Chapter Text
Deep underground, it wasn't possible to tell night from day. For ordinary people, that is. Satoru could see the sun rising even from hundreds of meters below the ground.
When Satoru woke him up, Suguru groaned but obediently opened his eyes. He was so warm and comfortable—his head had migrated to his friend's lap at some point, apparently—but he knew he couldn't remain like this forever. Not when they were still on enemy territory, not when there was a curse with the Six Eyes watching them.
Suguru sat up and stretched a bit, his joints popping. He looked around and, finding no difference to how it'd been before, unsummoned his two curses.
They didn't have any food here, the vending machines having been taken away by the workers, but there were toilets still open, so water wasn't an issue. As Suguru's throat was sand-dry, he pulled Satoru up and went to the nearest one to clean his face and drink some water from the tap. Once he did so, he instantly felt better.
Satoru used the toilet and washed his hands. When they were both done, they decided to discuss their next steps right there. Funnily enough, the restroom was actually a nice change of scenery.
"Future you sent us these visions as a warning, so the technique should end once we’ve seen them all, right?" Suguru mused from a closed toilet seat. Satoru, who had settled on the counter in the space between two sinks, hummed thoughtfully.
"I think so," he nodded. "I doubt future me was able to send a lot of cursed energy—it’s still time travel, after all—so the visions should stop soon enough."
This sounded promising. Suguru would honestly prefer not to wander through apocalyptic landscapes for days.
"What about Kamo?" he asked.
"You mean those blood bullets?" Satoru tilted his head this way and that before shrugging. "Probably an ally that agreed to help future me with this. I have no idea who it could be though. All the Kamo I know are selfish pricks."
"Aren't all clan sorcerers like this?" Suguru raised a corner of his mouth in a smirk. Satoru sputtered as if in indignation, but Suguru saw mirth in his eyes. He chuckled fully now, shaking his head. "Anyway. If a Kamo has helped future you, then there might've been others. We should be prepared for sudden techniques and try not to fight them too much."
"Those blood bullets could've killed us," Satoru argued.
"Yes, if we weren't us. I think future you would trust us to be able to avoid something like this. He's still you, after all."
Satoru grinned.
"I bet future me is super cool! Do you think I'll learn teleportation by then? I'll definitely figure out my domain expansion soon enough, so that's a yes, but there must be other techniques I can learn from future me! Hmm, how do you think, will we see the rest of future me's fight with those special grades? We've barely seen anything, there must be so many cool techniques—"
Suguru let him ramble. He felt much calmer now, the sleep having done him some good. Listening to his friend, Suguru felt the warmth settling in his heart.
God, he’d missed Satoru. He hadn't realized how much, not until he had his friend close again. It'd been so long since he’d felt hole like this—placid, unburdened. He’d almost forgotten how life always seemed easier when they were together.
Suguru stood from his place and walked up to Satoru who was still babbling about this and that. Suguru took his hand and gently pulled him down from the counter.
"Let's see the rest of what the other you wanted to show us, Satoru. We'll figure everything out afterwards, okay?"
Satoru took a breath and nodded.
"Okay."
Suguru smiled, terribly fond.
It’d been hard to deny his feelings when Satoru had been away God knew where doing solo missions. With Satoru close like this, they were impossible to ignore.
Satoru took out his sunglasses and put them on again, shielding his eyes from view. Suguru looked away and led them out.
They left the restroom and went back to the curse. It was as unresponsive as before, occasionally repeating a line or two in different voices that meant nothing without the context.
"What do you think we should—" Suguru started, but then Satoru manifested a Blue and sent it at the curse. Suguru sighed. "Never mind."
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, as if coming from everywhere at once, a voice thundered—not loud, but strangely distorted and filled with cursed energy, the vibrations reaching their very bones.
"Go back!"
They turned back automatically and started towards the toilet again, but before they could reach the door, the floor disappeared from under them again.
When they came to, they were on the lowest level platform from the first vision. The special grades were still there, same as future Satoru, but now every transfigured human was lying on the floor, gruesomely dismembered. Seeing two severed monstrous heads in older Satoru's hands, the way he was breathing heavily, it wasn't hard to guess who'd done it.
Then a cube rolled on the floor right to the man.
All three of them stared at it. The cube looked ridiculous, like a big dice with eyes all over it. Suguru had never seen anything like it before.
Future Satoru seemed ready to bolt away from the weird thing when a voice stopped him. It sounded cheerful, mindless of the death all around them, and so nauseatingly fake Suguru felt dirty just listening to it. To his horror, the voice was his own.
"Yo, Satoru!"
Suguru slowly turned his head.
What the fuck.
Are you fucking ki—
"Gate open.”
Suguru looked at his older self and couldn't comprehend it.
Him, a monk? Him, smiling while sealing Satoru away? Him, fighting Satoru?!
It couldn't happen. Not in any universe, not in any timeline.
He'd never hurt Satoru. Never.
Suguru walked up to the fake and looked him in the face. The fake was grinning so wide his eyes were barely open, but Suguru needed just one good look into them to know—this wasn't him. The body was his, yes, but it wasn't him.
To his relief, older Satoru agreed with him.
