Chapter Text
He chuckles as Amanai drags them through the aquarium entrance, Kuroi hot on their heels chiding her to slow down. He can’t blame the Star Plasma Vessel for being so excited; it’s her first time really out exploring and experiencing the world, albeit not in the best of circumstances, but she’s not letting the bounty on her head and the threat of assassins stop her.
And honestly, he can’t help but also feel giddy at the sight of something new: the beach, the gardens, canoeing, now the aquarium. Things normal people have done instead of experiencing it vicariously through books and conversations. He’s trying to take in as much as possible for the extra day they’re here: the smell of the ocean, the taste of char-grilled meat, the feel of sand between his toes, the sound of waves crashing into the shore, everything.
It feels like another universe with the way the tank lights bathe everything in a warm blue light, everything mimicking the deep sea’s bioluminescent glow because of it, fish shadows partially blocking some of the light and creating dancing patterns along the floor.
They hang back as Amanai wanders aimlessly, pausing in front of exhibits that capture her attention. He never realized how similar her eyes are to the color of the ocean; when they get close enough, he can see that they barely change, completely reflecting the joy and wonder she must be feeling.
It makes some of the worry about the mission slip away. He’s still on high alert of course, even with fewer curses here. The people who kidnapped Kuroi were most likely associated with whatever group is out for Amanai’s bounty. They could still be lurking around Okinawa, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
But he can’t help the fondness that seeps into him as he watches the pure child-like joy Amanai can barely contain as she truly experiences the world for the first time. He knows it rubs off on his partner too, even though he’s also constantly checking their surroundings.
Amanai gasps at something ahead of them, running back to grab Kuroi by the hand and drag her over to the open stingray pool. He chuckles, knocking into his partner and gesturing to where the caretaker and daughter have run off to. The other also snorts, shaking his head.
He keeps an eye on them as Amanai sticks her hand in, giggling as one of the stingrays swims past her. She pulls Kuroi’s hesitant hand in, cackling at her reaction to the no doubt slimy texture of the sea creature. A school of fish swims past the glass he’s next to, shadows darting over the other’s face. He leans closer to his partner, lacing their hands together and pulling him towards the stingray pool.
Even if they’re on such a high-stakes mission, it really doesn’t feel like it. If anything, it just feels like they’ve somewhat begrudgingly taken their younger sister on a last-minute summer vacation. Sure, he’s constantly scanning everything to make sure nothing is dangerous, but it’s been calm. Too calm. But he doesn’t let that stop him from enjoying himself. Who knows when he’ll get a chance to come back here?
He kneels on the opposite side of the pool, still in clear view of Amanai and all her surroundings. His partner kneels next to him, hesitating with his hand above the water as a larger stingray floats closer. He tamps down his own apprehension, grabbing his hand again and with no warning plunging their joined hands into the water.
The other shrieks even if the water is tepid, and he can’t help but laugh. He gets water flicked at him for his efforts. If he wasn’t risking ruining Amanai’s fun by getting kicked out, he’d splash his partner back and it’d probably devolve into them in the knee-deep water soaking each other to the bone.
The stingray finally swims past them, and while it is slimy, it’s also almost impossibly smooth. Unexpected, but not unpleasant. He watches as the other drags his fingers in spirals over its back, obviously enjoying the feeling if the grin on his face is anything to go by. He probably has a matching one, something in him inexplicably happy watching his partner experience the simple joys in the world.
Amanai gags at him when he looks back over at her and Kuroi, so he sends a retaliatory splash of water at her. She huffs but points over her shoulder where the wall-length tank sits down a flight of stairs. He gives her a nod, her face splitting into a grin as she loops her arm in Kuroi’s and drags her off again.
He knows he should follow them, but when he glances back at his partner, somehow he’s figured out a way to make friends with most of the stingrays in the pool, all of them piling on top of each other for pets. The other has both hands elbow-deep in the water, and his heart melts at the peaceful smile on his face. So he gives him more time, one eye watching Amanai admire the whale sharks swimming by and the other on his partner making the stingrays chase his fingers.
