Archive of Our Own

Shoko wanted to believe that today was going to be a normal day. At least, it started normal, waking up alone after getting what little sleep she could, a bit hungover and craving a smoke and a hot cup of coffee. Sluggishly shuffling around the apartment, she got ready for the day.

The short commute to the college went normal, as well, and soon, she found herself in front of the entrance of her alma mater, dreading a boring work day.

At least, it would have been a boring normal day if it weren’t for Satoru waiting for her by the gate.

“Shoko! I’m so glad to see your lovely face this early in the morning!”

“What do you want?”

“Cutting right to the chase, are we?” he teased. “I need you to babysit Tsumiki and Megumi today,”

“Nope,”

“But Shoko-!”

“Ask Yaga to do it. I don’t have the energy to deal with kids today,”

“No can do! He’s busy discussing stuff with Gakuganji and the elders for the upcoming exchange event,”

“Tragic. Find someone else,”

“I really need you to do this for me,” Satoru pleaded. “I can’t just leave them alone, they’re just little kids,”

“I’m not a babysitter, Satoru,”

“But Shoko, I can’t bring them with me,” he whined. “Pretty please? I’ll bring you back a cool souvenir!”

“You owe me,” Shoko pulled out her cigarette case, plucking one out and lighting it. “I want a few cartons of that special blend, the expensive kind,”

“Deal!” Satoru threw an arm around her. “You’re a lifesaver,”

“You’re just saying that,” she teased as she returned the one-armed hug. “Who knows? The kids might like me more than they like you and they’ll be my kids by the time you get back,”

“Don’t joke about that! Megumi already thinks I’m lame,” he lamented. “He’ll change his mind when I bring him back something cool,”

“Keep telling yourself that, loser,” she blew smoke in his face, laughing as he sputtered.

“Don’t smoke in front of them! They’ll get second hand smoke and die of lung cancer because of you, and then you’ll be so riddled with guilt that you’ll finally quit,” he coughed. “I feel like I’m withering away every time I smell it,”

She laughed.

“I’ll quit when someone responsible, like Hime, tells me to,” she took a drag. “Unlike you, I respect my elders,”

“You respect her in more ways than others,” he teased, making kissing noises at her as he leaned close.

“Ugh, don’t be gross,” she pushed his face away.

“Ya know, Tsumiki would make a perfect flower girl for your wedding, and she can convince Megumi to be your ring bearer,”

“Hime and I aren’t getting married yet,”

“You aren’t even dating yet but I still call dibs on being your wedding planner, best man and officiant,”

“That’s a lot to handle,”

“Nothing the great Gojo Satoru can’t do!”

“Don’t you have a mission to do?”

“Don’t you have some kiddos to be babysitting?”

“Why are we stuck with you today?” Megumi said as bluntly a six-year-old could be, hands fiddling with the straps of his backpack. “Me and Tsumiki can just stay home, you know,”

“Well, you both are pretty small, and that’s usually frowned upon,” Shoko said, crouching down to his level. “Satoru put me in charge of you two today until he gets back, so let’s have a good day, yeah?”

“Okay!” Tsumiki nodded, giving her a smile. “We’ll be good today,”

“I know you’ll be,” Shoko smiled so hard she felt her eyes crinkle. “What do you two want to do today?”

“I don’t want to do anything,” Megumi said stubbornly. “I want to stay home with Tsumiki,”

Shoko’s smile faded, fighting the urge to groan. She knew Megumi would be difficult, she had seen it plenty of times watching Satoru try to wrangle Megumi into doing something he deemed ‘fun’, but Megumi was usually good for her rather than Satoru.

Then again, she thought, he only did that when Satoru was around, so it was probably the kid showing Satoru that no matter what, Megumi thought he was lame.

Now, Shoko realized, Megumi just didn’t like anyone other than Tsumiki.

“It’s pretty nice out today. Do you kids wanna go do something fun? Like go to the park?” Shoko offered. “We can go out to lunch and go shopping afterwards, if you want, and by the time we get back, Satoru should be done with his mission,”

“That sounds fun,” Tsumiki said, grabbing Megumi’s hand. “Let’s do that!”

Megumi looked down at his shoes, then to Tsumiki’s hand holding his.

“Alright, fine,”

Shoko hadn’t expected the park to be so crowded, but then again, it was a weekend, and most parents and babysitters would rather let their children run around and play rather than driving them crazy at home. The kids had been relatively good on the way there, only mild complaining from Megumi’s end, but she had faith that he’d behave if his sister was there with him. She really didn’t want to have to apologize to some kid’s parent or guardian if he said something mean and made a kid cry.

