Chapter Text
They turn seventeen at March 20th.
It's not a big party— Sukuna prefers it that way. Less noise, less crowd and less headache to deal with the clean-up later. Yuji feels the same way, no matter how much of a socializing bug his twin can be, he likes being surrounded by just a small gathering of people he cares about on an important day.
Before Gramps died, it has always been him, Gramps and Yuji to celebrate. This year, though, the crowd has increased.
Sukuna considers birthdays to be a hassle; not quite understanding how anyone could be excited on getting older, threading closer to their expiration dates— Yuji called him a negative-nancy. Sukuna called him an idealistic twerp.
Even so, Sukuna lets himself be dragged along with the tradition. No matter how redundant birthday songs are, or how the overly colorful balloons grated his nerves; he can never say no when Yuji pulls him in front of a cake with a lit candle stabbed at the center.
"Why is the birthday boy frowning? Live a little, Suku-chan!"
The voice of his teacher makes Sukuna want to hurl the piece of cake Yuji gave him to the bastard's grinning face. It'd be a fruitless endeavour since his Infinity is always on, but that never wanes Sukuna's desire to try; one of these days, he's going to catch Gojo off-guard, he just needs a distraction.
"Don't annoy him," Megumi chimes in, "The best gift you could give to Sukuna would be to shut up for a day."
Sukuna's lips twitch. "And you know me so well?"
"Idiot," Megumi mumbles, and shyly bumps an elbow on his arm. "Who wouldn't want that as a gift?"
"I wouldn't!"
Sukuna groans. "After that statement, Yuji, I might have to disown myself from this family."
"I think spending time with Gojo-san could be a gift of its own," Yuji says, and says it so earnestly that Sukuna watches the older man soften.
"Aw, Yuji-kun, then I'll try to come over as much as I can," Gojo says, lifting a hand up to ruffle Yuji's pink hair.
"You're the only one who thinks that," Nobara scowls. "I'd be dying from high blood pressure if I have to succumb to Gojo's presence everyday."
"Then you wouldn't be the only one! I've heard the same from Utahime."
Sukuna notices Gojo's hand doesn't move away. It remains tucked around Yuji's shoulders, and every time Yuji attempts to shy away, the arm curls tighter, reluctant to let go.
The party continues with idle chit-chat, most of which are done by Gojo and Yuji, maybe with Nobara at times, but it's mostly those two who fills the silence. Gojo recounts the most eccentric stories from his past, his narcissism shown through his narration— Megumi rolls his eyes, Sukuna clicks his tongue— as his stupid brother nods and registers every word.
He realises, horrified, if he lets them continue hanging out, Yuji might turn into a Gojo clone, and the thought is haunting enough.
Yuji's plate never stops piling. His twin proceeds to grab every badge of food prepared on the table, then dumps it all in a disgusting mesh on his plate. All while Yuji listens to Gojo's inane rambles, continously shoving spoonful on his mouth like a squirrel storing nuts. His cheeks stretches out in immeasurable sizes, swallowing down huge portions without any qualms of choking. He looks like a mess.
"That is gross," Nobara wrinkles his nose. "Slow down, dumbass, the food isn't going to disappear."
"Kugisaki is right," Gojo chortles. "You've got rice all over your face."
"I do?" Yuuji frowns. "Which side?"
"This side." And Gojo is already picking them out of his face.
Sukuna stares. Somewhere on the pit of his stomach, there's a lump he couldn't identify.
"Eh, Fushiguro? Why are you eating so little?" Yuji blinks as he examines Megumi's half-eaten plate.
"I don't eat a lot," he admits.
"That's why he's built like a stick," Sukuna remarks, earning a scoff from the other boy that leaves Sukuna snickering.
"That can't be," his twin mumbles, a twinge of concern. "Is my cooking not that great?"