But eventually Amanai wanders a little too far for his liking. He bumps into his partner, pointing over to where Amanai is slowly wandering further away. The other sighs, giving each stingray one last pat before he stands. As he also stands and ignores the way the other drags his wet hands over his shirt, his partner winds their fingers back together, using his free hand to cup his face and tuck loose hair behind his ear. He leans into the touch, the warmth, sighing contently. The other tilts his head up, grinning softly at him despite how tired he looks.
But then the world starts to shift, colors swirling violently. It feels like everything and nothing, moments in time flashing before his eyes as he watches his first day at Jujutsu Tech, all the missions he went on as a student, teaching newer generations of sorcerers, the victories, the losses, the pain, unbearable pain as his heart shattered when his one and only left him with crazed ideals and died in his arms. The happy, sad, distraught, grief, joy, heartbreak, everything that started ten years ago.
He blinks rapidly, coming back to himself after the rush of memories, grounding himself as he runs through the things he last remembers. It’s 2017, he just defeated an unregistered special-grade curse, slaughtered countless transfigured humans to protect the non-sorcerers trapped within multiple veils.
He tries to stand, and when he realizes he can’t move does he remember the words chanted, the overwhelming aura of the Prison Realm as it opened. His arms are pinned behind his back by the strange, cold, disturbing flesh-lie texture of its internals. When he tries to call forth his technique to free himself, instead of the steady well of energy he’s so used to drawing from, he glances off the surface of it. The only thing that’s still disorienting is the hand from his memories holding his face still, but with none of the gentleness and reverie he remembers.
“Struggling is pointless,” the person in front of him croons, someone who can’t possibly be in front of him. Something glints wickedly in their eyes, too much knowledge that they shouldn't have for being alive for only twenty-eight years. They're cold and unfamiliar and not like how he remembers from before that fateful day ten years ago.
“Who are you?” he asks, voice wavering as he darts his eyes around desperately for a way out of this. But instead of the train station covered in blood from the now-dead transfigured humans, the frozen unidentified cursed spirits ready to be sliced in half, and shell-shocked non-sorcerers, it's just overwhelming darkness. It presses in on him, too hyper-aware of it and the residuals that should no longer exist.
The person pouts, an elegant hand pressed to their chest as the bracelets around their wrists jingle. “You don’t remember me at all? I’m hurt.”
“You aren’t who you claim to be,” he states with full confidence, trying to tug his face away from the person’s cold grip.
“Uh-uh, don’t do that,” they tut, digging manicured nails into his cheeks and drawing blood. "You know you’ll just fry your brain, but at this point, that might be a better alternative to what you'll experience in the Prison Realm. And how are you so sure I’m not your beloved worst curse user?”
"Because he wouldn’t go around slaughtering innocent people on a power trip. It was one of the things he was against. And I killed him with my own hands.” More memories flash in front of his eyes, from a year ago when jujutsu society was nearly turned on its head. He never expected to find him severely wounded and dying in that alley, and who was he but a puppet to the higher ups to make sure their society didn’t collapse?
“Are you sure?" They cackle, leaning uncomfortably closer with a twisted grin splitting their face. “I’m standing right here in front of you. Besides, something could’ve happened to me that made me change my mind. After all, wasn’t it you who said something along the lines of non-sorcerers being the scum of the Earth that needed to be purged for the sake of jujutsu society?”
“Who the hell are you?!” he shouts, glaring at the imposter wearing his one and only’s face. “He knew that wasn’t even half of it. You aren’t him. I can feel it in my soul, my everything. You aren’t him, so who the hell are you?!”
It's horrifying, bile rising in his throat quicker than any curse he's ever swallowed as whatever is piloting The Strongest's body uses their free hand to push white bangs away from their forehead. His stomach plummets further at the line of stitches across their forehead, thread slowly unraveling the gorey seam. A sadistic grin cracks their face, piercing blue eyes glowing over rectangular frames. They peel back the top of their skull, revealing the curse nestled contently inside.
Suguru can only stare in shock, heart shattering for the third time in his life at the sight of Gojo Satoru reduced to nothing but a puppet, a weapon, a tool, the very thing he despised.
How did it come to this?