"Who are you?"
Suguru glanced at Satoru—both of them. The older one, bound tight, kneeling against his will and glaring at the fake with righteous fury. The younger one, his eyes utterly lost, unable to look away from the fake like that bastard even mattered.
Suguru walked up to his friend, hiding the fake from Satoru's sight. He stopped right in front and took Satoru’s face in his hands, forcing Satoru to look at him.
"That's not me, Satoru," he said, urging Satoru to believe him. He knew that bastard wasn’t him, because he couldn’t be. Suguru routinely doubted himself and his morals, knew how close to insanity he sometimes was, but if there was one constant in his life, one thing he could never doubt…
It was that Gojo Satoru was his one and only. This was the oath written on his soul, the truth in his blood. Time didn’t matter, circumstances didn’t matter, even their relationship or lack thereof didn’t really matter—Suguru had only so much place in his heart, and Gojo Satoru had claimed it for himself. There was no way out of this, not anymore. He’d rather die than let Satoru be hurt by his hand.
So, when Satoru's eyes strayed to the fake again, Suguru forcefully brought their foreheads together. He kept them close, not allowing Satoru to look away from his eyes.
"I'm here, Satoru," he whispered. “That one is a fake. Whoever he is, he’s not me, okay? Please, trust me.”
After a moment of trying to find something in his eyes, Satoru nodded. Suguru sighed in relief, nodding back. He pulled away so that they could see what was going on. He was about to draw his hands back, too, but then Satoru grabbed them and kept them there.
Suguru glanced up, startled, but Satoru didn't say anything, just looking at him like Suguru would disappear any moment and clenching his fingers like a lifeline.
Suguru’s heart ached. He breathed through it and, when Satoru was about to let go of him, took one of Satoru’s hands in his, holding tight.
When Suguru returned his attention to the scene before him, the fake was still going on and on with his sick performance. Apparently, the fake really liked winning and taunting his enemies. What a pompous dick.
For the first time in his life, Suguru wished to see his body being gnawed on by a giant curse.
Thankfully, future Satoru didn’t believe the performance either.
"My Six Eyes tell me you're Geto Suguru," he said, "but my soul knows otherwise! Hurry up and answer! Who the hell are you?!"
Suguru waited.
He didn't know what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn't what followed.
The bastard pulled at the forehead stitches on his body and raised the upper part of his skull. And inside the skull…
Well. It certainly wasn't a normal human brain.
Suguru wanted to vomit. He would’ve, were they not on this goddamned platform. He couldn’t allow himself to look away, not when all of this was most likely his fault.
He forced himself to think.
Was this a curse? Another body transformation, like those monstrous humans? An unknown cursed technique?
How had this bastard got hold of Suguru's body anyway? It had his memories, this was clear from how it addressed Satoru—did it mean Suguru had the potential to become a vessel, similar to that pink-haired kid? Was his soul still in there, caged by the will of whatever that brain with teeth was?
Fortunately, the asshole explained all of it himself. Not like it helped much, but still. Useful to know that there was a body hopping cursed spirit out there somewhere lusting over Suguru's body and technique.
Fuck his future, honestly.
"You didn't have Ieiri Shoko personally get rid of Geto Suguru’s body, did you?" The bastard taunted. Future Satoru didn't answer, glaring at the fake. "You're only considerate during such awkward moments…”
Suguru wanted to kill this body-hopping shithead so much.
"Okkotsu Yuta, huh?" Another kid, probably, since Suguru had never heard of him. How many years into the future this was exactly? Ten? Fifteen?
Anyway. Whoever this Okkotsu was, he wouldn't be very useful now.
Also, why the hell future him had been fighting a kid? Had he gone crazy?
Although… he might’ve, actually.
Suguru recalled the last few months, the state he was in. He'd had depression in the past, knew what it could lead to. If something along the line ended as terribly as the Star Plasma mission, Suguru might've snapped—it wasn’t so hard to imagine, really.
So, if Suguru had gone nuts and then attacked a kid at some point… well, he would not have blamed Satoru for finishing him off. Knowing himself, the depths of madness he could reach when at his worst... Yes, Suguru would not have blamed him at all. If Suguru had fallen so low, he would’ve accepted death as a mercy. It made sense, in a sick way.
But, judging by the way Satoru’s eyes widened in shock, his friend didn't see it the same way.
"What," Satoru whispered, his voice barely audible like there was something lodged in his throat. When Satoru turned those disbelieving eyes to him, Suguru winced guiltily. "Suguru?"
Suguru looked down and away. They were silent for a moment.
Satoru still didn’t let go of his hand.
"After we finish with this damned mission," Satoru said quietly, "we'll talk. Okay?"
Suguru breathed. He nodded.
"Okay."
He forced himself to continue watching the memory. If he wanted to prevent this disaster from happening, he needed to have as much information as he could.
They had to stop this stitched asshole and his plans. Given that future Satoru decided to share these exact memories and not others, Suguru could bet that Sukuna's resurrection was also a part of this asshole’s plan. And if someone like Sukuna followed his part of the plan, that meant the two had known each other before the sealing of the fingers. This was a plan centuries in the making, probably with a binding vow or two.
