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Satoru woke up with the first whimper that escaped Suguru’s lips, the other sleeping restless beside him. Patting around the sheets in the dark room, he reached out to grab a shoulder, a hand, to give a reassuring squeeze, when the blood in his veins ran cold at the sleepy cry.
“No… don’t go…” Suguru’s mumbling in his sleep, and in the darkness of their bedroom, Satoru could swear he could hear the rapid panicked beat of his heart. “Mimiko, Nanako…”
Satoru pursed his lips, swallowing the uncomfortable lump forming in his throat.
The next noise that escaped Suguru’s sleeping lips was the start of a pained sob, and in that instant, Satoru had his mind made up. Waking Suguru from whatever dream he was having would be better than letting it carry on.
He finally felt around for him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it lightly thrice. He listened for Suguru’s harsh gasp as he woke, felt the bed dip with his movement as he forced himself to sit up.
“Satoru?” his voice was hesitant, dry, chest heaving as the residual panic began to ebb from his system.
“I’m right here,” Satoru’s hand left his in favor of trailing up the arm that had once been blown off, using the familiar plane of Suguru’s body to find his cheek and cup it, some loose hair caught between his fingers. Silky as ever, albeit a bit damp from sweat at the base of his skull, but Satoru didn’t mind. He ran his thumb across Suguru’s smooth cheek, stopping his movement once he felt the wet tracks of tears falling.
It was silent in their bedroom. There is no worse pain than seeing someone you love in pain, and though Satoru opened blind eyes, pale and hazy as they had been since sacrificing a part of himself to get Suguru back, he still felt his heart ache as the hitched sob Suguru tried to repress.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Satoru asked, careful to keep his voice low, feeling Suguru shake his head.
The tears were still flowing, faster now it seemed, as Suguru crumbled beside him. Shifting, Satoru pulled him into his arms, letting Suguru cry into the shoulder of his sleep shirt. He held him as tightly as he had when Suguru had regained control of his body and had freed Satoru from Prison Realm, not wanting to let go in fear that he may slip from his grasp forever. He pressed his lips to the ridge across his temple where the silvery scar that marred Suguru’s forehead resided that Satoru was thankful he could not see and that Shoko, despite her best efforts, couldn’t erase. Now, with everything over, Satoru could be there for Suguru like how he should’ve been there for him over a decade ago, before everything fell to shit.
Suguru’s grip on him was achingly tight, Satoru’s bones creaking slightly from his hold.
“It’s okay,” Satoru reassured. “I’ve got you,”
Life may have given Suguru Geto another chance, however, he hadn’t expected one of his worst fears to come true once regaining control of his body.
He had been allowed out of the infirmary a couple days after the final fight once he had finally woken up, leaning heavily onto Satoru’s side as his body still recovered. Shoko guided them down the hall, prattling on about how they both should take it easy and how they weren’t sure what would happen with Suguru’s execution and whether or not it would be cancelled, when they had run into Satoru’s students.
“Gojo-sensei!” the chorus of the three first years had been full of relief and joy, Shoko taking Satoru’s place to support Suguru as the three tackled their teacher with a tight embrace.
“My darling students! You did amazing, as expected when you’re being taught by the Great Teacher Gojo!”
“You’re so lame,” Nobara had grumbled, causing Satoru to laugh.
Satoru’s laugh felt so good to hear again. It was one of Suguru’s favorite sounds.
However, seeing Satoru’s students ask a million questions to their teacher, who was so desperately trying to track their voices in an attempt to hold their gaze with blind eyes, made his heart ache.
The whole fight had been such a blur, and he had lost consciousness shortly after freeing Satoru, using up most of his energy in the process. He hadn’t had time to scan the battlefield for their familiar energies or their faces that he could draw from memory with pinpoint accuracy, and seeing Satoru’s students crowd him made him realize the lack of twin presences at his side.
“Satoru?” his voice, hoarse, called out.
“Hm?”
“Where are my girls?” he asked, feeling his chest constrict with worry. “I can’t sense them nearby,”
Silence fell over the group uncomfortably. Shoko stiffened beside him, her hold around his waist tightening ever so slightly at his curiosity.
“I… honestly don’t know where they are, Suguru,” Satoru said. “I’m sorry,”
Another beat of silence fell, his breath hitched in his chest.