“Go play nice, and don’t let any strangers talk to you,” Shoko said, taking their backpacks. “If a strange adult comes up to you and tries to talk to you, come find me immediately,”

“Yes, Miss Shoko,” Tsumiki bounced on her heels. “Can we go play now?”

“Knock yourselves out,” Shoko pointed to the bench behind her. “I’ll be right over there if you need me,”

Watching Tsumiki run off, Megumi on her heels, she let out a sigh of relief. Hopefully, they’ll play for an hour or so, tucker themselves out, and then she can take them home.

Snapping a picture of the kids clambering up the jungle gym together, she tapped out a quick message to Satoru to let him know that they were, in fact, alive and not in any danger. He responded only a minute later, a selfie with his goofy smile that only she could find endearing, along with an update about how boring it was waiting for the guide he was meeting up with to appear.

Locking her phone, she dug around in her purse to find her cigarette case. With the kids out of sight and a tree behind the bench, she could easily sneak a smoke.

The first drag was always the most comforting, her body savoring that initial hit of nicotine. She had been trying to cut back because Utahime complained about her breath whenever they went out, and later, when they were too drunk, would complain about how the cigarettes made her tongue taste bitter when they kissed.

The bitter aftertaste made her think of someone she hadn’t seen in almost two years, who would always confide to her the disgusting taste of curses. Someone who, in their first year, she used to hold back hair for as they got sick. Someone she used to keep packs of gum on hand for after missions, wordlessly handing him a stick of it or a cigarette just to help get the taste out of his mouth once he finally could ingest them without gagging afterwards.

Someone who she shouldn’t call a friend, but her heart said otherwise.

Lost in thought, the world seemed to drown itself out as she fell into the repetitive task of smoking until a noise pulled her from thinking of old memories. Two girls shrieked, one crying loudly while another voice, one that sounded too much like Tsumiki’s, began to sniffle.

“Don’t touch my sister!” a high pitched voice shrieked.

That voice wasn’t one of hers, exhaling a plume of smoke in relief.

“Don’t touch my sister!”

That voice was definitely one of hers.

Turning from where she had snuck off, she saw Megumi standing protectively in front of Tsumiki, who was holding her scraped knee. A blonde haired girl was glaring up at Megumi from the ground, where she assumed he had shoved her to, another girl with black hair sobbing uncontrollably behind her, holding a doll.

Of course, she takes her eyes off them for two seconds for a smoke and they already cause trouble.

“Megumi!” Shoko scolded, stomping her cigarette with her heel hard before storming over to Megumi, gaze focused on her kids.

This was not what she signed up for when she told Satoru she would babysit.

“Mimiko, Nanako,”

Shoko stopped, her blood freezing in her veins for a moment as she recognized that voice, the voice of the criminal, one of her best friends, a voice she hadn’t heard in over a year.

Gaze following up from the kids, she recognized large hands, hands that used to shield her lighter for her when the wind was too strong so she could smoke, hands that used to feel as familiar as Satoru’s, the three constantly in each other’s spaces, coming into view to pick up the crying child. Once her eyes fixed onto his face, she felt her breath catch in her throat.

It was Suguru. There was no doubt about it. He looked healthier than she had last seen him, having gained back most of the weight he had lost since he was at the college. His hair had gotten longer, now starting to rest against his middle back and down from its’ usual sleek bun. His under eye bags weren’t as pronounced, which she took as a sign of him actually getting some more rest. It was almost as if she was watching it in slow motion, how he bent down to scoop up the dark haired girl gently, propping her on his hip as she immediately latched to his sweater to cry into his shoulder, a hand on her back to soothe her as big tears rolled down her cheeks. The blonde girl got to her feet, turning around to grab for his hand as her cheeks puffed up in anger, tears of frustration beginning to form.

“Shoko?” Suguru looked slightly confused before he glanced down at Megumi, recognition in his eyes at that stern little face that looked much older than his years, a face so similar to the one that sometimes haunted his dreams.

“Suguru?”

There was a beat of silence between the two former classmates, the only sounds between them that of the crying and complaining children.

“She started it, Miss Shoko,” Megumi pointed the finger immediately, not caring about the fact that a wanted man was standing right before him, a man who had fought his father not even four years prior. “She pushed Tsumiki!”

“She made Mimiko cry!” Nanako defended, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she tugged at Suguru’s hand. “And he pushed me!”

“I didn’t mean to,” Tsumiki sniffled.

“You’re a rude ass!” Nanako stuck her tongue out at Megumi.