Had been the sealing of Sukuna's fingers intentional on his part, too? Those artifacts couldn't be destroyed—not by normal means. In retrospect, it was as if the fingers had been preserved like that for the sole purpose of Sukuna's resurrection. Was the whole of jujutsu history a complete bullshit?!
Not like that would be something too surprising, of course. Satoru had told him enough about the lies written in Gojo family archives. Still, if what he suspected was true… they wouldn’t find any help in books or older sorcerers, would they?
If this brain bastard had existed since the Heian era, then it could be the writer of most existing jujutsu books, at least in Japan. There was no way to know what historic figure was or wasn't a walking corpse controlled by this brain rot. It could've been anybody—the stitches were easy enough to hide by makeup or long hair, and the bastard seemed pretty experienced at acting.
Suguru imagined the information network centuries in the higher echelons of jujutsu sorcerers would allow to create and felt dizzy. How could they possibly counter this?!
Suguru breathed. He couldn’t allow himself to break down right now. He had to watch the memory till the end. He owed it to this version of his best friend—the one who had to kill him.
"... It's about time for you to wake up," said older Satoru, his eyes burning with wraith. "How are you gonna let yourself get used like that, Suguru?"
And, against all odds...
The arm of this walking corpse turned against its master.
Suguru saw this but still couldn't believe it. Future him was dead, wasn’t he?
Was the asshole acting again, giving Satoru a false hope?
"The body is the soul, and the soul is the body."
Was this true? Was his soul still inside there somewhere?
Huh. If so…
THEN WHY THE FUCK WAS THE BRAIN BASTARD STILL THERE?!
Suguru let go of Satoru’s hand to not hurt him, barely able to control himself.
He was trembling with rage—he couldn't remember ever feeling this angry. This was his body, and there was apparently his soul in there somewhere, but still his best friend got sealed. Geto Suguru’s body was used as a puppet to seal Gojo Satoru—the only person in this shitty ass world who mattered.
By his own hands. With his own words.
The last thing Satoru had seen before getting sealed in a tiny cube—alone, with no sustenance, no hope to get out—was Suguru standing over him with a smug smile on his face.
Was this a fucking joke?!
The world around them turned black, the platform put into darkness, and it wasn't just because the memory had come to an end. No, Suguru knew it was him, the gate to his curse dimension now open behind him. None were crawling out—not yet, since his rage didn't have a tangible target—but he could feel them squirming in there, yearning to get out and bite into his enemies.
If only the enemy was in front of him, real and ready for the kill, but alas—it was rarely this simple. The bastard needed to be found first, and for all they knew, it could be anywhere. Wearing anyone’s body, too—Kamo’s, Gojo’s, a random civilian’s, you name it. The only thing they could watch out for were the stitches, but why wouldn’t the asshole hide them first chance it got?
Just as sudden as the rage came, it left him. His body sagged, utterly exhausted. The dark maw of his dimension closed shut. Suguru would've fallen if not for the strong arms that caught him.
"Suguru?" now Satoru seemed truly panicked. Suguru smirked bitterly—it was the first time he made his best friend sound so distressed. And if this future was any indication, it wouldn't be the last.
Was there even any point in trying to prevent it all? Suguru knew neither he nor Satoru were infallible—they were very much mortal and prone to mistakes. If they tried searching for the body hopper, the bastard would probably find out about it right away and hide even better—or snatch up Suguru's corpse all that sooner. Just pay another sorcerer killer out there, and they’d be dead soon enough. Well, Suguru would be, because he couldn't use the Reversed Cursed technique like Satoru could. And with him dead...
Suguru closed his eyes.
Was it too late for him to quit this job and drown somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean?
"Suguru..."
Oh no.
When Suguru opened his eyes again, he saw Gojo Satoru crying.
There were tear tracks on his cheeks and chin. His eyelids were red and puffy. Satoru's eyes shined with Infinity—even in such a state, he still couldn't allow himself to lower it, not after what Fushiguro had done. There were fingers grasping at Suguru's shoulders, blunt nails digging into his skin through the uniform.
Gojo Satoru looked like he was about to fall apart. It was gut-wrenchingly painful to look at him.
Suguru didn't think.
His body moved on its own as if he was a puppet already. Perhaps, there really was a soul inside him, and if so, all it wanted was for Satoru not to cry.
Suguru tugged him close and hugged him with all his might.
Suguru ran his fingers through the soft white hair, letting Satoru’s head fall onto his shoulder. Satoru clutched him back none too gently and was now wetting his uniform with tears.
Suguru held tight, not letting go.
His own dark and vaguely suicidal thoughts didn't matter. His fears and weaknesses didn't matter. The brain bastard, the future of the jujutsu world—none of it mattered right now.
Nothing but the man in his arms.
Suguru hummed soothingly, his body a pillar for Satoru to latch on. He rubbed his cheek against Satoru's hair, his chest full off tenderness, protectiveness, love. He kissed Satoru's temple and continued humming, pitching his voice so that it was reassuring, healing. He held Satoru like he wanted to, like he would his most precious person in the world, and in that moment, he didn't care about consequences.
