's surprised when Yaga gives them to him.
'I don't think he would have liked his clan to have this' he says, voice low like a thing of secrets. Suguru nods and holds the box close to his heart.
There's suddenly a reason to come back.