Chapter Text
It was near blinding, the pain, but he keeps himself moving, one foot in front of the other, putting almost all of his weight on his left side as he uses the wall to support him. His plans went pear-shaped, he's tracking blood everywhere, his arm is gone and he's not even sure if the rest of his family is okay or not. He laughs hysterically, unable to believe he got outdone by a damn child.
His vision blurs momentarily and he grits his teeth against the jarring pain, sliding down against the wall when he sees a figure in front of him, death beckoning.
Suguru thinks this might be the end for him.
"I found him!"
He blinks when another figure joins the first one and he recognizes them to be his girls, looking harried and distressed but otherwise unharmed. He breathes out a sigh of relief and reaches for them with his one arm as they approach.
"Getou-sama!"
He tries to smile to reassure them but he can hardly open his right eye anymore and thinks it's okay to let go since his family's found him. He's always known he would die for them but he'd always assumed he would die alone despite it all.
"We have to hurry, we don't have much time. Get his arms and I'll get his legs."
"Nanako!"
There's a long horrible pause and he's sorry to have added to their distress as Nanako's voice wobbles with her next order.
"T-try anyway! W-we need to save him! He needs us!"
"O-okay!"
He tries to tell them that it's okay, even as his body is being jostled around like a potato bag. It hurts badly but he doesn't mind it, doesn't mind leaving this world now. If he were to die here then he would still be satisfied to die in the arms of his daughters.
"Please don't leave us, Getou-sama! We still need you."
He begs to differ but who is he to deny them.
"Let's go home," he murmurs softly as his curse bears them back home.
---
---
---
Suguru is self-aware enough to know his current strategy is lacking, that what he's doing isn't sustainable. He knows that everything he's done thus far has been, at best, putting bandaids over some holes and then hoping it'll hold out long enough to figure out a better plan. Everything he's done for the past 11 years has been nothing but a short-term solution to a long-term problem; a quick and dirty way to address the issue but not enough to go right to the root of it and pull it out.
In hindsight, he thinks he should've spent more time talking to Tsukumo Yuki but it's far too late for that.
If he were a less prideful man, he would recognize that it would be better to stop here and start anew again with a different strategy, a different plan, a better one, but old habits die hard and he's already invested 11 years into this lifestyle. Not just his own but also everybody else whom he considers his family. To stop now would be to waste all the cumulative effort put into his ideals thus far.
Pride is the only thing holding him back and he's self-aware enough to know it's his downfall.
---
On the outside, nothing much has changed. He attends to his duties to exorcize curses from monkeys and he makes sure to collect his dues from monkeys. He always has one member of his family to conduct the meetings with, more for the company than for anything else. He can't stand to be in the same room as the pitiful non-shamans for too long; having someone else there with him makes it far more tolerable.
On the inside, he feels withered and weathered, skin pulled too tight over his body and unbalanced in more ways than just a missing arm. The Night Parade was more than a year ago but he still feels the aftermath of it deep in his bones and in his soul even though he's able to hide it well most of the time that he's unbothered by how things turned out.
Suguru's already eaten two curses today and he's about to accept a large donation from a sweaty middle-aged monkey who's been cursed by his scorned ex-wife. He intends to milk him for what he's worth before killing him like he's done to countless others. Toshihisa leads the way but before they manage to get to the meeting room, Manami intercepts them with news.
"Our biggest problem is gone," Manami tells him, holding her arms at the elbows under her breasts that accentuate them more. He smirks fondly at the memory of their younger years together but he's too jaded to give it more than a passing thought.
"I think we have different ideas of what constitutes a big problem," he says airily as he continues to check their expenditure reports on his phone one-handed. Running a temple on "donations" and making it seem legitimate isn't hard work but it's a necessary nuisance to bear. "Toshihisa, go to the meeting room and tell them I'll be there shortly, please."
"Got it," the dark-haired man says before turning around the corner to complete the journey alone.
"Alright, tell me," Suguru says as he tucks his phone away and gives her his undivided attention, sees the way she eyes him carefully before saying the name he doesn't want to hear.
"Gojo Satoru."
That gives him pause. "What?"
"Gojo Satoru, our biggest problem, is gone," she speaks slowly as if to further emphasize the importance of her news.
His mind blanks for a moment but he forces himself to refocus. "What do you mean he's gone?" He asks, his tone dangerously low as he tries to quell the sudden racing beat of his heart. It's been over a year since he last saw that man and back then Suguru had been whole and able-bodied.
Even though Satoru wasn't involved with him losing his arm, his shoulder aches in memory of it. It was his student that took it from him, after all.
"Nobody's seen him. Nobody knows where he is. He left on a mission a week ago and he never came back from it. I made sure to confirm it before telling you."
He can tell she's nervous about letting him know but he merely waves it off as casually as he can, more for himself than for her. "He's probably gone off gallivanting somewhere. It's unlikely he's gone for good," he says with certainty.
And yet, two weeks later, one month later, nearly six months after, Gojo Satoru never comes back and the Jujutsu world starts to panic.
---
Suguru watches as Satoru's students search high and low for him, desperate in their tenacity, looking like a bunch of rats scurrying around trying to find a single crumb that might lead them to where their sensei might be. It's pitiful to look at but he can't deny how it amuses him to no end watching them flip over anything and everything as if maybe Satoru might be hiding somewhere nearby just playing a prank on them, their desperation like a hurricane leaving no stone unturned.
He observes them all from a distance through the eyes of his curses, small enough to go unseen and unbothered - the students have far bigger things to worry about than some fly-head curse that barely has enough of a presence to garner their attention.
"Principal Yaga is calling; there's trouble in Nagano he wants us to deal with," the charred monkey says as she holds her phone to her ear and frowns, vibrating with barely-concealed fury.
"Tell him to fucking deal with it himself," the dark-haired boy, the one that looks like that asshole of an assassin, snarls. He almost looks like he's frothing at the mouth with how pathetic it looks. Suguru almost wants to laugh.
"Sha-ke," says the boy with the cursed speech and missing arm, a near match for the one Suguru doesn't have.
"I'll go, you guys can keep looking for clues," the boy with the pink hair offers, determined and willing.
The short-haired monkey makes a noise of disgust, "It's a Special Grade curse; all of us need to go."
"They're sending first and second years to deal with Special Grades these days?" The assassin's boy scoffs, "They're not being subtle now that Gojo-sensei's gone. They're trying to kill us off."
"No. Just me," the cursed boy says as he balls his hands into fists, fierce determination in his stance.
"Okaka."
"What he said. We're not letting you go take care of it on your own, Yuuji. If you die then we all die. I'm done with whatever shit the higher-ups are throwing at us."
The monkey rolls her eyes as she talks into the phone, "We'll take care of it, Principal Yaga, or die trying. Have fun planning four funerals," she smirks derisively and finally deigns to hang up the phone.
It's then he's heard enough and makes his own way to Nagano to take care of the curse himself. Fuck Yaga for still succumbing to the wishes of old, vile men who should've been vetoed out of power a long time ago. He doesn't even know how they're still calling the shots when all they do is sit on their asses all day.
He's not doing this as a favor to those idiots nor to Satoru. After all, having a Special Grade curse to add into his repertoire will be a boon in and of itself, especially since he’s still trying to recover his lost inventory from the Night Parade.
It's hard to fight with only one arm but he has an arsenal of curses at the ready and it doesn't take him long before he's adding another one into his growing collection. It hurts to swallow it down but it's a pain he's grown accustomed to, a nuisance that must be dealt with. You cannot hope to gain anything without making sacrifices along the way, and Suguru is intimately familiar with making sacrifices.
---
Curse users and curses alike are having a field day now that Gojo Satoru has been deemed "Missing in Action" and Suguru can't help the derisive way he laughs at how the clans are scrambling to retain any piece of power and position they have left in their society from the power vacuum left behind by Satoru's sudden disappearance. The Gojo's are going out of their way to find their Golden Child and bring him back while the Zen'in's do everything they can to undermine them. The Kamo's are happy to leave those two squabbling amongst themselves while they make their own quiet plans to ascertain their place among the Top 3.
It's pathetic and it tickles him to no end to see how one person is enough to tip the balance. Although he supposes that's wrong; he tipped the balance himself 11 years ago when he was labeled the strongest and the worst curse user to ever exist in Jujutsu society, and now Satoru is following after him with his impromptu vacation.
Suguru thought he would have an easier time finding that man but it turns out that despite careful planning, not everything will fall into place or come to fruition. He would know, especially after coming so close to death when he tried to steal the Queen of Curses from a boy who doesn't know the true value of her.
He wonders where that Okkotsu Yuuta is these days but doesn't linger on the thought for too long when he needs to be focusing on his work.
Manami introduces him to a mother, daughter and son who'd been cursed by their estranged husband and father prior to his death after a drink-driving incident that took almost all of the lives involved in the crash. Even now, the curses continue to spit belligerent words as he tries to choke the family he left behind.
It's pathetic but he smiles sympathetically as the mother appeals to him to help her children, leaving herself out of the equation, and a part of him wants to do it, wants to leave the curse to keep choking her until she dies in her sleep but the three of them combined together would make a more powerful curse than two on its own.
He continues smiling as he holds a hand over each of their heads, not quite touching but enough for him to feel their warmth and sweat as he absorbs the curses into one orb and sees the way the children slump over in relief and the mother cries tears of joy. It's sickening and he doesn't mean a damn word of it when he wishes them well.
The mother makes a pitiful donation that he lets Manami take care of for him because having his hand even hovering near them is enough to make disgust roll over him in waves. He hates the monkeys but he can't deny their usefulness in situations like these.
They bow and thank him profusely as they leave and his smile drops off as soon as they turn away and leave his temple.
"Pathetic," he mutters as he holds his hand out and waits for Manami to give him a spritz or two of the anti-bacterial spray.
She laughs at him and calls him dramatic but he never denies that he isn't.
---
He catches Miguel and Larue having a quiet discussion together on the couch of the communal hangout spot and it doesn't take much for him to figure out what the main topic might involve. Still, Suguru makes himself walk towards them and sees them catch his eye and pull away as if they weren't just caught gossiping. It makes him want to laugh.
"Toshihisa told me you're back in the country," he says casually to Miguel whom he hasn't seen since he was forcibly recruited from his family after the Night Parade. "Any particular reason why you cut your trip short?"
"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say," Miguel tells him apologetically, even if what he doesn't say is just as loud and just as clear as what he does say.
Suguru hums, not particularly concerned as he turns to Larue and asks him, "Mimiko and Nanako want donburi for lunch, what do you both want? I'll put an order through once I find Manami and get hers."
Larue shrugs, "Any vegetarian option is fine for me. And a side of gyoza."
"Same for me. And I'll share the gyoza."
"Get your own."
"Stingy," he smirks and Suguru can't help the fondness he feels over their playful banter, waving them off as he leaves the room to find Manami to do a quick check-in on one of their monkeys that have been getting overconfident and making unnecessary demands from him. He's in a foul mood and he doubts that it didn't go unnoticed by both Miguel and Larue.
At least he knows now that Okkotsu Yuuta has returned to Japan and is most likely part of the search for Gojo Satoru. He knows he's running out of time and it won't be long before his ability to roam unimpeded is taken from him. He needs to hurry and find Satoru before everybody else does.
---
He starts off by going to Naha, the last known location of Gojo Satoru that he managed to glean after making some subtle inquiries. From there, he follows the residuals of which, after nearly nine months later, still glows as bright as if he'd disappeared just yesterday.
Suguru scoffs, and can't help the smirk as he thinks fondly of his former best friend. Trust Satoru to still be an overachiever even after disappearing from the world.
The trail vanishes off the coast of Okinawa and it takes him several minutes of looking to realize it didn't simply vanish, just faded away into something barely detectable. Anybody who doesn't know Satoru's cursed energy intimately would simply think he was gone but Suguru has had years to learn the ins and outs of his cursed energy back when they were studying together and he's confident Satoru knows his just as well if not more so.
He summons a flying curse and follows the trace residuals, finds himself traveling back up the coastline of Japan, far enough away that the islands that make up the country are nothing more than a thin sliver in the distance. He keeps following like a dog with a bone and almost loses it once or twice, having to backtrack to follow that thread again.
It's cold and it makes his shoulder ache deep into his bones, knows he'll suffer for it later when he gets back to the mainland. For now he grits his teeth and bears it, his stupid empty sleeve having come loose from the kasaya and is flapping with the wind for the third time already that he simply leaves it as is. The trail starts to veer far off the coast of Japan, further out into the open water and churning seas until he finds himself over a hundred miles off from Tokyo city, the buildings a mere speck in the distance.
He doesn't find a body. Or anything that might resemble something of Satoru's.
Suguru wonders if he's dead afterall and this is just the gravesite of where his body was dumped, cursed energy leaking out like little breadcrumbs now that he’s closer. There's nobody alive that can kill Satoru, that much he knows, and yet, he finds himself faltering at the possibility that it might be true after all.
He lowers the curse down until they're just floating above the water and he stares down at the dark depths. He can't see very far and he can't sense anything else around them other than Satoru's cursed energy, however muted it may be.
He sends another curse down to check for him, a small but agile one that he only ever uses for reconnaissance. At the very least, he can afford himself the closure of getting his body back in whatever state he might find him in. He will guide Satoru to the afterlife, one last favor to an old friend, and nobody else has to know.
---
He finds him, inexplicably, in a tiny box. The only reason Suguru knows Satoru is even in there for sure is the sheer amount of cursed energy flowing from it as soon as it gets dropped into his hand, the way the eyes suddenly open up to stare unerringly into his soul, eyes that are very reminiscent of Satoru, the bright blue glow of it all.
He's glad he didn't bother to bring anybody with him to this location, not that he's ever done so in the last handful of months that he's been properly looking for him. Lots of people of the Jujutsu society think he's taking advantage of Gojo Satoru's absence just as much as everybody else is and he won't deny it. Just not in the way they think.
Suguru slides the object into the folds of his clothes and he watches the eyes blink simultaneously and then fall shut almost in slumber, the cursed energy that was flowing out of it previously now back to its muted state. He doesn't know what it means, what it's doing, but he puts that thought aside as he makes his way back home with Satoru in tow, layering his own cursed energy on top of the box to hide what's peeking out.
