Chapter Text
“I want to… stay with everyone a bit longer!” Riko Amanai cries out, tears streaming down her face. “I want to go to more places and see more things with everyone…” She pauses and Suguru smiles a fond, genuine smile that he usually reserves for Satoru and Shoko. Clutching her school uniform as though it were a lifeline while she cries, Suguru is struck once again by the fact that she is just a child. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that he and Satoru are only a few years older than that. “... More! I want more!”
Of course, he and Satoru had already expected this outcome. Suguru holds out his calloused hand to the sobbing girl in front of him. “Riko… let’s go home.”
A single gunshot rings out through the room.
For a single beat, Suguru and Riko stare at each other, shell shocked and wide eyed. One side of Riko’s bangs are shorter. And singed. Her bangs are shorter and singed.
The bullet barely missed her.
It is that realization that has Suguru leaping into action, summoning his curses and turning a fighting stance towards the source of the bullet.
At the entrance, he sees the man from before. The sinking feeling in his stomach that formed when Satoru was stabbed begins to unfurl into panic as he evaluates the situation. Satoru said he would handle him, so if he’s not dead then where is Satoru? Suguru takes a deep breath despite his anxiety. He has to focus on the current situation. He has to protect Riko.
The man isn’t turned towards where he and Riko stand. Instead, his back is to them, staring at something in the corridor that Suguru can’t see.
Suddenly, a blinding red beam shoots through the air. The man jumps into the air just in time to dodge it, causing it to hit the wall behind him, reducing it to rubble.
He’s never seen the exact technique before, but Suguru’s witnessed enough failed attempts to recognize it for what it is: Satoru’s cursed technique reversal. He’s alive . Suguru breathes a sigh of relief and strikes at the man, who is landing in the middle of the room near them, with his Rainbow Dragon. Seemingly effortlessly, the man jumps up and drags his knife along the iridescent spine. Violet blood spews from one of his strongest curses.
The man turns to him with a cocky grin, but before he can say anything, a red beam shoots at him once again. This time, the assassin fails to dodge it and is blown back into the already destroyed wall. As Suguru turns around, all of his earlier panic comes back at full force.
Satoru stands at the entrance of the room. Blood drips down from his forehead, his eyes, his mouth. His tattered shirt is splattered with it. Even more concerning, his glassy eyes are blown wide and bloodshot as though he were high. HIs mouth is hanging open and smiling so wide he half expects it to tear in two.
Is that really him?
“Satoru,” he calls out to him, his unease sinking into the single word.
At that, Satoru turns to look at him. His smile drops into a vacant expression. Were it anyone else, Suguru would think that he wasn’t really processing anything around him. Suguru knows better though, knows that Satoru is taking in every single miniscule detail around him. Knows that he has no choice in the matter.
Now that he has Satoru’s attention, Suguru isn’t even sure what to say. Are you okay? What happened? Is that really you in there or did you die and come back as a curse? Is that really you or did you die and come back wrong? All seemed either too much or not enough. They all tasted like bile wiped up with a rag on his tongue.
“You’re a monster!” Ah. Beaten to the punch by a man that should be dead. Satoru turned his head back to where the assassin was now getting to his feet. His uncanny smile returns. From this distance, Suguru can still see that the man is about to attack with his chains.
Satoru is only staring ahead at him and smiling. Something was wrong. Something was so very wrong that Suguru could feel it in his bones. In his soul.
It’s still Satoru.
Because it is still Satoru, Suguru still trusts him.
Suguru lurches forward to grab Riko, who had passed out on the floor from the force of Satoru’s first attack, and quickly retreats to the corridor behind Satoru just as the assassin begins to swing his chains around the room. He places her down gently but does not move from his position. He has a hunch about Satoru’s next move, and if he’s right, then his presence will only hinder him.
Satoru jumps up and floats in the air. For a moment, he looks almost serene. He almost looks like a god. It is that, more than anything else, that makes Suguru feel like his lungs are caving in.
“Throughout heaven and earth… I alone am the honored one,” Satoru says, still just floating in the air.
Exactly as Suguru had anticipated, the Gojo clan's most secret and powerful technique, Hollow Purple, blasts through the air.