"No, your cooking is fine, Itadori-san—"
"Here!" Yuji says as he presses his fork on his own plate. "Sukuna is terrible at the kitchen but he's surprisingly good at barbecuing." The piece of cooked meat hovering inches from Megumi's face, while the dark-haired boy is left baffled, glancing at Sukuna as if to ask a silent question if Yuji is being real.
Sukuna shrugs. His twin has an awful, awful tendency of fretting over people, unwanted or not.
Megumi seems to go along with it, accepting his fate and leans over, opening his mouth to eat—
Out of nowhere, Gojo leans down between them, teeth clinking around the silver utensil that Yuji is holding and biting the piece of meat into his mouth. Then straightens back to his full height, chewing in a manner of casualty. "Hm. You're right. 7/10, Sukuna!"
"Gojo-san, that was meant for Fushiguro!" Yuji pouts, while Megumi doesn't appear to mind at Gojo's interruption for once.
Again, that hand curls around Yuji. Those exact fingers Sukuna has watched and people have worshipped and curses have dreaded shows display of unrelenting power, exterminating special-grade spirits without a care for the world, they drape across the nape, thumb caressing gently on the tanned skin of his twin's neck. "I'm sorry, Yuji-kuuunn, I'll make it up to you by letting you feed me more!"
"How is that making up to me?"
"Ehhh? Does Yuji not want me anymore?"
"You two are disgusting," Nobara fake-gags.
For most of the party, Sukuna observes Gojo's hand, making sure to keep his staring as minimally obvious as possible.
It never left Yuuji once.
Yuji walks out his classmates through the door. They couldn't stay for long, having their own personal appointments and Gojo mentioned about the old fucks needing his gracious presence early in the morning. Gojo lets him stay for the night, but Sukuna has to catch the early train next morning.
He walks to his room. The inside is empty, most of his stuff was moved to his dorm, and he's not surprised to find it spotless despite how rarely it's used; Yuji is finnicky when it comes to cleaning after all. Suddenly, he remembers his old room before they moved to Tokyo. Hit by a wave of nostalgia, he recollects waking up by the smell of Yuji preparing breakfast, while the shrill of Gramp's voice screaming at him to hurry up for school—
He shakes his head. When did he get so sentimental?
Must be catching Yuji's germs. Sukuna scowls at the thought, and pockets out his cigarettes, taking a piece and mouthing on the stem.
He remembers how stuffy Yuji can get when he smokes inside so he heads to the window, unlocking it before calling forth his Curse Technique, a lick of flame emerging on the tip of his forefinger, lighting it on.
"—kun is a worrywart."
Sukuna looks ahead, and sees the figures of his teacher and brother standing outside their lawn. The room he's in is on the 2nd floor, the distance far enough that any normal ears wouldn't be able to catch a word from their conversation, but Sukuna has refined his hearing as well as his other senses, pinpointing bits and pieces of their voices.
"But Gojo-san, it's too cold—" too quiet, "— so please accept it."
"—so lucky— Yuji is worried for— must be blessed."
Sukuna rolls his eyes. Yuji is indulging Gojo too much. That man is the last person he needs to worry about getting a little cold.
"—thank you for looking out for Suku— makes me relax to know he's— fun and taking care of himself without me."
Now he's just infantilizing him. Sukuna tsks. He can take care of himself fine without Yuji.
He deliberately ignores the early days of his transfer when Sukuna accidentally broke the washing machine because he didn't knew how it worked, randomly pressing buttons until Sukuna's strength and impatience caused it to break.
But Yuji doesn't need know that.
Sukuna blows a whiff of smoke. He becomes distracted for a moment, interest waning until he looks at them again, his immediate suspicions arose, questioning if they've always been standing that close before or did one of them move? There's at least two feet of distance between them now.
Their voices grow quiet, lowered to a point that they're only mumbling under their breathes. Sukuna couldn't hear a legible word, and instead, resorts to simply being an active observer.