When Suguru felt Satoru's body sagging—from emotional distress, relief, physical exhaustion, or all of them combined—he summoned a large serpent and ordered it to form a circle around them, shielding them from the outside world. He sat on the floor and pulled Satoru in his lap, not letting go of him even for a second.
Satoru was trembling and crying silently, his face wet against Suguru's neck. Satoru's nose was cold, so Suguru raised his leg higher and curled around Satoru to shield him better, even though he knew it wouldn't do much in an empty train station with no heating on. It was a shame he didn’t have a curse like that volcano head—one more reason to get his hands on it as fast as possible.
Speaking of curses…
Suguru glanced up at the ceiling. Kokomon was still hanging up there, but...
Its eyes were all black again. No Six Eyes.
Did it mean this was over? Were there only three memories they needed to see? Or did the energy future Satoru had imbedded into the curse run out prematurely?
Did Suguru really want to know?
He sighed and summoned a special grade to attack the mumbling curse. This time, it only needed one strike for the exorcism to work.
Suguru watched it turn into dust and scatter away without a trail. He waited, leaving the special grade on guard. Five minutes. Ten.
Nothing.
When he breathed in, he couldn't feel the overwhelming energy of this place anymore. It was gone.
He dismissed the special grade but left the serpent—even though the curse produced no warmth, it formed a nest around them that was better than nothing, and Satoru needed all the comfort he could get right now. Both of them did.
Suguru closed his eyes and burrowed into Satoru's hair, curling around him even more. Slowly, the weight in his soul got a little lighter.
.
Somehow, Satoru managed to get three solid hours of sleep. Suguru was glad—Satoru desperately needed it. Still, when Satoru opened his eyes, Suguru teased him.
"Feeling better, sleepy head?"
Satoru blinked at him drowsily, then groaned and burrowed back into his chest. Suguru held him, not minding at all.
"Is it over?" Satoru mumbled somewhere near his clavicles.
Suguru glanced up at the ceiling again. Still empty.
"Yes," he said. "It ran out of its borrowed cursed energy, so I was able to exorcize it."
"Oh. Good." They were silent for a moment. "I don't know if I feel sad about it or not. Is it weird?"
Yeah, Suguru could empathize.
"Those visions were enough, I think," he said after some thought. "Future you must've made sure we see everything important. If the curse ran out of energy, then even if there was something else it could show us, it wasn't very crucial."
Satoru hummed, rubbing his face against Suguru's shirt like a kitten.
"You're probably right," he admitted, his breath making Suguru shiver. "If I ever resort to such a convoluted time travel, I will make sure it works."
"But has it actually worked?" Suguru wondered aloud. "Are our timelines compatible enough for the information to be useful?"
"Yes," said Satoru confidently. "I’m sure our world has the same variables as that one and, until yesterday, has followed the same path. Otherwise, that curse would not have appeared here. I don’t make such mistakes."
Suguru couldn't argue that.
"So you really got sealed," he concluded. By me, he didn’t say.
"Yes."
"And that brain with teeth—"
"Yep. It's somewhere out there."
Here goes his last hope.
"Well..." Suguru sighed. "Damn it."
Satoru laughed and looked up at him, blue eyes twinkling.
"Yeah," he agreed.
"Crap. Shit. Fu—" When Suguru opened his mouth for another curse, Satoru slapped his palm over it.
"What a dirty mouth you have, Sugu-chan." Satoru was smiling now, even though his eyes were still a bit sad.
Suguru would communicate solely in swear words, if only he'd never have to see Satoru crying again.
Feeling silly, he licked the palm still on his lips. Surprisingly, Satoru didn't recoil in disgust like he had done before and smiled wider instead.
"Aww, are you a puppy now?" he cooed. "Sugu-chan, I like you very much, but you can't be my puppy. I'm so sorry! I'd love to have you, but pets are not allowed at my dorm. Plus, it's already hard taking care of Shoko, and she doesn't even need me taking her for a walk." Then he added. "Well, not the bathroom kind. Just the social interaction and breathing fresh air kind. She's more like a plant, really—needs watering, has sharp thorns, withers away without sunlight, and—"
Suguru couldn't take it anymore—he laughed. Satoru pulled back his palm and watched him laugh with a single-minded focus, as if trying to memorize every single detail.
"I can't remember when I've last heard you laugh," said Satoru, sounding very sad about it. Suguru got silent. "Has it really been this bad, Suguru?"
Suguru remembered the dark pit inside his chest that Amanai and Kuroi's deaths left, the nausea haunting his days and nights, only ever getting worse. He remembered Satoru growing distant, becoming the strongest all alone, not needing him anymore, and... Suguru couldn't deny it.
"It has," he said. "I’m sorry."
Satoru opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed, and tried again.
"But why? Was it because of Fushiguro?"
Although a defeat to someone like Toji wasn't the most motivating experience, Suguru knew that it was only a part of the problem.
"Him, too." He sighed and leaned back against the serpent still guarding them. After hours of holding him, Suguru finally forced himself to let go of Satoru and make some space between them. "Mostly Kuroi and Amanai. And the cultists." He would often wake up at two or three a.m. to that clapping echoing in his ears. Sighing, he ran fingers through the strands of hair that had gotten out of his messy bun. "I also had more back-to-back missions lately, same as you. This had an effect, I think."