“I am not! You’re a brat!” Megumi snapped back.

“I am not!” this was reiterated with a stamp of her foot.

“Nanako, he may have been an ass, but you still shouldn’t have pushed his sister,” Suguru explained. “If someone pushed Mimiko, I know you’d be upset and push them. It’s only a natural reaction to do that. Mimiko’s not hurt, so there wasn’t a need to get violent,”

“Probably shouldn’t be calling a six year old an ass, Suguru, it’s kind of childish,” Shoko chided. “But you both shouldn’t be pushing other people just because they made you upset, kids,”

She desperately wished she could have finished that cigarette now. She really hadn’t been up for dealing with playground shoving, but she especially hadn’t been expecting her day to take this sort of turn with Satoru out on a mission. To find Suguru here, of all places, was throwing everything she had planned for today out the window.

It baffled her as to how he was currently on their most wanted list, a kill on sight warrant with his name slapped on it still called by the higher ups, yet here he stood in front of her in broad daylight, looking and acting like an everyday, average, normal adult, though she would be reluctant to even call herself one, and she was the oldest of their trio.

It was almost as if she had stepped into an alternate dimension as she watched him calm down the crying child in his arms, hand still holding the other girl’s as she kept reiterating through angry tears that it wasn’t her fault that she pushed Tsumiki.

“Tsumiki, are you alright?” Shoko asked, turning to the Fushiguro siblings.

Megumi still stood protectively in front of his sister, Tsumiki pushing herself up off the ground and brushing the dirt from her skirt and hands.

“I’m fine. My knee hurts,” Tsumiki pointed to her scraped knee, sluggishly bleeding. “I need a bandaid, please,”

“C’mere, I have one,”

Silently praising herself for remembering to pack a mini first aid kit in her purse, Shoko cleaned up the scraped knee, putting some antibacterial ointment on the skin on and around the small wound before putting a cat bandaid (a gift from Satoru) on it.

“What happened?” Suguru’s tone was firm, yet understanding. The tone he used to give her and Satoru whenever they had gone off without him and gotten a little banged up on missions in their first year, when she was still trying to perfect her ability, trying to lie to make him feel better for not being there.

It felt nostalgic, made a part of her soul miss the days he used to scold them for breaking rules despite following along with their plans, lying through his teeth to Yaga because he was the ‘star student’.

The star student who became the criminal. 

“She tried to grab Mimiko’s doll, and, and-!” Nanako rambled to him, angry tears in her eyes. “That’s a big no-no, you said so!”

“I just wanted to see if she wanted to play with us,” Tsumiki admitted sadly. “I didn’t think she’s be upset if I looked at her doll,”

“Then that girl pushed Tsumiki, so I pushed her back,” Megumi interrupted, pointing at Nanako.

“Master Geto, I-!”

“Nanako, if you started it, you need to apologize,”

“But she-!”

“Nanako,” the stern look she received immediately made her close her mouth, the rebuttal dying on her lips.

“I’m sorry I pushed you,” she mumbled, looking down at her shoes. “Just don’t try taking toys that aren’t yours,”

Suguru sighed, balancing Mimiko on his hip as her cries quieted, holding onto her doll tighter now that Tsumiki had tried to take it.

Shoko sighed, exhaling deeply through her nose as she crouched down to be level with the Fushiguro siblings.

“Tsumiki, you should apologize for trying to take Mimiko’s doll, and Megumi, you need to apologize for pushing Nanako back,”

“We’re sorry,” Tsumiki said in a watery voice. “I didn’t mean to make her sad,”

“I don’t want to say sorry,” Megumi said defiantly. “She deserved it for pushing Tsumiki,”

“Megumi.”

“…sorry, I guess,”

The kids, except Megumi, who was scowling with his arms folded, looked ready to burst into a fit of tears again. Mimiko drew hiccupped breaths from her spot in Suguru’s arms as she tried to stop crying, Nanako clinging to his hand sniffling to prevent herself from crying, and Tsumiki, despite being the eldest of the group, had a wobbly lip that she was desperately trying to stop, trying her hardest to not cry.

“And here I thought I’d bring them back to Satoru without a hair out of place,” Shoko mumbled to herself. “So much for an easy day,”

“I’ll make up for it,” Suguru said, looking displeased at the fact that the two girls with him looked so close to tears again. “How about crepes? I’ll pay,”

“I could use some coffee,” Shoko admitted. “The usual place?”

