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An old, odd curse runs beneath the Gojo family and their ancestors. A rather dark and terrifying myth that people across the sorcerer world know of.
Myth, wholly because it’s too uncertain, too impractical for it to be anything but that. It’s almost close to unbelievable for it to even be a myth and not a fairytale of sorts. All else aside, the Gojo clan refuses to acknowledge its existence, much less inform of its factuality or rationality.
This curse, this myth, this fairytale, dogs the path of every Limitless and Six-Eye user. Each one of them, ever since there has been a concept of it, an idea, tracing all the way back to every archive there ever has been. Satoru Gojo can be an exception to many, many things, but not this.
___
Satoru Gojo opens his eyes in a river of his own blood, sticky and mucus-like, gluing to his skin and hair like nectar against velvet fingertips. He’s half delirious. He knows of it as he stands and looks around the world, alight with a strange sort of ecstasy he can’t get enough of. His Six-Eyes burn against the stimulus of it all, the stark brightness jabbing against his eyelids, eyes, retinas.
Somewhere out there, he knows Toji Fushiguro has already led Riko Amanai to her death, a bullet through her head, has already stripped Suguru Geto of his rationality to a certain degree.
Satoru doesn’t think of it all as he usually would have, mind high of the syrupy sweet elation his body is thrumming with. Reverse Curse Technique bubbles beneath his veins and he wants to scream with joy and sob with happiness.
A quick work of Toji, rather mindlessly, as Satoru thinks back to it later when he carries Riko’s body back to where he knows he’ll see Suguru. His mind rattles with the thought, previous bliss turning to bile in his stomach and dust in his mouth.
Suguru opens the wide doors to see Satoru, Riko in hand, face bloodied.
Before Satoru can stop himself, the words tumble out of his mouth even though he knows Suguru’s answer already. “I wouldn’t feel anything if I killed all these people. Should I do it?”
Maybe it’s the sudden kick of the previous highness that Satoru finds the urge to laugh as Suguru convinces him otherwise.
It’s you! He wants to scream at Suguru, How can you say that when it’s you!
The next time he sees Suguru he can barely bring himself to look at the man and not see blood staining his shoulder where his missing arm should be, and stitches across his forehead where a foreign brain must reside. Except Suguru is right in front of him, an olive branch to grab onto and stop what Satoru has already lived.
But it’s impossible to. Satoru can think of a thousand different little possibilities of Suguru’s reaction to each of Satoru’s words. The thing with probabilities, when there are thousands of them, each one becomes as likely as the other and Satoru does not want it to be the same, cannot live with himself if it is the same.
There is an old curse plaguing the Gojo clan and its roots have found Satoru Gojo, the strongest Sorcerer of the modern age.
Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo, or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?
Satoru is still sent to missions, his eyes are still glassy and colorless, despite the Six-Eyes. And he can’t do anything as he slowly sees the darkness beneath and within Suguru’s eyes increase day by day, can’t do anything as Shoko smokes one cigarette after another, can’t do anything as Haibara is sent off to a mission Satoru knows will kill him.
Before he knows it, the damned day arrives and Satoru is facing the turned back of Suguru.
Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo, or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?
One time out, ninety-nine to go.
___
Satoru Gojo wakes up in his own pool of blood, rivulets of it still dragging down his body like a snake tracing the path of its prey.
Reverse Cursed Technique. Toji Fushiguro. Riko Amanai.
And he’s standing before Suguru again, Riko’s body long deposited to Shoko, neither of the special-grade sorcerers able to meet the young girl’s eyes.
Satoru looks at Suguru as both of them walk back to their own dorm rooms. She too was a non-sorcerer, wasn’t she? His tongue moves beneath his closed lips, was she too one of your ‘monkeys’? To a certain degree, he knows that it isn’t true, not to a fault, at least, because regardless of her cursed energy, she was able to see curse spirits. But Satoru is still venomous, something hot and red curling within him, jaws unhinged, fangs sharp.
He wants to shake Suguru then but the image of him with stitches across his head and one of his arm missing is too clear and he’s certain that if he speaks he’ll not be able to.
Morning comes and goes by and Satoru doesn’t leave his room, sitting on the window and watching the sun move from one direction to the other. He can sense everything that goes on outside his closed dorm room door, his Six-Eyes trace the path of everything in Jujutsu Tech. And maybe he keeps himself so vigilante because he has nothing to do, and maybe because if he stops, he thinks he’ll lose sight of Suguru.
It’s not until the third day when Suguru knocks down Satoru’s door and stares at him, hair untied and locks cascading down his shoulders, does Satoru eat. That too, in small amounts. Suguru tries to lighten the mood but Satoru can’t focus on anything other than the plain voice of the one he’s lost, his biggest weakness and his greatest regret.
The rotting, revolting curse has found it’s next prey and Satoru Gojo is weak against it, the strongest bought to knees. A god against the musky floor, hands against the dirt, nails bloody.
Satoru feels as though in a daze most days. His technique has flourished, surely, and he’s sent off on more missions than he can count. But whenever he isn’t, and whenever his Limitless is down, he’s high of euphoria, Suguru’s presence a drug in his vicinity.
It’s almost laughable, the way Suguru hangs around him as if Satoru is the one who’s fragile and weak and broken beyond repair. As if it’s him who needs a hand to hold and not be the hand that holds.
My best friend. My one and only.
Days pass and they turn to weeks and weeks to months and before the mightiest sorcerer of the modern age can even gasp a breath and take a pause against a wall, he’s back on that busy day in Shinjuku.
Desperation bubbles beneath his throat and the vile, red-eyed monster washes away, leaving only a wound rubbed raw.
“Suguru!” Satoru shouts, and it’s not even a shout, it’s not even close to it, it’s more of a miserable attempt at grasping at what remains of his best friend, his last desperate attempt in this chance to stop him. “I need you.”
Suguru doesn’t turn so much as he tilts, his hair still short and not long enough to sway as he fights Satoru’s students – will fight Satoru’s students.
“You’re the strongest, Satoru,” a slight downturn of lips, a strange darkness in raven eyes, “You don’t need anyone. And I’m tired of being the one holding you when you’re Satoru Gojo.”
Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo, or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?
Maki. Panda. Inumaki. Yuta. Declaration of Battle. Miguel. The End.
Satoru looks at Suguru and he suddenly is sure what he has to do. He stares at Suguru’s dying breath and thinks of course.
He lives the rest of his life in daze. Waiting until that day in Shibuya when Suguru’s face will appear behind him and he’ll be locked in that forsaken seal by a stranger and the world will stop.
___
His own blood. Reverse Cursed Technique. Toji Fushiguro. Riko Amanai. Suguru.
“She was a good child,” Satoru says as a way of greeting to Suguru and the noise of claps and exclamations around him is so loud, so grating, so wretched on his ears and his eyes that Satoru can barely stand there and say anything other than the suggestion of mass murder.
Suguru is staring at him as if staring at a ghost and Satoru thinks its only fair. Even to himself (technically speaking) Satoru was dead until a while ago. They don’t exchange pleasantries again and Suguru helps him carry Riko to Shoko. As soon as Riko is given a farewell with no words and no smiles, Satoru holds onto Suguru’s sleeve and tugs.
Suguru looks down at Satoru’s still bloody hand.
”Satoru, are you okay?”
What? No, I’m supposed to be asking that.