Satoru knew him enough to put two and two together.
"Suguru… how many curses have you consumed since Fushiguro?"
Suguru shrugged.
"About eight hundred, maybe more." He fidgeted a bit before forcing himself to stop. "I… I have to become stronger, Satoru. I don't want to become another burden on your shoulders."
I want to stand next to you, to fight next to you. I want to be able to protect you, to see you live and smile. I want you to not have to keep the Infinity when I'm around. I want—
Suguru wanted many things. Too many, really, for a friend. He was greedy, insatiable; he wanted Satoru all to himself, forever. He yearned to be deserving of Gojo Satoru, to be able to stand next to him as an equal.
He wanted Satoru. Plain and simple.
That day, he’d thought he’d never see Satoru again. And even when it had turned out his friend had survived, Suguru still thought he'd lost him after he’d seen Satoru in the temple, carrying Amanai's body. And without that thread holding him above water, there was very little he could use to not drown.
His work? He exorcized and consumed more curses than ever before, but it didn't seem to matter. New ones always popped out, natural and human disasters producing stronger and more numerous curses. He did his job day in and day out, but there were no fewer curses than before. Some days, he wondered if what he and other sorcerers did even had meaning. He wondered, when he eventually had to look into the dead face of someone he loved, would he find the will to go on like this?
He didn’t know the answer.
Now, however… he had no other choice. After those visions of the future, Suguru couldn't allow himself to wallow in depression—not anymore. Not with Satoru's life and safety on the line.
But even so, everything that had happened before didn't just disappear. There was a rot in his mind waiting for him to allow it to take hold. He knew he'd changed, and that this wasn't just a part of growing up. Nothing about all that had happened was normal, he knew that much.
Theoretically, he could understand how future him had become a curse user. He could even guess how he’d explained to himself why he had to leave Satoru alone. If he thought his presence would do more damage than good, then he'd leave, because he was selfish, yes, but Satoru always took priority. If, at some point, Suguru felt he couldn't stay without setting off a sequence of events that would result in Satoru's death, he'd leave and cease any contact. His wishes wouldn't matter there.
Although, it seemed that ceasing contact wouldn’t work either. Whatever fondness older Satoru still had for his school friend had been enough for some manipulating bastard to take hold of Suguru's body and get Satoru sealed.
Suguru would've run away right now if he didn't know it was already too late. Although—
"You'll never be a burden for me."
Suguru looked up. Satoru's eyes were focused on him, burning with power and determination. Even though they weren't touching anymore, Satoru sitting in front of him, Suguru felt himself shiver. Glancing away, he dismissed the serpent to give himself more space.
"Suguru."
Suguru stubbornly shook his head.
"I’ve gotten you sealed, Satoru. You can try denying it, but I know I’m a burden, now more than ever."
"No, you're not!"
"I am." Suguru's lips twisted sadly. He couldn't look at his friend anymore. "I know I can't consume all the curses in the world, Satoru. I certainly won't be able to absorb that brain bastard—whoever they are, they're certainly centuries old, and my will won't stand a chance against theirs. I'll lose again." He bit his tongue. He was trailing away from the topic. "Anyway, I'm not strong enough to avoid whatever the future holds for me. I'll try, of course I will, but..." He chuckled without mirth. "Apparently, you weren't even the one to defeat me in the end. You just had to finish me off."
Satoru clenched his hands into fists, breathed out with a shudder, and quickly stood up. Then he walked up to a wall and hit it so hard a crater formed with a net of cracks crawling in all directions.
Dust and small rubble rained from the ceiling. Some ended in Suguru's hair, but he barely noticed. No, all he could see was Satoru—righteous, angry, heavenly strong. Suguru couldn't fully understand the emotion on his friend's face, but it took his breath away.
Satoru shook his hand to get rid of the dust and turned back to Suguru. He was standing tall, menacing, his spine rigid, his eyes burning with Blue. An ancient god reborn in a human body. But, despite everything, Suguru wasn't afraid of him even for a moment.
Given all they'd seen in the last few hours, the most logical conclusion for Satoru would be to get rid of him before he or his body could destroy the world. But even so, Suguru knew in his heart—Satoru would never do that. Not now, not ever.
Suguru remained silent. Even if could manage a breath without his chest constricting painfully, he didn't have a lot left to say.
Satoru, however, had plenty.
"You're so stupid!" Satoru screamed and started pacing. Suguru raised an eyebrow, surprised by this turn of the conversation. "I can't believe you! And you were hiding these moronic thoughts for how long? Since Amanai? Earlier?"
Satoru kicked at a ticket terminal, instantly turning it into a pile of trash. Then he stepped on the largest remaining part, creating another crater, this time on the floor.
Suguru felt the wave of impact even from a distance but stayed where he was. He couldn't move even if he wanted, his eyes glued to the figure above him.
"I thought you understood! I thought..." Satoru shook his head, squeezing his eyes for a moment. He sneered and kicked a bench, wood exploding in a brown cloud. "But I was wrong! You're a complete idiot, Suguru!"
