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Megumi hasn't even entered Jujutsu Tech yet when he manages to find his very own freak case.
“Save him,” he asks, half-covered in blood.
His gaze is dark and steadfast. In Gojo’s arms, Sukuna’s vessel is sleeping soundly. He’s surprisingly heavy; his built is quite muscled for a middle schooler’s.
“Well, if it’s a precious student’s wish...” Gojo concedes cheerfully.
***
Yuta and Yuji get along well. The former has zero idea of how to deal with such a happy-go-lucky ray of sunshine while the second keeps throwing boundless friendliness his way – and, to be fair, everyone’s way. He’s too young to be a student for now, but he doesn’t have the right to leave the school premise so he makes for an excellent mascot.
Suguru’s eyes light up when he sees him, but he only focuses on Yuta. Sukuna’s vessel is useless to him, after all; he can’t control that curse. Gojo knows how he works. Even after all these years, he recognizes the man under the grinning mask.
Suguru’s departure leaves the school in a panic. Yuta, Yuji and Maki have to stay behind: the first two are too much of a target while the last is still officially a fourth grade – plus, Suguru might attack her directly; a Zenin with the same binding as Toji is just too strong an echo of the past.
Gojo realizes too late what Suguru really intended.
He has to send Toge and Panda as sacrifices. No choice – Suguru won’t kill them. He’ll avoid murdering shamans if he can, especially young shamans. He’ll hurt them badly, though, and that’ll help Yuta hold on until Gojo arrives –
When Gojo finally does arrive, Geto isn’t there anymore.
“He… He left after knocking Itadori out…” Yuta explains, perplexed. “Itadori’s fine... He’s resting with the others.”
It makes zero sense. Yaga goes into full paranoiac mode while Gojo pretends he doesn’t, which is a bare-faced lie.
A few days later, Suguru phones him.
“You haven’t changed your number, huh?”
You might have called me, Gojo doesn’t answer.
“You didn’t either. What do you want?” He asks instead.
“Itadori Yuji is my son.”
What the fuck.
***
Gojo almost hangs up. He doesn’t for reasons he wouldn’t voice to anyone even Shoko, though she probably figured it out anyway.
“Itadori Yuji is my son,” Suguru repeats. “I didn’t know about his existence, but when I saw him, I realized.”
He sounds serious. He can’t be serious. Gojo does a quick calculation.
“He’s fifteen! You’d have been twelve or something!”
“I’m well aware, yes. I didn’t know… I was a teenager –”
“You were twelve years old!”
“Just listen to me, Satoru! He’s actually younger than he seems. It was just before I joined the school – she was older, interested in cursed energy manipulation and – well. Things happened. I wasn't aware she was pregnant, but she just disappeared one or two weeks after we’d meet.”
“How do you know –”
“She’d found a way to hurry the growth of small animals. Why not a child? Satoru, he looks just like her and just like my mother.”
There’s the shadow of a pause before “my mother”. Gojo doesn’t have the words to answer him because this is still nonsense, yet it touches on Suguru’s family history; no matter how much Suguru has changed, or enjoys playing the villain, he wouldn’t joke or lie about his parents. Gojo just knows he wouldn’t.
“What was her name?” He asks flatly.
Suguru gives him one. Gojo writes it down so he won’t forget it or, rather, so he’ll be reminded once he inevitably forgets.
“And what would you like me to do? You mutilated half of my students.”
“Which you sent so I’d do them in and trigger Okkotsu’s explosion.”
Even years later, Suguru still knows him too well.
“Just because I was sure you would doesn’t mean I’m happy you did.”
“I want to see my son.”
“You want? You’re one of the greatest criminals of the Jujutsu world and you’re going to make demands?”
“No, I’m making a statement,” Suguru retorts flatly. “I want to see him. If he doesn’t wish to, I’ll accept it. If he does, though, call me back.”
“Are you serious?”
“Very serious.”
He’s telling the truth, isn’t he? Or at least he thinks that he does.
Gojo’s first emotion at the realization is sheer white-knuckled jealousy.
Suguru always makes him painfully out of character by his own standards.
***
The sorcerer that Geto named is dead. Well, that sure is convenient, isn't it?
“Say, Yuji,” Gojo asks in a singsong voice, “how were your parents?”
“I don’t know,” Yuji answers, focused on the meatballs he’s cooking. “As far as I can really remember, it was just my grandfather and me.”