“I always am. Are you?” Satoru says breezily and gives a small smile which he knows is fake but he must’ve been practicing it for twenty-eight years because Suguru is convinced with it and Satoru knows if it was his older self, his childish self, that had given Suguru one of his fake smiles, Suguru would have noticed straight away but this time he doesn’t because Satoru knows what he must do.
The curse kills what cannot be killed. It kills that which is unkillable. The strongest. The fastest. The greatest.
Satoru remains as a constant in Suguru’s day to day after that. He thinks its almost working because Suguru still laughs and jokes and retaliates to Satoru’s words. He still mocks his taste in sugary stuff and laughs after Nanami and Haibara as they jitter on and on about one thing or the next. It almost seems to be working and Satoru feels as though he can breathe again because he hasn’t touched Shoko’s cigarettes even once in this Chance and it seems to be going fine. Maybe Suguru will be okay. Maybe it will help.
Then Haibara dies and everyone breaks. Shoko disappears into the morgue for long hours and Nanami stays long in missions and longer in his dorm alone. Suguru’s eyes start losing their glimmer of hopefulness and start descending into madness. Satoru is the only one who’s unaffected by this because he has seen it before but the pain still clogs his throat and makes it harder to speak because Haibara was still a kid and god, they are all just children and he’s suddenly sixteen again worked up over all of this and suddenly Suguru does sound right because why should those non-sorcerers, those monkeys get to live in a life of blissful ignorance when sorcerers can’t?
He pulls back from that line of thought because he looks at Suguru and thinks he needs me. He thinks I am the strongest. He thinks I can’t do this without him. He corrects He can go rogue but I can’t.
The answer becomes clear to him now. Haibara. He needs to save Haibara.
So he lives through the torture again as he runs off on missions and tries to keep brushing his shoulder against Suguru and blows smoke on Shoko’s face as she admonishes him on his antics. He does all this and ignores it when Suguru doesn’t retaliate his words the same way he used to once, when his eyes become shallow and dark and so so fragile. He ignores of it all because right now he wants this Chance to end so he can move over to the next one and save Haibara.
As selfish as he sounds, Haibara is a means to an end and maybe Satoru isn’t saving him for saving him but saving him because he has to, because Suguru cannot be saved without that. So Satoru doesn’t feel selfish at all.
And maybe its evident on his face as well, the giddiness of the days passing, the small smirks as he looks at the clock. Maybe its more evident than he realizes because soon Nanami is turning the corner whenever he sees Satoru and Suguru is scoffing whenever Satoru cracks another one of his jokes and Shoko is staring at him in disgust as he bellows one puff of smoke after another.
It all will come to an end, Satoru knows, so he endures. He endures as Nanami screams at him and endures as Suguru looks at him with barely concealed disgust. He endures as Shoko stops him from entering the morgue and endures when Yaga sends him on more missions than is strictly necessary.
Die! They all seem to collectively scream at him. Die and go to hell so Haibara can’t see your careless face in heaven!
Satoru endures because he’s the strongest and he has to. Because all this is a means to an end and there’s a point.
Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo, or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?
He waits and laughs and sprints through hallways because he has long stopped caring who looks at him and in what way. He’s more often than not on missions anyway so it really doesn’t matter at the end of the day. Shoko refuses to treat him and Suguru refuses to train with him and Nanami has already left Jujutsu Tech to work in some company and Satoru endures because he’s the strongest. Because he’s Satoru Gojo and if it was anyone else they would’ve broken by now but it’s the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.
So Satoru endures.
“It still doesn’t affect you at all, does it?” Suguru says in disgust in Shinjuku, eyes venomous and sharp, a viper glittering its fangs at its prey. “Maybe they should reduce all these young sorcerer’s burden and give every single mission to you. Tell me, will that make you the strongest?”
Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?
Satoru gives his widest smile, all teeth and gums and scrunched up nose. Notice me! Some part of him screams. Notice the pain in my eyes!
His eyes are not visible. They haven’t been for a long time. He wears a blindfold now. Too early for it but he does it anyway.
“We are sorcerers, Suguru. We are born to die.”
So the years continue on. Yaga Sensei allows him to teach because he can’t say no. Because this Satoru is different. He’s cold and calculating and hides it all in his hidden eyes as his lips stretch in wide smiles. His skin porcelain blisters with the weight of it and nobody sees it but him. He picks up Megumi and the child fears him, this wonderful, fearless child is afraid of him. Of the blubbering idiot he adored in another lifetime, in the real lifetime. But Satoru ventures on undeterred, his steps become more erratic and arrogant because once he’s twenty-eight again and sees the stranger’s words dropping from Suguru’s mouth, he’ll get the chance to fix all this.
He walks through life as if he’s granted a second, a third. He kills Jogo when he gets the chance and Hanami barely escapes. He almost suggests killing Yuji but relents at Megumi’s wide-eyed fear. He sends all three students on missions alone because it’s not real anyway and it’s something that is bound to end.
When Nobara dies Satoru feels the first crack in his resolve.
When Megumi comes back halfway to death Satoru feels his fists tightening.
When Nanami comes back to take away Yuji and Megumi from him, Satoru feels a hatred so horrendous, so trepid, that he almost crushes under the burden of it. The red-eyed monster within him scratches and snarls. He remembers Yuta and Rika and wonders if he really should’ve cursed Suguru out of spite.
“Any last words?”
“Fuck you, Satoru.”
It’s not irrational. He knows it not to be. Nobody in this lifetime knows of the burden he’s carrying but he understands that its him who’s led Suguru to death.
He still lives. Now mostly running around on missions rather than training his students. With Nobara’s death, Yuji and Megumi want nothing to do with their older sensei and Satoru can understand. He really can.
So he ventures on. He endures. He threatens the higher ups and they cower beneath his gaze in ways they never have before. Yaga sensei stares at him with hesitance as if wondering what created him, what broke him.
And then he faces Mahito and the blood-manipulator. He halfheartedly fights. Wondering if all these futile lives really matter in the grand scheme of things. He bides his time as Suguru’s body appears and greets him in a warmth he hasn’t heard from Suguru in a long while.
So he turns and the seal opens and the world stops.
___
Blood. Reverse Curse Technique. Toji. Riko. Suguru.
His skin is soft to touch as Satoru grazes his bloody fingertips against him. Rika’s body deposited to Shoko.
“Suguru,” he whispers and he knows his voice is sharp and brittle and nothing like the voice of the Satoru Suguru knows.
But Suguru doesn’t comment. He let’s Satoru graze his fingertips against his cheek, his nose, his forehead, his hair. He lets him because perhaps he doesn’t know how to stop him, maybe he doesn’t want to.
So Satoru lives like a corpse. His older choices coming to haunt him at night. The dead face of Nobara, the open hatred of Suguru, the betrayed face of Yuji. It all dogs his footpath as if the curse itself has rooted a place in Satoru’s heart and is leaching away the strongest of his strength.
There is a curse that burdens the souls of the Gojo clan. The curse of every few hundred years when a tiny, little thing is born with greatness thrust upon its shoulders.
“Talk to me, Satoru,” Suguru urges but Satoru can’t think straight because in ten days Haibara will be sent to his death and Satoru must do everything in his power to stop it.
He gives Suguru one of his lazy smiles which is too brittle at the edges, “What is there to talk about?”
His voice is soft and nothing like the menacing mystery he was in his previous Chance. He is still wearing his glasses and Suguru slowly takes them off.