He doesn't want anybody to know.
---
It's late by the time he gets back to the temple, way past dinner time, but Nanako still catches him as he's heading towards the back rooms where he keeps his journals, notes, and personal readings. He needs to make a seal to hide the fact that he's carrying a cursed object that bears an uncanny resemblance to Gojo Satoru's cursed energy as well as conduct some research on what the cursed object might be but he stops when she intercepts him with a cheerful smile on her face.
"I got an A- on my online courses! You said you'd treat me to anything I wanted if I got at least an A."
He hums playfully as he rubs his hand along his jaw, thankful that he'd slipped the box into the folds of his kasaya before entering the temple, his own cursed energy more than enough to smother Satoru's for the time being. "I did say that, although an A- isn't quite an A."
"What?" She makes a face at him as she thinks it over and then pouts childishly at misinterpreting his words. "Awh..."
Suguru chuckles as he brushes past her, "Pick a place and give me an hour. We'll go out after I'm done."
She perks up immediately and he thinks he spoils them far too much but he can't help wanting to anyway. "Okay! I'm gonna find Mimiko!"
He locks the door behind him once he enters, carefully taking the cursed object out to put on top of his desk while he pulls out a fresh piece of paper and ink well to scribe some talismans down, layering his cursed energy into the lines and paying careful attention to the strokes. It had been a difficult year trying to make himself learn how to write and do anything with his left arm but the effort has more than paid itself off now as he puts the seal to the test and feels the exact moment when the box becomes an inert object.
Suguru nearly pats himself on the back as he tucks the cube back into his clothes; he's not leaving this cursed object out of his sight and if the eyes were open, he's sure that it wouldn't want him to leave its sight, either.
He exits the room and sets off to find Mimiko and Nanako, both waiting for him patiently near the front of the temple ready to be treated for a night out in the city.
He hates going out to join the masses but he made a promise to Nanako and he's always a man of his word.
---
Every once in a while, he's taken to sending out fly-head curses to monitor the progress of the school's search for their elusive teacher and it tickles him to no end that they've yet to find a single clue or hint as to Satoru's whereabouts while he's already gone above and beyond, the man sitting in the palm of his hand. They're growing impatient and if Suguru thought they were desperate before, it's reached a fever pitch now; they're going at it with a do-or-die attitude and he thinks they really might kill themselves from it.
There's a level of despair that's taking hold of each of them now, the way they mourn over the loss of not only their teacher but also their friends and comrades after the events that transpired in Shibuya.
Suguru hadn't been involved at the time, choosing to stay out of it, but he regrets it a little bit now especially when he knows he has more gaps than information of things that happened during that night. The small amount of knowledge he's gathered isn't enough to paint a whole picture but it's enough to tell him it was simply a catalyst of what's to come.
He knows a lot of monkeys died that night, not that he particularly cares for them, but he also knows a couple of sorcerers were killed and a good majority of them nearly perished. Satoru continued to bear the burdens of the Jujutsu world following that evening but then shortly afterwards, just as suddenly vanished without a word.
Nobody knows what happened and Suguru hates that he's one of them. He might have Satoru now but he doesn't know the events that led him into that cube nor yet if it's possible to get him out of said cube.
He ponders over it for several nights and wonders if it's better to leave the man trapped in there or to release him. In the end, his sentimentality wins over his better sense and he begins his long, arduous slog of researching.
---
Miguel and Larue like to spar together and it's been a long time since they've been in the same room for it to happen. They always give a good show, hamming it up for the enjoyment of Mimiko and Nanako heckling them from the sidelines, both of the girls picking one person each to cheer for as both men trade blows with one another.
Manami occasionally joins them to watch but is oftentimes too busy tending to accounts and emails of would-be investors to spend too long watching. Toshihisa has his own duties to tend to in conjunction with Manami so he's almost always not around to watch, either.
Suguru lets himself longer for a while longer, a short break before he returns to his stuffy room, the cube a heavy weight in the folds of his kasaya. He takes in the sounds of his family's enjoyment, lets himself soak in the feeling of contentment, of happiness, of belonging, before he leaves to make his rounds through the temple, a quick check to see if there are any monkeys that might beg for his attention.
He passes a room where Toshihisa is with an old woman, a dark curse bound to her that catches his attention for how it lovingly looms over her frail body. The dark-haired man catches his attention and Suguru puts on a smile as he enters the room and introduces himself before listening to the old widowed monkey and her late monkey husband who can't find peace in death knowing that she's alone.
He tells her to come back to pray daily, willing to set time aside to nurture the curse into something more powerful than it is now. After all, he knows intimately how powerful lovesick curses can be.
---
He makes a breakthrough after several weeks and feels stupid that he hadn't thought to say the word "open" to it, not that it would've been enough in the first place. He think it's just as well he hadn't as he stands in the middle of a desolated little village that changed his life forever 11 years ago and peels off the edge of the seal around the prison realm only to immediately sense the way it feels fit to burst, cursed energy roiling so thickly around the cube as soon as the rest of the paper falls away. All of its eyes are wide open and all of them are affixed to him like they're aware of what he's trying to do.
He thinks it's hilarious that there's something out there that can subdue God and all his glory, leave him vulnerable and weak. Mortal. He wonders how Satoru would be coming out, whether he'd make a run for it, come out guns blazing or pretend nothing happened and nothing's changed. The first is unlikely but the second and third option have equal opportunity of occurring.
He knew it would be a bad move to open it in his temple or anywhere near civilization, to get caught up by the influx of cursed energy that's vibrating and pulsing heavily in the air ready to explode. He's glad now he opted to find a secluded area for this. Nobody's been by this monkey village in years, having turned into something of a ghost town and he finds that it suits his needs well enough.
He's confident in himself enough to survive the blast if it were to come but he still takes a healthy step back anyway as he utters the words, "Gate open."
Instead of a bang that he was expecting and fully prepared for, it comes out more as a whisper and he would be disappointed by it all if not for how his eyes widen at the sight of Satoru looking up at him from the ground, flat on his back and unblinking. The only reason why Suguru knows he's alive is the way those blue eyes track his every movement like it did when he was still within the prison realm.
"Satoru."
The man doesn't speak, merely stares at him.
Satoru’s cursed energy keeps fluctuating between almost nothing and a pitiful grade 3 curse and Suguru doesn’t know how much of that is from the effect of being stuck inside the prison realm for nearly 10 months or if it’s from the sight of his former best friend standing right over him. Suguru breathes loudly through his nose as he crouches down by Satoru’s head and asks him, “Can you get up or no?”
The white-haired man's throat bobs and no answer comes out but his blue eyes remain unerringly on him the entire time. He huffs as he snakes his left arm under Satoru’s shoulders and makes him sit up, his body surprisingly lighter than Suguru would’ve assumed but the man still ends up being dead weight, ragdolling unhelpfully like he has no strength in him. Suguru wonders if being in the prison realm too long sapped him of this, too. Either that or Satoru’s purposefully being an asshole but one look at the man’s pinched look and gritted teeth tell him otherwise; Satoru's never been one to let himself be helpless.
He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to do anything with only one arm but he figures he’ll make it work. He makes the curse who carried him here lie behind him as he sits on it and bodily drags Satoru on top of it, making sure to settle him as best as he can with his one damn arm before controlling the curse to bring him back to his apartment that he rarely uses unless he desperately needs some time away from the temple.
He’s glad he’s chosen to do this just after sunset; no one will notice him flying through the sky with the strongest sorcerer on his lap.
At one point, Satoru dozes off, his cursed energy waning down to almost nothing that Suguru feels a momentary spike of fear at the idea that the world's strongest sorcerer has become a monkey.
---
Satoru is thin. Thinner than he’s ever seen him even in their youth and he wonders what happened inside the prison realm to have made him this way.
Dressed in some borrowed clothes, with the fabric loose and baggy over his slim frame he looks even smaller. If there's something Suguru knows about the other, it's that the word "small" is not synonymous with Satoru.
It takes days for Satoru to be able to finally talk, more to build up the strength to finally move, and more before he gets his slowly returning cursed energy under tight control. Suguru doesn’t know if anybody’s noticed yet but he hopes they won’t come barging through his doors anytime soon.
---
The old widow comes back everyday to pray just like he told her to and he watches as the curse of her late husband grows and grows and grows until her old body curves from the stress of that invisible weight, her back bowing from the strain of it. He pities her suddenly and asks her to join him in a private room as he summons a curse to trail after them.
She's slow, her getas clacking softly with each laborious step she takes to a different part of the temple, smiling at him and trusting as he helps her kneel down on the tatami mat, her hands quietly clapped together in prayer.
It's a quick and painless death and he sees her off to the afterlife to join her husband.
"I'm surprised by you, Suguru," Manami says from behind him at the now still room, not a single drop of blood left behind.
"No more than myself," he tells her as he watches the last wisp of the curse disappear.
It was a strong curse, but a part of him didn't want anything to do with it anymore.
---
He's been taking more time away from the temple than usual, going back to the apartment his family knows about but also know better than to visit him there unless invited. Suguru's glad for it now as he houses the world's strongest sorcerer in his bedroom and makes sure he's fed three times a day with the occasional sweet treat thrown every once in a while.
Satoru doesn't even need to ask; Suguru just knows his preferences, even after all these years.
He waits until Satoru slows down enough that signals the end of the meal despite only having consumed less than half of it. It bothers him - Satoru isn't a particularly picky eater but he's not gaining strength back at a speed Suguru is expecting, even after five days. He doesn't know what being in the prison realm has done to him and he can't let it lie anymore.
“Who did it?” Suguru asks since bringing Satoru back, watching as the other brings a bowl of miso soup up to his mouth with a shaky hand, still recovering from his time inside the cube.
“Did what,” his voice is still a little hoarse and Suguru doesn’t know if it’s because Satoru barely talked while he was in the box or if he talked until his voice ran out.
“Who sealed you in the prison realm?”
It gets a momentary pause from the white-haired man as his eyes seem to rewind back in time for a brief while before coming back out of it with a slow blink. “Ah, some old lady who made herself look like Riko. Got me good,” he smirks.
The name brings bittersweet memories and he can understand now how they managed to get Satoru to stand still long enough to open the box and seal him inside.
“Her technique?”
“Yeah, it’s--there’s not a lot of people who can get the drop on me the way she did. I’m sure she’s proud of herself.”
Suguru frowns and watches as Satoru finishes off the last of the soup and sets it down on the tray, eyeing the rest of the food with disinterest even as he tells him, “No idea who the other lady was though but damn did she look self-satisfied. Like the cat who got the cream, you know?” He laughs derisively before he devolves into a coughing fit from overusing his voice.
He picks up the tray of food and sets it aside so it's not at risk of toppling over before he hands Satoru a cup of water for his throat. He wants to find the old woman and kill her for it, for dishonoring Riko's memory and for using her against Satoru. He wants to kill the other lady too, but she's a footnote compared to the other curse user. It doesn’t exactly align with his ideals; it’s more of a personal vendetta for someone he owes nothing to, not anymore.
In the end, he doesn't do anything.
---
Satoru isn’t just thin, he’s also still in a way that he’s never been before. Like he’s grown used to silence and stillness and simply staring into the middle distance.
Several times Suguru has to coax Satoru into conversation, or into acknowledging something but more often than not, he’s stuck in his own head as surely as if he’s back in that box.
Suguru wonders what Satoru saw, or what he’s thinking about. If he slept, did he have dreams or nightmares? Was he aware of time passing? Did time even pass at all?
All his research regarding the prison realm only talked about how to open and close it again and explained that it can only hold one occupant at a time with the only way to make it become useable again is if the person inside is released or if the occupant somehow killed themselves, whichever comes first.
Looking at the state that Satoru is in, he thinks it was going to be the latter rather than the former.
And it does something to him, hurts him deeply at the possibility that Satoru would ever be reduced to taking his own life in order to escape Hell.
---
"Where have you been, Getou-sama?" Mimiko asks him one day after he's taken in his second curse. "You've been leaving the temple more often than usual lately."
The churn in his gut is a constant friend of his but it's easy to ignore it as he turns to her and tells her, "Resting. The cold's been bothering me a lot these days." It's not a lie but it's not the entire truth either, and he knows she believes him when she eyes his right shoulder, or what's left of it, before her eyes skitters back to meet his. He knows she harbors some guilt over it, same as Nanako when they both flew back to the school on the pelican curse and stole him back home but he's made his peace with it the day it happened. Better to lose an arm than to lose his life.
It was still touch and go, though.
"We should have sukiyaki for dinner," she suggests, seemingly without much prompt.
He chuckles. "Sure. Get me a list and I'll send someone out to get them for us."
"We'll get it! Larue-chan can help. Might as well put his muscles to good use," she says excitedly as she meets him for a brief hug that he barely gets to reciprocate before she's dashing off to find her sister.
Suguru sighs, rubbing a hand over his shoulder and turns down the corridor that will take him to another meeting room where a curse lingers over a monkey, ready to be consumed. The third one for today.
His gut churns, the constant friend.
---
Whenever Satoru isn't lying in bed, he's sitting by the window on top of a low dresser, turning it into a makeshift reading nook except instead of reading, he just stares outside the window through the sheer curtains.
The sleeves of his borrowed sweater covers all the way down to his knuckles but he's picked up the habit of pulling at them until they fall over his fingers, bunching them up until he can close his fist entirely over the material. It stretches the neckline, exposing his collarbones and ruining the original shape, not that Suguru particularly cares for it but he can't help the frown on his face at the way Satoru is purposefully avoiding his eye contact even through the reflection.
He doesn't sigh but it's a close thing. Satoru still isn't eating as much as he should and it's showing up too obviously with how he's nearly swimming in Suguru's clothes. They're of the same height, near-abouts, and while Satoru was never quite the same build as Suguru, he's also never this type of lean.
It's been a week now since Satoru was released from the prison realm and he just isn't trying. Whenever Suguru tries to get an answer from him, he gets ignored and he knows when he's being ignored on purpose.
"Satoru," he says, a bit of his frustration bleeding through enough that the other man stills for a moment and the blue glow of their eyes in the reflection blinks.