When Suguru felt his words won't come out as a hoarse mess, he opened his mouth.
"Can I ask why?" He even sounded calm, surprisingly enough.
Satoru pointed at him, the rage in his eyes not calming one bit.
"Because!"
Suguru raised a corner of his lips. Even while being shouted at, with everything around him getting pulverized, he still couldn't help the affection blooming in his heart.
"Don't smile at me!" Satoru roared and resumed his chaotic pacing. "You're so infuriating, you know that? Why did you even stop me from offing those cultists if you wanted to kill them yourself?"
Now that was an abrupt change of topic.
Suguru forced himself to remain calm.
"Because there would've been no point in it."
"But there will be a point in your death?" Satoru questioned. Suguru smartly kept his mouth shut, but it didn't seem to work. "There will be a point in leaving me, won’t there?"
They held eye contact for a minute. And in the end...
Suguru gave up. He couldn't lie, not when Satoru was looking at him like that.
"Yes. There'll be a point in that," he admitted.
Satoru stared at him as if waiting for Suguru to take this back. Suguru didn't. When Satoru realized this, he walked up to Suguru, his steps loud, heavy, and menacing, and crouched in front of him.
Suguru looked calmly back at his friend. He fully expected a punch to the face or maybe even a proper fight, but...
“Wrong. There won’t be.”
Instead, Satoru pulled him by the hem of his shirt and kissed him.
Suguru stilled, air disappearing from his lungs.
The kiss was neither deep nor sophisticated. It was more of an angry pressing of lips, really, rough and not very well coordinated.
But there was no barrier of Infinity between them, so Suguru could feel the warmth of Satoru's breath and the softness of his lips. He could even taste and smell light sweetness from the chapstick that Satoru carried everywhere.
When Satoru leaned back and Suguru was able to draw a breath in, he stuttered a croak.
"W-what?"
Satoru put both palms on Suguru's cheeks, squeezed them meanly, and glared at him.
"Shut up!" he barked, still furious.
Suguru obediently shut up.
There were soft lips on his again, and now Suguru even had the presence of mind to kiss back. He felt faint and like he was drunk, maybe, his thoughts swimming half-formed and fleeting through his head without a purpose. At some point, he grabbed at Satoru's sleeve and almost tore it away trying to keep him near.
Slowly, steadily the anger in Satoru's kisses got milder, and then disappeared altogether, replaced by desperate need. Suguru caught Satoru's wandering hand in his and held it to his heart, the other on Satoru's neck.
Satoru whined into his lips and clawed at his shirt, before hiding his face in Suguru's shoulder. They breathed, trying to get some of their bearings back.
The longer they sat like this, the redder Satoru’s ears got, until his whole face was hot against Suguru’s chest.
Suguru laughed quietly.
"Not so bold now, Satoru?" he teased.
Satoru mumbled something that sounded like "shut up" but didn't resurface from his hiding place. Sighing, Suguru hugged him with both arms.
"What do I have to do with you?" he whispered and left a tender, lasting kiss on Satoru's temple. "Do you know what you've done just now, Satoru?"
Satoru curved his spine inward as if to seem smaller and to hide better. With his height, it didn't work very well, but it was devastatingly cute.
Suguru breathed through the emotions exploding in his chest. It was hard to stop himself from smothering Satoru with kisses and consuming him like a curse to always have him close. The idea was very tempting.
"Em, we could pretend nothing happened?" Satoru squeaked out, his whole face burning in embarrassment.
Suguru stroked Satoru's hair, and it wasn't a soothing friendly touch like it had been before. No—it was possessive, Suguru holding Satoru's head in his hole palm and not allowing to move away.
"No, Satoru. We couldn't." Suguru pulled at Satoru’s hair just a little bit to look him in the eyes. Satoru went willingly, although with no enthusiasm. His cheeks and nose were flushed, his eyes avoiding Suguru. "Hey. Look at me, okay?"
Satoru reluctantly turned his eyes to him. Flushed like this, humanly imperfect, Satoru was irresistible.
Suguru slowly leaned down and kissed Satoru's pink lips, then he whispered into them, not looking away from Satoru's wide eyes.
"You were right when you said I'm an idiot." Satoru blinked, confused. Suguru gave him a tender smile and brushed his soft cheek with a thumb. "I know I've made mistakes. I know I will make mistakes—I know that being close to you is a risk, now more than ever." When Satoru opened his mouth to argue again, Suguru touched it with a finger, urging him to keep silent. "It is a risk. But I don't care. Not anymore."
He lowered the finger to Satoru's chin, allowing him to talk if he wished. Satoru didn’t, just breathed heavily.
"I will become stronger. As strong as I possibly can," Suguru promised. "And I will protect you, no matter what. Fuck the higher-ups and the brain bastard—I'll kill everyone in my way if that's what it takes, but I won't allow you to be sealed. Do you understand, Satoru?"
Slowly, Satoru nodded.
"Don't leave me," he whispered, lifting his hands back to Suguru's face. "I can't lose you. Not you, Suguru."
Suguru turned his face to kiss Satoru's wrist.
"You won't."
"Promise?"
Suguru breathed out, then nodded.
"I promise."
