Work Text:
April 2007
The sky was beautiful that day; bright, vibrant, and spotted with fluffy clouds lazily drifting across it. Sunlight filtered through a canopy of oak trees, bathing the area with an ethereal glow. Everything thrummed with vibrance, from the butterflies flitting around to the droning of the crickets. Even the air was tinged with feelings of summertime nostalgia, of adolescent daydreams and bygone memories.
And yet, its current audience could hardly appreciate such breathtaking beauty.
“Satoru!”
A young man ripped through the forest greenery, tearing apart its delicate tranquility with a careless grin on his face. He quickly leapt over a fallen tree before ducking down and barely evading a large beam of cursed energy aimed at his head. He looked back and stuck his tongue out at his pursuer before continuing his escape.
“Get back here, you little shit!”
The other man crashed through the bushes as he chased his friend. Despite his angry expression, a playful glint shone in his eyes as he summoned a curse to throw at his target.
Said target paused in his tracks to grin back at him.
“Lighten up, Suguru! You don’t wanna kill me, do you–”
The curse slammed into his face with full force. Geto gave a victorious smirk when his friend stumbled back, properly stunned. He almost continued forward to give him a hand, except–
He shot back up, straight as a rod.
“Just kidding!” Gojo waved mockingly back at him. “Infinity!”
Geto’s expression darkened as he stepped forward. Gojo, instantly apprehensive, began backing away.
“Infinity isn’t gonna do shit when I strangle you, bastard!”
Gojo began his retreat once again, Geto hot on his trail. Still, he couldn’t resist turning back, determined to have the last word.
“It actually will, by definition, do shit if you try!”
“Don’t be a smartass, Satoru! It’s antithetical to your idiotic nature!”
“What does that even mean?”
Their chase continued: a playful back and forth, full of terrible one-liners and friendly aggression. It stayed as such for the better part of an hour, until both boys, exhausted, made their way out of the woods and onto a grassy field. They walked over to an oak in the open area together and lied beneath it.
It didn’t take long for the sunlight filtering through the oak tree leaves to vanish. Clouds rolled over the sun, carried by a breeze that rustled their hair and uniforms. The air quickly cooled as the area was cast into shadow. It was quiet now, with the small clearing carrying only sounds of the boys’ heavy breathing and dying laughter. Cold from the ground seeped slowly into their backs the longer they stayed, but neither of them cared.
Geto lay contently on the ground, finally relaxing enough to let the place’s hesitant serenity soak in. Gojo lay beside him with his arms behind his head, gazing up at the bright blue sky without a thought in mind. A placid silence grew between them, ebbing with the flow of the wind and leaving both of them fulfilled with the other’s presence.
Geto lost track of the time they’d spent there, but it couldn’t have been long. The clouds still covered the sun when Gojo suddenly spoke.
“Hey. Suguru.” He was staring at him, searching gaze full of unspoken emotion.
Geto gave him a questioning glance. “Yeah?”
Gojo paused for a moment before turning back to look at the somber sky above them.
“We’ll be okay, won’t we?”
The clouds finally blew past and the soft shade cast over the area was gone. Gojo was bathed in sunlight, illuminating his features and sending reflections bouncing off the rims of his glasses. His eyes, effervescent under the midday light, continued to inspect the sky above.
“Of course,” Geto gave a small, tired smile and closed his eyes.
“We are the strongest, after all.”
September 2007
He stared at a retreating back, locked in place. His fingers, pressed so determinedly together, fell limply to his side. Meaning, he said. Meaning in death.
Gojo pulled his hand back into a tight fist.
How could he stand there and spew all that bullshit with a straight face? Preaching about his purpose and other meaningless crap. Did all that philosophical nonsense really mean more to him than Gojo? Than Shoko? Than the first years, than Jujutsu Tech as a whole?
Than them?
No one ran into Gojo as he stood in the middle of the crowded street. No one even brushed past his side. There was no one there to ground him, to grab his hand and tell him it was alright, to give him a hug and say none of it was real. The one to do it had just left, taking any chance of simple comfort with him.
Gojo’s hand was bleeding again.
He stared at it passively, barely noticing the rivulet of blood dripping to the ground. It hardly mattered. He could heal it with reversed cursed energy and wouldn’t gain any new injuries so long as infinity was activated.
He smiled. So strong was he, a man with all the power in the world who couldn’t even save his best friend. So observant was the man who couldn’t see the signs with all six of his eyes. How tenacious, to stand firm while letting his humanity slip through his fingers.