As Satoru places his feet on the ground, the assassin stands with a gaping hole in his side.
“So, any last words?”
“..Nope,” the man says, yet continues to talk, “In two or three years, my kid will be sold off to the Zen’in family. Do as you please.” Then, finally, finally , the monster’s eyes close and he falls to the ground. Soundlessly, Satoru just stands there, staring at the corpse for far longer than necessary.
Cautiously, Suguru approached him.
“It felt good, Suguru,” Satoru says before he can say anything himself. “Killing him. It felt so right. I didn’t care about anything else.” Satoru looks over at him with vacant eyes, and Suguru forgets how to breathe. “But now I can’t feel anything.” He looks at Suguru like he’s lost. Like he doesn’t know what to do now.
Suguru can’t help but think that despite being covered in blood, he looks so much younger than he really is right now. He’s only sixteen. They’re both only sixteen.
Satoru killed a man.
Satoru killed a man and can’t feel anything.
Satoru killed a man who was trying to kill them. There’s a meaning to that.
“You did the right thing, Satoru. Riko would be dead if you hadn’t been here.” He means it, but his words still don’t feel like enough. Nothing he could say right now would feel like enough when faced with Satoru like this.
“The right thing,” Satoru merely echoes, voice sounding so small. Suguru doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything, just grabs Satoru’s arm with the intent to tug on it to get him moving, but instead he recoils when he is met with Satoru’s infinity technique.
Not once since he and Satoru became friends has he ever not been able to touch Satoru. Even though they never spoke of it directly, they both understood what that meant. They were always on the same page. Until now.
Satoru just continues to stare at him despondently. Suguru’s seen him when he’s overworked himself or when the sheer amount of information his six eyes provides overwhelms him. It makes him tired and quiet in a way he rarely is. But even then, Suguru has never seen him quite as still as this. Suguru hasn’t seen him blink since he got here. Once again, he is struck with the thought that something is terribly wrong.
He doesn’t allow himself a second more to dwell on Satoru’s infinity, instead, he begins to form a plan. Rather, he begins to amend the plan they originally had for running away with Riko. Before, they had intended to simply run off with her and Kuroi, knowing full well that they would be branded curse users and exiled by the school. Both of them had full confidence in their abilities to keep Riko away from Tengen long enough for the merger to pass and to fight off anyone that came after them. Even if it meant they would have had to fight Tengen himself. They were the strongest, after all.
Now though? They were both injured and exhausted from the toll of the fight with the assassin. Not to mention what was happening with Satoru. Suguru doubted he would be reliable in a fight with the way his eyes were periodically unfocusing and his legs were wobbling slightly.
No, they couldn’t trust in their abilities to fight anyone off right now, but this whole ordeal had given Suguru an even better idea. He pulls out his phone, absentmindedly noting that he somehow got blood on the clear case, and opens his private messages with Shoko.
Suguru: hey, can you come down to the corridors
Shoko: …
Shoko: i don’t wanna get involved with whatever stupid shit u 2 are pulling
Despite the circumstances, Suguru can’t help but huff out a laugh at her inherent distrust of them. Though, it only made him feel worse for what he was about to say.
Suguru: riko amanai and her caretaker were killed by an assassin
Suguru: satoru and i are both injured
Shoko: fuck. ill be there in 15. dont bleed out b4 i get there
Suguru: aye aye
Suguru pockets his phone and looks over at Satoru. Studies the way his white hair falls over his forehead. The way he still hasn’t blinked. He wants answers, desperately. But he also knows that now isn’t the time or place to get them. He has to wait until Shoko looks them over and they get far away from the school. Then, he’ll force Satoru to rest, even if he has to knock him out himself, and question him about everything that happened in the ten minutes between when the assassin first stabbed him and when they both showed up down here.
With any luck, a little rest will fix Satoru right up. Suguru may not be the luckiest person, but he thinks that Satoru might have enough to make up for it.
His hands hover at his sides. Desperately, he wants to reach out and grab Satoru’s face. Or hand. Or shoulder. Anything, he’d take anything just to be able to feel that he was really there. Too scared of being met with his infinity again, his arms stay awkwardly at his sides while they wait for Shoko to arrive.