Not dying shouldn't be hard so long as he doesn't become a curse user. And if he doesn't die, then his body will remain his.
So, he'd just have to be patient and not kill the elite of the jujutsu society yet. If Satoru managed to resist after what must've been a complete shitshow, then Suguru could do it, too.
They needed to make changes to their missions though, accounting for what they knew now. Fewer solo missions for sure—they weren't worth it, for neither of them. They needed to continue their training, too, and do some covert research on the stitched asshole and its special grade allies. Make plans and precautions before killing all of them—
"Hey," Satoru called, caressing his cheek, "you're overthinking it again."
Suguru forcefully stopped his racing thoughts and focused on the man in front of him.
"Sorry. I’ll try not to." He pecked Satoru on the lips in apology and stood up, pulling him along. "Do you think we should go back?"
Satoru hummed, playing with the hair that had fallen from Suguru's bun. Suguru hugged him by the shoulders, sighing in relief at being able to do so.
He’d never take what they had for granted again. He’d hold onto it with his bloody hands if he had to.
"We agreed to talk about what's been going on, remember?"
Suguru tilted his head.
"Haven't we already done so?"
"We talked about some things, yeah, but not everything. And I don't know when we'll have an opportunity again. Here, at least, I know no one is eavesdropping on us."
"Fair," Suguru agreed. "What do you want to talk about?"
Satoru glanced up at him before returning to his task of making Suguru's hair even more of a mess.
"I haven't slept in a week. Not counting today, I mean." Suguru's eyes widened in worry immediately, but before he could say something, Satoru continued. "I don't feel the effects because of the reversed cursed technique. Or I think I don't feel the effects. Maybe I do but my perception is too skewed."
"Satoru..."
"There must be some drawbacks in curing everything wrong in my body with a technique. Otherwise, I would've realized that you were slowly walking away from me." Satoru turned his eyes up to him again, and Suguru couldn't look away, pinned by them like a curse by Red. "I'm sorry that I let you go, Suguru."
Suguru chewed on his lip. He sighed.
"You don't need to be sorry. I know how much pressure they've put on you. I had half as much and was stressed out of my mind," Suguru admitted, forcing himself to be honest. "And I know we couldn't just decline all the missions—they'll just get reassigned to those not as strong as us." And if a sorcerer has to deal with a curse above their grade level, they'll die.
Just the thought of seeing Haibara or Nanami on Shoko's steel table made him sick.
"We should make them stronger, too."
Suguru looked at Satoru with a question. Satoru blushed a bit and lowered his gaze.
"I've been thinking about this for a while," he said after a moment. "It's not right that curses get stronger while sorcerers don't. We're the strongest, so we should make sure that those who come after us are just as strong or even stronger."
"Not everyone has a strong cursed technique," Suguru countered. Satoru tapped admonishingly on his cheek.
"Wrong! That's some higher-ups' bullshit, Suguru. I think every technique has a potential to be as strong as mine or yours, but most sorcerers are discouraged from even trying." Satoru smiled. "So we should teach them ourselves!"
Suguru was surprised, to say the least.
"You want to go into teaching, Satoru?"
Satoru huffed and turned away, now leaning against Suguru's chest with his back. Suguru obediently hugged him from behind.
"What? You think I won't succeed? Well, screw you, Suguru, because I'll be an amazing teacher! Much better than Yaga, for sure! My students will be the best just like me!"
Suguru laughed, charmed beyond reason.
"I'm sure they will," he reassured. "Would you like a colleague to teach them with? To take care of them whenever you're sent off on missions?"
Satoru froze. Suguru worried he'd misunderstood it and said something wrong, but then Satoru turned around in his arms and looked at him with something vulnerable in his eyes.
"Would you want to? To teach with me?"
Suguru smiled gently and pecked Satoru's forehead.
"Yes, I would," he said. "I think it's a good idea. And with the higher-ups as they're, you'll need all the help you can get."
When Satoru kissed him, Suguru readily accepted it.
"You're the best! We could start with our kohais while we're still students, get some experience and all that! And we could take them on our missions and go with them on theirs—that'd give us more learning opportunities! Yaga doesn't need to know—I'm sure we could keep it a secret! For a time, at least. And then—"
"I love you."
Satoru stopped.
"What?" his voice was so quiet, disbelieving. Suguru stroked Satoru's cheek with his knuckles.
"I love you," he repeated, not scared or embarrassed for once. If anything, he felt relieved with the words finally out there and not weighing on his chest anymore. "I love you more than anything, Gojo Satoru."
With no small amount of pleasure, Suguru watched Satoru’s face quickly turn tomato red. When Satoru hid in his shoulder again, Suguru laughed.
"You! Are! The worst!" Satoru hit him on the arm. Suguru winced—that wasn't gentle at all. "I love you too, you idiot!"
Suguru's brain shortcut for a moment.
"You do?"
"Yes!"
"Oh."
Satoru hit him again.
"What do you mean 'oh'?! What kind of love confession is that? Where's my ki—"
Suguru promptly gave him the kiss.
They stayed at the platform for a little while longer.
.