Shoko found him eventually. They headed back together.
🟄 🟄 🟄
“Sensei, I’m strong, right?”
“Yes. Brazenly so.”
Gojo stared into the woods surrounding them with dead eyes. Cicada chirps filled the air.
“But apparently, it’s not good enough for me to just be strong. I’m useless to those unwilling to be saved.”
Yaga had no response for that.
February 2011
The room Gojo lay in was quiet. Evening light bled through the closed curtains, bathing the room in a soft orange glow and illuminating a scene frozen in time. Books thrown carelessly on the floor, a tattered uniform crumpled in the back of the closet, posters that had long lost their stick and fallen to the ground. Dust was everywhere, covering surfaces and floating around the room, softening once-sharp memories.
Gojo stared blankly at the ceiling. It just smelled musty.
He didn’t feel any particular emotion coming here, aside from mild anger for not leaving this god-forsaken place behind by now. It looked the same as when Gojo first ransacked it, held stagnant in time as the school around it changed. It was strange to think how long it had been this way; he could’ve sworn it was only yesterday when he lost himself to ripping apart the room, throwing around furniture and meaningless items in a fit of childish rage.
Gojo shook his head. Better not to think about it. He’d finally gotten his life somewhat together; trudging up old memories wouldn’t help with anything. He supposed he should have expected that to happen, walking into this time capsule as he did. Gojo had never been known for making smart decisions back then though, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now.
With that final thought, he heaved himself off the bed and started towards the door. Dust stirred where his boots hit the floor, floating through the narrow strip of light. The particles gleamed against the rapidly dimming evening light, bringing their deep orange tint into focus.
He would hate it if he saw how messy his old room had become.
Gojo let himself smile at that, doing one last lookover of the small room before he left for another year. Perhaps by the time February rolled around again, he’d be able to clean out this old place, let go of his attachments.
He let the door close behind him.
December 2012
Gojo did not drink.
He’d learned his lesson all the way back as a first year in Jujutsu Tech, when Shoko snuck in a cheap six-pack of beer for the three of them. She’d insisted and called it “a necessary developmental experience”, shocked when he and Geto admitted to never having any.
He spat it out the moment the stuff touched his tongue.
“That’s disgusting! Why the hell does anyone drink this?”
Shoko fell on her back laughing, rolling around on the hard wooden floors of Geto’s dorm room. If he had to guess from the light flush on her cheeks, the beer in her hand wasn’t her first drink of the night.
Geto also let out a small chuckle from where he sat against his bed, slowly sipping his own.
“Hey, you can’t fool me with that bullcrap, Suguru! I can tell you’re just trying to cover up how much you hate it!”
He raised an eyebrow in response, ready for a challenge.
“Not everyone has as insufferable a sweet tooth as you, Satoru. I can appreciate something without it having ten pounds of sugar.”
Gojo walked over with a cocky smirk.
“You sure? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure you almost gagged after opening that can.”
“Wanna bet?”
Gojo barely had time to narrow his eyes before Geto lunged forward, grappling his midsection and pinning him to the ground. Gojo retaliated swiftly and kicked against Geto to free himself, then rolled backwards to get out of reach. He tried to sweep a leg under the other boy, but he caught and yanked it to throw him off balance. Gojo quickly reoriented himself to redirect the movement into a well-aimed high kick, but Geto saw it coming and rushed forward to punch his stomach.
“Hey! Leave me out of this! If you’re gonna be annoying assholes, take it out to the hallway!” Shoko shouted at them.
They broke apart, breathing heavily and assessing each other. Gojo was the first to move, slowly backing out the door. Geto followed, a low-level curse already summoned to his side. He prepared to launch it at Gojo, but–
They both felt a heavy fist come down on their heads. Yaga stood menacingly above them with a furious expression.
“The hell are you two doing, starting a fight? Nevermind the fact that you’re inside, it’s three in the morning for god’s sake!”
Gojo grinned.
“Sensei! We found an unregistered special grade curse wandering the hal–”
“Go to bed!”
Suffice it to say, Gojo did not drink. Why would he, when any cheap soda would taste better and keep him awake longer? Not even the few sweeter types of alcohol he’d tried before struck his fancy. That being said–
“Shokooooo,” he droned in a scratchy voice. “Why didn’t Geto comeee?”
Shoko looked down at him in disgust. “Good lord you’re a terrible drunk. No wonder you never come with me.”