"You should've left me in there."
He works his jaw for a short moment before asking, "Why?"
"You know why."
"I really don't," he tells him, not wanting to come to conclusions, not wanting to make bad assumptions. If he'd been in Satoru's shoes he would've done anything to get out, but he wonders what happened in there that sapped Satoru of his will, of his strength, of the essence that makes Satoru Satoru.
This isn't the man he knew in his teens. This isn't the man he last saw a year ago and it bothers him to see this version of him, so dull and muted.
"It was nice," he says a little whimsically, "Not having to pretend."
Suguru sucks in a quiet breath of surprise.
"Now I have to try and remember how to pretend again."
He lets it out and says softly, "You don't have to pretend with me."
Satoru chuckles but it's a sad sound and he rarely lets himself be sad in front of other people. "I always pretend when it comes to you. Anything else doesn't bear thinking."
He wants to ask: What happened to you? What did you see in there? But the words won't come out.
"Nobody can know," Satoru mumbles quietly, almost like he's talking to himself.
"Know what?" He probes gently, wanting to know, wanting to find out.
"Nobody can know you're the only one who can bring me to my knees and make me want to--" His voice cuts off like he suddenly remembers he's not alone anymore, the way he stills and the way his blue eyes widen and stare unblinkingly into the distance.
"Satoru."
"You should've left me in there," he murmurs quietly.
Suguru tries to encourage them to keep talking but it's as if they've completely run out of words.
---
What do you do when the world's strongest sorcerer doesn't want to be strong anymore?
Suguru doesn't know.
---
"This isn't like you," he says after a while, just before he has to leave to return to his duties at the temple. He'd only meant to stay here for an hour but now it's been almost three.
"You don't really know me anymore. And I'm not deluded enough to think I know you as well as I used to, either."
He feels bitterness clawing up his throat and feels a little mean as he says, "I never thought I'd say this but I miss the old you."
Satoru barks out a laugh, so sudden and so loud it catches him off guard. And then he keeps laughing, unhinged and uncontrollable, eyes wide and mouth open until he's gasping with it.
Suguru doesn't mention the wetness in those blue eyes but he hears it when Satoru mutters under his breath, "Likewise," and looks like he wants to say more, his throat bobbing in his throat with the effort it's taking to keep the words from spilling out of him. In the end, silence reigns, and Suguru walks away.
---
Miguel is leaving again and Suguru doesn't know if he's taking his so-called protégé with him or not so he'd have one less trouble to think about. He doesn't bother asking as he wishes the other man a safe journey back home and to call more often when he can.
"Reception is shit there, you know that."
He smiles, "I'm aware. Hence the " when you can " affixed to the request."
The dark-skinned man laughs and offers an ironic one-armed hug around Suguru and doles out the same to the rest of the family before picking up his one duffle bag to leave them again. He hopes that bag isn't the only thing he leaves Japan with and silently hopes someone else joins him on that flight out.
"Sad Miguel couldn't join us for one more dinner before leaving," Nanako says as soon as Miguel is out of sight, scuffing her shoe along the floor and pouting a little bit, looking upset.
"His flight leaves at 7pm; he'll get his dinner on the plane," Mimiko tells her as she starts tugging on her hand. "We should get okonomiyaki and send him pics and make him jealous!"
"Yeah!"
He chuckles at his girls, rolling his eyes fondly as they start taking orders rapidly from everyone, the adults humoring the teens who are far too eager to get an early dinner just to tease Miguel with it.
It feels good, and heartwarming, but he finds his mind wandering back to his apartment bedroom and wonders if Satoru is sitting by his homemade window nook.
---
Suguru has food for Satoru in the apartment for him but he never eats any of it unless Suguru gives it to him. It would piss him off to think that Satoru is doing this on purpose so he can be waited on hand and foot but he remembers in their younger years when the white-haired boy used to unintentionally deprive himself because he's grown up used to deprivation but it's never gotten to this stage before. It's not that Satoru is absent minded about eating, it's just that he has no drive for it, not unless Suguru puts food in front of him and makes sure he partakes in some of it.
Satoru has also taken to staring at Suguru lately whenever he's not looking at the world outside, eyes almost never leaving him. It would unnerve him if he could be bothered to feel self-conscious about how he presents himself to the white-haired man. His teen years are far behind him and he doesn't have anything to prove anymore.
His blue eyes linger at the place where his right arm used to be, at his empty sleeve, and it catches Suguru by surprise when Satoru drops his gaze and looks away from him without Suguru having to force the break in visual contact by leaving to another room.
"You're not a prisoner here, by the way. You can leave whenever you want to," he says after nearly two weeks of this. He doesn't want Satoru to be his problem anymore, wants to foist him back to Shoko but doesn't know if she can even do a better job than him.
"Sure," he says with a careless shrug, not making a move to change back into the clothes he arrived in and go.
Suguru waits and waits and waits. After nearly 30 minutes of nothing, he feels his patience run out but Satoru beats him to the punch with a simple, "Hey."
He clenches his mouth shut and lets out an encouraging hum instead. "Hm?"
"Where's that box you found me in."
He grits his teeth as he demands, "Why."
"No reason."
He breathes and tries not to make assumptions, tries not to jump to conclusions but it's difficult not to pre-emptively judge.
Suguru keeps waiting for Satoru to speak but when he doesn't, he snaps. "...You want a prison, is that it?"
Another careless shrug. "I don't wanna be a god anymore. Being in that box made me realize how infinitesimal I really am and it felt good. No burdens, no worries, no expectations. I don't get that out here."
He hates this man. This shadow of a man.
"Inside that box, I'm not Gojo Satoru. I'm nothing."
He scoffs. "You've never been nothing."
"That's the crux of the problem, isn't it?" He smirks as he looks at Suguru over his shoulder, "No one will let me be nothing."
He works his jaw and continues to hate this man.
The smirk falls off and his expression falls flat. "I'm surprised you won't let me be nothing."
He snaps again. "Fine. Fine! You want a prison, I'll make you one."
There's a glow of anticipation from Satoru now, his body vibrating from where he sits, like he doesn't believe a single word Suguru is saying to him, like he's daring him to try. There's almost an excitement to him, the kind he hasn't witnessed since before the mission that collectively changed their lives for the worst and Suguru doesn't know what to do with it.
He walks away and shuts the door behind him, knowing that Satoru won't bother trying to leave. He has plans to make and he hates this shadow of a man but it doesn't stop him from wanting to save them.
---
How do you save someone who doesn't want to be saved?
Suguru doesn't know how to answer that, either.
---
He knows how to make seals. He would even call himself proficient in them, but to make seals specifically for Gojo Satoru requires more finesse than all the others he's ever created, more precision than all of them combined.
He holes himself away in his room, pulling things together and preparing, only leaving occasionally to tend to his duties, eat food, make Satoru eat food, then return to spend more hours gathering the things he needs for what he intends to do.
There aren't a lot of things that can hold the strongest sorcerer down and keep him down. With certainty, the prison realm is one but Suguru never wants that to become an option. He'd made a curse swallow it down as soon as he was done with it and hoped it would never see the light of day again, hoped it'll disappear with him upon his death.
Suguru spends hours and hours drawing out talismans using his own blood as the medium, painstakingly pouring his cursed energy into every line, every stroke, never stopping, never faltering, from start to finish. Four days, four pieces, an unlucky number to be certain, spells death just as surely.
He's exhausted by the end of it but he knows it'll work. After all, he's the only other person who can stand on equal ground as Gojo Satoru, the God to his Devil.
---
The seals that took him four days to create using his blood and cursed energy are ready to be used.
"Hold your arms out."
Satoru does so without question, eyes watchful.
It's painstakingly slow because Suguru only has one hand to do this with but he makes it work as he pushes the stretched sleeves out of the way and starts to wrap Satoru's wrist with them, one slow rotation at a time. The first one takes a while to put on but by the time he gets the third wrapped around Satoru's ankle, he's gotten the hang of it. When the last seal is in place he hears the choked gasp from the other, the way his cursed energy suddenly vanishes, brought to heel by nothing more than four strips of paper bound around his wrists and ankles.
Satoru is shivering as he stares down at the seals, his hands trembling at the feeling of all his strength sapped away from him.
Suguru hates it. Hates that he's effectively made Gojo Satoru a damn monkey.
"As long as I live, you'll never be able to take these off. Nothing you do will work against them even if you were to try and cut them off. If anybody makes the attempt, they will die when your cursed energy releases and rebounds off to them."
Satoru is laughing again and for the first time since Okinawa, he looks free and unburdened.
"From today onwards, you are no one and nothing. Not unless I say so."
His laughter chokes off but his body doesn't stop shaking.
Suguru turns to leave and is about to close the door behind him when he hears a quiet, "Thank you."
It bothers him deeply and while he can't say he wasn't looking forward to the day he got to see Satoru again, he just never expected for things to take such a drastic turn.
Chapter Text
The students are running themselves to the ground. They're still trying to find Satoru but now they're also trying to find the person behind his disappearance, angry with vengeance and hurting anyone and everyone who tries to stymie their efforts. More than once, he's seen the assassin's boy put someone in their place for saying they're managing things fine without Gojo around anymore and it was satisfying to see Zen'in Naoya's face get punched in by a brat that's a decade younger, getting himself flattened in the process from being caught off guard for the brazen comment.
He snickers and watches as the boy digs his heels into the stomach of the would-be heir and says something too quiet for Suguru's fly-head curse to make out.
Iori and Ijichi are also there to assist with searches but neither of them lift a finger to stop the pummeling that Zen'in Naoya is receiving, the former being content to simply observe while the latter sweats profusely at the display of violence. He's not surprised that Mei Mei isn't around, not one to do anything for free.
The dark-haired monkey kicks the man across the face, hard enough to knock him out and Suguru winces at the memory of having received a similar hit before in his youth, but damn if it isn't satisfying to see that insufferable man get his just desserts.
The five students reconvene with Iori and Ijichi a few feet away, uncaring of the bleeding and bruised body behind them, conferring with each other, sharing plans, sharing locations, keeping each other updated on where they've gone and where they've yet to go.
The monkey is on the phone talking to someone and relaying information back and forth but it doesn't take long until they're hanging up and saying they'll need to try again in Naha where Satoru was last seen.
They're too late, though. Even if they manage to track Satoru the way he was able to, they won't find him there anymore. He made sure to erase all traces of his residuals from that point onward. Neither of them will be found, least of all by a bunch of children.
---
Larue catches him at the end of the day on his way out, one hand on his left arm, expression open and concerned. "Are you alright, Suguru-chan?"
He chuckles, "Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
"You seem more tired than usual," they say after a searching look.
"Ah, it's the cold weather, you know how it is," he tells them instead, not willing to divulge the fact that he's only this tired because he stupidly spent a good portion of his cursed energy making talismans across a few days rather than spacing it out across a whole week. Stupid, in hindsight, to go this far and continue to do this much for Satoru.
He feels like he's 16 again and hates himself for it.
---
He finds Satoru looking outside the window as usual when he comes into the bedroom but what isn't usual is that when Satoru turns to look at Suguru there's a small quiet smile on his face and it makes his heart lurch in his chest. It was never supposed to be a permanent thing but a part of him wants to keep Satoru here forever and damn everybody else.
Spending four days making the talismans was stupid, in hindsight, but the smile makes it worth it.
---
"Your errands seem to be taking you away from the temple more often than usual these days," Manami notes as she regards him with a cool gaze.
He returns the look with one of his own and realizes he's not as subtle as he thinks he is. He needs to up his game - Manami's the second person to have taken notice and he wouldn't be surprised if the rest of the family have figured something's up, too.
"I'm working on a personal project of mine," he says as honestly as he can, "But I'm not at the stage where I'm willing to divulge information regarding said project, yet."
She hums, "It's unusual for you to not include one or two of us in the process. You know we're not so busy that you have to go back to doing things on your own like before."
"I'm aware, but a man needs his privacy."
She hums again and her expression turns sly as she teases him, "Make sure you introduce your " project " to the family soon. We'd love to be involved."
Suguru laughs as he starts to walk away to better hide the tremble in his fingers. "Don't go making silly assumptions now, Manami. That won't do at all."
"I'm sure," she retorts cheekily but lets him go without another word.
---
Satoru never leaves the bedroom, only ever moves back and forth between that space and the ensuite bathroom. He never goes into the living room, he never goes into the kitchen, he never goes onto the balcony. It's almost as if he doesn't want to exist anywhere else outside that space he's carved for himself in that room.
Suguru doesn't like it. Satoru has never been small, has always been a force larger than life, but seeing him like this, seeing him hunched over himself in his borrowed clothes and the tightly wrapped seals around his wrists and ankles, he looks anything but the god he used to be.
"What do you do all day?" Suguru asks one day out of curiosity.
"Nothing," he says and he looks satisfied by it as he plays with the stretched sleeves.
"Nothing?"
He hums, "That's what I said."
"Satoru."
His body comes to a stop and he looks like he almost stops breathing even as he quietly says, "I don't want that name anymore."
He frowns, mind turning as he asks, "What do you want me to call you then?"
A nonchalant shrug that's anything but. "You can decide."
"Fine. Sato, then."
Angry blue eyes turn to look at him, "That's not--"
"It means sugar. You like sweets, don't you? Or Toru, since you're being so persistent about it," he pushes and he knows he's being mean but he hates this man, hates this version of him.
Satoru huffs, shaking his head as he turns his head to look back out the window and Suguru wonders if maybe he pushed it too far.
"Call me whatever you want. Just not Satoru."
His frown deepens as his mind turns in frantic circles as he tries to see what Satoru is seeing beyond the glass, wonders what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking, and decides, "Fine. Sora, then," because he wants to be able to see him touch the sky again one day, not just stare at it forlornly from behind sheer curtains and cold window panes.
They don't say anything else and Suguru leaves the room, closing the door behind him with a lump in his throat.
---
Occasionally he finds himself working with curse users though not very often - everybody has their own agenda after all and not all of them line up with his - but it's good for information gathering, trying to keep a finger on the pulse of the goings-on of the Jujutsu society.