Satoru kisses him then because he doesn’t know what else to do to stable himself. He does it because he knows, a small part of him believes, that he won’t be able to. He’s fully prepared to be pushed away but Suguru only presses closer to him, lips soft against his own and Satoru wants to ask him if he knows how many people Suguru will kill in a few weeks, how many people Satoru killed in his previous Chance.
They pile under the covers like teenagers and the thought is strange because they actually are teenagers but it’s hard to believe it somedays. The weight on Satoru’s shoulder has never been this heavy and whenever he looks at Haibara, he is reminded of his death and how he’s just a means to an end. He feels as though the boy is nothing more than that. As if his easy smile and stupid laugh is just something to keep Suguru sane.
In the morning Satoru feels hunger for Suguru. A sort of insatiable hunger that keeps him sane and away from the edge he’s dangerously dangling at.
Satoru takes up Haibara’s mission. And the next one. And the one after that. He knows he can’t keep doing it. He knows that suspicion will arise if he does keep doing so. But what else is there.
So one day he’s on one of his own missions and Haibara is sent off to his.
And he dies.
When Satoru sees Suguru again both of them meld against each other in a sort of uncontrolled anger. It’s not soft and beautiful anymore but more like animals fighting for dominance, punishing each other for crimes that neither of them committed.
After that Satoru burns at everything and only Suguru’s bare body against him can calm him down. He’s dazed most days due to it and he knows from the darkness in Suguru’s eyes that he isn’t helping. Satoru understands that saving Haibara is the key to everything – his own sanity and Suguru’s.
So he just waits for his next Chance.
Sex becomes an escape he can’t let go off. And Suguru has always been weak when it comes to denying Satoru something.
Satoru hates himself for it and hates Suguru even more because the man can kill hundreds but can’t say a single no to stop Satoru. And it’s shameful that Satoru doesn’t even want him to. He’s burnt out and burning out Suguru as well. The strongest against the weakest and both of them collapsing.
So when Shinjuku happens Satoru isn’t surprised at the hollow note in Suguru’s voice.
“You know, Satoru,” he says, head tilted back, “for being the strongest, you sure are so damn weak.”
Are you the strongest because you are Satoru Gojo, or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?
Yuta. Death. Yuji. Shibuya. Suguru and stop.
___
It seems as though stopping Haibara’s death is impossible. Satoru still tries.
For the next thirty-two Chances he tries.
He can’t stop Haibara from going on every mission unless he wants to reveal his cursed status. He can’t help him on each one of his missions. He once convinces him to leave Jujutsu Tech and Nanami dies and the same events follow.
On the thirty-third Chance, Satoru manages it. Haibara lives. And he still stands in Shinjuku, Suguru a few paces away from him.
I did everything I was supposed to, he wonders, bemused, why is it still happening.
“I always thought it was you and me, Satoru,” Suguru says, and Satoru has a strange feeling he knows what caused this. He wants to kill himself for it. And isn’t that a shocker.
“Have a good life, Satoru, make sure you keep Haibara happy.”
”Clan-head?” Satoru builds up the courage to ask one day, head held meekly before his father. The Gojo clan-head looks at him through deadened eyes.
“What is it, Satoru?”
“What is the Gojo Clan Curse?”
He is only ten when he asks this, only five when he got to know of it, and he doesn’t even remember how young he must’ve been to hear it the first time.
When you’re a miracle in one of the greatest clans in sorcerer history, people tend to stay out of your way, however, they still tend to talk.
Satoru’s father stares at him, bemused, as if expecting him to ask this one day or another. Slowly, he gets up from his seat and sits next to Satoru on the floor.
In later years, when Satoru will reminisce about this moment, he’ll remember it as the fondest memory he has of his father, not that there are many to begin with anyway.
The boy keeps his head bowed as the clan-head sits, cross-legged, next to him. When he speaks, his tone uncharacteristically soft.
“Do you think you will have an easy life, Six-Eyes?”
Satoru thinks for a moment because he’s only ten and there’s only so much he can know. He trains until his feet ache and he’s immune to all sorts of poison by now. Even then, a horde of guards follow him wherever he goes. His life is luxurious, sure, but is it easy?
“I don’t know,” he tries to stay neutral.
His father sighs. “You’re a great miracle, Satoru, and all great miracles end with wretched curses.”
Satoru thinks of the many small curses he encounters, of the many, many he senses from yards away. The ones he exorcises with his mentor and the ones he exorcises all on his own.
He thinks, rather childishly, that if it were a curse, he could take it, especially when he was older and wiser. He doesn’t share this thought with his father, even though he knows his brash confidence can either earn him a good-hearted slap on the back or an earful about honorifics.
Regardless, the clan-head continues.
“Nobody knows of this outside our clan. At least, not as a fact but fault. It’s an old curse, an irredeemable one. You will be the strongest sorcerer one day, Satoru, and nobody will be able to penetrate your limitless, the only exception being yourself.”
Satoru blinks at him, eyes still round and cheeks still chubby and face still un-understanding.
“You will be the death of yourself, Six-Eyes. The one who kills you will be you alone.”
His father stands, the moment of peace broken, Satoru’s favorite memory ending.
“That is the curse of being the strongest, but that won’t be you, Satoru. You will be strong and you will not show the world your weaknesses. Curse or not, real or not, I expect this of you. In a few years you will be send off to the Jujutsu Highschool. You will not show weakness, you understand me?”
Satoru nods.
He needs to be stronger.
Blood. Reverse Cursed Technique. Toji. Riko. Suguru.
He trains his body now. He understands if he were strong enough, if he took enough missions, he wouldn’t let down Suguru. So he runs around trying his best, trying more than his best.
He prefects his Limitless and Six-Eyes even after two full weeks of sleeplessness. His record time of ending a special grade curse becomes a little over nine seconds. He takes up on Suguru’s, Nanami’s, Haibara’s missions whenever he can. He talks to everyone because he wants to be strong and be the pillar of support too. So he stands and blabbers on with Shoko, as he does with Suguru. He consoles Nanami when Haibara dies. He stands like a shield against Suguru.
He knows its about his regret. His fault. Haibara isn’t his regret, not his greatest one. That’s what the curse will allow him. Just Suguru.
So he tries and tries. Until his body is rubbed raw, until he can’t help but collapse on the bed, until he’s forcing his Reverse Curse Technique to help with the exhaustion as well. It’s brutal and everyone knows it. The higher-ups are concerned now and that’s saying something.
He still sticks on a cheeky grin whenever Suguru is there because Suguru can’t see him struggle because he’s supposed to be the strongest.
The day he sees the first fleck of darkness coaxed out of Suguru’s eyes, he almost loses it. He grabs Suguru and hugs him with all his might. He asks him whether he’s okay and asks him if there’s anything Satoru can help with.
I’m the strongest, his mind yells, give your burdens to me.
But Suguru doesn’t give a proper response and gives his own fake smile and now it’s both of them against each other again. The endless game of fakeness until one of them snaps and Satoru knows it’s going to be Suguru.
Satoru takes up Suguru’s mission on the village. He takes Mimiko and Nanako with him to Jujutsu Tech. He informs everyone of the condition they were kept in.
The next day he hears of Suguru slaughtering an entire village.
It’s the same nightmare all over again.
They’re back in Shinjuku.