“Sounds good to me,” Suguru shrugged. “Lead the way,”

The crepes on Takeshita street were always phenomenal, no matter how many times Shoko had indulged in them with Satoru whenever they were in the area. They used to go there for an after-exorcism celebration as a team, the three of them sitting out on the patio while Shoko chain-smoked and the boys bickered about who did more during the mission, a true pissing contest.

She used to laugh at their antics, Satoru pushing Suguru’s buttons until he snapped, the three almost always getting kicked out for fighting, or because of her smoking so much.

She never thought she’d be here without Satoru, her and Suguru sitting together while the kids all sat around them.

Megumi clung to Tsumiki’s side as they ate, shooting a hesitant look at the girls as they sat contently by Suguru’s side, eating at their crepes. Shoko watched with a raised brow as he, almost as if on instinct, leaned over with a napkin to swipe at a glob of whipped cream that was on Nanako’s cheek, the girl promptly ignoring him doing so as she bit into a chunk of strawberry with a pleased noise.

“So, you’ve got kids now?” Shoko teased as she held the warm cup of coffee in her hands. “Hiding a secret family from Satoru and me? Geez, you womanizer, how old were you-”

“They’re not mine, idiot,” he said fondly, and Shoko found herself fighting the urge to smile. Had it been three years ago, he probably would have picked on her more for assuming as much, Shoko knowing full well there was no venom behind his words. “Well…they are mine, in a way,”

Part of her realized that these girls must have been the reason why he slaughtered that whole village. He had been branded a curse user almost immediately afterwards, only a few days in between the time of her seeing him off as he went to the countryside and him coming home to murder his own parents. She knew that he wouldn’t have just done if for the sake of doing it, there had to have been a trigger.

As she watched him look at the two girls with a fondness in his gaze, she realized they were that trigger, that final straw.

“How do you know Master Geto, lady?” Nanako asked bluntly, leaning halfway across Suguru’s lap to look at Shoko from under his arm, almost making him spill his tea on her had it not been for his good reflexes.

“Nanako, don’t be rude,” Suguru corrected.

“She’s not being rude, it’s alright,” Shoko waved him off. “She’s just curious,”

“Well, then how does he know you?” Mimiko asked, prompting a light chuckle from Suguru. “We don’t know you,”

“Shoko was a classmate of mine from school, girls,”

“I’ve been demoted to just ‘classmate’? Harsh. I thought we were friends,” Shoko teased.

“But she’s not your best friend, like Mister Satoru is?” Mimiko asked, head tilted as she furrowed her brow. “I thought you said he was your only friend,”

Shoko hid her smirk behind her hand at the girls looking at Suguru intently waiting for an explanation, his face beginning to flush with embarrassment like how it used to whenever she teased him about how close he was to Satoru.

“Suguru is one of my best friends,” Shoko admitted, shifting in her seat to look at the girls better. “We had a lot of fun together, but I haven’t seen him in a long time,”

“Why haven’t you made time to see him, then?” Nanako asked, pushing more into Suguru’s space to interrogate Shoko more. “Master Geto is a very busy man, you know, but he does make appointments. He probably wouldn’t even charge you money if you’re actually friends,”

“Nanako, enough,” Suguru warned.

Shoko snorted, prompting an angry expression from the twins.

“If you were really his friend, you’d make time to see him,” Mimiko chimed in.

“Girls, this isn’t a conversation for you,” Suguru lightly scolded.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Shoko affirmed. “They’re just curious. I get that,”

Her gaze went over to the Fushiguro siblings, Tsumiki trying to wipe at the bit of cream on the side of Megumi’s mouth as the youngest Fushiguro listened intently to the conversation.

“Sometimes, when two friends grow up, they grow apart because of how busy life can get,” Shoko tried to explain. “I’m a doctor, so I’m busy helping heal people. Suguru is busy doing what he does. We both are busy people, and we just haven’t made time to see each other in a while, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less of my friend than he was when we saw each other almost every day at school,”

The girls seemed to accept that as a suitable answer, resuming eating. The silence was nice, Shoko enjoying her coffee and just the presence of Suguru, something she hadn’t realized she had missed so greatly.

They enjoyed their little break for a while longer, only being interrupted once Suguru finished the last dregs of his tea.

“Can we go back and play?” Nanako spoke up, tugging at his sleeve.

“I don’t see why not,” he admitted. “Are you…?”

The question didn’t need to be finished, Shoko already giving him a small nod.

“If the kids are down for it, so am I,” she said. “Do you guys want to go back and play?”

“No,” Megumi grumbled.

“Yes, please,” Tsumiki said, tugging on her brother’s shirt sleeve.