When they returned to the school around thirty-six hours after they had left for the mission, Yaga was about to send them help (completely unnecessary, of course). Satoru told him that, gave a brief and totally fabricated report of the mission (with two special grades, one of which was a sentient ghost train), bargained two days of rest for both of them and left for his room. Once the door was slammed shut, Suguru gave a few more details about the mission, adding credibility to their lie. Then he excused himself and left for the dorms as well.
Suguru had a shower, changed into new clothes, and made a note to visit Shoko later to assure her that they were fine. For now, however, he took snacks and a large bottle of water from the kitchen and went to Satoru's room. He knocked briefly and entered without waiting for a reply.
Satoru, apparently, had had his shower as well, his hair still wet. He wasn't asleep though—not surprising after a week of not sleeping at all. His cycadean rhythms were probably all over the place and would take some time to fix.
Having caught sight of sweets in Suguru's hands, Satoru took a pack immediately and devoured it in seconds. Suguru smiled fondly and, when Satoru went for another one, gave him the water bottle instead. Satoru whined in protest but quikly admitted defeat and drank a good third of the bottle. After that, Suguru allowed him another pack and sat next to him on the bed. Having finished that one, too, Satoru sighed, content, and laid back on the bed, gazing up at Suguru from under white eyelashes.
"Suguru."
"Mm?"
Satoru grinned slyly.
"Come here." he patted the bed. "Now we will cuddle and kiss."
Suguru raised an eyebrow, chuckling fondly.
"We will?"
"Yep. And then we'll sleep till tomorrow."
"And what will we do tomorrow after we sleep?"
Satoru hummed thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.
"We'll watch a movie?" When Satoru looked up at him with a question, Suguru made a 'so-so' gesture. "Play a video game?" Suguru shrugged. "I know, you'll cook us nabe and then we'll play Mario Cart!"
Suguru laughed but nodded.
"Fine. But you'll chop the vegetables." He grinned wider. "And I'll beat you in Mario Cart so hard you'll pout for the rest of the day."
Satoru pouted.
"So mean!"
Then he pulled Suguru by an arm and sent him sprawling next to him on the bed. When Suguru went down, Satoru grabbed the rest of the snacks from him and began consuming them at a nauseating speed. Suguru somehow managed to make him drink water in between, but this wasn't easy.
Done with food, Satoru sighed in satisfaction and settled on top of Suguru. Hugging him with one arm, Suguru leaned over for wet tissues and cleaned crumbs and sugar from their hands and Satoru’s face. Satoru allowed it but didn't help much, just lying there like a lazy octopus.
"Suguru."
"Yes?" Suguru threw away the tissues and settled with Satoru more comfortably. His eyelids were getting heavy now, so he pulled the comforter over them.
"Do you really love me?"
Suguru huffed, smiling, and pressed on Satoru's nose with a finger. Satoru made a disgruntled noise.
"Yes. I do." Suguru hugged him more securely. "Why? Do you doubt it?"
Satoru furrowed his brows as if in deep thought.
"I just don't get it."
"You don't get what?"
Satoru shrugged, hiding his face on Suguru's chest.
"I'm not easy to love," he said. "You hated me in the beginning, remember? Said I'm brash, arrogant, and annoying. I know things have changed since then a lot, but… Why are you not in love with Shoko instead? She’s nice when she’s not grinding your feeling of self-worth into dust." Satoru was silent for a moment before adding, "Or Haibara. He’s kind and funny and… Wait, you're not in love with Haibara, right?"
Suguru hummed as if in thought. Satoru kicked him.
"Fine, fine! I'm not in love with Yu," Suguru laughed. "And yes, you're annoying sometimes, because you like to annoy people, Satoru. But I stopped being annoyed by you, like, two months in. I like it about you now. It's rather pathetic, actually, how much I enjoy watching you pester Utahime."
"You… like it?"
"Yes. You get all huffy and smile so brightly I want to kiss you senseless."
Suguru combed his fingers through Satoru’s short wet hair. The smell of peaches from the shampoo got stronger.
"You're easy to love, Satoru," he continued, his voice soft. "It's one thing I could never regret—loving you."
Satoru finally looked up at him, eyes full of wonder, then he raised his hands to Suguru’s face.
"It's you who are easy to love, Geto Suguru." Satoru quickly put a hand over his mouth, not allowing Suguru to argue. "Yes, you are! You do have things you struggle with, and it can be hard to get words out of you to help you, but loving you? That's the easiest thing in the world."
Suguru swallowed. When he was allowed to speak again, his voice was hoarse.
"I think I was promised some kisses," he said.
Satoru smacked him lightly on the shoulder.
"Stop making me blush!"
"Why would I? You look gorgeous with your face all red."
As if backing his words, Satoru's skin got beautifully pink.
"Geto Suguru, if you don't stop—"
Not waiting till the end of the threat, Suguru interrupted him with a kiss. Satoru moaned quietly and became a putty in his arms, body pliant and lips soft. Suguru kissed him and couldn't get enough.
That evening, he got all his promised kisses and cuddles. He even managed to relax Satoru enough to make him fall asleep. Lying in bed with Satoru close, Suguru didn't even notice when his own eyes slipped shut, too. That night, even with everything that had happened, he didn't have any nightmares.