Chapter Text
Unexpectedly, Suguru finds himself holding a phone that’s blaring with loud beeps. He had no reason to contact this person, yet here he is, waiting for an answer.
— I never thought you’d be the one to call me! — Shoko’s voice on the other end is as usual. It’s somewhat reassuring, but at the same time, it stirs the desire to visit the technical school again.
— Honestly, I thought you wouldn't pick up, — the sound coming through the speakers is a bit distorted, yet Suguru thinks he hears the click of a lighter. Well, he wasn't any better, just like his conversation partner, holding a cigarette in his hand.
— Oh, I could have. You know, lately there's been so much work, and someone bailed and left all of it to us.
Suguru frowns. There's a temptation to respond that he’s actually dealing with the same thing, but he swallows his words. It’s not necessary right now.
— So, what happened? I don’t think you’re calling just because you missed me. Especially me.
Shoko still reads him like an open book. It's amusing how, even though they understood each other with just a few words, they still ended up being separated.
Saying anything about a possible pregnancy out loud feels like a loss, a confession of what Suguru feared. His feelings, of course, couldn’t be fooled, but his mind continued to resist.
— Yeah, something happened, — a long pause. The right words just won’t come to mind, — I think… maybe the Gojo clan is going to have an heir soon, — Suguru says this quickly and awkwardly, hoping that Ieiri heard it all the first time.
In response, there is only silence, and all Suguru can do is breathe in the cold air mixed with cigarette smoke.
— Seriously?! And why are you telling me this? You should be telling your father, you know!
— I… I’m still not sure, — thoughts of calling Satoru were dismissed immediately; Suguru was afraid he wouldn’t be able to handle that conversation.
— Am I your gynecologist now? I’m not the one to tell you how to check. Holy Tengen! You’re even more of a hassle now than when you were here.
Suguru falls silent. What did he even expect? He knew exactly what needed to be done. Whether he hoped Shoko would, like last time, call Satoru, he wasn’t sure.
— So, what do you want? I can’t exactly determine pregnancy by voice yet.
— Ah, I’ll send you the address, — is Ieiri trustworthy enough for this? Right now, that question barely concerned Suguru, just like the fact that he’d probably have to move again afterward. — Anyway, you don’t have to do anything. I just… I guess I really just wanted to talk.
Talk to someone who could slap him across the face. Talk to someone who wasn’t just a person dressed in a white coat, blindly believing every word he said.
— Yeah, yeah, sure, I’ll try to find time in my busy schedule for you. Try not to keel over by then.
— Don’t get sick, — Suguru doesn’t finish the sentence when the soft beeps of the line cut him off.
On autopilot, he enters the address, sends the message, and returns to his apartment. Why did he even do this? For Suguru, it would have been much easier to go to the nearest pharmacy or even the hospital. There was no reason to get involved with the technical school again, especially when there were people hunting him down there, while ordinary people around him had no idea about his plan. Not people, monkeys — a mental correction. And yet, he trusted Shoko. He trusted that she wouldn’t sell him out, wouldn’t bring the executioner with her. More than anything, he hoped she wouldn’t tell Gojo. Suguru could barely imagine meeting him right now, and honestly, he didn’t really want to either.
***
Ieiri didn’t make him wait long, showing up at the doorstep of his unfamiliar apartment the very next day. With some surprise, she tried to make out the sisters hiding behind Suguru, but apparently, they didn’t spark much interest in her.
— So, is this because of them…? — Shoko doesn’t finish, and Suguru doesn’t need to hear the rest.
Became a criminal, taking the lives of every person in that village.
Suguru nods in response and gestures for the guest to come in, closing the door behind her.
By the time he finishes fiddling with the locks, Shoko seems to have already inspected the new home of her former comrade.
— It’s still better than our dorm, haha, — she peeks into the kitchen and steps out onto a small balcony, — I bet there’s no smoking ban here, right? Though, in your situation, I’d recommend you quit.
Geto doesn’t respond, only handing Shoko a lighter. She accepts it gratefully, and within moments, a cigarette appears in her hand. They stand in silence for a few minutes, watching the street below.
— You know, Gojo won’t stop talking my ear off about you. And honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this down. Nanami’s also having a hard time; while the first-years aren’t ready for missions, too much falls on his shoulders.
— I’m sorry, — Suguru can’t say anything else. At least, Kento is still alive, — Thanks for looking out for them.
— Well, what can I do? — Shoko chuckles bitterly. She puts out her cigarette and leaves it in the ashtray on the wide railing, — So, shall we go?
Geto leads his guest to his room, trying to ignore the concerned looks from the girls. He sits down on his futon without a word, waiting for Ieiri to sit next to him.
— You’d better lie down; it’ll be more comfortable for me, — she waits for her request to be acknowledged, and once she gets a silent consent, she lifts his T-shirt slightly. Her thin fingers trace his stomach as she closes her eyes. Geto feels her cursed energy seeping into him, exploring his organs, mixing with his blood. He would’ve liked to learn the reverse cursed technique himself, but that was something only geniuses could do, and he was not one of them.
The touch makes him feel ticklish, and Suguru struggles to hold back a spasmodic sigh. Satoru loved studying his body, drawing out paths only he understood with his fingers and lips, sifting through the black silk of his hair, pulling him close in an attempt to hold on. And yet, he always let go. He believed that Geto would choose what was best for him. It’s funny, because Geto wouldn’t have minded if Satoru had kept him close despite everything. Who knows what he would have done then, discovering the sisters locked in a cage, considered less than human.
— Well, — Shoko finally removes her hands and leans back on the floor, — I don’t know if this will make you happy or not, but you were right. The Gojo clan will indeed have an heir soon. Do with this information as you wish; I suppose it’s no longer my concern.
So, he’s going to have a child. Not just any child, but Satoru Gojo’s child. Suguru doesn’t know whether to cry or laugh. They hadn’t planned for a pregnancy, and certainly not in this situation. The words spin in his head but refuse to form into coherent thoughts. Geto feels nausea creeping back, but he does nothing, continuing to stare blankly at one spot, trying to steady his breathing. What should he do now?
— I might be wrong, after all, this isn’t really my field, — Ieiri emphasizes the last word, — but I’d say you’re about 14 weeks along.
More than three months Suguru has been carrying this child, and only now does he find out. Fate has played a cruel joke on him, and he has no thoughts of the future.
Seeing no reaction from him, Shoko stands up and brushes off her skirt. Geto still doesn’t respond to her actions, so she slowly walks out of the room, throwing over her shoulder:
— Tell Gojo yourself!
Ieiri winks playfully at Nanako and Mimiko, who meet her in the hallway, and without any hesitation, leaves the apartment. Suguru doesn’t snap out of it until he hears the front door slam. Without knowing why, he rushes after his friend only to meet his lost gaze with eyes like the blue of heaven on the threshold.
Suguru’s in deep now.