“What else can I do?” Satoru asks, rather pitifully.
Suguru stares at him as if he’s grown a second head. “You’re the strongest, Satoru, if anyone would know, it’s you.”
Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo, or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?
Are you the strongest?
Satoru spends his next twelve Chances being the strongest he can be. He rivals every sorcerer there ever was. One time he kills every single curse spirit in the entirety of Japan in one night and the state Suguru finds him in after pushes Suguru to the edge. A next time he holds Suguru through the night and kisses his forehead and tells him that he’s ready to take on any pain that Suguru has. Another time he shields the entirety of Tokyo with his Limitless and almost collapses due to exhaustion right after.
All in all, he gives his best. He laughs and smiles and maybe Suguru finally starts to catch on that Satoru isn’t really Satoru anymore.
Satoru still continues living in his daze, as if his high didn’t wear off after Toji, every single one of them. He has killed that man so many times he doesn’t even know how he manages to get to Megumi each time. He is tired most days and there are bags under his eyes.
The same thing over and over.
A switch.
And Suguru’s fall.
It’s the same thing.
He finally breaks on his twelfth Chance, screaming at Suguru in Shinjuku
“How strong do you want me to be!?”
Suguru doesn’t bat a single eyelash at him, doesn’t react, he simply gazes at Satoru as if Satoru is the one being senseless.
“You don’t have to keep proving that you’re strong, Satoru, we know you are. Everybody knows you are.”
At that Satoru is struck dumb because isn’t that what Suguru wants?
Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?
“What do you mean?” He asks.
Suguru only stares at him, brows furrowed.
“Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?”
Without skipping a beat, Satoru answers, “I’m whatever you want me to be.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Suguru asks, “I’m still weak, you’re still Satoru Gojo.”
And everything slots into place.
Yuta. Death. Yuji. Shibuya. Seal. Stop.
___
Satoru doesn’t use his hollow purple this time. He’s still high off ecstasy as he always is, but now-days it’s become increasingly difficult for him to be anything otherwise. He brings Riko’s body back to Suguru and tells him that he learnt Reverse Cursed Technique. Didn’t master it. Can’t master it.
He starts getting himself injured on most of his missions. Sometimes going as far as to call for help if he starts bleeding too much. On most days he starts losing to Suguru on purpose during sparrings. He keeps his Six-Eyes covered with bandages, so he doesn’t excel at it. He goes to visit Shoko with injuries more than he should.
He knows he’s probably overdoing it, but he can’t help himself. If being weak is the only way he can be with Suguru, then so be it.
Due to this pathetic attempt at weakness, Satoru and Suguru are sent on missions together and Satoru has never been more thrilled. He lets Suguru defeat most of the curses and gets injured in front of him most times. He lets himself lose in creative ways and smiles sheepishly at Suguru as if saying, see? I’m as human as you. I’m Satoru Gojo. I’m not the strongest.
Then his lack of strength causes the death of Nanami and Haibara both.
And then Suguru leaves because it’s just him and Satoru now. Because Shoko is in the morgue most days.
“Do you want to hear a story?”
Satoru can barely hear the murmur of Suguru in the busy street of Shinjuku. The hatred pooling in his stomach is slowly draining away. Everything is draining away. Satoru can’t fix this.
“A hundred tries, Honored One. Only that. Save him if you can.”
“Sure, Suguru,” his voice is frail. Weak. As if he truly is weak.
“Once upon a time a sheep wore the skin of a human to be the apex predator. Another time, a human wore the skin of a sheep to be the prey. Which one are you, Satoru. An apex predator hiding behind sheepskin, or a sheep hiding behind the apex predator.”
Are you as weak as you show, or are you showing that you’re as weak?
It doesn’t matter in the end.
The same thing happens.
Suguru dies and Satoru lives until he’s twenty-eight, getting back to that sticky feeling of his own blood pooling against his own self.
___
Satoru loses hope after that.
He has a quite a lot more Chances. But what else is there. So he lives for every moment he can. He chases Suguru’s lips in the dark and holds his hand in daylight. He nags Shoko until she throws him out the morgue. He gives Yaga sensei his most boring mission report with a hundred pages purely out of spite and childlike prank. He lives and lives because he knows in a few months Haibara will die then Suguru will leave then Satoru will become a teacher and Suguru will die.
It’s all a pattern now.
Toji. Haibara. Suguru. Toji. Haibara. Suguru. Toji. Haibara. Suguru. Toji. Haibara. Suguru.
He tries to forget of this with his students, with Megumi, but it’s hard, knowing he’ll be back at square one when he’s twenty-eight. On that damned day.
He lives and he dies and he lives and he dies.
He laughs he cries he screams he sobs.
It’s all just happening in repeated loops now.
He’s tired and he already wants to go.
He wants to kill himself.
He wants to kill Suguru.
___
He moves like a rapid hurricane, a blur of movements, hands and limbs and blood everywhere. Hair stained crimson like Christmas and eyes a wicked gleam of madness, lips stretching wide wide wide wide.
Satoru stands in a graveyard of his own making, bodies ripped apart and him standing and panting in the middle.
He looks up at Suguru, Rika’s body clutched tight in his hands.
We can we together now, right? He thinks desperately, If I can’t drag you to heaven, I will drag myself to hell.
Suguru is still staring at him, eyes vast and lips pressed tight against each other.
The coin flips.
“Tell me, oh, Honored One,” A voice nags as the seal closes around him. Time slowly warping to stop. Satoru looks at Kenjaku and the voice speaks again. “What is your greatest regret.”
Satoru thinks the curse knows it already. He thinks everybody must know it. His eyes reflect it. His soul aches with it.
“You look lonely,” the curse taunts again, “I can fix that.”
Satoru falls, deeper and deeper and deeper into an abyss he doesn’t know an end to. He doesn’t fight the curse because there is no curse in sight. Just the wretched voice.
“Do you think you will have an easy life, Six-Eyes?”
Satoru falls in complete darkness, his heart still hammering against him.
“We can finish this fast!” He chuckles, “I will even be kind with your death and make it quick.”
The voice cackles and hisses as if laughing. Satoru’s gut twists.
“You have a hundred chances, Satoru Gojo, Six-Eyed Limitless. A hundred chances to save him. A hundred tries, Honored One. Only that. Save him if you can.”
Satoru stills against the building, his arm ripped off. He looks over at Suguru’s serene form landing gracefully, hair a mess.
“You’re late, as always, Suguru,” Satoru says, and the memory of his words twist painfully in his throat.
“You attacked my students,” Suguru says and Satoru wants to say they were my students but look where that got us (a voice in him says even if they were your students look where that got us).
Satoru understands now. He gets it. He and Suguru are two parts of the same coin. One’s death will break the other. One’s path to darkness is other’s path to success. If Suguru’s wings darken then Satoru’s will brighten; if Satoru’s eyes sag then Suguru’s will shine.
Destiny plays with Satoru in strange ways.
He picks up Yuta’s ID and throws it in Suguru’s direction. He catches it.
The same pattern. Again. Except he’s the one who should be unaware of the pain now.
“Any last words?” Suguru asks.
Satoru thinks about it. He can only remember bits and pieces of his fight with all the sorcerers. His old (current) students fighting against him as if he were a mad monster out of a children’s fairytale.
“I love you,” Satoru says.
It’s something he has never said before. Not in any of his Chances. Not in real life. He hasn’t.
