Work Text:
The cool air nips at his skin, the evening September wind relentless as winter draws near. But your apartment is warm, homey, and it smells just like you, mixed with freshly cut vegetables. Suguru barely withholds himself from taking a deep breath, closing his eyes to reimagine and rebuild a broken past that was once his, that had once promised a shining future with you.
"I was wondering when you'd eventually get in."
Your voice is as icy as the weather outside. It's steady, unbreaking and that was unexpected because Suguru expected it to be fickle, edging on a full cry of sorrow if not softly melancholic in its tone. You had always been gentle, unafraid of showing vulnerability and full of honesty. Maybe he guessed wrong. You're not even looking at him, back towards him and still chopping up the scallions for a late night dinner.
"That's funny. I was wondering when you'd eventually invite me," he quips, shoulders square, hands deep in his pockets.
He sees you shake your head, shoulders shaking in a snort, "As if. In your dreams."
It's quiet once more, save for the steady motions and beat of your knife hitting the chopping board. Ah, that's right. It's been nearly two years after he's been labeled as the worst special grade curse user in recent history. You still fight alongside Satoru as a sorcerer and you're still best friends with Shoko. Suguru meanwhile had begun fostering a new family of his own, each member a promising curse user that furthered his ideals for a better world.
You both stand at different ends now, your paths diverged with a faithful choice.
Now, where you had lost him to the insanity of it all. Now where he was rejected from taking you with him. Now where the could-be-lovers are now strangers wearing familiar faces.
Now where he had once been casually following behind you some days, he can only stand at an opposite building to watch you read and drink tea from your balcony.
And now he found himself breaking that self-imposed distance after years of watching over you from afar.
He watches your hands move fluidly across the counter, preparing a meal for two. He wants to pretend that it's for him, that you'd ask him to stay and share the meal like the old times. Have a ground of peace, a truce, where you can both play pretend for a moment. Pretend your youth had not been stolen away from you, pretend that you were not responsible for bearing the sins of humanity, pretend that you do not suffer from it.
"You should leave," you tell him after a tense silence, maneuvering to the sink to wash potatoes, "He won't like this."
There's fresh flowers on the vase and ceramic bowls and plates set out to be arranged.
Even without a clear indication of who and why, he knows the answer already.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he replies, firm, steady just like he had always been, even when he was bordering the edge of insanity. Maybe one day, he can. One day when he accepts that you both will never meet eye to eye like you once had. Maybe if you keep your back turned to him, it would be easier when he has to.
"Yeah?" you mutter, and there's something cynical about it, something venomous and bitter that reflects on your face as you finally turn around to meet him.
So different from the girl who always did her best to keep smiling during the worst of times.
Suguru keeps himself from closing his eyes, from avoiding the sight of you permanently scarred because of him. His breath rattles in his chest, bringing to life the unbearable pain he shoulders every time he sees you.
The jagged line that runs from your temple diagonally under your right eye to your jaw has healed significantly. You nearly died during that night Suguru had killed (murdered) 112 villagers, just to stop him, just to bring him home, just to hold him away from going off the deep end.
But you never stood a chance against a special grade sorcerer. You weren't even meant to be with him that day...
Satoru was furious when he found you in the backseat of the manager's car, barely breathing, covered in so much blood while holding the golden button with Jujutsu High’s insignia that Suguru left with you.
You click your tongue at his silence, at the stoic way he stares right back at you. Deep down, you knew he could never hurt you again, maybe somewhere beneath his insanity and genocidal urges, he was still that young teenage boy with tenderness in his heart. Maybe somewhere he was still that same boy who'd playfully flick his hair tie to your face. Maybe he was still the one who'd make your heart race each time his knuckles brush your jaw when fixing the collar of your uniform.
"Thought so," you scoff, turning back to your station so you don't fall back into his copper eyes, "Now, please, we'll settle this outside but not tonight."
"Would things have been different if I had said yes?"
The question startles you, and you peer over your shoulder to find him standing firm in his spot. You look away when you find the softness in his gaze.
"A little too late to discuss and find out, don't you think," you murmur quietly, because you already feel your throat squeeze.
"You didn't answer my question."
The seriousness in his tone makes you shudder and you hope he doesn't see it.
"Because it doesn't matter now," you quip. You knew the answer, but it even hurt to acknowledge it. But even if you were wrong, would it have been better to know you have what you couldn't? That even if it doesn't work out, you'd still have him? "You made your choice and I made mine."
"I would never be happy if I did--" he answers.
You close your eyes and press your lips together, the benumbed pain scratched open once more.
"--but it wouldn't matter because I would have--”
--had you.
But he stills himself, “--it wouldn’t be like this.”