This particular curse user is little better than a monkey himself, able to see curses but doesn't even have a technique to use nor any strength to make him have much worth. Still, Suguru keeps him around to help with gathering curses and pays him accordingly depending on the strength of the cursed spirits he brings back to the temple for him to consume. The curse user is only slightly better than a non-shaman, but only just slightly, especially when they come back for the second week in a row with nothing but begging for money anyway and promising they'll try harder in the future. In a way, this curse user is no better than the other monkeys that occasionally come to him begging for something, always making up excuses for their lack of initiative, lack of forethought, lack of support, always some useless and meaningless excuse to justify why they keep falling short.
"There's a lot of competition now, especially because that man is gone, so a lot of other curse users are coming out of the woodworks and it's harder than usual to just bring anything back."
"What did you say?" He asks, tone dangerously low and deceptively calm.
He sees Toshihisa make the smallest movement in his periphery but he continues to ignore it as he stares the curse user down.
"I was just saying there's a lot of other people flooding the industry again and--"
"Do you hear what I'm hearing, Toshihisa?" Suguru says conversationally as he summons a curse with a wave of his hand.
The dark-haired man turns his eyes towards him momentarily before returning his gaze to the sweaty man in front of him. "Just someone making excuses."
"Yes, exactly that. Excuses, " he repeats with a sharp grin.
They start to tremble where they stand and suddenly fall to their knees to grovel. "I'm sorry, I'll try harder, I'll try--"
The curse eats them up, the curse user screaming as he gets chewed up and gnashed between sharp teeth, his feet kicking and flailing until they fall to a dead stop and disappear into the gullet of the curse, leaving only a few spots and dribbles of blood behind. Suguru stares disdainfully at the mess and thinks he should've deployed the curse that took care of the old widow last time. It's not as satisfying a result but at least it was clean. He sighs.
"I'll get someone to mop it up," Toshihisa offers before he has to ask for it.
"Please do," he says as he stores the curse back where it came from and turns to them, "Tell me the other two monkeys did a better job than this one."
"Not by much."
"Useless," he scowls as he turns towards the next meeting room to repeat the song and dance.
And then he gets an idea, but he has to test it first.
---
"Eat," he tells Satoru as he sets the tray down on top of the low dresser next to him. It's a simple meal of miso soup, rice, sliced beef cooked with onions, tamagoyaki and potato salad. Suguru has kikufuku set aside for dessert later but he wants to make sure Satoru eats something more substantial than just sweets first.
The white-haired man turns away from the window, his fingers peeking out past the stretched out sleeve as he picks up the pair of chopsticks and looks up to extend his thanks only for his body to come to a sudden stop, his eyes widening at the sight of the curse hanging over Suguru's shoulder, his mouth open in a silent gasp.
Just as suddenly, his eyes drop away and he stabs at the tamagoyaki, bringing it to his mouth as he turns his gaze back out the window, his expression hardened to one of deep betrayal.
It answers one of Suguru's questions at least, that despite the loss of his cursed energy Satoru still retains the ability to see curses even if he can't do much with the rest of his technique, locked up behind four pieces of paper.
He's not sorry, even as the white-haired man eats even less than usual, setting the chopsticks down where he'd initially picked it up from, his fingers disappearing back into the folds of the borrowed sweater, blue eyes resolutely avoiding him and avoiding the curse.
Satoru doesn't touch the kikufuku and it's then Suguru knows that the other is truly pissed. Despite this, he's still not sorry.
---
His shoulder aches deeply, almost enough to make him sweat as he reaches into the folds of his kasaya to rub a hand against the skin pulled tight against what's left of his missing arm. He thinks longingly of pills but doesn't like the idea of becoming dependent on painkillers. The Winter months will eventually leave them and take most of his pain and frustration with it.
He feels broad hands cover his shoulders and he huffs a little in thanks as he pulls his own hand away to accept the small ministrations.
"You always carry too much, Suguru-chan," Larue says softly and Suguru can't help the wince when thumbs dig into his trapezius just above his shoulder blades and push in deeply to loosen the tension there.
"What kind of leader would I make if I sat on my laurels all day while the rest of my family carried my burdens for me."
The blond man chuckles as he continues the shoulder massage, "You've never once made any of us do something you yourself wouldn't do."
"If I can't stand to dirty my hands then I'm no better than those old fools," he spits scornfully and feels when Larue's hands pause momentarily before continuing.
"You're doing enough, Suguru-chan."
He begs to differ.
Suguru thinks hatefully of the old men sitting atop their pedestals of Jujutsu society and wonders how much the world would change with their absence. Their society as a whole has grown stagnant and it would be right to even say they're starting to go backwards.
He never wants that to happen to him. He embraces change and chaos, anything to disrupt the old ways, anything to progress humanity as a whole, anything to bring about evolution. But then his thoughts turn to Satoru and it bothers him how the other simply wants to be left behind in the dust.
Suguru has no room for monkeys in his ideal world but for Satoru he'll make an exception. He always has.
---
"Sora," he says as a test and sees the way they inexplicably turn their blue eyes on him, cautiously at first as their eyes flicker to Suguru's curse-free shoulder before turning their body towards him. It bothers him how willing they are to relinquish their entire identity at the drop of a hat and he wonders how far he can push it, how far he can go to erase Satoru from the world, keep them for himself.
Ha hates himself for it and squashes that feeling in his chest and wishes the younger version of himself stayed dead in his mind.
He hates this shadow of a man, too, how willing they are to leave it all behind them, all the years spent being the strongest, all the effort put into refining their techniques, everything that made them the chosen one, the honored one, a god in the flesh.
Suguru refuses to let them waste it all.
It's been nearly a month now since Satoru's been here and Suguru decides it's been long enough.
"Come here," he tells them as he goes into the ensuite bathroom and sets down a bag of supplies - bottles of black hair dye, a pair of hairdresser scissors, hair clippers, makeup and boxes of contact lenses.
On the kitchen counter outside is another bag, this time with different coloured fabric face masks, hats in different shades of dark and wrists bands of different styles, materials and colors. Suguru won't give Satoru the luxury of hiding anymore, but it won't stop him from hiding them in plain sight.
It takes over an hour and two bottles of hair dye but the look doesn't feel complete until Satoru paints on some makeup on his brows and lashes, his blue eyes already covered up by the dark brown contact lenses. Satoru still looks like Satoru even through the visual changes but at least with this he won't stand out as easily, won't be seen as anything other than a painfully normal man.
He gives them a change of clothes, instructs them to put on a few wristbands to cover up the seals in case they ever want to roll up their sleeves, makes them pull a mask to cover their nose and mouth, a pair of dark tinted glasses and a hat to make it easier for them to hide under.
From afar, Satoru looks like any other stupid monkey and it pleases him to know this idea will work even if it bothers his soul to no end.
"My organization has two types of people in it," he starts to explain as he checks the wristbands to make sure they cover enough of the seals, "People who collect money and people who collect curses. You're going to be the latter. You find the--people with curses and you send them to me at the temple. Do you understand?" He thinks Satoru notices his slight blip, the near slip-up of the word monkey but doesn't seem to care to point it out.
"Yes."
"When you leave this apartment, your name is Sora and you are not allowed to remove your mask or show anybody those seals on your wrists."
"Yes."
"If you think someone recognizes you, ditch them and make your way back here. Don't leave until I say it's clear."
"Yes."
He hates it but he has no room for sentimentality here.
"Time for you to prove your usefulness to me."
There's a glow of determination in Satoru's eyes, even through the dark brown contact lenses he's wearing. Suguru sends him off and watches as Satoru walks out into the sun for the first time in nearly a year since his disappearance in Naha.
---
The first day Satoru goes out into the world he gets a small influx of people saying that they were told they can find help for their problems here at the temple and it makes him laugh that he would be an overachiever even in this.
---
He waits patiently at home, counting the seconds and the minutes and the hours long after the sun has set. He never specified when to return to the apartment by but he trusts Satoru to come back, he trusts Satoru to want to come back, so he sits patiently and he waits.
Shortly after 9, the door to the apartment opens up and in strolls Satoru who doesn't remove his mask and hat until the door shuts behind him, a gleam in his brown eyes and the smallest quirk of his lips, as though entertained.
"Did I do good?" He asks as he starts taking off the wristbands, unbuttoning and loosening straps.
Suguru chuckles as he gets up from the couch and approaches him, "You did. Have you eaten yet?"
"No," he says as he runs a hand through his hair that still smells strongly of chemicals, his nose wrinkling in discontent.
"What do you want to have for dinner?" He asks as he pulls out his phone, opening up the app that takes him to a meal delivery service.
"I don't mind," he shrugs as he goes into the bedroom and straight into the ensuite to wash his hands and take out the contacts, putting them away in their specified cases before using some facial wipes to get rid of the makeup on his face. It smudges a little bit, doesn't come off cleanly and Suguru makes a note to buy something better for him to use.
"Are you sure?" He questions, thumb hovering over the search bar.
"I'll eat whatever you give me," he smirks as he shuts the door in Suguru's face. Seconds pass before the shower turns on and the sound of clothes dropping onto the floor is heard.
Suguru orders a karaage donburi with a side of pickled vegetables and cabbage salad to go with it from one restaurant and orders kikufuku for dessert from another shop to make up for the other day.
They arrive just before Satoru is done with his shower who comes out of the steaming hot room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, black hair dripping wet and trailing down his lean body.
He rolls his eyes at the sight from where he sits at the dining table and watches Satoru eat with an appreciation that was missing in all the other times Suguru has given him food. Tonight marks the first night where Satoru manages to finish all of his dinner, looking pleased and happy with a mouthful of mochi and whipped cream, and Suguru wonders if he has a chance after all.
---
It continues like this for days, for weeks, for months.
---
The kids aren't kids anymore. He can see it in the way they hold themselves, left desolated by the wake of Satoru's sudden departure a year ago by this point, marking an unwanted anniversary. But Suguru is nothing but selfish, always has been, and he's not willing to give Satoru back to the people who took him for granted, not when the man wants to stay out of it, happy to play monkey just so he can escape it all.
He keeps his ears out and his head low and trusts Satoru to be able to do the same and keep himself out of trouble.
When he hears the rumours about the Zen'in clan's decimation he almost shrugs it off as fake news but Manami is nothing but thorough and would never tell him false information even for a joke. Even so, he needs his own confirmation of the events that transpired, sending out small curses to scout ahead and gather information for him, making them travel far and wide, following and listening in and letting Suguru borrow their eyes and ears.
In the end, it's true. In the end, another group of sorcerers perish and the lone Zen'in monkey evolves.
The top 3 dwindles down to 2.
---
A part of him had wanted this, wanted the old powers to be disassembled and torn down for a new one to rise in its place, wanted monkeys to better themselves, to be more than just simple-minded animals, but somehow he feels no satisfaction from it at all.
---
Mimiko and Nanako both used to grab an arm each whenever they leave the temple to go somewhere, whether it's for shopping or for food or some new trendy dessert place that they wanted him to take them to but they've now settled for grabbing hold of his sleeves instead, switching sides during the return trip so they can have equal time with him. It's the best solution they can come to without needing to fight over who gets his remaining arm and it makes him laugh and touched at the same time.
On the way home, he stupidly buys a pack of six strawberry daifukus and the girls get excited over it saying that if Miguel hadn't left then everybody could've had one each. He laughs to hide the fact that he'd initially bought it for Satoru and asks, "What about me?"
Nanako rolls her eyes as she points out, "You never want one."
"Rock, paper scissors the last one?" Mimiko suggests and Suguru cuts in and tells them to split the last one in half to avoid the grumbling later on. They both pout but agree that it's a good idea as they link arms with each other and walk ahead of Suguru, pointing things out and giggling at some of the sillier things they might see, just being two teenage girls.
The paper bag holding the daifuku is swinging around in Nanako's hand and Suguru never wants to slip and make the same mistake again.
---
The first time his phone rings and he sees Satoru's new number saved under the name of Sora he's glad none of his family are around to see him power walk to his study and lock the door behind him before answering it. Suguru told him not to call unless it's an emergency and while he knows they have different ideas of what constitutes an emergency he knows Satoru calling him is most likely his absolute last resort.
"I'm in trouble," Satoru says casually as soon as Suguru picks up.
"Where are you," he asks as he eyes the locked door and keeps his voice even and low. His family aren't the type to eavesdrop, not even his two teenage girls but he also knows better than to take chances when he doesn't need to, especially where Satoru is concerned.
"In Edogawa."
"Are you safe?"
"Nope."
He frowns, mind whirring for possibilities and escape routes and the very few safe houses he has scattered throughout the city. "How bad."
"Okkotsu Yuuta."
He closes his eyes in dismay at hearing the worst possible outcome. "Ah. Are you coming to me or am I going to you."
"Better if you don't come. I don't want you to lose your other arm," he chuckles darkly.
He snorts as he rolls his eyes and tries to think fast. Edogawa isn't technically too far away but it would solely depend on whether Satoru is across the bridge or not. He has a rundown apartment near Katsushika they can use that he'll most likely have to ditch after today's over. It's hardly good for anything so he won't miss it.
There's the sound of wind and movement coming from Satoru's side and Suguru holds the phone closer to his ear as the other man speaks quietly, "I'll let him try to take the seals off. The rebound might buy me enough time to slip away but it'll let everybody know that I'm not exactly dead."
"Don't do that," he tells him before the other gets any more bright ideas. "I'm sending you a location, go there and stay there. There'll be a key behind the air conditioning unit for you to get in with. If you can ditch him before you reach it, even better. If not then we'll deal with it once I arrive."
"Yes."
He waits for Satoru to hang up first before he swears under his breath and wishes Okkotsu Yuuta had left the country with Miguel. He has a headache now and he pushes the corner of his phone against the skin between his brow for a moment before he composes himself and leaves the temple to pick up his stray.
---
The apartment building looks even worse on the outside than he remembers, the ugly teal paint peeling in some places and bubbled up in others. It's an eyesore which he hadn’t minded when it was being sold for cheap despite the location. It had been cursed and everybody who owned it kept dying until Suguru came along and got the place for a steal, not to mention a free powerful curse as a housewarming gift.