Suguru stares at him with something akin to pity.
Satoru smirks. “What? Not gonna curse me a little at the end?”
Suguru sits beside him, mouth opening.
“Are you telling me this because you’re dying, or are you dying because you’re telling me this?”
Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo, or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?
Satoru closes his eyes.
___
He wakes up in his own puddle of blood.
Same pattern.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Again.
___
There must be something wrong with me, Satoru thinks as he plunges another Red at Yuki Tsukumu. He does it again and again even though the poor girl’s dead.
Satoru thinks this will stop Suguru but it doesn’t.
Except now Satoru is a cold-hearted killer and Suguru is a cult leader.
___
Am I the strongest because I’m Satoru Gojo, or am I Satoru Gojo because I’m the strongest?
He walks away from the dead corpses of the higher ups.
___
He kills Haibara and makes it look like a suicide.
It doesn’t help but Satoru feels like he tried.
___
He kills Suguru as soon as he lays eyes on him.
It doesn’t help and he lives that Chance running away from all sorcerers and being haunted by Suguru’s dying corpse (the corpse doesn’t leave, even in his other Chances.)
___
He kills every single curse in Japan and does it again and again and again.
It doesn’t help and Suguru still runs away but Satoru feels satisfied about it.
___
He kills Suguru that day in Shinjuku.
It doesn’t help and this time he doesn’t even feel anything about it.
___
He gives up on sorcery and leaves Suguru first so Suguru can’t leave him.
It doesn’t work because his clan tracks him down and commands that he rejoins the Jujutsu world.
In turn, he kills them all.
___
He lets Sukuna kill him because dying feels nice and he can’t do it himself lest he actually wants to die in real time.
___
He ties a noose in his dorm and is halfway choking to death when Suguru opens his door and helps him off and Shoko heals the burn marks on his neck.
___
He doesn’t get up from the bloodied puddle and remains there until Suguru finds him.
___
He gets to the village before the mission is assigned and kills Nanako and Mimiko himself. The villagers praise him for it and Jujutsu Tech gets to know about it in no time.
Suguru leaves.
___
When it’s his ninety-first Chance Satoru doesn’t even know what he’s going to say when he speaks.
“I came a long way here for you,” he says to Suguru, eyes not meeting his through the busy crowd of Shinjuku.
Suguru quirks a brow, “It isn’t a very long journey.”
“You have no idea.”
Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo, or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?
Are you Satoru Gojo?
“What would you have me do, Suguru?”
“Kill me.”
“Already did.”
Suguru pauses and a small smirk plasters itself at the corner of his mouth. Satoru knows there will be a retort, a jab, something to remind him of the time before all this, when he was actually a teen and not whatever this monster is.
But Satoru can’t help himself. He’s tired. He’s so damn tired.
“Too many times.”
“Stop being sentimental, Satoru, it doesn’t suit you.”
“I’m being honest.” Satoru looks at Suguru and lets all the hurt and guilt and pity shine through. There’s no anger. There’s possibly no sadness either. Just numb. Nothing. Blank.
“I killed you, Suguru,” he clarified. “More than once. More times than I’d want to admit. Does it feel nice? It didn’t before. Now it doesn’t even feel like anything. It’s become a routine. You do your cult business I do my teaching job we meet again and my student injures you beyond help and I kill you. Again and again.” Satoru frowns at Suguru’s uncomfortable look.
Suguru takes an unsteady step towards Satoru. He stops. He almost turns but curiosity gets the better of him. “What do you mean?”
Satoru walks towards him and kisses him. Suguru doesn’t push him away, doesn’t retaliate either, because there’s nothing behind the kiss. It’s just an act for Satoru now. He can’t add any emotion behind it. Lips on lips, that’s all it is.
“I killed you,” Satoru mumbles against Suguru’s lips that are still unresponsive to this dull activity. He pulls away and grasps Suguru’s hands, intertwining their fingers. “I murdered you, Suguru. Actually killed you. It all seems hypothetical to you right now but I know it. I know all that will happen.”
Suguru tugs on Satoru’s hand and drags him to a nearby alley. He turns to Satoru and Satoru knows his eyes are still as dead as they were before. He has stopped using his smile. This Chance and a few Chances before this one went the way reality did. Except now Satoru’s doing the unthinkable.
“What do you mean by that?” Suguru asks.
“I killed you,” Satoru repeats himself.
“I’m right here.”
“I will. Well, I will for you. I already did for me. Time travel, bit icky, if I be honest.”
“Satoru, are you drunk?”
“Do I look drunk?”
Suguru shakes his head, hands still holding Satoru’s.
Then it’s like a dam breaking.
Satoru vomits out the basics. The real time. And a few of the fake time. Not all. He can’t give into that admission yet. Can’t explain why his eyes that were once so lively are now so very dull.
Suguru listens to him carefully. Once Satoru’s done he almost thinks Suguru will make fun of him, call him insane, or worse, ask one of his stupid questions like ‘are you insane because you’re asking this question, or are you asking this question because you’re insane.’ The thought is almost comedic, and Satoru would’ve laughed but that sounded like too much effort.
“Okay,” Suguru finally says.
“Okay?”
“Is there any point to it?” He asks. Satoru freezes, staring at him.
“Point to what?”
“My death.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“Is there?”
“No.”
But Satoru knows that’s not true. He knows because he has been the point. Suguru Geto dies so Satoru Gojo can become the strongest.
Suguru quirks his lips, “Your eyes are so very hollow, doesn’t mean I can’t read them.”
Satoru looks away and Suguru gently hooks a finger underneath his chin and turns his face back.
“Was I loyal to my goal?”
“Until the very end,” Satoru whispers.
“I can’t leave it then,” Suguru says, casually.
Satoru doesn’t even bother convincing him. He simply nods and watches Suguru leave.
Years later he stands before Suguru’s dying body.
“Any last words?” Satoru asks.
“No matter what anyone says, I always hated those monkeys.”
Satoru sits on the rubble cross-legged, nonchalant. He’s heard all this before. He will a few more times. Then he’ll get to his real world. And he’ll kill himself. Because the only one who can kill Satoru Gojo is Satoru Gojo himself. That was the curse and now he’s weak against it.
“But,” Suguru continues and Satoru knows this part too except Suguru says something different, something off-script, “I did always love you.”
The admission does little to dampen Satoru’s numbness. He takes it as face-value. As a fact than a feeling.
“Okay,” Satoru says, and his voice is so casual he can see it hitting Suguru like a slap to the face.
“Satoru,” Suguru tries again as if trying to awaken some form or response from Satoru, “I love you.”
“I heard you.”
“Why are you not saying anything, at least curse me a little at the end.”
Ah, Satoru thinks, back to the script then.
You were a wonderful memory, Suguru, Satoru thinks, can’t say, But I don’t want to live it again anymore.
Suguru heaves another breath, one more, then goes still.
___
“Don’t leave me,” Satoru says to Suguru, Riko’s body separating them.
“I won’t,” Suguru assures, voice soft.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Then he left him anyway.
___
“Say, Suguru,” Satoru starts quirkily, “Do you think we love each other in every universe.”
We don’t.
“Of course, I think that.”
Red against rubble.
“You said we loved each other in every universe.”
“Maybe not this one.”
___
“I mean, is there a guide available on what to do if your best friend goes absolutely nuts? No,” Satoru says to Suguru in Shinjuku and both of them are equally surprised by Satoru’s casualness.
