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It was cold. It made sense considering the time of the year. Gojo privately thinks it would be less cruel if it was snowing. It was not, it seems like the weather chose to not sympathize with him, chose to be cruel in its clear skies and gentle breeze, making it seem like he’s the only one affected by this, and maybe he is.
Suguru is long dead. Gojo knows this. He has watched his best friend slump forward, eyes closed and lips stretched in a soft smile. He refuses to weep. He doesn't know why. It's not as if no one knows he will mourn this death. Everyone knows who Suguru is to him, and in return they know how he meant to Suguru.
The knowledge of their importance to each other is a common known fact. The sky is blue, the grass is green, Gojo Satoru died when Geto Suguru decided to become a mass murderer instead of staying by his friend’s side.
“ You are cruel Suguru '', Gojo managed to whisper, moments later, hours later, when his feet managed to move again, when his eyes stopped feeling like it would leak and never stop. “ very cruel”, he adds, knowing he would have to lift his best friend, his one and only, his Suguru. “Why would you make me do this'', and still he will, hands and feet trembling as he clutches his— Suguru's body close to his own. And alone, he walks
He stayed strong. He did not falter. Not once did he waver even as he laid Suguru on the cold table in the morgue. He did not hesitate to leave even if he knew that it would be the last time he would see his best friend’s face. He smiled and he laughed and he acted as if his life did not just fall apart again as he talked to the children under his guidance.
He refused to break down, not even in the safety of his room. He is no longer a teenager who has received the news that his best friend has decided to annihilate a whole village and took two children under his care. He is not given the same privilege of the safety of the stairs in front of his school with his teacher anymore. He is not allowed to falter for one second, not in the way his teacher allowed him to falter almost a decade ago.
“ this fucking sucks”, he allowed himself a moment of weakness, hands shaking as he grabs his blindfold. There is no time to grieve. There is no time to yearn. There is no time to wish he was seventeen again, a terrible child with a carefree attitude with his best friend by his side.
He is the strongest he has been since he was born. He has no time to stop, to feel. And yet he feels as if the burden of being the strongest becomes heavier the moment that Suguru dies. He walks to the door, he still has things that he needs to do.
Maybe before that, he should think on what to replace his blindfold with. White seems unfitting when it is the last thing that he had when he watched Suguru die.
.
Hours later, maybe days, after he is done yelling at people and done with making sure he has a body to bury, Gojo allows himself a moment to let everything sink in. Suguru is dead, he needs to let go of the sick childish hope that he had for years that Suguru will come back. He never did, and it seems like he never will
“How can i do this without you”, he whispered, the wind carrying his grief as he stood on top, overseeing everything yet no one looking at him. The irony of asking what he would do now that Suguru is gone is not lost to him considering that he spent more years of his life without Suguru than with him. He knows that logically life will stay the same even after they bury the body— Suguru's body— because he had functioned without him.
Gojo felt winded with the realization that there would be no aspect of his life that had to change after Suguru died. He would not have to change his habit, or feel a cold spot on his bed, or throw away a mug in the death of his best friend. It seems like the only thing he gained after he watched Suguru die is the overwhelming numbness that resides in his chest.
Life moves on. He had to watch his students flourish, had to tell them that they are assigned to more missions that could get them killed. He had to send his students with a smile on his face and failure out of his head because if he starts thinking on how the students that he sends away may not come back home, he will lose his mind
He sends kids to make the world a safer place as he marches around, making demands that have never been made before. It seems like a snarl was placed more on his face than any other expression. Maybe making anger as the thing that keeps him going isn't healthy, but the other option is being consumed by the overwhelming grief that he may never stop feeling. So he goes on
“ I do not care if keeping his body intact is a risk. I'm burying him”, it seems like this discussion is still going on . He thought it was done, days ago after he spent hours chewing the higher ups for sending almost nobody even after it was a special grade curse user who had declared a war. “Would you bear the responsibility if someone reanimates Geto Suguru? '' someone asked, and he snarled. “ Who would ?” he demands. As if someone would dare, as if someone would go past him and be successful in mutilating his best friend.
“ You are insolent but you are not stupid Gojo Satoru. You and I both know that Geto Suguru is strong. And he is a bargaining chip against you “ another man said, and he fought the urge to — he doesn't know what he would do but he fought the urge nevertheless. "I will bury the body” he announced, final and confident before he snatched the blindfold in front of him. It was black, another sign of the change in his life after Suguru.
“ One day someone will be successful in reanimating Geto Suguru and he will be used against you. That would mean the end for us “ someone shouted after him. He never bothered telling their voices apart.
“ If that happens, I will make sure the destruction happens in your place at first” he said, careless and childish before he walked out, hands in his pocket.
And he walked away from that oppressive meeting , wondering what he can do in Shibuya before he has to go home and meet his students before arranging for a funeral.