The second Gojo raises a hand towards Yuji, instinctively, Sukuna's body shoots up as if a spirit is on its way to attacking him. His stance becomes defensive, observing Gojo's hand retracting for a moment like he's unsure of where to put it, before they finally settle down to Yuji's hair, the gesture displaying a fondness that Sukuna hasn't seen. It's not the same manner he ruffles Megumi's hair, or Kugisaki, or sometimes, even Sukuna. Those were platonic, acts done by an annoying older brother to their sibling.
But with Yuji, it's an undeniable softness that weaves a weird sensation in Sukuna's stomach.
He doesn't realize the grip he has on the window before it starts to creak under pressure.
What the fuck? Is he seeing things? It is no secret that Gojo and Yuji are both touchy people. With Gojo, he's the type to get into your space and destroy any boundaries you might've hoped to keep because he finds it funny to watch you squirm in discomfort, and Yuji, on the other hand, does it as a way to express affection. Sukuna isn't overly fond of touch, so Yuji learns not to overdo it.
Sukuna hates it at first. Cursing Gojo for touching Yuji so shamelessly, and cursing his brother for responding to his whims every time. But he rationalize it's just Yuji becoming touch-starved, alone by himself and barely having friends except for that one emo-cut guy. Sukuna's reasoning for Gojo's touchy behavior towards his brother is that Yuji's the only person who doesn't push him away unlike everyone.
Now, though, Sukuna isn't so sure anymore.
After Gojo tucks a stray strand behind Yuji's ear— at this point, Sukuna is clenching his teeth— he finally steps back, and leaves.
Sukuna relaxes.
Minutes later, he hears upcoming footsteps before a knock on his door.
"Come in," he mumbles, thoughts still in rambles as Yuji steps inside.
"Suku-ni," Yuji calls. And pokes his head first to the crack of the door— a habit Yuji has never outgrown from childhood. Upon stepping foot, his nose immediately scrunches. "Are you smoking?"
"No, I'm blowing smoke out of my ass. Of course I am."
"Rude! I was wondering if you we could watch a movie. If you're not tired, that is."
Sukuna glances at the tucked pink hair. The same place Gojo laid his hand on.
"Suku-ni?"
"What were you and Gojo talking about earlier?"
"Gojo-san?" Yuji blinks. "Nothing. He just told me not to overwork myself. Focus on school and stuff. Why'd you ask?"
"Nothing," he shrugs and pretends not to notice Yuji's curious gaze. "Sure. Let's go watch a movie."
Yuji hugs him at the station. His grip never changes— still overbearing and warm like a blanket.
Sukuna rolls his eyes, but allows his brother as he is, if he tries to squirm away, Yuji's arms would latch onto him more and more. "I'm not leaving forever, you know?"
"I know," comes a mumble against his chest. "You've grown a few inches. The top of my head only reaches your chin now."
From his tone, Sukuna could tell he's pouting, tone whiny like Sukuna's growth spurt is an offense against him.
"Brat." He elbows him to move.
Yuji bites his lips, looking hesitant as he reviews something in his head. Sukuna waits for him to speak. "I get this strange feeling whenever you leave," he admits after a pause, "It's funny, right? You're just going to school and I'm making a huge deal out of it. But every time you step into that train, I feel like you're stepping in a different world that I can't go. Am I crazy?"
"Maybe," Sukuna answers, the usual growl on his voice lightened.
"Maybe," he echoes, then lets out an exasperated laugh like he's being silly. His shoulders no longer tense, he must have had this thought for a while and is relieved from its burden. "Sorry, I'm being overdramatic. I get how that frustrates you a lot—"
"It's fine."
"Is it?"
"It is," he reassures.
Yuji looks at him. Sickenly honey eyes enveloping Sukuna's darker ones. "And you're not hiding things from me?"
"I'm not."