Suguru moves over to where Riko is laying in the hall, Satoru following him wordlessly.
Shoko arrives in twelve minutes rather than fifteen, an astonishing time considering the distance from the dorms to here.
Shoko barrels into the hall frantically, and once again, Suguru feels a pang of guilt over worrying her. She stares at the two of them appraisingly for a moment. “Which of you was injured worse?” she asks, worrying her lip between her teeth. A nervous habit of hers. Bloody and bruised, the two of them can’t make a pretty sight.
“Satoru,” he says immediately, not even bothering to hide the concern in his voice. Normally Satoru would kick up a fuss over such a comment, claiming that he would never be hurt worse than Suguru. When Shoko raises her eyebrows at the lack of said protests as she makes her way over to their friend, he adds, “The assassin stabbed him earlier. And they fought while we were making our way here.” He sucks in a shaky breath. “And he’s been acting really off. Even for him. He isn’t blinking.”
Shoko just hums as she inspects Satoru. Shines a light in his eyes. Tilts his jaw both ways. Pushes the hair out of his face to look at where blood is dripping from his forehead. If she’s concerned at all, it doesn’t show. She’s always been incredible at putting away her feelings when it came to situations like this. Were Suguru in her position, he thinks he would have broken down a long time ago.
“Do you feel any pain?” she asks. When she receives nothing from the white haired man but a despondent stare, she snaps her fingers in front of his face. “Gojo, do you feel pain anywhere?” She asks again, carefully enunciating each word this time as though she were talking to a child who refused to listen.
Satoru shakes his head. “I don’t feel anything.” The words fall out of his mouth into Suguru’s head to rattle around with every other concerning statement Satoru’s made in the past hour. Shoko just clicks her tongue. “Tell me your name and the year.”
In spite of the situation, or maybe precisely because of the situation, Suguru rolls his eyes. “What, you think he just has a normal concussion or something?”
“Shut up, I’m just covering my bases,” she says, flipping him off.
“ Gojo Satoru, 2006.” Satoru says, interrupting their squabbling. He’s right, obviously.
“Since when have you been able to use reverse cursed energy?” Shoko asks next, causing Suguru’s eyes to widen. Glancing over at him, she adds, “All of his wounds are closed up, it’s the only explanation.” Ah .
“I just learned,” Satoru says with a stiff shrug, which, honestly, is the most expressive he’s been since he put a hole in that assassin.
Shoko huffs out a laugh, but it’s ever so slightly acrid around the edges. Whether the bitterness is caused by the situation or by Satoru himself is anyone’s guess. Suguru sure as hell couldn’t tell you what goes on in his classmate’s mind. “Physically speaking, he seems completely fine. No concussion, no wounds, no obvious sides of any internal bleeding,” she says, punctuating each item with a count of fingers.
Not for the first time in the past few hours, bile rises to his throat. “If he’s fine then why is he-” Lacking the proper words, he opts to gesture frantically at Satoru, who is still staring blankly.
“I said he was fine physically , dingus.” She rolls her eyes at him. “His cursed energy is all out of whack. Considering everything you’ve told me, he probably just overdid it. Like, majorly. His brain is hella fried from how much he used his technique, if I had to guess” She gives him a lazy shrug of her shoulders. “There’s not really anything to be done aside from waiting it out.”
Helplessness ensnares him as Shoko’s words sink in. Is there really nothing that can be done? Is it really just a matter of Satoru having overdone it and not something much more fundamental at play? Shoko flicks him on the forehead. He hadn’t even realized she had moved closer to him.
“Come on, your turn, Curse Boy.” In spite of himself, he lets out a slight laugh at the stupid but familiar nickname Shoko and Satoru had given him back in their first year. He can’t even remember who had originally coined the nickname, only that they had used it to refer to him almost interchangeably with his actual name when they had first met.
“Don’t call me that,” he says on principle, despite having accepted it a long time ago. Shoko starts inspecting his wounds, moving his limbs all around. “And stop manhandling me.” He adds, knowing that it will only make her more forceful in her inspection.