He keeps an eye out as he walks into the building and starts making his way to the apartment, staying light on his feet as he tries the door handle and finds it unlocked for him.
Satoru is not alone when he steps inside and even after all these years, Okkotsu Yuuta is still a force to be reckoned with. If anything, he's more controlled now, more dangerous than he was previously, more sharpened edges hidden in the folds of his clothes. Suguru needs to be more careful because he knows he won't be able to walk away a second time.
His shoulder starts to ache as soon as he sees him. At least it answers the question of whether the boy left Japan with Miguel or not and it turns out to be a definitive and disappointing no.
He closes the door behind him and tells himself he's not trapped here with the only other person in the whole world that can actually kill him.
"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now," threatens Okkotsu Yuuta, the first words said from him since that dreadful day.
Suguru opens his mouth but he shuts them when Satoru comes over and stands right in front of him. He's glad to see the mask is still on at least, same as the hat and tinted glasses and while it might fool most people, it's not enough if people know what to look for, it's not enough to hide a presence like Gojo Satoru, and he wasn't foolish enough to believe it would with a 100% chance.
"Gojo-sensei?"
The man in front of him shrugs, seemingly unbothered, "Sorry, kid, like I said, don't know anybody by that name."
"You did something to him," Okkotsu says accusingly, leveling his eyes towards Suguru and looking like he wishes he could kill him with the force of his glare alone.
"I didn't do whatever you're accusing me of. You're the one that's harassing my employee."
"Emplo--" the boy's expression darkens and takes on a murderous edge and he looks like he's one second away from drawing his katana. "You think I'm blind? That I can't tell who is standing right in front of me? That even with his cursed energy whittled down to nothing, even with his dyed hair and contact lenses and that mask , it doesn't change the fact that you've been keeping Gojo-sensei from us.”
“I’ve done no such thing.”
“ Liar !”
He wants to laugh. “I don’t keep anybody against their will and despite what you think of me, I’m no jailor.”
Okkotsu Yuuta obviously doesn’t believe him but he doesn’t care one way or another. He shrugs carelessly as he opens the door and waits for Satoru to walk out before following, knowing he’ll be taking a big risk turning his back on the sorcerer who’s responsible for his missing right arm, “We’ll be taking our leave now.”
He’s surprised when he feels Satoru’s hand on his lower back, pushing him ahead instead, and decides to let the motion guide him along.
“Stop. I’m not letting you leave without getting answers from you first.”
He laughs as he keeps walking, throwing the words over his shoulder, “You’ve nothing to bargain with.”
“Just one question.”
Suguru finds himself pausing for a moment, ears out for any potential eavesdropping neighbors but his senses tell him there's nobody on their current floor, the next closest monkey is at least two floors above them.
“Did you make him forget us?” Okkotsu asks, something like pain trembling in his voice along with a healthy dash of anguish.
“Keep walking,” Satoru murmurs quietly into his ear.
"I merely picked up the pieces that were left behind," he tells the boy, feeling the way Satoru’s hand tightens imperceptibly on his lower back. “I’m a scavenger. It’s what I do best,” he looks over his shoulder and smirks at them.
"You--!"
"Hey."
Okkotsu stops in the midst of taking another step forward, stilling under the face of his former teacher, eyes wide and willing and waiting.
"I'll kill myself if you come any closer."
Suguru closes his eyes - that's definitely not what he wants but he says nothing to undermine Satoru's words as his heart thumps hard at the sudden spike of fear and hesitation, reminded of the prison realm that would only release its occupant under specific conditions.
"Gojo--"
"Leave me alone. Don't follow us or I'll do something you'll regret. Send any of your friends after me and I'll make sure to put a knife to my throat," he threatens, effectively ending the conversation.
Okkotsu Yuuta looks conflicted but in the end lets them walk away.
---
Suguru sends his scouts out to follow after the boy while he takes the roundabout route to guide them home, taking almost three times as long to make it through the doors of his apartment safe and sound and, most importantly, unfollowed.
"What am I gonna do with you, Sora," he hisses in frustration while the other takes off his hat and roughly rubs a hand in his hair, his motions just as frustrated as Suguru feels.
"I dunno. Keep keeping me, maybe?" He says as he tosses the hat, mask and glasses carelessly aside before disappearing into the ensuite to clean up his face.
"I let you leave the apartment for less than two months and you've already caused me the biggest headache I've had in years."
The sound of water running fills the air and it's not long before Satoru comes back out with parts of his face and hair wet, the smallest smudges of black mascara left behind on his pale skin before leaning heavily on the door jamb, his jaw working as he stares hard at Suguru.
He sighs and shakes his head as he turns away from the drip of water trailing down along Satoru's jaw. "You're not leaving until the next time I say you're ready."
"...Yes."
Suguru needs a new plan.
---
He goes back to the temple way past midnight, nearly 3am, skulking in when he knows nobody's going to be awake to question his late return. His shoulder aches and hasn't stopped aching since he laid eyes on Okkotsu Yuuta, his skin feeling like it's pulled too tight over what's left of his shoulder. It hurts and the cool sheets of his bed aren't enough to ward off the sweat from his body, curling in on himself and gripping tight, jaw clenched.
Damn that boy. And damn Satoru for letting himself get seen by him of all people.
He falls into a fitful sleep and doesn't wake up until the early morning hours just as the sun is rising.
---
Satoru's white hair starts peeking out at the roots after a week of no maintenance and it makes Suguru think of a skunk. He tells him this and Satoru makes a face at him from where he sits by the window nook.
"Give me a few days and I'll stink like one, too."
He laughs because he knows it'll never happen. "You like being clean too much to go through with it."
"Wanna bet?" He says with a wide grin, leaning forward like he's daring Suguru to go ahead and take it.
"Not at all, because unlike you, I know when to walk away."
The smile falls from Satoru's face and Suguru immediately knows he's ruined the good mood. Satoru drops his gaze and turns his body back to the outside world, his posture defeated.
He hates it. What he's doing.
---
He receives another potential investor in the form of a woman with too many scorned lovers whose individual curses have come together into a disgusting conglomerate of human contempt and lust. Her makeup is impeccable and so is her posture but it doesn't hide the fact that she's drowning under the stench of all her follies combined.
She simpers at him, trying to sway him into assisting her, hoping to solve her problems with sweet words and coquettish charm but nothing beats the sound of a pen scratch across a checkbook for Suguru which she's not yet willing to do. He smiles and tells her that he's busy for the foreseeable future and politely bids her farewell until the next time they meet again.
He hears her little huff of annoyance as she walks away and the sound of her heels clicking out of the temple, led away by Toshihisa who stands ready to escort her out.
He'll make her wait, make her become desperate enough to come back and beg for his help, then he can make her line his pockets with more yen than she'd wish to part with. He's a patient man and he knows a returning customer when he sees one.
Suguru's on the way to meet another cursed monkey when Manami intercepts him, her expression looking rather grim for first thing in the morning but he gestures for her to walk with him.
"We've got a problem," she opens up with.
"I find it hard to believe anybody else can measure up to our biggest problem of before."
"It's Okkotsu Yuuta this time," she tells him and he can't help the scowl on his face and the sudden ache in his shoulder at the mere mention of his name. "Might as well be Gojo 2.0 with the way he's culling out the curses before our scouts can get to them."
He snorts and decides it's a good thing he hasn't allowed Satoru to leave the apartment yet. He knows the boy is still looking for their sensei and he has not yet made proper precautions against that. Another meeting will be inevitable, he thinks, and if the boy were to come flanked by his friends then it would spell the absolute end of Suguru. He's not foolish enough to think himself as invincible, no matter the fact that he's the worst curse user to ever exist.
"It's a win-win, the way I see it," he says eventually.
"Oh?"
"If a monkey fails to bring any curses back then that's one less monkey to deal with, one step closer to what I envision to be a perfect world. Curses get dealt with, monkeys get dealt with."
She hums, eyeing him with a raised eyebrow but doesn't question it. "I see."
"Anything else to report?" He asks even though he sincerely hopes not to receive anymore foul news today.
"None for the moment."
"Alright. Thank you for your hard work, Manami."
"Of course, Suguru," she says before leaving him to his duties to tend to her own. He waits outside the door until Toshihisa returns before entering the room with another plastic smile on his face.
---
He comes back with dinner for Satoru even though he's already eaten. In the entire time that they've taken up residence in his apartment, Suguru has never once shared a meal with him. To do that would invite a kind of camaraderie he can't afford to have with the other man, nor does he want to linger in old memories of their shared past.
It's been well over 11 years by this point and their teenage years make not even a quarter of it now and he expects that distance to keep growing until they part ways again once more.
"I can make you money," Satoru says around a mouthful of rice.
"What?" He asks because he hates it when people talk with their mouth fulf and Satoru will not be an exception to this rule.
He swallows and goes to pick up a piece of tamagoyaki and tries to unravel it in his bowl of rice. "You said you only have two types of people in your organization; people who collect money and people who collect curses. Obviously I can't collect curses for you anymore but I can still try and make money," he offers as he slides in a bite of egg mixed with rice.
"How do you plan to do that?"
He shrugs as he pushes the food to the side of his mouth, looking like a squirrel with his cheek puffed out. "Give me a laptop and some cash and I'll play with the stock market. Maybe try my hand at foreign currency exchange, too," he says as he chews his food, looking thoughtful before he tells him, "Give me a month and I'll bring it back ten-fold."
"Big words."
Satoru smirks as he shoves a whole piece of tamagoyaki into his mouth and Suguru can't help but feel appalled that their table manners have somehow gotten worse. Despite this, it doesn't stop Suguru from feeling tempted by the possibility of more money. It's an idea, and he doesn't see the harm in trying it, especially since it means Satoru isn't required to leave the apartment.
---
He buys a laptop for Satoru the next day and sets it up in his study, creates a new email, a new sign-in, a new account and then transfers 10,000,000 yen into it before passing it to Satoru the next time he sees him along with the required details for him to use.
30 days isn't a lot in the grand scheme of things but it's enough for Satoru's hair to keep growing out, long enough to curl past his ears and long enough for Satoru to take the hair clippers and give himself back his usual undercut look, his hair a mix of white and black. Suguru had to pull out the vacuum cleaner for Satoru to clean up his mess because he sure as hell wasn't going to do it for him.
After 30 days, Satoru comes back with 93,648,218 yen and Suguru doesn't know why he thought they wouldn't deliver, even as he tries to play casual. "Not quite ten-fold like you said, but damn near enough for it."
Satoru catches it anyway, looking exceptionally pleased with himself. "You happy?"
"Very. Guess I'll keep you after all."
He laughs, bright and beautiful, and Suguru loves and feels guilty for it.
---
He supposes he saw it coming, supposes that his luck would run out eventually, but it still surprises him when he leaves his apartment building and he finds Okkotsu Yuuta staring him down from just beyond the doors, standing at the head of the pack with the rest of the Tokyo College behind him.
He sees the assassin's boy, along with the cursed one, the evolved monkey and several others. He sees Ijichi and Iori and even Yaga but no Shoko, which he supposes is a smart move if things were to come to blows, better to leave the healer back at the school after all.
The lack of Nanami strikes a chord in him - their death never really bothered him as much as it suddenly does now, to see one more missing face amongst the people he once knew but he forces that feeling aside to focus on the motley crew in front of him.
It pisses him off that they're here because he likes this apartment and now he has to start considering a new place to move to if he doesn’t want to get swarmed by Jujutsu sorcerers at his damn home, or if he wants to stay alive. He'd take either one at this point.
"I'll give you Rika if you give us Gojo-sensei back."
The words lure him and he laughs because he realizes he doesn't even care for the Queen of Curses anymore, not when he has the Strongest Jujutsu sorcerer in the world at his beck and call, nevermind the fact that he's effectively useless right now.
"Tempting. But no."
"She's what you want, isn't she? I'm giving her to you now. All you need to do is to give Gojo-sensei back to us."
He chuckles as he eyes them all and sees the tension in all their bodies, the clenched fists and the gritted teeth. They make it so easy to rile them up without even trying. "You're not as smart as I gave you credit for."
"Hey," a familiar voice sounds off from just beyond his shoulder.
Suguru doesn't sigh but it's a damn near thing as he hears Satoru come up close behind him.
"What did I say about sending your friends after me."
He watches as Okkotsu takes a huge step backwards, hands up and open like he's trying to placate and de-escalate the situation. It doesn't take him much to deduce that Satoru's probably got a knife to his throat.
There's a pinched look on Yaga's face, Iori's lips have taken an upset twist and Ijichi looks pale as if he's seen a ghost while the kids all look a variety of shock and dismay and fear.
"Gojo-sensei!" Several of the students shout all at once.
"Shut up. Leave me alone."
All the kids start stumbling backwards and Suguru looks over his shoulder to see the edge of the kitchen knife biting hard into the skin of his neck, streams of blood pouring down from the cut and darkening his sweater. His hand doesn't shake.
"Don't you want to come back?" The pink-haired boy asks, looking at him imploringly.
"No. Why the hell would I wanna come back to a society that doesn't give a shit about me," he says with a snarl on his face.
"That's not true, sensei."
"Pretend I'm dead if it helps you. I don't care."
"But--"
The knife bites down harder.
Suguru hears the way shoes start hurrying away from them and he turns back to see the kids pulling at each other, talking over each other, scared in a way Suguru hasn't seen them be in a long time, all the anger vanished at the face of their sensei threatening to kill himself if they so much as made the wrong move. "We gotta go. We gotta go now. Come on!"
They all hurriedly turn to leave except for one.
"I never took you for a coward," the assassin’s boy says, eyes repulsed and lips curled up in distaste.
"I couldn't afford to be one before, but now I can."
"Tch," he clicks his tongue as he walks away, the only one that never looks back a single time.
Soon, they're left alone and Suguru cautiously takes the knife away from Satoru who gives it over without putting up a fight before herding him back inside. He's glad no one else is around to see the picture the both of them make.
---
Suguru tries to clean the blood from his neck while Satoru sits by his makeshift window nook, head bowed and shoulders low like he doesn't have the strength to hold himself up anymore. He's glad it's shallow enough not to require stitches because he knows he won't be able to manage that one-handed but it's still bleeding sluggishly, making it hard to dress it as he keeps a hold of a cloth over the cut. It's a little deep in some places, maybe even enough to leave a scar and while he knows they both carry their own fair share of scars, he doesn't want this to become one.