Fuck.
***
“Shoko.”
“Gojo.”
“You’re a doctor.”
“And you’re the strongest shaman of our generation.”
“Amazing. I didn’t know.”
“Yeah, we all kept it from you so you wouldn’t turn cocky.”
“It must be so hard to live with that failure.”
They steer sharply offtrack into friendly shit-talking until Gojo remembers why he’s there.
“Anyway, as a doctor, you have an eye for anatomy, right? Bone structures and such?”
Shoko raises a “what the hell are you on” eyebrow.
“Yes…?”
“Do you think Yuji looks like that woman? Or like Geto?” Gojo asks, putting the three photographs on the table.
She stares at them. She stares at him.
“Stop it,” Gojo says.
***
“Sensei, why are you carrying a picture of Itadori around?” Megumi asks suspiciously.
Oops. Gojo was just laying the three photos down on a desk to compare them for the hundredth time and forgot students sometimes cut through the teacher-only part of the school for reasons as objectively valid as “I don’t care, it’s more convenient” (he always abet them, obviously. A good mentor must reward healthy thinking.) Of course, technically, Megumi isn’t a student yet, but he often drags him to the school anyway so he can train illegally with his senpai.
Clearly, there’s only one answer –
“I’m an ephebophile!” Gojo exclaims with the biggest grin.
Aw, man. He actually meant to tell the truth, but his trolling instincts short-circuited his mouth.
Gojo is feeling just a tad sheepish, but it’s worth the following fun of Megumi trying to punch him.
It’s pretty offensive how long it takes to convince his pupil that he was just kidding, though.
***
After a while, Gojo just gives up.
Shoko has stated that she’s a doctor, not a specialist in feature recognition, but “maybe something in the jawline…?” Megumi says the gender and age gap makes a comparison difficult, plus they’d ideally need more photographs with varied angles and lighting. The random people Gojo has asked when he was travelling for missions have given wildly different answers.
This is still nonsense, though. Why would a sorcerer decide to give birth to the child of some hook-up – Suguru’s tone was far too indifferent to suggest a touching love story – and then age him up prematurely? And why would Suguru lie so blatantly to him?
Well, whatever.
Two weeks after his phone call with Suguru, Gojo takes Yuji aside and gives him his prettiest smile.
“So, Yuji! Geto might be your father. You wanna meet up with him?”
Okay, Yuji’s hilarious expression of earth-shattered shock is funny enough that it makes the whole thing a bit worth it.
***
They arranged for a meeting in a café near Tokyo.
“I’ll wait two tables away,” Gojo explains to Yuji. “That way, I can watch over you without intruding on your family's privacy.”
Of course, this is just a pretext. Truth be told, he just doesn’t want to be subjected to whichever far-too-emotional awkwardness will follow the reunion.
Yuji looks at him in that adorable sad dog way of his.
“Sensei, are you just trying to avoid the emotional awkwardness that might follow our reunion?”
Damn it.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Megumi lately, haven’t you?”
“I have, why?”
“No reason.”
Curse Megumi for converting his cutest students to cynicism.
“Anyway,” Gojo says in his best trust me, I’m your sensei voice, “things are complicated between Sug – Geto and me.”
Yuji’s eyes widen and his mouth opens as if to question Gojo, then he seems to catch himself and lets him continue. That was a bit weird, but okay.
“You don’t want that getting in the way of a situation that’s already sensitive,” Gojo argues nobly, “or making it all about us when it’s about you.”
Yuji nods, looking convinced. Good boy. Gojo pats his head and leaves him at the table. He’s not technically lying, after all.
Suguru enters a few minutes later. Gojo can only bless his blindfold for hiding his gaze.
Back in front of the kids, Suguru didn’t look like himself. He wore the grinning mask of a fanatic, gleeful and grandiloquent.
Right now, though – it’s him again. He doesn’t smirk or leer. His eyes slide towards Gojo and then back to Yuji. His face shows nothing but subdued seriousness and Gojo’s heartbeat stops just for a second.
Suguru is sincere. Gojo’s sure of it. If he wasn’t, he’d be smiling and playing at warmth.
Gojo forces himself to focus on his hot chocolate. Then on his ice cream. Then on his apple pie.
They really are taking their time with that family reunion thing.