Shoko laughs, a much more genuine laugh than before. The gentle trickle of her reverse cursed technique floods his body, slowly stitching his wounds back together. Air expands his lungs as he takes a deep breath, appreciating the lessened soreness in his muscles. Shoko really was a miracle worker. Still, even she couldn’t heal the ache he felt deep in his bones. It seemed to only be getting worse with each second that Satoru continued to remain in his near catatonic state.
Was waiting really all they could do? What if he never got better? What if that assassin really did kill him after all?
A sharp pat on the back knocks him out of his rapidly spiraling thoughts. When he looks up at her, Shoko just levels him with a slightly judgemental stare. “I don’t know what you’re getting all stuck in your head about, but I know it’s something stupid that you’re probably massively overthinking,” she says and flicks his forehead. “So quit it, idiot. I can’t have both of you being all sad and broken.” Always so ineloquent in her consideration for others. It’s such a Shoko thing, to express her worry in a way that can be written off as annoyance. In a way that is, in fact, frequently written off as annoyance by their teachers and peers.
“Aww, Shoko, you worried about us or something? I always knew you cared. I’m touched, really,” he says, his tone all saccharine sweet, teasing and fake sounding. He trusts her to detect the truth in his words.
She rolls her eyes and slugs him on the shoulder. “Piss off,” she says, but there’s mirth behind her eyes. The two make eye contact and break into twin smirks. The action is so familiar that Suguru almost forgets that there is one grin missing.
Almost.
Suguru looks away, breaking the brief levity the two had found. He looks at Satoru, still standing staring at nothing. Or, maybe more accurately, staring at everything.
“You know, I passed by Riko Amanai’s body on the way in here,” Shoko says.
“Oh?” Suguru responds casually, not even looking away from Satoru to do so.
“Uh-huh. I stopped real quick to examine her too. Typically the dead don’t breathe or have a pulse.”
“You don’t say? I don’t have your medical knowledge, you’ll have to forgive my mistake.” He glances over at her and sees that she is giving him her most intimidating glare, one that she normally only busts out when Satoru is being particularly irritating.
She shakes her head, her greasy bob swaying back and forth. “And nobody ever believes me when I say you’re a moron.”
“Hmm.”
There’s a beat of silence as the two stare at each other, neither wanting to be the first to truly broach the topic, both knowing that there is no returning once they begin.
After a few minutes, it is Shoko who breaks first when she huffs out a loud sigh. Suguru finally turns to face her properly, giving her his full attention.
“So,” she starts.
“So,” he echoes back at her, just to bother her. It works, going off the annoyed look she gives him.
“So,” she starts again, “what now? You going to wake the girl up and take her to Tengen now, or are you going to wait?” Sharp eyes stare at him as though she is trying to glean the answer from his body language alone. Knowing her, maybe she already has.
He smiles his polite smile that he knows she hates. “I asked her before. She said she didn’t want to go,” he pauses, making sure to put the appropriate amount of weight into his next words, “I’m sure you’ve already guessed what Satoru and I intended to do.”
She huffs out a laugh at that, a twisted, almost bitter thing. “Yeah, of course I did. It’s you two morons, after all.” Now he’s the one laughing as she rolls her eyes. “I still think it’s a terrible idea, even though I saw it coming.”
“Come on now, Shoko. You should have heard how Yaga phrased the merger, he was basically asking for us to forgo it,” he says with a smirk. Something tells him that Yaga won’t be too pleased to hear his own words used in an attempt to justify this.
“Even you two aren’t dumb enough to think that excuse will slide,” she says, though she’s smiling. Her hand hovers at her side, moving slightly as though she wants to reach out to him. They’ve never been big on physical contact, the two of them. Unlike Satoru, who was always slinging an arm around a shoulder or grabbing a hand, they tended to express their care for each other in different, quieter ways. “I’ll tell them you went through with it, when I go back up. Should buy you some time to make your getaway.”
“Actually, there’s a reason I sent you that text,” he starts, and her eyes immediately narrow at him. Always so distrusting of the two of them yet still always willing to help them. He’s really going to miss her. “I need you to tell them that Amanai Riko was killed by an assassin instead.”
If looks could kill, Suguru would be splattered on the floor.