The first time he met Gojo was nearly two years ago, it was in a darkened alleyway filled with piss and shit. Ever since Gramps died, Sukuna had to be the rock that would keep him and Yuuji from falling into the bottom of society. Even if it means joining illegal fighting rings, holding shady deals with gangs, and skipping classes.
Someone had to pay the bills, and they didn't have any relatives that could take them in either.
Sukuna wasn't the type to ignore his instincts, his keen ability for perceiving danger was what kept him alive and avoided getting shank on his back. When he sensed that the air grew thick, atmosphere charged with an unnerving intensity as if a presence was standing right behind him— turning around, he shot a spear of flames without a thought to aim, doing it in the intent of intimidating rather than hurting.
To his shock, they only bounce off and diminish from existence. He couldn't see the bastard, but any common man would cower at the sight of a freakishly tall figure with shadows draping the entirety of his form. Sukuna merely raised a brow.
"Man, those flames are hot!" a deep, saccharine voice crooned, not at all phased by what occured. "You'd easily kill a human if you're not careful."
Sukuna snarled. "You say as if you aren't human yourself."
"You'd be surprised." Even under the dull lighting, his grin was noticeable. Sharp, almost baring his teeth at Sukuna dangerously.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Gojo Satoru. I'd like to make an offer for you."
It sounded too good to be true. The offer was to move to a city, given a new shelter with all the groceries and bills paid if Sukuna would simply transfer into a sketchy school that was far from normal society and beside the fucking mountains.
If he didn't just see Gojo dismiss his flames a few minutes ago, he would've called it a sham and spat on the bastard's blindfold.
"And what's the catch?"
"The catch is you would have to go through assigned missions that may or may not cost you your life."
Sukuna narrowed his eyes. "How did you know I was a sorcerer?"
"Funny enough that you asked. A few weeks ago, I was given a mission to exorcise a bunch of A-grade curses. Once I arrived to my stop, however, someone has already done the job for me! Though, they definitely outdid themselves a bit too far because the building was on fire, and left nothing but rubble."
"Those ugly freaks are called curses?" Ever since Sukuna could see them when he was 10, he'd been calling them freaks or little bastards in his head.
"So it was you!" Gojo chirped. "I've been scanning these streets looking for you. Your curse energy is impressive. There's a lot of potential in you we can cultivate." He threaded closer, shoving his face towards Sukuna, and despite the lack of eyes, Sukuna's insides felt exposed. Hating the vulnerability, he bared his teeth and snarled. The other man didn't care, mouth curved in an 'o' as he continued to revaluate him. "Right off the bat, you could easily rise to the ranks and be a 2nd-grade sorcerer, maybe semi-1st?"
"Listen, old man—"
"Does this face look old to you?"
Sukuna gritted his teeth, and continued, "I'll accept your terms, but there's one thing I want to add."
Gojo tilted his head. "Oh? Let's hear it then."
"I'm not leaving my brother alone. Either he comes with me or I stay here."
"Of course he could! The school would provide him an apartment while you'll be staying at the dorms."
"I also won't tell him shit about my job."
Gojo didn't appear surprised by that. "Keeping secrets is part of being a sorcerer. Our job needs to be protected by the public eye. Not telling your brother has always been a given."
"Still," Sukuna said. "How the fuck are you going to convince him about moving out without making it seem suspicious or a scam?"
"Just leave it to me!"
And Sukuna did. Not because he trusted Gojo or considered him reliable by any means but more so he didn't have a choice. Gojo sounded too casual when he mentioned the 'you could literally die from this' part, and Sukuna wondered how many more youths he'd recruited into becoming altruistic fools.
He thought about Yuji. Imagining a world where he was a sorcerer and that what-if scenario alone made him tick. Sukuna was beyond relieved Yuji wasn't a sorcerer— he'd die the first chance he got.
The next time Sukuna saw Gojo again, Sukuna was heading home, key jamming to the door as he heard a sprang of laughter coming from the living room.
At first, Sukuna assumed Yuji must be watching garbage horror films with his occult-club friends again, but no, it was much worst.