You allow yourself to release a shaky breath, your vision blurring while the blood pumping quickly through your veins nauseates you. Your back feels warmer, Suguru stands closely behind you. His hands are at his sides now, the pockets no longer his restraint to touch you but would it be too cruel? Did it matter? Maybe just this once. Just now. His hands hover at your sides, his arms aching to just hold and crush you into his being. Maybe you'd yelp in pain and he'd wake up from this long nightmare.
"You left us," you whimper, and his fingers stop short of touching you. "I asked you to stay, I begged-- and…and you left us--"
His hands fall back into his pocket, your head sinking into your shoulders in defeat.
"--you left me."
He did and that day had become a nightmare he convinced himself was his dream.
Suguru leaves you.
Satoru comes home later. He pauses in the doorway of your apartment. Your apartment is warm, homey, and it smells just like you. He doesn't ask why there's a lingering cloud of Suguru's cursed energy, why dinner isn't ready, or why the chopped ingredients are abandoned by the sink. He doesn't fuss over the details when he sees you crumpled up on the floor with a kitchen knife beside you, still in that maid apron he jokingly bought you months ago.
Instead, he drops his boxed chocolates, rushes over to your side and picks you up. He asks if you're hurt, checks your skin for any bruises or cuts. He cradles your jaw tenderly, the only signs of pain are the tracks of tears spilled and dried across ruddy cheeks. He holds you to his chest, still sitting on the kitchen floor, leaning against the island.
Satoru doesn't ask you any more questions, wordlessly ordering take out. He anchors you in his hold the rest of the night and you do the same for him by never leaving his arms.
"If you're not happy, then at least stay. We'll figure it out," you're pleading, fisting the edge of his shirt tightly, "We'll be okay, just please stay. Yaga-sensei will think of something! Heck even Gojo-"
Suguru shakes his head with a sad smile, gently clasping your wrist, "It will never be okay if I stay."
Your cheeks flare in anger. What an incredibly selfish thing to say. Nevertheless you cling on to him, hoping that somehow this physical hold would ground him.
"Then," you sputter through your tears, the boy you love merely a mess of black, beige, and white, "Then you don't have to stay."
You take a step closer, taking in the smell of cedar and chamomile fouled by the pungent sting of decay and deterioration, "Let's--just--let's run! Let's run away together."
Suguru's eyes widen, his hold loosening as you press yourself against his chest, "Yeah! Let's do that- fuck jujutsu sorcery! Fuck the higher ups! Fuck sorcerers! Fu-...Fuck it all, let's be normal people. We--we could change our names. Let's live somewhere else. I know- we--don't have money but--it's okay. We can figure it out as long as we are together, right?"
You had so much faith in him. He doesn't think he could love you any more right in this moment. You loved him that much. He just wanted to sink into you, let you swallow him whole along with the curses he had. Maybe you could purge him of the sins he bears with humanity, maybe you would be where he starts clean.
But he doesn't have as much faith in himself like you had.
"No," he tells you softly, fingers trembling in effort, "We can't.
Suguru had once been told that when one dies, their lives would flash through their very eyes, that they would relive the parts they regretted.
And that was his. That day he left you.
His mouth sputters blood, head spinning between the gaping hole in his chest as he leans against the wall.
He sees his best friend, the very man he would once give his life for had taken his.
Satoru's fingers tremble from where they extended towards him, the smoke of the debris drifts and floats clearing away to show the glassiness in his starlight gaze. The sorcerer's other hand is curled protectively around your head, burying you into his chest so you don't watch. Even as his vision fades, Suguru sees you're trembling and curling your fingers into Satoru's jacket.
The boy always had a crush on you, yet out of his devotion to his best friend he let himself stay at a distance while Suguru was around. Suguru smirks bitterly. Cruel, isn’t it? The two people who would give it all for him, left him.
No, Suguru left them.He chose to leave you and Satoru.
Contrary to what people once told you, Satoru was indeed the better match for you in the end.
Perhaps because even as he floats in between the universe and infinity with the status of a god, Satoru would never leave you to pursue an ideal that would mean the salvation of his kind.
Perhaps that was one thing overlooked between the two best friends. Gojo Satoru was extremely selfish while Getou Suguru was hopelessly selfless.
Satoru was selfish enough to choose you over a dying world while Suguru would sacrifice you for a dying world.
You dare pull away from the safety of Satoru's chest, eyes already watering and sorrowful as you mourn over the man that could have been yours if only he hadn't been cursed.
Suguru allows himself to cry, something he had not done ten years when he turned away from you. There's a lone tear streaking across his blood stained cheek, finally and simply happy his last sight was you. You, secure and safe with the only person he could trust. He heard you were pregnant too.
You would have made a wonderful mother for the twins too.
Suguru closes his eyes. In living, he's already seen how his vision of the world had played out when he said no. So for now, he envisions how things would have been different if he had said yes.
"Would things have been different if I had said yes?"
He wouldn't be happy but then he'd figure it out because maybe you were right. It would have been okay as long as you were together, cause he had you.