“Am I even your best friend, Satoru, or your only friend?”
“Am I even your best friend anymore, Satoru, or will you forget me in a few years?”
Red. Red. So much red. Suguru smiles as he says that. As if he isn’t burnt into Satoru’s soul. As if he isn’t his other half. As if infinity could come and pass and Satoru could still forget him.
“Of course not,” Satoru answers, “you are my one and only.”
___
“Is this what love is?”
“No, this is what love should never be.”
___
“Was your love for me not enough?”
“I don’t know. But I did love you.”
The love was there. It did nothing to change the fate. But it was there.
___
“Why are you doing this to me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Satoru. There is a point to this. You said it yourself –”
“I didn’t. You did.
“My death makes you who you are.”
“I don’t want to be who I am.”
“It makes you stronger.”
“I didn’t want to be strong, Suguru. I just wanted to be loved.”
___
“Your own parents were non-sorcerers, Suguru. This is pointless.”
“And I killed them.”
“But you, a sorcerer, was born to them. You’re saying that all those unborn sorcerers’ lives don’t mean anything. That their life or death doesn’t matter.”
“Then I choose lesser of the two evils. No curses. No sorcerers. No deaths.”
___
“Is there a world out there where we are happy?”
“Is there one where I am not who I am?”
“I don’t think so, Satoru.”
“Then, no.”
___
Last Chance.
The hundredth chance.
Satoru feels as if he has done everything now. He wakes up in a pool of his own blood. Does a quick work of Toji. Gets Riko’s body and heads to Suguru as people scream and clap in appreciation. He has tried to tell Suguru of all that was yet to come and Suguru does nothing to change the fate. Of course, it can’t be that simple, it never is.
Suguru is dead set on his path and he doesn’t see that instead of making Satoru the strongest, it’s killing him. Suguru is damning them both to this fate and he doesn’t even realize it.
They’re both walking back to their dorms when Suguru suddenly stops, he looks at Satoru with concerned eyes before raising his hand and brushing the pad of his thumb against Satoru’s cheek, it comes away wet.
No, Satoru thinks, I’ve done this already, it didn’t help.
But he can’t stop it.
The silent tears leak then keep leaking and Suguru can’t even keep up with wiping them off and he can’t even hold Satoru because he is as still as stone and the tears just keep falling one after another after another.
“Satoru, it’s okay,” Suguru says.
“I think you’re going to leave me,” Satoru whispers and his voice is still even and casual but the hot tears still touch against his lips and die on his feet.
Suguru freezes upon hearing the words, then continues the wiping of Satoru’s face to no avail.
“Where would I go if I did?” Suguru asks and flashes him a smile which is supposed to comfort Satoru but it doesn’t because Satoru knows where he’ll go and it doesn’t even matter because the ‘where’ concept is wrong if Suguru’s ‘where’ is not right next to Satoru.
But he doesn’t say anything.
The tears don’t stop.
With some more comforting words from Suguru and rivulets upon rivulets of tears from Satoru, both of them reach Satoru’s dorm and Suguru pulls the door open. He makes Satoru sit on the bed and sits beside him, rubbing off his tears one after another.
Satoru wants to say everything right there and then but there would be no point to it. Suguru wouldn’t change. Suguru doesn’t want to.
I always hated those monkeys.
Satoru doesn’t want to change anything in this. He wants to live it as is. He doesn’t want Suguru to worry about him killing himself. He doesn’t think he can bear the regret of it.
So he sits there, still as a statue, as his eyes leak and leak as if each and every moment in the past has slipped pass his eyes now and screaming at Suguru to do something.
“Satoru, what bought this on?” Suguru asks.
He could say Riko, but even she feels like a distant memory now, years upon years upon years upon years. Satoru only sees the world in Suguru and Not-Suguru now.
Satoru jerks his head away, eyes hiding.
Suguru gently places his hand on Satoru’s cheek and pulls him towards his chest. Satoru hears Suguru’s heartbeat. Alive. Breathing. And for now, it’s enough. It has to be.
Shinjuku. Again.
“Goodbye, Satoru,” Suguru turns.
“Where will you go?”
A quirk of lips, a tiny, dull sparkle in Suguru’s eyes.
“My life doesn’t revolve around the mighty Satoru Gojo, you know.”
“But mine did around you.”
The words are not a quiet admission, nor are they shouted. Satoru says them as if stating a fact.
I am nothing without you. You are everything without me.
Suguru opens his mouth but Satoru doesn’t give him a chance to speak.
“If there is a world out there where we are happy, I hope it’s one where we don’t have this life. I hope it’s one where we are normal and we are going to a normal school and our fights are only limited to hallway clashes. Where we can grow old and sit in an old, comfortable chair and drink tea to wash away our worries.”
“You’re pathetic, Satoru.”
It’s a low blow. Both of them know it. Maybe the Satoru that was actually sixteen and not about two centuries, would have snarled at that. All teeth and scratch and monstrous. Something feral and little and unaware.
But this Satoru just tilts his head.
“I’m still as pathetic as the day I was silently crying tear after tear and asking you not to leave me.”
“You never asked me not to leave you.”
“I know you would anyway so there was no point in trying.”
A slight edge takes on Suguru’s voice, “Maybe if you had stopped me this day wouldn’t have come.”
“I’m stopping you now.”
“It’s too late now.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’m tired, Suguru.”
“So am I.”
“Then stay.”
“No.”
“Why.”
“Because things need to change because these monkeys –”
“Is your hatred for them greater than your love for me?”
At that Suguru stops and he shakes his head. “Low blow, Satoru.”
Satoru shrugs. This is the last one. After this he can die in peace. This is the last chance of seeing Suguru.
Satoru falls on his knees.
Suguru’s eyes widen.
Are you weak because you’re Satoru Gojo, or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re weak?
He immediately starts tugging Satoru up. People are already giving them side-glances now.
“Stop being dramatic, Satoru,” Suguru says urgently as he drags Satoru over to some alley. With a laughable coincidence, it’s the same place Satoru told Suguru of the time travel the first time.
Satoru shrugs again and as soon as Suguru lets go of him he falls on his knees again.
“Satoru, people are watching.”
“Let them.”
“They might get the wrong idea.”
“I said let them.”
Suguru stops talking. He stares at Satoru, on his knees, and Satoru let’s himself be judged for it, knees throbbing.
“At least turn your Limitless on,” Suguru urges softly but Satoru shakes his head.
“I’m fine. I’m the strongest.”
“Yes,” Suguru says with little to no patience, “You’re the strongest, Satoru, I know, we all know. Now get up and stop humiliating yourself.”
“I’m not humiliating myself, you do that enough for me.”
“Don’t talk nonsense now.”
Satoru shrugs again. He is still on his knees and without his Limitless he can feel the soft breeze rustling both of their hair. He thinks of Megumi and wonders how he is doing right now. Wonders if it’s still the same day back in his actual lifetime. He thinks of Yuji and Nobara. Of Nanami and Ijichi. Of Shoko. How’s the fight going? Will they make it alive? Who will kill Jogo. Who will kill the blood manipulator? Guess, he’ll know soon. But he’ll be sealed anyway so it doesn’t matter. It’s only a few more years now. Then he can be free. He can be happy. Not in a way he wanted to but any way is a way.