"Suku-ni!" Yuji greeted. "You've got a visitor."
"Fuck no," Sukuna told him. Red eyes glaring at Gojo who's lounging lazily against the couch. "He's unwanted."
"How meaaannn, Suku-chan!"
Sukuna didn't react. "Why are you here?"
"He's been waiting for you," Yuji explained. "Said that he's going to tell us something important."
They moved to the dining hall, and Gojo went on about the same things he said to Sukuna that night. Of course, purposely missing out on a few key details and leaving it entirely vague.
At the end of his explanation, Yuji was vibrating.
"You have to take it, Suku-ni. It'll be such a huge opportunity! You'll be able to go to Tokyo—"
"You'll be coming too, Yuji-kun!" Gojo added.
"Me?" Yuji frowned, confused. "I thought the offer was meant for Suku-ni?"
"Actually, me and Sukuna have already discussed this," Gojo said, "He'd say yes if you come to Tokyo with him. The school would give you an apartment, including all the expenses paid."
Yuji was speechless. His eyes blown wide, and he sat still for a few seconds before bumping shoulders with Sukuna, whispering, "This isn't a scam, right?"
Sukuna snorted. "No, it isn't. But that was my first thought too. He does look like a sketchy mother fucker."
Gojo gasped dramatically, hand on his chest, feigning hurt. "Me? Sketchy? I'm a fountain of innocence!"
"Not with that damn blindfold, you aren't," Sukuna jeered, and felt a light jab on his side.
"That's rude," his twin shot him a look of disapproval.
Huffing, he turned to the wall beside him, arms crossed.
Gojo chortled, and didn't sound offended. "It's fine, Yuji-kun. Just for today, I'll bring it down!"
A second later, he heard Yuji let out a sharp breathe. "Whoa."
What? Is he that ugly?
Sukuna spun his head towards Gojo and—
Ugh. He scowled. On second thought, he'd much prefer the blindfold on.
Unlike his brother, who continued to stare, jaw agape in awe, Sukuna's distrust for Gojo grew more. His eyes, while striking, were windows of blue, cloudless skies. They stare in you, rather at you.
Sukuna stomped Yuji's foot from under the table. Yuji flinched, snapping out of his trance.
Soon enough, Yuji realised what he did and stood up abruptly, face blasting with color. Embarassed, he stuttered, "Uh, I'll go make us some tea—" then dashed to the counter, grabbing a kettle and deliberately not looking at Gojo's direction.
Gojo chuckled. "Your brother is cute."
He grunted in response.
Gojo sighed forlornly. Elbows propping to the table as he cupped his cheeks. "Kind of wish he was my student. He's very sweet."
Now, Sukuna was glaring again. "Don't say disgusting things."
The older man didn't respond, simply observing Yuji's form with rising interest.
From there, Sukuna decided he hated him.
Sukuna is promoted to special-grade sorcerer.
Gojo spills the news to them. Nobara rolls her eyes, proclaiming him a bastard who got the promotion by luck. Megumi doesn't appear too surprised by the news, and only nods in congrats to Sukuna.
He's not the only who risen to the ranks. Gojo mentions Maki got promoted to semi-1st grade, alongside Nobara and Megumi.
"You understand the risks, right?" Gojo says, and beneath the layer of his teacher's childish tone, he's being serious with Sukuna for once. "You'll be in high-demand. Your missions will be more dangerous, and you'll have to travel farther locations."
"I know what I'm getting myself into," he grits out. "You don't have to remind me."
Gojo isn't finish, and adds, "That also means less time to spend with Yuji."
Sukuna pauses.
The first question which comes to mind is why do you care so much about Yuji?
But he stops himself, holding his tongue because Gojo does have a point. He only ever sees his brother once per month and his demand to the higher-ups for more hours to visit was thoroughly rejected.