“That settles it, then,” she said, standing up. “Let’s head back, shall we?”

The genuine smile that graced Suguru’s face – if only for a second – was just the answer she needed.

The park was a lot less crowded as it originally had been when Shoko had first brought the kids, which she was thankful for.

“We’ll be right over here,” Suguru said, crouched down to be level with his girls. “Go have fun and please don’t push anyone again, Nanako,”

“I’m not gonna push anyone!” she defended, cheeks puffed out. “I’m going to be good, Master Geto,”

“I know you will,” he reached up to ruffle their hair, a soft smile on his face. “Play nice, yeah?”

“We will,” Mimiko nodded, taking Nanako’s hand in hers.

“Don’t start any more fights,” Shoko warned to the Fushiguros, Tsumiki nodding and taking off with Megumi in tow.

Once they were certain the kids were in their line of sight and playing nicely, they both sat on the bench Shoko had been occupying earlier, settling into a comfortable silence. Here, she realized, she didn’t need to interrogate him over what happened. Here, she could just be the babysitter for the day, and he could be the guardian of his two girls, and they could just coexist.

“How’s Utahime?” he asked, leaning back with his arm resting on the back of the bench, dangerously close to her shoulder. It was almost as if he wanted to put an arm around her, to lounge like they used to not even a year prior.

“She’s good,” Shoko shrugged, ignoring the closeness of his hand. “We see each other frequently,”

“She’s still Grade One?”

“Demoted, actually,” she frowned. “She got pretty badly injured during a mission and the higher ups demoted her to semi-Grade One,”

“That sounds like something they would do,”

They both wanted to comment on it, the dislike of the higher ups something they had all shared as classmates. It made her remember nights where they all crashed in Satoru’s room, junk food piled between them as they lounged in their pajamas, watching shitty movies and complaining about the world they were thrust into, staying up into the early hours of the morning talking about how they would change it. The confidence that came with being young and dumb, the idea that they could actually change what they disliked because they were untouchable.

“Nanami quit,”

“He never seemed the type to want to stay,” Suguru said. “Not after Haibara,”

He frowned, remembering having to cover the top half of his underclassmen’s body (the only part that had been salvageable. Poor, young, Nanami had to haul back the torso of his only other classmate, his first friend) in the morgue, pretending he didn’t hear the quiet sniffling that came from Nanami fruitlessly trying to hold back his tears as they had begun to spill down his face, mixing in with Haibara’s dried blood spattered on his cheeks. It had been painful to see.

He knew they were close.

They all were.

Until they weren’t anymore.

A pang in his chest reminded him that he was part of the reason why they weren’t close anymore, and he had done so by choice.

“Last I heard from Satoru, he’s working at a stocks company. That’s so like him, the stiff and boring businessman,”

“Where is Satoru?” he asked.

“Why, so you can try to find him?” Shoko asked, lighting her cigarette. She took a drag as she contemplated whether she should tell him the truth.

“No, I just don’t want to risk running into him,” Suguru admitted before she could decide. “He doesn’t want to see me. Not after everything,”

“He does,” Shoko exhaled, flicking the ash from her cigarette before she took another drag. “He misses you,”

The shocked look on his face did not go unmissed, even if it only lasted for a second.

“I suppose I’d say that sometimes, rarely, I miss you both,”

“Honesty hour? That’s rare, given our current circumstances,”

“I know you won’t apprehend me and take me back. You have no backup, and Fushiguro’s kids are with you, and I know you wouldn’t put them in harm’s way,” Suguru relaxed a bit on the park bench, watching as Nanako chased Mimiko and Tsumiki around in a game of freeze tag, Megumi scowling in his spot after getting tagged. “And, likewise, I won’t put Mimiko and Nanako in harm’s way by picking a pointless, albeit easy, fight,”

“Oh, really? Don’t think you’re so tough, now,” Shoko teased. “Last I checked, I still am the undefeated arm wrestling champion between us,”

“I let you win that time,”

“Keep telling yourself that,”

It was almost too easy to fall back into their normal banter, Shoko realized. If things carried on like they were now, she bet they’d be complaining about Satoru in a few minutes, just like they used to. Those were still some of her favorite memories, nights spent escaping up to the rooftop with cigarettes she cajoled him into buying her with the fake ID he had and drinking cheap malt liquor, getting drunk quickly, laughing and complaining about their partner, school, the world they lived in, slumped together under Suguru’s jacket as they watched the night sky. He was always so warm, her face pressed against his shoulder as he identified constellations he knew from growing up in the countryside, as she made up crude ones, the two of them laughing.