“Answer me this, Satoru,” Suguru starts and Satoru already knows the question coming his way.
“Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo, or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?’
“Neither. I’m the strongest because I have to be. And I’m Satoru Gojo because I have Suguru Geto by my side.”
“I’m leaving your side.”
“Then I’m simply the strongest because I have to be. Because no one can take on the curses I take on. Because no one can make the choices I make. I live to serve others and I always wished that that was how I die. But now, I am not too sure.”
Suguru seems taken aback by that.
His tone is almost soft when he speaks next, “I can’t stay, Satoru.”
“I know you can’t.”
“Then why are you still asking me to?”
“Because it’s who I am, Suguru. You can’t blame a bird for entangling itself, nor can you blame a mouse for trapping itself. It’s in their nature to run blindly for food even if they know the hunter’s near, it’s in my nature to go after you, even if I know there is no point.”
“Satoru…”
“Do you know why you were born, Suguru?”
Suguru slowly shakes his head. He, too, is on the ground now. Both of them kneeling against one another.
“You were born to kill me.”
“That’s not true –”
“Just as I was born to kill you. It’s a paradoxical situation, you see. For your death it’s more literal, for mine it’s mostly me. But…yeah. You were born to make me the strongest then drag me to be weaker than a trapped hare. I was born to make you the strongest then slowly strip that strength away from you. We are each other’s demise.”
“None of that will make me stay, Satoru.”
“No, I know it won’t. That’s what I’m saying. You were born to leave, Suguru. There is no world where you don’t. I know it. I’ve seen a hundred different worlds and in each of them you leave. You are born to leave and I’m born to watch you leave. It’s as if destiny wrote you in my life specifically to make you leave. It’s our nature, you see. Two sides of the same coin.”
“What are you saying right now?”
“I’m asking you to stay.”
“You know I can’t.”
“I’m asking you anyway.”
Suguru shakes his head and he stands, brushing pass Satoru.
The same, damn pattern. Again. One last time. After this there will be no more. Satoru is certain.
But he can’t help it. The words leaving his mouth. It’s in his nature. Satoru Gojo is not Satoru Gojo if he doesn’t chase after Suguru Geto.
“Do you want to hear a story, Suguru?”
“Satoru…”
“For old times’ sake. Please.”
Suguru is still somewhere behind his back, but hearing this, he comes around, leans against the wall and shrugs. “Humor me.”
“There was once a prince, ruling over a small city. He was rich, he had everything he wanted to have. Women lined outside his door, men scratched against his bedroom door to be let in, maids followed him around wherever he went, servants answering his every call. His life was one of luxury, you see. Then, one day, the prince is walking around the forest and comes across an elf. The elf has a sharpened face and softened eyes, hair as velvet as silk and grazing his shoulder.”
“Satoru…”
“The prince and the elf quickly become friends. They talk and laugh about everything. The prince still goes back to his castle and still has all luxury provided to him but-but it’s not the same, you see. Because every time there’s someone who desires him he wishes it to be the elf. Every time he goes to meet someone he wishes them to be the elf. The world, for him, has been divided simply into two factors – on one side is the elf, and on the other there’s everybody else.”
“One day the prince excitedly calls the elf over to his kingdom and shows him around. The elf doesn’t like this one bit. Because he doesn’t have a castle. He doesn’t have servants waiting for him at every corner and maids hovering around like concerned mothers. He doesn’t have a fully prepared meal for him each day, nor does he have people lining outside his house to greet him. He’s just an elf, you know. And the prince…he’s…he’s the prince.”
Satoru gives a small shrug.
“The elf doesn’t say his discomfort to the prince and the prince doesn’t notice because he’s naïve and he never has someone like the elf before. He ignores the elf’s worries and barrels on, leaving the elf behind and that breaks the elf.”
“Satoru,” Suguru interrupts gently, like summer breeze, “I can’t stay.”
“The elf couldn’t either,” Satoru smirks and Suguru’s lips quirk downwards. “He turned away from the prince and for years the prince lived in loneliness before the elf attacked his kingdom and the prince had to kill him. It was sad, you see. But it happened. Then a few years went by and the prince came across a fairy.”
“Where are you going with this?”
There are those who fall to their knees against the curse and those who rise against it, Honored One. Do you know which one you are?
“The fairy waved around her magic staff and said, ‘you have a hundred tries to try and make the elf stay, after a hundred, you’ll be back here and the elf will still be gone.’ So poof!”
He makes a dramatic noise, hands thrown up.
“The prince disappears and finds himself at the time he was showing the elf his kingdom. Now you see, the prince tries his best. He’s trying his best to make the elf stay but the elf he can’t. He says he can’t stay. And in ninety-nine chances, the prince fails. In the hundredth chance, he pulls the elf towards an alley and says, ‘do you want to hear a story?’”
“Satoru stop…”
“He says, ‘there was once a sorcerer destined to be the strongest and then there was this other sorcerer destined to be his weakness, they met, they fell apart –”
“Okay! Enough. Satoru stop. You’re hurting yourself.”
Satoru is on his knees, mind void of any and all emotion. He takes a deep breath through his nose, and exhales through his mouth.
“I’ve done this ninety-nine times, Suguru. This is my last chance to make things right.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve failed so fucking miserably in my ninety-nine tries I can’t –”
His voice wavers.
“I can’t lose you, Suguru. I am not the strongest without you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I know you won’t stay. So all this is pointless anyway. I’ve done unthinkable things trying to make you stay but none of them work, Suguru. Please, tell me what to do.”
He’s on his knees, tears seeping out of his eyes, begging his best friend to love him.
How do you feel, Honored One. You can have the entire world at your feet yet here you are, begging for something you know you can’t have.
“I want to make it right, Suguru. I’ve tried, ninety-nine times. Ninety-nine different lifetimes. And I’m not.. I can’t… don’t leave me.”
Satoru’s voice wavers into an ugly sob and lands against Suguru to judge. The strongest sorcerer, on his knees, in a murky alleyway, sobbing at his best friend’s feet.
Pathetic.
He doesn’t even try to stop the sobs. He knows people are watching him but he can’t help it. He doesn’t even know if Suguru will leave him just like this or stay with him long enough so Satoru can calm down. He isn’t certain if he can stop. All that hurt oozing out of him and tears soaking through his shirt.
A rustle behind him and Satoru turns, lightning quick, grabbing Suguru’s trousers.
“Don’t leave me!” He sobs and it’s pathetic.
Suguru drops to his knees too and pushes Satoru’s face on his shirt. Satoru can’t have enough of him. He sobs and sobs and sobs until his throat is raw. He continues to sob even after that because he can’t stop himself. Because he’s too selfish to let go of this opportunity. The next time he’ll see Suguru again the man would be dying.
I think you’re going to leave me.
“I will quit sorcery if you want.”
He knows that won’t work. He has tried. Suguru still leaves.
”I’ll go with you if you allow me to.”
He knows Suguru will deny it.
”I just want you to stay, please.”
He knows Suguru won’t but it is in Satoru Gojo’s nature to sob against his one and only and beg him to stay.
You can’t expect a fish to climb a tree, you can’t will a monkey to fly – you can’t make Satoru Gojo let go of Suguru Geto.
Satoru’s drowsy with tears once he finally pulls away. Feeling bile rise in his throat. He breathes out through his nose, carefully. Hiccupping, he nods to Suguru who helps him stand.