Sukuna shuts his eyes, rubbing his nose. "I'll give him a call later."
He leaves his office, and notices Nobara and Megumi are still standing outside.
"What else are you all waiting here for?"
"You, dumbass," Nobara answers, rolling her eyes. "Since all of us got a promotion. Wouldn't this be a high time to celebrate with a trip to the mall?"
"I'm not carrying your shopping bags, ugly hag."
"Haah? Who the hell are you calling ugly?" Nobara's scowl turns feral, then she tugs the back of Megumi's collar who's been caught trying to escape. "And where do you think you're going, Fushiguro? Did you think I was asking?"
"I'm going to my room," Megumi states flatly.
Sukuna puts a foot closer. "You're not the boss of me."
Nobara pulls her hammer out threateningly. "I believe you'd find that I am."
"Oh yeah?" Sukuna's fingers flex from an idea of a fight. "Then let's see for ourselves—"
A fist collides onto his head. The jolt of pain is enough to mildly stun him, the curse energy he releases disappearing from the air. Once he recovers, he throws the meanest glare. "Fu-shi-gu-ro Me-gu-mi," he voices out, spitting venom in each syllable, "What was that for?"
Megumi doesn't crumble under his stare, and responds back with a deadpanned look of his own. "Quit starting fights, let's just go, Sukuna."
"Yeah, stop acting like a drama queen," Nobara adds.
"I said I'm not going. That is final."
He ends up going.
Nobara manhandles him to the mall, and threatens him with her hammer if he drops at least one of her bags. He stirs in his own annoyance, grumbling for most of the duration.
"That waitress with the dyed hair left you her number," Nobara points out once they all sat down on the table, waiting for their respective orders. "It's under your glass."
A small paper with a phone number and a name—Sasaki— is written. Sukuna raises a brow. "Huh."
"You going to call her?" Nobara grins.
In the corner of his eyes, he swears he saw Megumi stiffen.
Sukuna pulls it out with two fingers. The paper burns, and disintegrates to nothing.
"That's cruel," Nobara says, but is only amused. "She's not your type?"
Lips perking in a smirk, he eyes Megumi up, and pleasure sparks when the other boy turns away, flushing. "Not in the slightest."
Later that night, he calls Yuji.
"Promotion?"
"Yeah," Sukuna says, laying down with his free arm tucked behind his head. It'll significantly rise my allowance. It's enough that you don't have to work part-time anymore, you could focus on your studies instead."
"Yeah... I'd rather not to," Yuji admits. "I love working there. The owner teaches me recipes. I've been learning how to bake lately, so I'd prefer to keep working, Suku-ni."
"Do whatever you want," he shrugs. "Wouldn't it hinder your grades though?"
"I'm sure I can manage!"
"...one more thing."
"Yeah?"
"I won't be able to visit a lot because of it," he finally says, and the radio silence he receives soon after isn't unexpected, but it doesn't stop him from worrying. "Are you fine with that?"
"Truthfully?" A deep sigh resonates. "I'm not. But there isn't much we can do. Dropping out isn't an option, it'd be a waste too. I'm... I'll be fine on my own, Suku-ni."
Sukuna frowns. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." There's a slight hesitation before he continues, "I've got Junpei here. And Gojo-san visits once in a while."
Yuji's gentle laughter rumbles through the phone, hearing Sukuna scoff. "He's not so bad."
"No, he's even worst. Sometimes I feel like you're his favorite student."
"How is that possible? I don't even go to your school, Sukuna."
"Exactly," is his annoyed response. "He's...different around you."
Yuji is quiet. "How so?"
"I don't know." With you, he's soft, and I can't tell if that's a good thing or bad. "Just different."
"Oh." If Sukuna doesn't know any better, Yuji almost sounded hopeful. "Maybe you're imagining things."
And is he, really?
"Maybe," he echoes. And turns to his clock. "I'll leave you to sleep. Night, brat."
"Night, Suku-ni."