Satoru always found them, sooner or later, and some nights they would all crash up on the rooftop, waking up cold amidst empty cans and discarded plastic candy bags, being scolded by Yaga. Other nights, they’d all stumble back to Satoru’s room and crash on his king sized bed that he insisted upon getting once he came to the college, warm and piled together. She used to wake up curled up to Suguru’s warm back, her face in between his shoulder blades as he cuddled closer to Satoru, the two dead to the world. Those mornings, the rare few silent minutes she had with just them, were some of her most cherished moments, the three all content in just laying together, warm and safe in each other’s arms.

It was something she missed immensely, something both Suguru and Satoru missed just as much as she had, but they were all too prideful to admit it to each other.

“I keep thinking…”

Shoko watched as he sighed deeply, actively avoiding her gaze.

“I keep thinking about everything I should have done better,” he finally said. “How things could have been different,”

‘Had I been stronger’ hung between them.

She felt it, too.

It was impossible to not think so, the two having to compete and be compared to ‘the strongest’.

“He would’ve vouched for you, you know,”

“No, he wouldn’t have. He’s too necessary to the system, even if the higher ups can’t stand him,”

“Yeah, but he still would’ve fought for you,” she exhaled, watching the smoke dissipate in the air. “I would have, too. Would’ve fought for the girls, too, if you had told us about them. We would’ve fought tooth and nail. We still would, if you wanted to come back home,”

“Now you’re just trying to make yourself feel better,”

“No, not really. You just think I am because you never bothered to think that we’d understand if you had only told us what was wrong,” she watched his gaze go back to his girls, how they were laying in the grass, giggling over something silly. “He talks about it a lot when it’s just me and him. How he would’ve tried to clear your name so you could’ve stayed, how we could have maybe tried to convince you to stay,”

There was a beat of silence between them, the children laughing, happy and blissfully unaware of what they were talking about.

Suguru sighed, breaking the silence between them with a sag of his shoulders.

“There’s too much damage to even try to repair things. Even if I did explain, I don’t think you’d understand. I was never destined to be tethered to you two,”

“Satoru would argue otherwise,” Shoko stubbed out her cigarette with one last exhale of smoke. “He’s pathetic,”

“Yeah,”

The silence between them was bittersweet, and Shoko found herself reaching a hand out and rubbing his back in small circles, a habit she had taken to doing since their first year whenever he had swallowed too many bitter curses and would be dry heaving for hours. She wasn’t the best when it came to comforting words, she never was the ‘warm hug to make you feel better’ type, but she could do this, a semblance of what they once had.

All nice things came to an end, even if this little encounter had been unexpected. The time on her watch reminded her of that. Her phone buzzed, signaling Satoru’s mission success, and that he would be returning within the next two hours.  

“I have to get the kids back or Satoru will complain that I’m stealing them from him,” Shoko admitted, getting up and offering her hand.

“I probably should get going, too,” Suguru agreed, taking her outstretched hand. “Mimiko and Nanako look like they’re ready to go, and they’re almost unbearable when they’re tired,”

“Tsumiki, Megumi!” she called out, watching the siblings stop in their playing. “Come on, we have to get going back!”

Tsumiki waved to the girls before running towards Shoko, Megumi not far behind.

Nanako and Mimiko followed, heading straight to Suguru.

“Master Geto, I’m sleepy,” Mimiko yawned.

“Me too,” Nanako raised her arms up, Suguru bending down to pick them both up.

“Hi, Sleepy One and Sleepy Two,” he joked, a rare soft smile on his face. Shoko had to cover her mouth before she burst into giggles, already knowing what he had just set the girls up for. “I’m Geto,”

Shoko watched the little family exchange, the twins groaning in his hold at what he had just said, Mimiko shifting the conversation to ask about dinner while Nanako rested her head on his shoulder, eyes drooping.

“Guess this is goodbye, then,” Shoko said.

“It was good seeing you,” Suguru gave her a small, honest smile, and she felt her heart ache as she remembered seeing that smile so often when they were all together. “I hope we meet again, in a new world,”

She felt her lip twitch at the meaning behind those words.

If only he had just asked for her and Satoru’s help, she thought. If only he didn’t feel like he had to have gone through this alone.

She could then be living a life where his girls and the Fushiguro siblings grew up side by side, the three of them raising and training them, keeping them safe. A world where she wouldn’t see Satoru crying on the anniversary of his defection, clinging to one of Suguru’s shirts, the scent long gone from it. A world where she wouldn’t feel like she had to down a bottle of alcohol and chain smoke to forget about their times together, the memories that made her so full of joy that now made her so unbearably sad. 