"Hold this for me," he says as he keeps even pressure on Satoru's neck and waits until cold fingers tentatively touch the back of his knuckles and press down heavily on top of his own.
His shoulder aches with the sudden reminder of his missing arm, his inability to multitask. Suguru huffs in frustration, more for himself than for Satoru as he carefully pulls his hand away from under their palm until he's at last freed himself to remove the seal only to be stopped by another set of long slender fingers.
It aches.
"Leave it. I don't care."
"...Alright."
---
Despite his diligence, it eventually ends up scarring.
---
He tries to find a new apartment that's something similar to what he already has, somewhere convenient and most important of all, affordable, but with the economy being the way it is, even though he's not technically hurting for money, everything is just a touch more expensive than what he'd be comfortable paying for. He can technically rent but he doesn't like the idea of paying some monkey's mortgage so he'd rather just pay more for the satisfaction of being the sole property owner.
Suguru has other apartments but they act more as safehouses than they do an actual place to live and he knows he can just return to the temple and take his time doing property searches but he doesn't like the idea of leaving Satoru to his own devices, doesn't like the idea of leaving him alone even though he knows he's far from helpless even as a sorcerer with no access to his cursed energy.
He scowls as he pushes the corner of his phone between his brows, frustrated by himself and his current situation, wondering what tipped the Tokyo College off to his whereabouts when he'd dodged them for the last 11 years.
He sighs as he slips his phone away and goes to see what Satoru is up to even though he knows they haven't moved from that small window nook in probably hours. They're staring outside and picking at the edge of a sleeve, fingernails fraying the fabric away.
He breathes quietly and finally decides to ask from where he stands by the doorway, "What are you thinking about?"
A shrug, "Nothing important," he says, his voice unaffected.
"Tell me anyway."
The silence stretches for a while, Satoru's fingers never stopping as he rubs and pulls and scratches at the sleeve. It's an unusual habit he's picked up and Suguru wonders what brought it on, what prompted it, if it's a nervous tic or because he's got nothing better to do with his hands.
Eventually, Satoru speaks, "I think about what it'd be like if our roles switched. If I was the curse user and you're the teacher. You'd probably do a better job with those kids than I ever could."
He highly doubts that, highly doubts he'd be able to give them the opportunity or the protection that Gojo's name has afforded them but asks instead, slightly amused, "You'd put me in the position where I'd have to be the one to kill you instead?"
Satoru stills for a moment even as he tells him, "I'd let you."
Suguru doesn't know when they became fatalistic. Doesn't know if being in the prison realm brought this on or if the strain of being one of the only pillars of this crumbling society has finally gotten to them or if their messy parting of ways over a decade ago laid down the first crack in their facade.
He doesn't think he was wrong to leave but it's obvious now that Satoru isn't as unaffected as he thought they'd be which surprises him.
Satoru lets out a quiet breath, "Like I said; nothing important."
He works his jaw for a moment, caught off guard by their reticence and their reminiscing which doesn't match up with the teen he left behind over a decade ago, who'd never once allowed themselves to dwell in the past when they can forge on towards a future of their own making.
"You should think of happier things," Suguru tells him, aware he's being a hypocrite.
He huffs out a short laugh like it's a joke, "What's the point? Nothing's gonna change for us," Satoru murmurs softly as he goes back to picking at his sleeves, avoiding eye contact.
Suguru watches the other for a moment, wondering what happened to that bright boy he used to know, the one whom he shared laughs with, spent days under the sun with, whom he used to share such a deep connection with that the thought of forever seemed not a possibility but a guarantee. He was foolish then just as he is foolish now.
He sighs quietly, shaking his head as he turns to leave only for Satoru to catch him off guard with his next question, "Are you happy?"
He pauses by the threshold for a moment but can't find it in himself to be anything but honest as he tells him, "I am."
From the small glimpse that Suguru can see of his face, he catches the way Satoru's expression shutters and closes off, the way he swallows like he's trying to get rid of the lump in his throat.
"That's good," he murmurs quietly as the corners of his lips lift up the tiniest bit, a small broken-hearted smile.
Suguru works his jaw and tells himself he's allowed his own happiness and that he shouldn't feel guilty for taking it with whatever means he can. He has to fight harder for it now, his one arm doing the work of two but it owes it to Satoru to ask in return, "Do you think you'd be happy like this? As you are?"
He doesn't expect them to stay here permanently, doesn't expect this to be more than just a small reprieve, a short stopover before they find something else to do or decide they've somewhere else to be.
"It's better than before."
He huffs, skeptical, "You think being stuck inside this building, never leaving this apartment, is better than before?"
"I couldn't show how fucking lonely I was before," he says firmly. "Had to pretend that everything was fine and nothing was wrong and that I wasn't dying on the inside every damn day of my life."
"You were lonely?" He asks, surprised. While he'd never consider Satoru a true people-person, he'd also known they never really had a hard time finding people to have fun with, or poke fun at. They might occasionally be abrasive in nature but they very rarely had any ill feelings towards their other classmates.
"You of all people should know being surrounded by others doesn't automatically mean you’re in good company."
He frowns and wonders if he'd misjudged somehow, if his memories of their previous years were coloured by rose-tinted glasses. When Suguru thinks back on those days he still feels fond of them, even if they're sometimes a little bittersweet.
"At least this way I don't have to hide the fact that I'm lonely. I can just be," Satoru says softly, almost to himself.
He doesn't think he can do this. It was never supposed to be forever.
Chapter Text
He takes a moment to rest between meetings with monkeys, leaning against a wall to catch a quick breath, feeling mentally and physically drained and exhausted from the events that's happened recently. Okkotsu Yuuta continues to be an absolute beast with destroying curses and the boy's taken it upon himself to rally the other students together to join on his mission to deprive Suguru of adding them to his collection. It doesn't really matter much in the end since it allows him to let out some of his aggression and frustration by killing the monkeys who get too greedy and ask for too much from him to justify it.
He sighs as he rubs a hand against his temple and then shifts it to the middle of his brow, pushing down hard with his thumb as he takes in another deep breath and tries to stabilize himself before continuing on to meet Manami who’s waiting for him with another dumb monkey client.
"You look upset, Getou-sama," Mimiko says as she comes up behind him, looking pouty on his behalf. "Is it because the monkeys aren't doing their jobs right?"
He chuckles, feeling better from her presence. "Partly," he smiles and tries to reassure her with a pat on her head. "Don't worry about it. This Winter has been hard on me but it's nearly over."
Her gaze drops to his empty shoulder and he tries not to sigh at the way her face pinches up in distress, knowing that she still harbours guilt to this day over how he lost it even though it wasn't her fault.
"How do you guys feel about oden tonight?" He asks, changing the subject because he doesn't want to be honest about why he's upset, choosing instead to use the current season as his scapegoat.
She makes a face of disgust this time and Suguru praises himself for turning the conversation around. "I hate konnyaku."
"I'll eat it for you," he offers up.
"Nanako hates daikon."
"I'll eat that, too."
"Larue-chan hates kombu."
"I'm not eating that for him."
She giggles and they start putting together a list of things to get to make oden for dinner later, deciding the monkey can wait for him.
---
He comes back to the apartment with takeaway for dinner even though Satoru is more than capable of ordering something for himself but he's still thin, and he still won't eat unless it's something Suguru gets for him. When asked, Satoru tells him that ever since he figured out Reverse Cursed Technique he's been abusing it to take care of his bodily needs and he'd learned to stop needing to eat or sleep the same way other people would need food or rest. Even though he doesn't have that technique on the ready anymore he's gotten too used to depriving himself for the past decade to really go back on it.
("How are you not dead," Suguru had asked without really thinking about it and Satoru replied, "I ask myself that everyday.")
He sets the food down next to the laptop showing the bank details he'd set up for Satoru to use. They've got more foreign currency exchange accounts set up and seem to have a couple of short term investments on the go, too. There's a few notes that he can see of the start and end dates of certain accounts with their projected returns and Suguru can't help but feel a little impressed by their efficiency. It comes as no surprise that Satoru would be an overachiever in this, too.
Suguru finds them sitting up on the bed instead of the window nook, leaned up against the backboard with one leg tucked under the other, idly turning their phone in their hands like they've run out of things to keep them busy, blue eyes nearly hidden behind a curtain of black hair that's long enough to require cutting soon.
"You look bored," he comments as he watches them from the threshold of the bedroom.
"I'm always bored. It comes with being whatever I am. Whoever I used to be."
"You should tell me if there's something you want, or need." He's surprised Satoru hasn't gone stir-crazy from being stuck in this one place for so long. In his mind, it doesn't feel like this is any better than the prison realm but he doesn't exactly have any experience nor much knowledge on that place to draw from.
"I'll take whatever you'll give me. I'm not fussy."
"That's not the Sato--"
There's a sharp intake of breath, loose fingers closing tightly over the phone while the other clenches into a tight fist. Satoru's head dips low and hides his face completely as he mutters the word: "...Don't."
For the first time since he's been bringing food over, Satoru doesn't eat.
---
He supposes he should've seen it coming, after all he's still going back and forth from the apartment that Satoru is basically taking up permanent residence in but he's still surprised nonetheless when he turns into the street and finds himself face-to-face with nearly all of Satoru's students.
He sighs and asks them, "What do you want."
Okkotsu Yuuta looks pissed and conflicted, or maybe constipated, Suguru doesn't particularly care but he can't make himself move on until he knows the kids aren't here to forcefully take Satoru back to a place he doesn't currently want to return to.
At least they're out of sight of the apartment building so he doesn't have to deal with Satoru coming out with another knife to his throat.
He'd expected Okkotsu to be the one to speak but he's caught off guard when it's the assassin's boy who opens his mouth instead.
"How is he?"
He raises his eyebrows in mild surprise, "You're asking me?"
"Yes, I'm asking you," he snaps and his face reminds him so much of that man that he can't help the curl of hate and disgust growing in his gut at the sight of him.
He doesn't know what to tell them, if he should even tell them, that he found Satoru inside a box and how coming out of it made him different, how being trapped inside there changed him in ways Suguru doesn't think he can help with.
"He's not well," he settles for saying, knowing that it won't be enough but doesn't know what else he can say to encompass the depth of how utterly depressed Satoru is, how they'd fallen so far and been beaten down so much they don't have the strength to get back up anymore. "The responsibility of holding up the entire Jujutsu society on his shoulders has proven too much of a burden for him to keep carrying."
"I thought the whole point of him teaching us was so that we could share the burden."
"That was most likely his end goal."
"Then why did he leave us?" The pink-haired boy asks, looking devastated even as he tries to understand.
"You're a fool if you think it didn't kill him to drop everything."
The boy flinches as if struck and Suguru takes no pleasure from their pain but he owes it to them to be honest for having remained loyal for so long. "He can't teach if his students keep being sent off to die, or have already died, or lost limbs or their sanity. Or if he keeps losing friends and colleagues along the way. The elders would rather watch him crash and burn than raise a better, stronger, smarter generation."
"Then we'll kill them," says the monkey, although he thinks it's wrong to call her that now, not when she stands tall and strong and, most surprising of all, enlightened.
He laughs unkindly. "You think he hasn't considered it?"
"Why didn't he?" Okkotsu asks.
"He's a hopeless optimist. He'll always try to do the right thing first."
The boy drops his gaze, like he's thinking of a memory. "Yeah, he does."
Suguru thinks back on his own experiences at the school and wonders how nobody else has gone crazy from it all but he supposes that's where Satoru's influence had come in, where his guidance and presence made enough of a difference that none of his students would ever have to suffer what they'd gone through in their youth.
He draws in a long breath and lets it out slowly, trying to put his thoughts together. "They'd humour him at first, slacken the leash around his neck, give him some freedom and some leeway, and just when he thinks he's got everything under control, they'd yank him back into place and nothing will have changed. All of his efforts for nothing."
The pink-haired boy looks even more distressed and the others carry various looks of upset and unsettled but he doesn't stop there. The world is not kind, not even to children, especially to children.
"It gets to a person after a point. No matter what you do, no matter your good intentions, it doesn't amount to anything if the people in power don't want things to change."
He can hear the assassin's boy's teeth grinding and his jaw nearly aches in sympathy but he's all out of sympathy to give to those outside of his family.
"So no, he's not well, and I don't think he will be for a long time."
The kids are quiet for long enough that he thinks it's the end of the conversation and he wants to shoo them away from the apartment building and away from following him back to the temple. He doesn't doubt that they know where his base of operations is anymore but it won't stop him from remaining cautious still.
"We'll change it," Okkotsu says slowly and then builds momentum. "We'll pick up where he left off. We'll keep doing what he's doing. We won't let it be for nothing."
Suguru chuckles sardonically and wishes them well. "Good luck."
"Is that why you left?" The cursed one asks, his expression open and curious and reminds Suguru of someone far too innocent to belong in the Jujutsu world. The boy reminds him too much of Haibara and he makes himself keep eye contact even though everything in him is telling him to look away.
Still, he pauses and debates telling the truth but decides it won't make a difference if they know or not. He's not looking for someone to understand him, nor pity him, nor offer sympathies as he says, "Yes."
"Would you come back? If enough things change?" He asks, looking hopefully and Suguru can't help the face of distaste he makes that's almost mimicked by the assassin's boy and Okkotsu Yuuta at the question.
"No. I've done too much and come too far to go back," he tells them, even though he knows what he's doing isn't enough. It's a sunk cost fallacy but his pride has always been his biggest downfall. He doesn't doubt that it will get him killed one day. After all, it almost did.
"Then would you let him go? If he wanted to leave."
"Yes. It was never a question of if but when,” he tells them honestly.
The pink-haired boy nods, satisfied by his answers. "Alright. We'll leave him in your care then."
"That's a lot of trust to be given to a curse user."
"He trusts you, and we trust him."
He chuckles again and feels like he's seeing hints of Haibara in that boy. His endless optimism and congenial personality.