Whenever he steals glimpses at the two, they seem engrossed in their conversation. Neither of them look especially happy, which is to be expected. Even disregarding the “you almost killed me” matter, Yuji is a kind boy with a lot of principles and Suguru is, well, Suguru. On the plus side, Yuji wouldn’t have to wait to buy a PS5 if Suguru wants to start paying late alimony; on the other hand, it’s blood money, which isn’t Yuji’s style.
After nearly an hour, Yuji finally gets up and heads towards Gojo.
“Sensei, would you like to drink a cup of coffee together?”
What? No.
“Not really,” Gojo confesses cheerfully.
Wait.
“Did Suguru agree to this?”
“I wouldn’t be offering if he hadn’t,” Yuji says with a hint of reproach. “Non-consensual reunion only works in romcom.”
Gojo doesn’t know whether he should laugh or cry at the absurdity of the situation. He rises and gently pats his student’s shoulder.
“Maybe later. Come on, let’s return to the school.”
Salutations are as awkward as Gojo predicted they would be – an exchange of neutral nods while Yuji waves with a worrying “goodbye” instead of “farewell”. Gojo drags Yuji towards the car.
“You want to see him again?”
“Yeah. I told him I’d schedule it with you.”
That means texting Suguru again. Damnit.
“I… shouldn’t have?” Yuji asks worriedly.
“No, no! It’s all fine,” Gojo grins reassuringly.
If anything, maybe realizing he has a kid might lead Suguru to the straight and narrow. Gojo would have scoffed at the idea before, but Suguru’s already gone above and beyond for Itadori – what if Gojo had prepared a trap at the café? (Why hadn’t he?)
It’s only once Gojo’s back at his apartment and waiting for his sushi delivery that it hits him.
Why did Yuji speak about a “romcom”?
***
“Thank you for saving my son,” Suguru texts him after the next meeting.
Ugh. “Megumi just asked me,” Gojo sends back.
“You would have helped him anyway. You knew what Megumi would answer.”
This will not stand. Gojo refuses to be so easily read by someone with whom he hadn’t spoken in years.
“I’m touched that you think me that nice.”
“Yuji’s said a lot of good things about you.”
Gojo groans. His reputation is being ruined.
“He’s a kind boy,” he answers as neutrally as possible.
“He is.”
Not like you, Gojo could say. Or, more honestly, not like us.
He puts his phone down instead of typing.
***
“You know, Geto – my father told me a lot of good things about you,” Yuji says.
Something squeezes Gojo’s chest.
“Did he, now?” He answers lightly.
“He seems to hold you in really high esteem.”
“Mmm.”
“He was very happy to hear that you were doing well for yourself! He told me a ton of stories about when you were both in Jujutsu Tech…”
“That’s nice,” Gojo nods in spite of the suffocating tightness in his chest.
Yuji looks at him, careful in the way that a dog might be when its owner is hurting.
“Tomorrow, we’ll eat together.”
“What?” Gojo exclaims more harshly than he’d like.
“We’ll eat together. I want your opinion on how he’s changed since your school days, so please talk to him.”
“He has changed since our school days! He’s killing people!”
“I know! But, I mean, you can tell me if you think he can still be redeemed – if he has changed-changed or changed-CHANGED? A few conversations should help you reach a verdict, shouldn't they?”
Gojo is not speaking with Suguru. Yuji does have excellent arguments, but he – he –
Damn it, he has zero reasons to refuse.
“I suppose I can come,” he says, feeling each word sink down like a death sentence.
***
Their first meeting together is its own kind of hell: it’s for those kinds of situations that humanity has invented alcohol, except that Gojo doesn’t drink. Yuji makes up for two thirds of the conversation, very obviously stealing glances at them to gauge their reactions. Suguru helps him occupy the silence with a gentleness Gojo never saw from him before.
Gojo is getting jealous of a teenager.
Suguru rubs Yuji’s hair.
Gojo is getting very jealous of a teenager.
“We should do that again next time!” Yuji exclaims cheerfully.
“We should,” Suguru agrees with a kind smile.
“Why not?” Gojo grins, screaming inside.
***
The second conversation is just an inch easier. It helps that Yuji is campaigning for the rehabilitation of “monkeys” in his father’s eyes; Suguru’s very obvious misery makes Gojo feel just a bit more understood.
(As opposed to Gojo, however, he can drink. This is plain unfair.)