A world where they could all be happy together, just Shoko and her boys, a family they could have forged together, where they wouldn’t be alone.

“I hope so, too,” she settled on, taking Tsumiki’s hand as she took her brother’s. “Later, Suguru,”

“Bye, Shoko,” he was already walking away, the girls looking at her from over his shoulders.

“Bye, Miss Shoko,” the girls tiredly parroted.

Shoko watched him walk away, part of her screaming to stop him, the other part trying her best not to call Satoru, to tell him to warp here so they could just try to convince him to stay.

Before she realized it, he had blended into the crowd, and had slipped through her fingers once more.

“Miss Shoko?” Tsumiki asked. “Can we maybe see them again?”

“I’m not so sure,” Shoko forced herself to say. “I’ll check with Satoru. C’mon, let’s get going back. He should almost be home. I’m almost certain he’s bringing back a special cake for you two,”

One last glance behind her proved that he was gone once again, letting the kids lead the way back home.

Satoru, true to his word, did bring back souvenirs.

The kids, after eating dinner, were engrossed in the cake he had brought back. Shoko opted out of enjoying the savory treat in favor of stepping out onto the balcony of Satoru’s penthouse suite to indulge in the cigarillos that were only sold out in the country, feeling some of her worries melt away with each inhale. By the time she had finished her second cigarillo, stubbing the butt of it onto the railing, the kids were falling asleep on the couch watching Digimon reruns that Satoru had thrown on. It brought a bittersweet sense of nostalgia, remembering curling up in between him and Suguru and watching anime reruns of shows they enjoyed, bickering over who was the cooler character and which villain was more overpowered.

She was content in watching as Satoru scooped Tsumiki up into his arms, her sleeping form tucked against his chest as he carefully brought her to her room. Once she had been tucked in for the night, he returned to collect Megumi, who had fallen asleep with his face pressed into a couch cushion, whining slightly as Satoru lifted him up to bring him to bed in his own room.

Domestic life wasn’t something she had anticipated from Satoru. He seemed to be the permanent bachelor type, at least, he did now since his one and only was gone. When he had approached her, both children in tow and explaining that they were now his, she had never anticipated this. Having the Fushiguros in his life brought about a softness she had never seen in Satoru, and she couldn’t bring it in herself to chide him for it. She remembered the confused and crazed look she had shared with Yaga, how they both had questioned it at the time. Satoru easily slipped into the role of caregiver, and, despite how much Megumi vehemently disliked showing it, both children did appreciate his efforts. Being abandoned by both parents, and unknowingly being taken in by the executioner of their (step)father, the Fushiguro siblings adjusted quickly enough, as did Satoru.

Was Satoru ‘father of the year’ material? No, not in the slightest. ‘Best big brother figure’? Sure. The sight still warmed a bit of Shoko’s heart whenever she saw it, and before she had known it, she had gotten a little attached to the Fushiguros, too, with how much Satoru brought them around.

“How were they today? Good?” Satoru asked, stepping out of Megumi’s room quietly as he shut the door behind him.

“They were perfect,” she said, leaning against the island in the kitchen, sipping at the coffee he had made.

“Really?” the skepticism in his voice did not go unmissed, Shoko fighting the urge to giggle at his tone.

“They were, actually,” she said, both hands gripping her coffee cup. “They didn’t argue or anything, and they listened to me,”

Satoru looked so young in the lighting of the kitchen, a warm smile on his face after she finished. Despite being the same age as her, Satoru just looked so young. Too young, in fact, to be dealing with everything alone.

Too young to have so much pain behind those bright blue eyes.

“I know you saw Suguru,”

She paused, swallowing her mouthful of coffee, the bitter taste hitting the back of her throat uncomfortably.

“Oh? How do you know that?”

“I could never forget the residual feeling of his energy,” Satoru admitted, taking his spot beside her. “Did he…?”

“Try to get me to join his legion of evil curse users? No,” Shoko rolled her eyes. There was no use in lying to him. He was, after all, her best friend. “We just talked. It was nice, actually,”

Silence enveloped the dimly lit kitchen, Satoru’s shoulders sagging with the weight of being the strongest, bearing that title alone since the one who helped shoulder the burden left.

He may not have that shoulder anymore, but he had Shoko’s shoulder, to lean on, to press his cheek against the firmness of bone, to allow himself to be touched by someone he cared about. He felt her press her cheek against the top of his head, heard her steady breathing help ground him.