Suguru moves his way past them, knowing they won't try anything against him even with his back turned, knowing they'll respect Satoru's wishes to be left alone to heal and to try and pick up the pieces of his ragged soul. "He'd be proud of you. All of you."
"We're proud of him, too."
---
As he lies in bed that night safely ensconced away in his temple, he wonders what his future might hold. He's always been sure of the path he'd set himself upon since he left the college and he knew with certainty that he was walking to his death of his own making. He tells himself it's better this way, better than the marathon he was running before where he had to watch others hit the end sooner than expected and perish from it.
His shoulder aches and he wonders how different life would be if he had died at the Night Parade although he supposes it doesn't matter since he wouldn't be alive to witness anything past that moment. He tells himself he would've been fine to let go if it meant his family survived it, if it meant they can escape and start fresh somewhere else.
He's unsure now, of what it means to have Satoru returned to his life in this capacity, what it means for the Jujutsu society, what the higher-ups are going to do about him, if they even know that he has Satoru hidden away under lock and key. He's surprised he's not getting more flak about it and most of the children are all bark than bite anyway.
Suguru laughs and decides it's not a problem he needs to deal with for now; he can cross that bridge when he comes to it.
---
"You've got good kids on your side," he calls out as soon as he steps back into the apartment with breakfast in hand, setting it down on the table to go in search of the other.
"They're not my kids," Satoru says from inside the bedroom, his phone abandoned on top of the bedsheets while he sits in the morning sun like a cat.
"Oh? Could've fooled me."
He scowls, uncurling from the window nook and looking like he's one blink away from falling into a light doze. "Who did you talk to?"
"Practically all of them," he tells him and sees the way Satoru wakes up almost immediately, his mouth falling open and then immediately snapping shut.
"What?"
He hums.
His scowl returns, "What did they do?"
"Nothing. They just wanted to talk," Suguru shrugs as he rubs a hand along the underside of his jaw, trying to look unaffected as he scratches the skin there while his eyes take a brief wander around the room.
The sheets are messy but Satoru's never been the type to make his bed even when they were teens, especially when they were teens. The small glimpse that he can see into the bathroom looks surprisingly neat though, the countertops clear of everything they'd use to help disguise Satoru previously no longer in use, kept away in drawers and under the sink with only hand soap left behind in its usual spot.
"About what," he says after some time.
"You," Suguru tells him, cutting his gaze back to gauge his reaction and sees when a furious expression takes over.
"If they're still trying threatening you to let me go, you can tell them to fuck off; it's my choice to stay."
He doesn't chuckle and he doesn't say it's not Suguru's choice for him to remain but that's a topic for another day as he shrugs, "No, that's not what they came to talk to me about."
"No?" He probes, his mouth taking on a frustrated curl as they eye each other.
He regards Satoru for a moment, wondering how carefully he needs to pick his words but decides that he's never bothered to handle the other with kid gloves before and he's not particularly interested in starting now.
"They're going to try and pick up the pieces you left behind."
He snorts as he leans back on the window like he wants to get further away from that subject matter, "Good luck. It's not like I didn't try," he mutters unkindly as he sets his attention back to the outside world like he's done with the conversation but Suguru won't let him take the easy way out.
"Yes, but you were just one person."
He scoffs, nearly shaking with bitterness and frustration. "You think a bunch of kids have any real power? You and I both know how disillusioned we were at that age."
Suguru remembers how he thought they were invincible when they were younger, how confident they were with their combined strength, feeling on top of the world and unstoppable until one mission brought them to their knees and everything came crashing down. He stopped being a kid then, same as Satoru, and he knows it's the same for the students that got left behind.
"They're not kids anymore. They haven't been since you left," he says not unkindly and sees the way Satoru's eyes widen, a sudden stillness comes over him as silence stretches out between them.
Satoru sucks in a sharp breath like he's bracing for a hit. "Is it my fault, then? Is it always going to be my fault?"
"No," he says quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor as he thinks back to that day in Shinjuku, the sudden fork in the road that took them down separate paths. "Sometimes it's our place in life to fall so that others may rise."
"I didn't--" He chokes, shoulders shaking as if weighed down by too many things. "Why does it have to be one or the other? Why do sacrifices need to keep being made? Why couldn't we just stay as we are? Why do I have to keep losing you?"
He sighs, "Satoru..."
"Fuck..." he hisses as he buries his head in his hands, his palms pushing into his eyes while his fingers grip tightly into his lengthening hair. "Just--just put me back in that box. I hate it out here."
Suguru shakes his head as he stares down the pitiful image the man in front of him makes. "I'm sorry, but you don't get to have that luxury."
Satoru laughs but it's a broken noise.
---
"That Okkotsu Yuuta is planning something," Toshihisa says by way of greeting as soon as he finds Suguru after he'd dealt with a monkey who finally grew some balls to demand for his troubles to go away and was smart enough to do that while shoving a fat cheque into Suguru's face.
The memory brings a smile to his face, the cheque in his pocket waiting to be cashed in. "Oh? What makes you think that?"
Toshihisa falls into stride beside him as they traverse the temple towards the woman waiting in another meeting room who was finally desperate enough to come back to beg for help, this time with money to back it up. "Well for one, he's suddenly fallen off the grid after being all up in our faces for the past few weeks."
He laughs, feeling mollified over the thought of getting two big cheques today despite the news of potential trouble waiting in the wings, "You might be onto something."
Toshihisa lets out a thoughtful hum as he eyes Suguru. "Do you have any guesses?"
"Plenty but we best keep a finger on the pulse. The Jujutsu society has always been a fickle bunch; it might turn out to be nothing but hot air," he says with a careless shrug as he stops in front of the closed door where he knows Manami and the lady with the scorned lovers is waiting for them.
He sighs, looking troubled despite Suguru's happy mood. "It's going to be big, isn't it?"
He chuckles again, darkly amused. "Okkotsu Yuuta is not known for doing anything in half-measures."
"Should we set up a meeting together with the others to discuss it?"
Suguru waves it off. "Not yet. It's too early to make any definitive plans. We carry on as we are and if anything changes that threatens our stability by even the smallest bit then we'll gather the family to talk it over."
He shrugs, looking unbothered now that Suguru has assuaged his worries. "Alright, if you say so."
"Also, can you cash this in for us," he requests as he hands over a piece of paper to Toshihisa who unfolds it and immediately boggles at the amount written down. The face he makes is almost enough to get another laugh out of him and he feels nearly charitable as he opens the door to greet the Manami and the monkey woman.
Almost but not quite.
---
He sends his curses out to be his eyes and ears but he still misses it when it happens, when the impossible actually becomes possible and the old pillars holding up the Jujutsu world start to crumble to pieces, building a new ruling from its ashes. He laughs when he hears about the chaos happening within the old clans, the ones clamouring to find any stable ground left for which to stand on.
The Zen'ins have all but disappeared into the shadows and the Gojo's don't have their trump card anymore either, no one left to champion their cause. Not even the Kamo's have escaped unscathed but they're the least affected compared to the decimation the other clans have faced.
He feels the ripples all the way to the temple and his steps nearly wobble beneath him as he goes home to Satoru to deliver the news.
---
The breakfast that he left for Satoru earlier doesn't get eaten but he supposes it won't be his problem soon enough. Suguru finds him leaning against the window, eyes closed like he's asleep but the way his fingers are picking at the frayed hem of his sweater tells him otherwise. He decides to keep looking his fill knowing it won't last for much longer.
After several minutes, blue eyes open up to blink sleepily at him and Suguru decides he can't quite bear to tell him after all. Telling Satoru about what happened in his apartment won't afford him the clean break he needs.
"Come with me." Suguru tells him as he nudges his head towards the door, watching as Satoru perks up in curiosity and slowly gets off the makeshift window nook for what may be the final time.
"Do I need to dye my hair and wear contacts?" He asks as he runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it to meld some of the black with the white strands. It's much longer than it was when he first arrived but he's still as thin as he was back then, barely putting on any pounds despite Suguru's vigilance about keeping him fed.
He shakes his head and sees Satoru pull off the sweater for more appropriate streetwear and Suguru can see the faded muscle, far too lean. "No, just a hat and glasses will be enough."
"Sure," he says as he finishes off with a hat and slips on a few wristbands, enough to cover the seals before covering up his face with a mask. "Ready when you are."
He opens the door and leads Satoru out, taking a few roundabout paths to the destination he has in his mind, a fitting place for their next parting of ways. He knows when Satoru's figured it out when he stops several feet behind him and refuses to take another step further.
"Why did you bring me here?" He demands, a slight tremble in his voice that wouldn't be noticeable if it were anybody else.
He shrugs. "Because it feels poetic."
"What...do you mean?" He asks, clenching his hands into tight fists, looking like he's one step from running away.
Suguru lets out a steady breath as he closes the distance between them and reaches for a closed fist, telling himself it's the last time, letting himself feel the warmth of his fingers, the way his palm encompasses the back of his hand and pushes his thumb under the wristband to feel the pulse of his heart that beats strongly even through the paper seal.
"What are you doing?" Satoru whispers, a quiet trembling sound and Suguru lets himself look his fill one more time before he closes his eyes and feeds his cursed energy into the talisman.
"I release you," he murmurs softly as he squeezes the wrist in his hand and feels the moment when all of their power fades and crumbles away to dust, even the ones he can't see, leaving only flecks behind.
"What? Why?" Satoru says, yanking his hand away from Suguru as if it would undo what's already been done, panicking as his cursed energy surges around them and he fights to tamp it down once more.
He lets himself breathe in the moment before turning to walk away from Satoru for the second time in over a decade. He hears a sharp inhalation behind him and a hushed voice brimming with heartbreak and betrayal.
"I have to watch you walk away from me again?"
Suguru stops and speaks to the man over his shoulder but doesn't dare let himself look. "The truth is, you remind me too much of who I used to be and I hate that version of me."
"I--I can change."
He chuckles and gives a small shake of his head. "I don't want you to, even if you could. You're Satoru. You'll always be Satoru for me, with all your power and strength, your loneliness and brilliance and unbelievable beauty."
He tells himself not to look even when he can hear the quiet gasp behind him.
Suguru laughs but feels no joy from it as he turns his eyes to the sky that still fails to measure up to the blue of Satoru's eyes. "Being with you makes me want too much, and I can't go back to being the Suguru who'd come to you at the drop of a hat. I've got too much to lose and if I keep you, I will be lost."
The noise of the crowd filters in from around them, the sound of cars, trains, murmured conversations. There’s the smell of exhaust, freshly made food, the stench of curses and monkeys and it’s nostalgic just as much as it’s nauseating.
"...Sometimes it's our place in life to fall so that others may rise," he murmurs quietly, a repeat of the words Suguru spoke yesterday and he’s glad that maybe Satoru understands afterall.
"Yes."
"If it had to be one of us, it should've been me."
"I made that choice for you, it's not your fault," he says as he looks away from the sky and reminds himself that there's no going back for someone like him, not with the things he's done and not with what he hopes for his perfect world.
"Suguru."
He chuckles, feeling weirdly honoured, "That's the first time you've said my name since you started staying with me."
"Names have power, and I didn't want you to feel beholden to me."
"Then my apologies, for speaking your name so freely."
"I wanted you to. I wanted you to have that power over me. I want you to know that I'm yours to keep."
He shakes his head to himself, wondering how it's possible for someone to still keep holding on to who he used to be even after all these years, though he guesses the same could be said for him and how he continues to feel for Satoru. He hates it, hates how it still controls him to this day even over a decade later, continues to be the hardest choice and the biggest regret but he won't change any of it. He can't .
"You're not mine to keep. Never have been. You've always belonged to the world. That's why I named you Sora, because you are the neverending sky that surrounds me - untouchable, unreachable, limitless and infinity."
"What about what I want?"
"What you want is not an option," he tells him sternly, giving no room for negotiations, will brook no argument. He's made his choice and he wills for Satoru to come to terms with it.
"...I hate you," he chokes out and Suguru savours the heartbreak, tells himself that this is right, tells himself this is the clean break he needs. The ache in his shoulder can never compare to the pain he holds in his heart.
"You should."
He keeps his gaze ahead of him and takes the step that will carry him down his own path, the one that he's been painstakingly paving for the past decade, one stubborn brick at a time, built upon the dead bodies of monkeys so that people like him and people like Mimiko and Nanako and his family never have to suffer ever again. It's a righteous path and he knows very few people would ever agree with him but that simply makes it easier for him to figure out where to place his trust and allegiance.
"Goodbye, Satoru. Take care of yourself."
"...Fuck you."
He chuckles as he walks away and it's just as easy to leave the second time as he did the first, except he feels the cracks in his heart grow bigger and deeper with every step he continues to take knowing that there can be no going back, not for the likes of him.
---
Things, weirdly enough, return to normal as if Satoru didn't spend months living in his apartment, sleeping in his bed, sitting by his window, leaving little imprints in the little spaces he'd carved for himself within that place. Suguru hasn't stepped foot back in that apartment since he walked away from Satoru over a week ago and he hasn't bothered to send out some of his curses to check in on him, nor on what the college has been up to, telling himself he'll cross that bridge if something ever comes of it.
Nothing does.
Manami sets up a meeting one late afternoon when Suguru's done with his usual duties for the day and he can see how both Mimiko and Nanako look a little bit tense with worry and anxiety, their eyes constantly trying to catch his as he continues to speak to Toshihisa about the itinerary for tomorrow. There was supposed to be a rich returning client set for the next day but they've outright cancelled it with no prior warning and it doesn't really take Suguru much to figure out why. It's annoying but ultimately doesn't really matter much to him since he has his own following and the temple is stable enough as is.
Larue eventually pokes him to get his attention and he turns to him for a moment to see him gesture towards the girls, giving them a small wave before nudging his head towards Manami who's finally ready to speak.
"There's a couple of things I'm going to address today and one of them revolves around Gojo Satoru who has returned from wherever he disappeared off to for the past year or so."
Nanako groans in dismay. "Why now? I was starting to get used to not hearing about him."
Manami shrugs. "Who knows? In any case, he's not even the biggest item of things to bring up."
"There's news bigger than the return of the strongest sorcerer ever?" Mimiko asks, a mixture of worry and skepticism on her face as she looks at them.
