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Summer is universally considered the worst season for any jujutsu sorcerer. With the summer heat came an influx of natural disasters in the form of cursed spirits and the already busy schedule of any active sorcerer became doubled and then tripled. The busyness tended to result in the short-handed field becoming even more shorthanded, in that sorcerers died in summer most often.
Satoru’s memories of the summer seasons were, however, like most things in his life, an exception. As a young child still fixed in routine training of the Gojo clan, who lived or died in the results of the summer heat were meaningless and trivial, hidden behind the wholly indifferent walls of solitude. That should’ve changed when he entered Jujutsu Tech, but with the high school came his classmate sporting stupid bangs and a pretty smile.
It turned out that Satoru didn’t care for the endless cycles of being a jujutsu sorcerer, as long as Suguru was there with him. For them, the summer heat just became an excuse to get ice cream after missions. Well, the idea had been Satoru’s, but clearly it was a good one considering that soon enough not only were he and Suguru enjoying popsicles with Shoko naturally joining them, but their two opposites-attract juniors too. Haibara, always happy to be included, and Nanami, who ‘only came for the ice cream’ apparently.
“Why is it blue if it’s cherry flavored?” Suguru asked immediately, raising a skeptical brow at Satoru’s chosen treat, who gasped in offense with a dramatic air that made Suguru crack a smile. “Mmm,” Shoko chimed in quickly, “blue raspberry is a whole flavor by itself, and raspberries aren’t blue either.”
“Yeah yeah!” Satoru agreed, gesturing energetically at Shoko, who sat casually against a sidewalk bar and raised her can towards him in response like it was a cheer. Suguru only shook his head, “that doesn’t support it, that just makes me have to ask why blue raspberry is a flavor either.”
Squatting between the two of them, Haibara giggled, nodding along, “Geto-san makes a good point.” Satoru would’ve pointed out that Haibara usually agreed with Suguru, and that Suguru being pretty doesn’t mean he’s at all credible, but he chose to spare both of them the embarrassment, and figured that with Shoko and Nanami there, it would be turned on him very quickly. He could admit he was the last person with any right to point out favoritism towards Suguru. Or, he could admit it easily in his head, but if anybody asks, then Suguru has never been right about anything actually. Suguru had special treatment from Satoru in an entirely different way than the bright-eyed admiration of Haibara.
The snapping of fingers brought Satoru out of his thoughts, which he hadn't even realised had distracted him at all. “I knew you weren’t listening to me,” Suguru grumbled, leaning back now that he’d effectively got Satoru’s attention, “zoning out while I’m talking does not equate to winning the argument, for the record!” Suguru said, pointing an accusatory finger at Satoru.
“Is debating whether blue cherry is a real flavor or not really a topic worth arguing about?” Nanami said, finally speaking up even if it was only to complain in a disgruntled voice. Suguru cracked up immediately, slinging an arm around Nanami’s shoulders, who only appeared grumpier because of it. “Nanami, anything can be an argument if Satoru and I are talking about it.”
Satoru snickered, ducking his face behind his arm, taken off guard by both the comment and the cheery, borderline smug demeanor with which Suguru delivered it. Suguru’s eyes flicked back to Satoru in an instant and they both broke off into more laughter upon meeting eyes. Nanami frowned to an outright comical degree, and they both only laughed more at the sight of him.
“Geto-senpai..” Nanami said seriously, turning to look at Suguru directly, who forcibly settled his expression and raised his eyebrows, both curious and apprehensive for what he was sure was about to be an unflattering statement from his beloved junior. Shoko grinned, already eager to see Suguru casually obliterated. “Geto-senpai,” Nanami repeated, unaware of the reputation he’d gained or the reactions around them, which only added to the humor of it, “you’re usually smart and impressive,” Suguru pressed his lips into a fine line, shoulders shaking with effort to avoid laughing preemptively. “But whenever you’re with Gojo, you seem to stop using any brain cells entirely. Is it on purpose?”
Nanami did not appear to know what to do when they all immediately burst out laughing, given that his question had been entirely genuine, and that the sincerity of it was what made it quite so funny. Suguru sputtered out several apologies, but said between laughter, they only served to make Nanami less placated. Satoru reached forward to punch Suguru’s arm, who looked over at him and then covered his own eyes. Suguru’s attempts to respond to Nanami resulted mostly in more cackling, until Nanami became pouty enough that he outright began to walk off. They all raced after him, Suguru offering more apologies as they began the trek back to the school. Haibara jumped suddenly and raced back to get a second can of coke, having nearly forgotten he wanted one, Suguru followed after him for company’s sake and the rest waited the minute it took them.
The conversation kept on a ridiculous and lighthearted note, though as they got closer to the school, Suguru became distracted, muttering something about documents he needed to take care of. Satoru watched him silently until Suguru took notice of the big blue eyes staring him down, his lips perked up the moment he turned to Satoru. “Staring is rude, Satoru.”
Satoru stuck his tongue out in response and Suguru shoved his face away while chuckling. Satoru bumped his shoulder to Suguru’s, then turned to the rest of the group. “Let’s go to the arcade.”
“Sure.” Shoko said easily, Haibara agreed quickly too. Nanami made no intelligible response, only grumbling to himself, which meant he’d be dragged along without argument as well. Satoru brightened, turning to Suguru for the last confirmation. Suguru searched his face for a moment, humming in thought while Satoru’s expression turned more jokingly pleading. Finally, Suguru said “loser buys supper for the winner.”
Satoru won, and bought 10 burgers for supper at that. It was perfect in his own opinion, Suguru’s death glare only added to the joy of winning the bet. “Why am I paying for the rich man, huh? This is exploitation of the lower class,” Suguru said, nearly causing Satoru to choke on his food laughing, which Suguru joyfully claimed as karmic retribution.
Those were the days Satoru always remembered of his summers spent by Suguru’s side. They only returned to the school late that night, obviously having hung at a fast food joint for supper before finally making it back. Suguru still stayed up later to do those documents after all, Satoru couldn’t say exactly how long he was up, since he’d fallen asleep on Suguru’s bed before he’d finished. He vaguely recalled being jostled at some point when Suguru eventually settled in to sleep, Suguru had managed to get Satoru under a blanket sometime in the night. Satoru didn’t think he was cold until there was a blanket over him. He supposed Suguru did usually know what Satoru needed better than he did.
It was almost a regular childhood memory, even though the morning had been spent dealing with curses and some school execs getting mad at them for some nonsense, but even that time was filled with laughter too.
“Something about that old dude yelling at us reminded me of something,” Satoru had said, and Suguru immediately leveled him with a comically serious expression. “‘And I would’ve gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for those meddling kids!’” He said, using a voice to match the reference of Scooby Doo. Satoru snapped his fingers and burst out laughing, Suguru had hit the nail on the head. Laughing over references to childhood classics cartoons, while wiping the blood and grime off their skin.
Satoru could make sense of it now, years later; in how they’d been made precious memories, because they were shared with Suguru then, and that was all it took to be humanizing.
Sitting in that old classroom on his own, more than a decade later, it had no weight at all for him to understand those treasured memories now, to see with full clarity what his own indifference had led to. Too little, too late.