The fact that Suguru’s not openly rebuking Yuji is quite interesting, though. He should be brushing him off at the very least, but he isn’t. The situation isn't quite right and yet, at the same time, Suguru still reads sincere. He has no reasons to want anything to do with Sukuna’s vessel; the entity is far beyond the level he can control.
Something is very wrong here.
Yet it’s also pretty convenient, so Gojo doesn’t try that hard to understand it and focuses instead on surviving the awkwardness that his cute student is throwing him into.
***
“Sensei, my father asked for news about you,” Yuji says. “He told me that you went on missions together all the time when you were teenagers. Do you have stories?”
***
“Sensei, my father says he really liked your sense of humour.”
***
“Sensei, please don’t forget to participate when it’s the three of us. I really need your insights about my father, you know.”
***
Is Yuji trying to do something…?
***
“This is my life’s work,” Suguru says blankly.
He’s drunk. This is one of these times when the three of them sit at the same table, except Yuji has just left for an “urgent call from Nobara” which sounds suspiciously like a fake.
Gojo gazes at Suguru. The other man is dressed in all-black, which underlines the sharp elegance of his silhouette. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes slightly hazy. His long, skillful hands are clutching his glass like a lifeboat.
He’s really hot. Seeing him so often from so close is doing reprehensible things to Gojo’s sex drive.
“Your life's work? Running a cult?”
“Trying to exterminate the monkeys! I’ve sacrificed everything for that and now – he says he’s born without curse energy, the same as those Zenin, and he wants me to stop, Satoru. I can’t! I’ve killed too many! But he’s my son!”
Yuji is absolutely not his son. Gojo has long given up on caring. Whichever cursed technique has hit Suguru, whether it was Rika or Sukuna or some kind of Yuji Family Beam, it’s done; whichever mental energy Gojo would have had to worry about it, it’s been exhausted by an unholy amount of awkward conversations.
He’s a bit sorry for Suguru. Not all that much, though, if the whole thing can convince him to stop killing innocents. Gojo doesn’t want to find himself looking down at his best friend’s corpse one day. Back when Suguru attacked Yuta, he really thought –
Yet the worst never came to pass, leaving him to pat a guru’s shoulder as Suguru wallows in alcoholized misery.
“Yuji’s a kind boy.”
“He is,” Suguru moans. “He’s so kind. Where did he get it from?”
“Not from you,” Gojo says, patting his back for emphasis.
Even back then, Suguru wasn’t that good at kindness. He always attempted to do the right thing; he tried to protect and to soothe; still, he wasn’t kind. They were best friends for a reason, after all.
“Not from me,” Suguru nods mournfully. “You must be enjoying yourself, uh?”
“A bit,” Gojo admits. “Come on, Suguru. Let’s throw you in a taxi home.”
“I don’t want to be driven home by a monkey.”
“Sucks to be you.”
Suguru eyes him.
“Drive me home.”
Gojo can’t help but to burst out laughing.
“I should drive you home?”
Suguru throws him a sly glance. His eyes glow darkly; his face is flushed.
“You’re right. A hotel would be better, yeah?”
Gojo’s laughter gets stuck in his throat. Suguru raises an eyebrow.
“I mean, can’t let you know my address.”
Damnit.
“What are you disappointed for… Oh,” Suguru says.
“Shut up.”
Suguru grins. How is it that he manages to make Gojo feel all the things he’s grown indifferent to, like longing and powerlessness and, more importantly: extreme embarrassment?
“I’m game, you know,” Suguru purrs. “I could use some consolation.”
And now it’s Gojo’s turn to go oh.
“Really?” He asks, stupidly.
“Really.”
Okay, fuck it.
Five seconds later, as he drags Suguru’s drunk ass outside to a taxi, Gojo has to summon all his acting abilities to pretend he doesn’t notice Yuji and Nobara doing fist pumps from behind a car.
***
“Maybe I should call Tsukumo Yuki,” Geto mumbles to his pillow the morning after. Or turn to experiment on cursed energy.”
“Now, these sound like excellent ideas!” Gojo exclaims cheerfully.
To be perfectly honest, both options are a bit worrying, but less than mass murder. Definitely less than mass murder.
“Shut up and buy me breakfast.”
***
“Sensei, do you think Todo being that adamant that he’s my best friend might be linked to, huh – I dunno, some Sukuna power or something?” Yuji asks much later.
Gojo pats his shoulder and gives him his shiniest, warmest smile.
“It’s just Todo being weird.”