“I – I know. I’m sorry,” Itadori Yuji had said, lip wobbling. “Sukuna…”
The young teen swallowed, Satoru’s hand tense on his shoulder.
“They just wanted you to rest,” he said, sympathetic tears starting to fall. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop it,”
Suguru’s heart and world shattered at the admission. As his vision blurred, all he could think about were the past decade of his life spent with his daughters. Mimiko had always been so clingy, and Manami used to gently tease her for never outgrowing it, but Suguru never wanted to see the day when his girls wouldn’t need him anymore. Nanako was like a ray of sunshine, always loud and honest with her feelings, filling the silence of the day with her endless questions and thoughts. The girls he massacred a village for, who clung to him like a lifeline as he had clung to them. The girls he used to carry around when they were little, one on each hip as they clung to his robes or his shirt, singing to them around the house as they did chores or cooked together. His girls, who he used to tuck into bed each night until Nanako complained that they were too old, his girls who sought him out for comfort when their nightmares prevented them from sleep, sleeping soundly once they were safe in his hold. His daughters, who he raised and loved with his whole heart and soul, his family, his pride and joy.
His daughters were dead.
That had been three months ago.
Three long months living with the knowledge of their deaths, of having to adapt to coming back in control of his body.
Three months of being by Satoru’s side, two broken men learning to live with the consequences of their actions. Rebuilding jujutsu society, now with the elders gone and the remaining clans arguing with one another, would take precedent over everything, but it had been hard to focus on working with who remained when he was too busy grieving silently and not giving himself the chance to mourn properly.
Satoru, despite not being able to see now, had noticed, but hadn’t treaded on the subject out of respect, not wanting to tear open a healing would while it was still fresh. They had gone to bed relatively earlier than usual, Suguru too exhausted to bother staying awake after they had dinner together, and he had fallen asleep almost immediately after his head hit the pillow, Satoru’s arm around his waist warm and secure.
He had assumed he’d fall into a dreamless sleep, but now, as he squeezed his eyes shut, he couldn’t get their faces out of his mind.
“Bad dream?” Satoru supplied. “You know they’re not real,”
The dream had just felt so real.
It felt like he had his girls in his arms once more, holding them so tight he feared he may be hurting them, pressing kisses to the tops of their heads and hearing their sweet giggles at his display of affection.
“We love you,” Nanako and Mimiko had said in unison, a habit they sometimes couldn’t help if they were thinking the same thing. “We love you, we love you,”
“I love you, too,” he had squeezed them tighter. “I love you both so, so much,”
The pain of realization settled in once he woke up, nearly bolting from his bed to go down the hall to see them. Normally, he’d get out of bed and go to their rooms, always near his regardless of where he and his family stayed. Normally, he’d peer into Nanako’s bubblegum pink room, seeing her curled up in her multitude of bedsheets, snoring away. Normally, he’d go to the room next to Nanako’s and find Mimiko sprawled out on her back, plushes scattered across her bed. She often kicked her sheets off in the night, so he’d tiptoe in to cover her up to make sure she didn’t get cold before going back to his own room, reassured that his girls were safe and asleep. That reassurance usually lulled him back to sleep rather quickly.
Waking up, he was hit with the realization that he was no longer in his bedroom at the temple, where he and his family had lived. He was in his and Satoru’s bedroom, his one and only starting to rouse from his sleep. The familiar walls felt so unfamiliar in the moment, and Satoru’s hand on his cheek grounded him back to the reality that they were gone.
“You wanna talk about it?” Satoru inquired.
The girls were gone, the sharp barbs of loss stinging in his chest.
“Was it about that curse?” Satoru prodded. “It’s gone now. Shoko said you’re all cleared. You’re still you, y’know,”
“No, it wasn’t that,” Suguru’s own voice sounded so different, throat straining to respond.
“Was it about them?” Satoru asked, hesitant.
A new wave of tears came, and three months of pent up emotions released like a broken dam.