“He looked good,” she spoke up, breaking the silence after a minute. “He gained a bit of weight back, and he looked like he was actually getting some sleep,”

“How did you run into him?” Satoru asked, peering up over his shades at her.

He patiently listened as she recalled what happened. He didn’t interrupt, nor did he tease her when her voice caught in her throat.

“So that’s what he meant by new family,” Satoru mumbled. “Suguru is the savior type, you know,”

“Of course he is,” she laughed bitterly. “He was always so self-righteous,”

A beat of silence fell between them, before Satoru looked down at her with weary eyes, eyes too full of hurt and heartache for his young age.

“I know it’s horrible for me to say it, but I miss him,” Satoru admitted to her.

“I know,” she choked, letting him wrap his arms around her middle, letting him bury his face into the shoulder of her sweater. “I miss him, too,”

She tried to ignore the dampness forming on her shoulder as he held her tightly.

“I want him to come back home,” he admitted softly, barely above a whisper.

The view over Satoru’s unruly mane of stark white hair began to blur as her eyes welled up, furiously willing the tears away before they could even begin to fall.

“I do, too,” she admitted, voicing her true feelings to the only other person she knew she could tell.

It was silent in the Gojo-Fushiguro household kitchen, the only two occupants holding each other tightly, as if the other would slip from their grasp, just as he had to them.

Mourning the loss of their friend would be easier if there were a body to bury, to cremate, a place to visit and reminisce.

It was much harder to mourn the person that once was their best friend when he was still alive, breathing and walking amongst the living, purposefully choosing to not remain at their sides.

It was quiet in their household, dinner having wrapped up for the night as Larue and Manami made their way to their own personal quarters, bidding them a goodnight. Father and daughters settled into their usual routine, the girls getting their hair brushed and braided after their baths, the three of them brushing their teeth together before he had to tuck them in for the night, the moon high in the night sky already.

Though Nanako would argue that they were getting ‘too old’ to be read a bedtime story, it was still one of Suguru’s favorite parts of the day, getting to read to the girls until they fell asleep. Nanako had fallen asleep almost immediately, the excitement of the day wearing her out, but even as he droned on from the philosophy book he had been reading, Mimiko fought against sleep, even if her eyes were drooping with each sentence.

“You should go to sleep,” he admitted, finishing the chapter and bookmarking it. “It’s late,”

She sleepily nodded, letting him tuck the blankets up to her chin, even tucking in her stuffed doll at her side.

“Master Geto?”

“Yes, Mimiko?”

“I had fun today,” she said. “I hope you stay friends with Miss Shoko. I want to see her again,”

His eyes stung as tears threatened to come, instead, giving her a warm smile.

“I hope so, too,” he admitted. “We’ll see. She’s very busy, just like how I am,”

“But you still make time for me and Nanako,” Mimiko argued. “And you and Larue go out to lunch all the time,”

“You’ve got me there,” he chuckled softly. “I’ll try,”

Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he stood up from her bedside.

“Goodnight, Mimiko,”

“Goodnight, Master Geto,”

He crept out of the girls’ bedroom, shutting off their light and leaving the door open a crack in case they woke up in the middle of the night and needed him. The short distance back to his own bedroom felt like an eternity as he shut the door behind him.

There, atop the bookshelf in his room, sat a few framed pictures. The first he saw was of the girls, beaming up at him as they showed him shells they had collected at the beach. He had snapped the picture to encapsulate their cheery faces, so full of joy, shortly after he had saved them. The second picture was of his new family, a twin on each arm, Larue with his arm around his waist as Manami rested her head against his shoulder, Miguel smiling widely as he leaned into her. It had been to commemorate their first successful year after overtaking and operating the cult, and also to break in the brand new expensive camera he had purchased for taking more pictures like this one.

The third and final picture that sat framed on his bookshelf was one Haibara had taken. Satoru had his arms around his neck, cheek pressed against his own, as they smiled for the camera. He had his arms around Shoko, squeezing her so tight she had spit out her cigarette. Even Nanami, looking as unimpressed with his seniors as ever, was giving a small smile in the background. The picture, taken on a cheap disposable camera, was a bit blurry, and Shoko’s eyes were wide as she watched her cigarette tumble to the ground, but they were happy.  

That photo had been taken before everything went wrong, before the Star Plasma Vessel mission, before Haibara’s death, before Satoru surpassed everyone in terms of strength.

That photo reminded him of everything that could have been, everything that should have been.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he got up and turned the picture frame downward. He couldn’t look at it, not after today.

He couldn’t be reminded of what he left behind, even if his heart yearned to return to what once was.

There was no turning back, not now.