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“Hey. There’s little curses over there,” Megumi says from atop Gojo’s shoulders, pointing to their right where two bipedal cyclops curses lurk, both standing roughly about four feet tall and chittering in that garbled, distorted way that curses always chitter in that neither Gojo nor Megumi will ever get used to.
“Suguru, will you handle it for me?” Gojo says absentmindedly before he can stop himself, rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses at the thought of having to put Megumi down just to cull two weak ass curses that can barely be considered grade fours. When he realizes his mistake, his whole body jolts and goosebumps prick his arms.
“Huh? Who’s Suguru?”
“Nothing,” Gojo replies too quickly and lifts Megumi up from his shoulders and places him down to stand on the sidewalk, “No one. Don’t worry, I got ‘em!”
Gojo grins at the boy before walking over to where the curses are standing and exorcizes them swiftly, weak enough that even Megumi could’ve done it no sweat if he were on his own. He stuffs his hands in his pockets once he’s done and turns back to Megumi.
“I’m hungry. Let's go get some food. Are you hungry?” Gojo deflects, grabbing the boy's hand with one of his own and leading him away from the lamppost the curses had just been lurking at.
“I’m a little hungry. Who’s Suguru, Gojo?” Megumi asks again. For a kid that doesn’t like to ask questions, he’s being particularly nosy and pushy about Gojo’s verbal slip up.
Suguru was someone who Gojo could hold and be held by, someone who he could love and kiss and admire shamelessly because he thought he had all the time in the world to do so. He was someone he could share a bed and clothes and a meal with not because he needed to, but just because he wanted someone to share such things with.
“Are you going through that phase that little kids go through where they only ask questions they don’t need to know the answers to?” Gojo tries to joke but his voice sounds more venomous even to his own ears than he meant to let it sound, so he grins down at Megumi’s scowling face to try to ease the tension, but lets his expression drop after a moment anyways. He shifts his gaze back ahead of them for a handful of minutes. Megumi doesn’t expect him to answer his question, but to his surprise Gojo starts speaking again.
“Suguru was my best friend. My one and only. We were the strongest together, and then a bunch of bad stuff happened, and then I alone was the strongest. We fought, he left, and I haven't seen him since.”
“Oh,” Megumi looks down at his sneakers awkwardly as they come up to stop at a crosswalk, “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. When we were out on missions together, I'd have him handle small fry curses like those if I was already busy with another one, so it was just a habit to ask him to get those two while I was holding you, I guess.”
“Lazy.”
“Hey!” Gojo squawks and leads Megumi forward across the street, still gripping his little hand, “I’m not lazy! I’m resourceful! I'm the strongest, you know!”
“You’re still lazy. You never pick up your socks or wash your dishes when you’re done eating,” he reiterates.
“Yeah, but I can pick you and Tsumiki up at the same time. One kid per arm is an impressive feat!”
“I guess you’re strong and lazy then.”
“Not lazy! Just strong! Strong!” Gojo insists and jostles Megumi's arm, waving their arms around comically in their mock argument. The boy scowls at the teenager and tries to pull his hand away, but Gojo keeps a tight grip on it.
“Stop shaking my arm,” he bites, speaking like he’s a rabid pitbull rather than a three foot tall first grader, “I want udon.”
“Udon’s fine, but let’s get ice cream afterwards. We can bring some of both home to Tsumiki, too.”
“Okay,” Megumi replies. His face is devoid of any emotion for the time being. He stays silent as the two walk along until he speaks up again, “Are you sad?”
The question catches Gojo completely off guard, “Huh?”
“About your friend. Are you sad that he left?” the boy reiterates, craning his neck up to look at Gojo.
“Uh.”
Gojo doesn’t know how to respond to the question. Since Suguru left, about roughly half a year ago (exactly seven months and four days ago he left, but who’s keeping count?) he hasn’t confided in anyone; Not Shoko, Yaga, Nanami, anyone, about how he felt about it, what he thought. How he still feels about it, what he still thinks.