"I'm sure everyone here knows of the Top 3 Jujutsu clans."
"The Gojo's, Zen'in's and Kamo's," Nanako lists off as if this was a pop quiz.
"What about them?" Mimiko tacks on right after her sister.
"The Kamo clan heir has been disowned, the Zen'in clan has been destroyed and Gojo Satoru renounced all ties with his clan."
The silence that overtakes the entire room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Almost all at once, the girls and Larue start speaking over each other trying to find out more about what's been happening in the outer world.
"You dropped way too many bombs on us! What the hell!"
"Explain what you mean when you say the Zen'in's got destroyed."
"Does that mean both the Gojo's and Kamo's lost their clan heads?"
Manami sighs tiredly and Suguru almost sympathizes with her but doesn't bother to take over the meeting she'd convened herself.
"Well maybe if you would all just sit and listen I can tell you what I've found out so far."
The girls obediently snap their mouths shut while Larue harrumphs as he crosses his arms over his chest and actually pouts. Suguru snickers and willfully ignores the narrow-eyed look sent his way.
Manami goes into as much detail as her sources have told her, spending several minutes going over what's happened within each clan that she's been able to glean thus far, explaining what's happened within the last couple of months that turned the Top 3 into the Top 2 with none of them having viable future clan heads. The Jujutsu society has turned itself inside-out and upside-down with its rotten politics and horrendous over abuse of power and blatant nepotism, getting their just desserts, but that's not even the biggest news delivered so far.
Just when most of them are starting to wrap their heads around the announcement regarding the clan, Manami saves the messiest one for last; the deaths of the higher-ups by the hands of the Tokyo college students and the dissolution of the Jujutsu headquarters.
It's quiet for nearly a minute until even Toshihisa joins in on the exclamation of that particular bit of information.
---
Dinner around the temple that night is particularly rambunctious with several conversations going at once as people talk over each other to speculate their own events of what happened and how it went. Nanako thinks Gojo Satoru secretly eloped with some woman and decided to quit his job as a sorcerer to live a domestic life instead. Suguru snorts, which catches Nanako's attention and her narrow-eyed glare.
"What do you think happened then?"
"I think he got tired and decided to become a hermit," he says, skirting a little too close to the truth.
She makes a face at him. "Ugh, that's so boring. My story sounds way better," she declares as she turns to Larue to dare him to make up a better story over what happened who then concocts a story about how Gojo Satoru was captured and locked away in a tower--
"Like a medieval castle?" Mimiko cuts in curiously.
"Like Japanese style castle or like European style castle?"
"Any castle you wanna think of," Larue says and then continues on about how Gojo Satoru was stripped of his cursed energy and how only his true love would be able to help him from his predicament--
"I find it hard to believe Gojo could love anybody but himself. He's a narcissist," Nanako butts in while Mimiko nods in agreement.
"This is my story and I'm telling it like I wanna tell it."
The girls giggle but listen anyway, occasionally chipping in with questions or observations, making little jokes and laughing about it all.
It's a fun atmosphere and it makes Suguru happy but it doesn't stop him from wondering what Satoru is doing now, if he's back to how he was before or if he's cut ties completely with the rest of the Jujutsu world and not just from his own clan.
He doesn't quite manage to hide his reticence well enough when Mimiko tugs gently on his sleeve while Nanako and Larue are now arguing over the semantics of actual real true love when applied to a person who holds the title of the World's Strongest Sorcerer.
“Are you sad that they found Gojo Satoru again?” Mimiko asks and he can’t help the sudden bark of laughter escape from his throat that catches almost everybody at the table off guard.
“No, not because of that.”
“But you are sad,” Nanako accuses him, honing in on his words, happy to leave the debate with Larue behind who immediately starts talking to Toshihisa and Manami about what they think actually happened.
“Mostly, I’m just tired,” he sighs. It’s been bitterly cold and his shoulder aches something vicious. His heart aches too, but it’s a hurt that he’s learned to carry well, a constant friend like the churn in his gut.
“Let’s go get zaru soba for dinner tomorrow!” Nanako suggests, trying to get him excited at the prospect of his favourite food.
“Something warm would be better, wouldn’t it?” Mimiko hums in question. “It’s been so cold these days.”
“Yeah. The heating at the temple sucks.”
“There’s no heating at the temple.”
“Exactly!”
He chuckles, happy for the presence of his two girls.
---
“What happened to that personal project of yours?” Manami asks one day in between appointments and it’s then he realizes he’s barely left the temple for nearly two weeks now since he let Satoru go. He supposes he shouldn’t be shocked that someone noticed he’s around more often than he has these days, especially considering the last few months.
Suguru keeps the surprise from showing on his face as he hums under his breath, eyes fixated on the numbers and trying to keep his focus on the report even though he’s skimmed through the entire paragraph fully and hasn’t absorbed any of it into his mind. “It fell through,” he answers noncommittally, wanting to move on from the subject, wanting to stop thinking about Satoru and what he’s doing now that the Jujutsu world has reformed itself.
“That’s a shame,” she tells him, not sounding particularly concerned but he can tell when she’s trying to carefully modulate her tone. “Maybe we could’ve helped increase the chances of success for you.”
“Impossible,” he says as he switches off his phone, unable to concentrate on it as he turns his full attention to her. “The project was a practice in futility from the start. I already knew that going in and I didn’t see the point in involving more people if it was only going to be a waste of time.”
She hums, eyeing him carefully before she lets out a soft, quiet sigh.
“If there’s one thing I know about you in the near decade since I’ve met you, it’s that you’re not the type of person to invest yourself in something that wouldn’t yield you some form of results. It never matters to you if the results are good or bad as long as there is meaning to be found.”
He blinks in surprise at her, unable to hide it this time as she smiles softly at him.
“Now the question to ask yourself is: did you find meaning in doing it after all?”
He can’t answer her even though he knows what it would be in his heart.
---
With Winter almost coming to an end and when he finally makes his way back to the apartment after nearly three weeks, a part of him had almost expected Satoru to be waiting for him inside, like he broke his way in to situate himself back in his window nook. Nobody is present when he opens the door and there's a thin layer of dust that tells him enough that nobody's been living here for a good while now.
Suguru thinks about hiring someone to clean the apartment and scrub out anything that might remind him of Satoru's long stay here but doesn't relish the thought of a monkey roaming through his space and spreading their stench around the place so he settles to doing it all himself the slow way.
He gets the windows all open, painstakingly strips the bedding of all its sheets and shoves as much of it to make up a full load into the washing machine and sets it to run a complete cycle. He dusts and vacuums and cleans out the fridge of any perishables because he doesn't intend to come back to this place for a decent while at least.
He finds strands of black and white hair in the bathroom sink and shower drain, discarded bottles of hair dye in the bin, the containers holding the contact lenses in the drawer next to the hair clippers and scissors.
Suguru throws out the contact lenses, cleans up and wipes down the entire bathroom and does his damn best to erase any sign of Satoru having made this space into his own.
When he goes to move the low dresser from its place next to the window he ends up hesitating.
The windows are open, the small bit of wind coming through and fluttering the sheer curtains. It's a decent view although that hadn't been the highest perk of why he bought this place. It's a north facing room too, which meant it always got a fair amount of daylight and warmth during the day, making it into a cozy space.
Without letting himself think too deeply on it, he sits down on the opposite side of the window nook, one leg tucked underneath him as he eyes the world outside, a closed parenthesis to Satoru's.
He sits there until the sound of the washing machine calls for his attention.
In the end, Suguru sits there for a while longer, wondering what Satoru was looking for every time he looked to the outside world.
---
It's late by the time he's done with cleaning the apartment, the sun has almost disappeared beyond Tokyo city. He makes sure all the windows are shut and curtains are drawn, everything put back to how it was before Satoru's stay here save for that makeshift window nook that Suguru decides to leave as is - a small memory to remember him by.
He stands by the window for a moment with a hand to the heavy drapes just looking at the orange,red, purple and deep blue overtaking the sky. He can't see the sun dipping over the horizon from here, not quite, but he can tell that it's nearly gone from the sky from how long the shadows are.
Suguru lets go as he makes to leave, opening to door and stopping at the sight of Satoru standing right in front of him, his hair cut short enough to get rid of any trace of black dye that used to colour his locks, the high collar not quite enough to hide the long, pale scar there and his eyes bluer than any sky he's seen.
"What brings you to my apartment?" He says conversationally and wonders how long Satoru's been standing outside just waiting for him to leave, whether it's been seconds or minutes or hours just listening to the noise of Suguru puttering around cleaning up after him.
"They said I could go, if I wanted to. And I did, so I left and now I'm here."
"You shouldn't be here," he tells him as he makes to move past Satoru to close the door shut behind him but all it takes is one step for the white-haired man to fill in the entire door, preventing Suguru from getting past him.
"It’s nice; those oldbags are dead and Jujutsu society isn't just governed now by decrepit old people and everybody gets to weigh in their thoughts and it's basically a democracy and I love it."
"That's good," he says slowly, not quite sure what Satoru is trying to tell him, "But that doesn't explain why you're here."
"It’s nice, but it’s not everything I want."
He huffs, trying not to let his frustration come through. "We can't have everything we want in life. Don't be greedy."
"Why not? Why does it always have to boil down to something being sacrificed for the other? Why can't it become a compromise instead?"
He scoffs, his hand tightening on the door handle that he's suddenly all too tempted to slam into Satoru's face. "You want me to compromise on my ideals? That's being selfish."
"No, you don't have to do that, but I'm saying I'm willing to compromise on mine."
"You never did learn when to walk away," he mutters lowly and sees when blue eyes sharpen as they look at him.
"They said I can still teach if I want to. They said I can still do missions if I want to."
"And?" He raises his eyebrow in question. "Doesn't sound like much has changed for you then."
He keeps talking like he wasn't interrupted. "They said I don’t have to do anything if I don’t want to. They said I can leave if I want to.”
He hums, not quite sure where Satoru is going with this.
“They said..." he hesitates for the first time since standing here in front of the apartment door waiting for Suguru to come out. "They said I can stay with you if I want to, and it wouldn't mean anything to them as long as I'm happy."
He laughs as he finally gives up and bodily pushes Satoru out of the doorway so he can get the door closed behind him. "You're deluded if you think you can stay with me, that I'd let you."
"Then hate me," he growls as he slams a hand out to the wall, stopping Suguru from getting any further.
"What?"
"Say you hate me."
He frowns at Satoru, at the arm blocking him in, returning his glare at the man who simply won't move out of his damn way.
“What’re--”
"Say you hate me and mean it and I'll leave and you'll never have to hear from me again."
He snorts derisively, "Me walking away from you not once but twice isn't enough to give you that idea? Get the fuck away from the door, Satoru."
“ Say it .”
He grits his teeth and thinks childishly of stomping his zori sandals on top of Satoru's foot and digging his heels in even as he makes himself say those words. "...I hate you."
" Mean it ."
"I hate you," he tells him, firmer, tightening his grip on the door so hard he feels like he's one wrong move away from breaking it. "I hate you."
"I don’t believe you."
"I hate you!" He shouts as he pushes Satoru away hard, stupidly losing his balance because he hadn't expected the other to give into the shove so easily, falling to his knees with a hand on the floor as he screams, " I hate you !"
It feels like his voice echoes around the empty hallway and he knows with certainty that the monkeys who share this floor with him will have heard him with how loud they're being. He feels embarrassed and angry and thinks about going back inside and slamming the door shut and leaving Satoru outside.
"...You're a damn liar, Suguru,” he says softly as he gets on his knees in front of him.
He hates how he's fighting the tears and fighting his own stupid heart as he curls his fingers into a fist, ready to throw a punch to hide how badly he's lost control of the situation and of himself.
“You told me before that I should tell you if there’s anything I want or need.”
He draws in a sharp breath and immediately lets it back out as he speaks lowly, feeling like he's run out of energy. “You said you’ll take whatever I give you.”
“Yes. Whatever you’ll give me. I’m not fussy.”
He huffs. “Yes, you are.”
“Not with you.”
Suguru tries to make himself take deep even breaths, tries to gather up the pieces that make up who he is and recompose himself, tries not to shake from the pain in his shoulder beating in time with the pain in his chest. He hates this feeling and he thought he'd cauterized it out of him years ago, over a decade ago, but it's gone and healed enough to start hurting again in earnest without him realizing.
“You never tell me to leave," Satoru says softly, his words for Suguru's ears only. "You’ve always been the one to walk away and one of my biggest regrets was that I never tried to go after you.”
“I wouldn’t have let you.”
“No, but you can’t stop me from keeping an eye on you. If watching you from afar is all I’m allowed then so be it.”
“Shut up,” he hisses and sees the way Satoru's body stills imperceptibly at his tone. He swallows the lump in his throat as he follows it up with: “The lovesick fool look doesn’t suit you.”
“Suguru.”
Satoru was right, names have power.
He watches as Satoru offers him his wrists, a near direct copy of the time when Suguru asked him to hold his arms out for him all those months ago. “Won’t you keep me?”
“You’re not something to be kept,” he says even as he holds both of Satoru’s wrists within the reach of his fingers, feeling his rapid pulse under the skin of his palm.
“ Please , Suguru.”
“But I wouldn’t mind having you around. So long as you don’t mind my dirty work,” he says as he finally looks into blue eyes that the skies can't even hope to win against.
He lets out a surprised laugh, like he hadn't expected it to work at all but looks grateful that it did. “Never said I was a saint,” he murmurs as he rests his forehead along Suguru's and simply breathes.
Suguru closes his eyes and lets himself have this.
He called Satoru selfish but really, of the two of them, Suguru is the worst and he's self-aware enough to know Satoru is his biggest downfall.
But he doesn’t mind it.
Notes:
Thanks for joining me on this ride! I hope y'all enjoyed it~ I did my best with the tags and grammar and such. I don't have a beta reader and I usually end up taking a lot of time checking through everything to make sure it reads well but let me know if I've missed anything.
See you all in the next story hopefully! Toodles!
Moondrako on Chapter 1 Fri 08 Nov 2024 06:24PM UTC
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Consumer (Straggler) on Chapter 3 Sun 26 Jan 2025 07:55AM UTC
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