It’s night now.
Suguru manages to get him to his dorm. Somehow. Satoru isn’t sure how. Last he remembers Suguru was to be executed on sight.
Suguru sets Satoru gently on the bed and rubs the hair out of his face.
“Tell me everything.”
So Satoru does. From beginning to end. Everything he can manage. He tells Suguru of the actual lifetime, then all the chances one by one. He omits out minor details as to when he kills himself multiple time. When he drinks himself to the point of having a liver infection, or the time he lights himself on fire to feel some form of pain beside plain emptiness.
But as he nears the darkest parts of his story, he looks away because he can’t tell Suguru that he kills Haibara in order to keep him, can’t tell him that he kills Mimiko and Nanako. But the words fall out of his mouth as if automatic. He can’t stop himself either. He can only look away and speak, desperation rubbed raw.
Finally, he takes a deep breath, “This is my hundredth chance. The last one.”
Suguru looks at Satoru, at his face, his hair, his cheeks. Satoru feels naked under that scrutinizing gaze.
“You know the methods have to change, Satoru.”
Satoru doesn’t even skip a beat –
“What do you think will happen if there are no curses. I’ll tell you what’ll happen. The sorcerers will fight each other. The Gojo clan and the Zen’in clan have been enemies for centuries. They’ll eradicate each other. Right now, sorcerers as a whole are the apex predators but once there is no prey, they’ll turn on each other.”
“Why does that bother you?” Suguru asks, “You know you’re already at the top of the food chain.”
To that Satoru has no answer.
So he kisses Suguru.
This is his final chance. His only chance. He already knows he’s losing but he can’t help himself. He climbs on top of Suguru and slots his lips against him and breathes through that. Because if this is the last memory he can keep of Suguru Geto, he’s going to make sure it’s a damn good one.
Suguru kisses back and Satoru doesn’t need to imagine the taste of it, or the passionate licks, because he’s done this before. He doesn’t even need to imagine the feeling of Suguru inside him because he has been there before. Not that Suguru recalls.
But this is different.
It’s not animalistic and primal, it’s not a battle of emotions. It’s sloppy and soft and gentle and Satoru feels Suguru caressing his skin as if Satoru just hasn’t informed him of his countless murders. Satoru moans Suguru’s name in desperation and Suguru gasps his in adoration.
They meld against the bed and into each other. Suguru’s fingertips burn Satoru in a way stars burn against the cold cosmos, everywhere they touch Satoru feels high from it. This is what feeling alive is like, he thinks. This is what it all is.
He wants this moment never to end because come morning, Suguru will be gone.
So he moans Suguru’s name in desperation and adoration and nothing short of begging him to stay just by the way he says his name. He cries through it all and Suguru brushes his tears away. Hushed whispers of ‘should I stop’ and guttural answers of ‘don’t you dare’. They spend the night wiping Satoru’s tears that keep on emerging one after the next and even when they’re both collapsing against each other, exhausted, Satoru’s tears don’t stop and Suguru still kisses them away. He does that with such a gentleness that Satoru shudders each time.
It's not passionate or animalistic. It’s not lust or love. It’s what both their throats cannot say.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
Don’t leave. Don’t leave. Don’t leave. Don’t leave.
Satoru cries throughout the night and it’s by no means silent so he doesn’t know why nobody has shown up to their dorms as yet but maybe it’s because Suguru already talked to someone or maybe Suguru and Satoru are together in his Limitless bubble.
The tears don’t stop, and when they do, Satoru is fast asleep.
___
Satoru wakes up on his dorm room bed and it’s empty. He turns to the side and retches. He feels the numbness seeping back in his fingers.
The same damn pattern.
He twists the doorknob and is immediately hit with something hard across his face.
“Ohhhhh, you really went there, Kugisaki!” Yuji’s voice.
“Shut up! It wasn’t on purpose. Sensei, are you okay, I’m sorry.”
Satoru opens his eyes and finds Yuji, Kugisaki, and Megumi standing before him. Behind Megumi, there are two other girls, they seem familiar but he isn’t sure.
He’s…back?
Megumi pokes his side and Satoru stares at him.
“Stop that.”
“What happened to your Limitless?”
Satoru shakes his head at Megumi, his eyes are still fixed at Kugisaki and her dead face is swimming in his vision.
He swallows. “You know I’ll always protect you all, right?”
“Yes, sensei!” Yuji salutes in his usual jovial way and the strange girls at the back roll their eyes.
“Please,” one of them retort, “Kugisaki just managed to hit you with a rolled-up newspaper.”
“Hey!” Kugisaki shouts, “I didn’t do it on purpose!”
Aaaand her hammer is out.
“I believe you, Nobara!” Satoru rushes to say, mouth working on autopilot.
His Limitless comes back full force and Megumi scowls at him as his jabbing finger unables to jab.
Satoru is only sixty percent sure of what it is that’s happening. The girls at the back are still as unknown as they were before, one of them is tapping away on her phone like an angsty teen and the other is staring at Satoru in bewilderment.
“Are you okay, Gojo Sensei?” Yuji asks him and Satoru automatically says ‘yea I’m great!’
“UGH!” The quiet girl beside the phone girl shouts, “It’s too early in the morning to deal with this! Why don’t we just let Geto Sensei take care of this.”
At Geto’s mention Satoru freezes and each of his students (plus the two girls) seem to notice.
Dare he hope…
“What’s this commotion about…oh you’re up!” Suguru greets as if it’s a normal day. As if he’s not dead already and as if Satoru wasn’t crying uncontrollably on him last night.
Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?
Are you as weak as you show, or are you showing that you’re as weak?
Are you telling me you love me because you’re dying, or are you dying because you’re telling me you love me?
Are you the weakest because you’re Satoru Gojo, or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the weakest?
“Suguru,” he whispers, his throat constricting.
Suguru furrows his brows for only a moment before his eyes widen and he starts ushering the children away.
“No newspaper fights this early in the morning… Kugisaki, apologize to Yuji. I don’t care who started it, you were the one who hit Gojo on his face… Yes, I know it was an accident… No, don’t call your friends names Megumi… Put away the damn phone Nanako!”
It’s all so domestic that Satoru almost starts laughing and shooting hollow purples around.
Once the children are all cleared, Suguru looks at him.
He’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
“So…” he starts pushing Satoru back into the room with gentle pushes, “You’re back.”
Dare he hope…
”You forgot everything the next morning. Only remembered the argument and nothing more. I tried to get something out of you but it was as if you’re blank and – oh…”
Satoru’s head falls against Suguru’s shoulder.
His breath stutters. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”
Suguru, taking advantage of the Limitless down, gives a pinch at Satoru’s abdomen.
“Does that feel like you’re dreaming.”
“Everything else does.”
Suguru just holds him.
For once, Satoru dare hopes because even now he thinks that he’ll wake up again in his own pool of blood and start the entire cycle again, worse, he’ll wake up inside the seal and Kenjaku will be outside wearing Suguru’s face.
But right now he can’t help it, the hope that soars through his heart and sits in his throat, making it squeeze senselessly. He’s here, in Suguru’s arms. He was about to leave the past and the present too but right now he’s in Suguru’s arms and that’s all he can think about.
Maybe he can hope.
Maybe, for once, he doesn’t have to be at the top of the food chain alone.
It takes the strongest to kill the strongest, but it takes someone even stronger to save the strongest.