The knowledge that Suguru is still out there. The never ending curiosity of what he’s doing, what he’s currently up to, if he’s happier doing whatever he does now (Gojo can’t think about it , can’t think about who he’s killed, if he’s killed more civilians since then, the what-if of if he even has since the village, if he massacres new victims quick and painlessly or if he makes them suffer, what curse he uses to do it, if he watches the life bleed from their eyes, if he forces them to give birth to new curses just for him to swallow them down and build his cache. He can’t wonder about how cruel Suguru might be towards his victims (if there are any new ones (he hopes to god there aren’t any new ones)) because that Geto isn’t the same as His Suguru) than he was at Jujutsu Tech, and if he isn’t happy, if he’s at least safe; if he’s eating again, if he’s put weight back on, if he can keep his meals down without debilitating nausea and bathroom trips to projectile vomit hunched over a toilet bowl, if he’s sleeping good at night in a warm and comfortable bed, if he’s got clothes on his back. Suguru constantly weighs on his mind. He eats him alive at night.
Sometimes, on better nights, he wonders about Suguru’s girls that Shoko told him about and what they’re like, if he spoils them rotten (like Gojo knows he does) or if they’re just like bratty little siblings to him, like how Gojo and Megumi are. He wonders (knows) if it makes him happier to take care of and protect those two than it did being a sorcerer with him. (He knows it makes Suguru happier. The better nights always leave him with a sour taste in his mouth by the end of them, sore and wishing that taking care of and protecting Gojo meant as much to him as it does to do it for those girls.)
“I was sad when he left, yeah.”
“Are you still?”
“Megumi…”
“Come on. I wanna know. I'd be really sad if Tsumiki and I got in a fight and she left me, but I'm not the strongest sorcerer, you are. I just wanna know if you’re sad still.”
Gojo hesitates for a beat, two beats, the udon stall (the one that he and Suguru liked to frequent with Nanami and Haibara) that he likes to frequent comes into view two blocks down and he releases Megumi’s hand to fish his wallet out of his pocket.
“Ugh… Yes, Megumi, I am still sad.”
“Are you sad, or are you super sad?” he asks, and he reaches up to hold onto Gojo’s uniform shirt as they come up to another crosswalk, Gojo placing his hand on his shoulder blades as they cross to guide him forward and dropping it again to resume digging bills out of his wallet.
“I’m super sad.”
Gojo’s blinking back tears (as much as he hates to admit it) when they reach the udon stall, using digging in his wallet as an excuse so he doesn’t have to look at Megumi, and Megumi doesn’t look at him either, instead letting his eyes rove over the menu as he says, with one hundred percent certainty in his little first grade boy voice, “Then I’ll beat him up for you.”
The abruptness of his statement, the absurdity of saying it so seriously before ordering himself a bowl of sweet potato udon with extra broth startles a short bark of laughter out of Gojo, and he wipes away an invisible tear (real tear) from under his eyes for the dramatics of it (so he doesn’t burst out sobbing in front of the man who considers Gojo to be a regular customer now) as he orders a bowl for himself and a to-go bowl to take home to Tsumiki. He pays for all three and sits on the curb next to Megumi.
“Then you’ll have to train crazy hard and get stupid strong, bud,” He tells him.
“Of course I do. You guys were the strongest together, after all.”
“Damn straight!” Gojo grins and jostles his shoulders gently, causing Megumi to shoot a scowl at him (again), and they both eat their noodles in comfortable silence. That night, Megumi falls asleep to some foreign film Shoko recommended to Gojo with his head resting on Gojo’s right shoulder and Tsumiki’s head on his left thigh, hogging the biggest throw blanket to herself and leaving Gojo and Megumi to share the small one. He wonders if Suguru ever does the same with his girls; if he lets them stay up too late and watch movies together with him and hog a big blanket, leaving him with a too small one, until they’re too exhausted to keep their eyes open any longer. He wonders if Suguru ever thinks about him, too.