“They’re gone, Satoru!” he wailed, forcing himself to admit the worst truth, shoulders shaking as he buried his face further into Satoru’s neck. “I couldn’t save them, and I told them I’d always protect them, but–”
“It’s not your fault, Suguru,” Satoru reassured him, tracing infinity patterns onto his back. “We never could have anticipated how things turned out,”
Satoru was blessed, despite what he had suffered in the aftermath of everything. He almost lost Megumi and Tsumiki, thankful that they were alive and well, but he had never been as close to them as Suguru had been with Mimiko and Nanako. He never had to bury a child, let alone two, but even Suguru couldn’t be given that closure, since, from what Itadori had recalled, there had simply been nothing left in Shibuya to properly bury.
“You did your best,” Satoru kissed the crown of his head as Suguru cried himself out in his arms. “You did your best, and they love you no matter what,”
I don’t deserve their love because I failed them, Suguru wanted to say. I didn’t do my best because they’re not here. I don’t deserve this.
He was just so tired. Grief weighed on him heavy, like he was drowning and couldn’t resurface for air. It was so vastly different compared to how being trapped as a prisoner in his own body had been, that experience much like a lucid sleep.
If he had known what this pain would feel like, he would have rather chosen to remain asleep than to wake up.
If he hadn’t woken up, though, he wouldn’t have Satoru.
Being back at Satoru’s side was something he had thought would be impossible after that day in Shinjuku. Knowing at his death, however, that Satoru still trusted him, still loved him, had brought him peace. Being here now in Satoru’s hold, still trusted, still loved, even after all the terrible things he had done, the other carding a hand through his hair as he rest his cheek atop his head, Suguru knew this second chance was something he should not deserve.
Despite those feelings, despite everything that had happened between them, Satoru was there.
That reassurance was enough to bring him a bit of peace, albeit temporary, a salve for his aching heart.
Satoru’s heartbeat was steady, strong and pulsing beneath his ear, a sign that they both made it out alive.
If they could make it through everything else that had happened before, he could make it through this.
“Tell me about them,” Satoru whispered. “Your girls,”
And so, he listened, listened to his one and only talk about his adopted daughters. Daughters, whom Suguru dedicated a whole decade of his life to, much longer than the time Satoru had even spent with him. Satoru learned about theirs likes, their dislikes, fond memories Suguru held close to his heart about taking the girls to different places, showing them different things, meeting new people. He mentioned his family, the curse users that seemed to be drawn to him, and how the girls were always loved and fiercely protective of him. He told Satoru about embarrassing memories, of just learning to be a parent, of his failures and simple moments like finally being able to bake the girls birthday cakes being huge accomplishments in their eyes. Every detail about Mimiko and Nanako that resided in Suguru’s mind, he told Satoru, as if wanting to say everything out loud to prevent himself from forgetting.
After what felt like an hour, Suguru finally cried himself out. The pained cries turned into hushed whimpers before finally residing into steady breathing. Satoru longed to see Suguru’s face, the only thing he hated about being blind now is that he couldn’t see the face of his one and only, could only map it out by his cursed energy signature or with touch. Knowing that his Suguru was alive and warm in his grasp made up for the lack of sight, relief in having what he had once lost returned safely to him making things feel alright.
“Suguru?” he called out. “You good?”
His question was met with a soft snore. Suguru was asleep, clinging to the front of Satoru’s now tear-soaked shirt. With a sigh of relief, Satoru laid them back down, adjusting Suguru to lay on his chest so he could keep holding him close.
Suguru had protected his girls for as long as he could, and what he deemed his failure to do so (despite the fact that he was ‘dead’ at the time) was causing him so much pain. Back when they were students, there was no one to protect them from the pain of loss, losing Riko and Misato, then Haibara the year following. They had to fend for themselves, and the toll of being a sorcerer ended up causing their split apart.
They no longer had to worry about being forced to abide by the rules of the elders anymore, nor did they have to worry about impeding executions. Things were getting better for them, but Satoru had forgotten that while Shoko may have healed Suguru, she couldn’t heal emotional wounds. All he wanted was a life where Suguru could smile and laugh truly from the bottom of his heart, but before he could do that, he had to mourn. Satoru would do everything in his power now to protect Suguru from his pain if it was the last thing he’d do, to help him through this.
“I love you,” he whispered, laying his head back onto the pillow. “I always will. Your girls do, too. I never met them, and I wish I could’ve, but I can tell that they love you with every fiber of their being, Sugu,”
Sleep came quickly, the one Satoru wanted to protect the most held safely in his arms.