Gojo whimpered and let his head thunk against the glass counter. Bass pounded loudly in the background and the whole place was lit up by neon strobe lights. People were everywhere: sitting in booths along the wall, clumped in groups on the dancefloor, or lingering around the bar like he was(though they all gave Gojo a wide berth, much to Shoko’s chagrin).
His head spun as he tried to collect his thoughts, understand what the hell was going on or why he was here. It was too loud, too hot, there were too many people there for him to think. He vaguely remembered asking Shoko to bring him here, though he couldn’t possibly fathom why.
“This is why you should’ve listened to me, Shoko! Now we’re all going to be subjected to his pathetic drunken pining!”
“Shut up, Utahime,” he mumbled groggily. God, his throat was dry. What did he even drink?
Utahime let out an indignant huff in response. “I can’t even get mad at this idiot right now. He’s even more pathetic than usual.”
Gojo, with some effort, rolled his head to the side to smirk at her. “Real wide vocabulary there Utahime. Got anything else to describe me with?”
“I take it back. I’m going to kill him.”
Shoko held Utahime back as she tried to hit him. He ignored her and turned back to the counter, trying in vain to block out the club’s overwhelming stimuli. Everything was too much. Why the hell had he wanted to come here?
“I’m leaving, Shoko,” he said. Slowly, he heaved himself out of the bar stool and stumbled around the dance floor to the exit.
“God, I hate that guy. No manners to speak of and he’s always acting like a dick. I don’t know how you put up with him, Shoko.”
Shoko laughed lightly and smiled at Utahime before turning to glance at Gojo’s retreating back.
“I mean, someone has to.”
🟄 🟄 🟄
The air outside the club was bitingly cold. It dug into his bones, pulling him out of his drunken stupor and back into reality. His headache that had been slowly building throughout the night ebbed away with each passing midnight breeze, disappearing into the dark.
The loud music he’d been overwhelmed by a moment ago faded to inconsequential buzz as the doors closed behind him. It felt strangely silent outside; the regular sounds of city nightlife seemed to disappear as he breathed in and out, letting the crisp air sting his throat.
As he walked along cracked sidewalks and broken roads, familiar sights passed him by. A family-run crepe shop, now closed for the holidays, from which he found his love for sweets. An old arcade where he first learned the bitter taste of loss. A cheap fast-food joint he’d spent countless hours in, plotting over paper table mats and shitty lemonade.
He came to a stop in front of a rickety playground, uninhabited at the late hour.
Gojo slowly lowered himself onto an old swing. The scene around him was one he’d seen a million times, usually confined to long summer afternoons, stretching shadows, and childish notions of eternity.
It didn’t hurt to gaze upon this place, to recall his bitterly-tainted memories, at least not as much as it used to. Instead, it brought forth a feeling of contentment. He rocked forward and let out a deep breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in. Here, in this peaceful city night, his worries from the day washed away.
As Gojo looked up, past the tall dark buildings and to the black night sky, he was enveloped in an overwhelming sense of serenity. It stayed a strange presence by his side as he continued wandering the city streets well into the night.
Finally, when the last rays of sunlight made their way above the horizon, Gojo headed back to Jujutsu Tech.
At the very least, he was smiling.
February 2013
Gojo stared at that door for a long time. Such a strange notion, that an object as unassuming as this one could have such a profound effect on him. It was a bit pathetic, in all honesty, the middle ground he found himself stuck in. Too attached to walk away, too scared to enter.
Not too scared, he reminded himself. It was progress.
Even so, he felt trapped in the frozen time of this sliver of the hallway. The only thing that ever changed was a ray of sunlight that slipped through the window, shifting in size and hue as the day progressed. He watched it slowly inch its way along the floorboards until it pooled at his feet like molten lava. His shadow seemed to stretch on for miles behind him.
It reminded him of happier times, times when he could leap through each passing day with the confidence to believe that the end of one could only lead to the bright beginning of another.
He never paused to appreciate the beauty around him then.
He hadn’t thought he needed to.
Gojo sighed loudly and sank down to the floor. He rubbed agitatedly at his eyes as if trying to push out the melancholy plaguing him. God, he hated February. It was too damn cold; even the sunlight covering his left side held none of the warm comfort of summer. It felt crisp, decided, and sharp.
It felt like–
He let out a short laugh. “Things are getting real bad if I’m seeing you in the sun, huh?”
His voice echoed deafeningly in the small space.
Gojo stood abruptly and rapped his hand on the door. “I would say see you next year, but, well, I hope I don’t, actually.” He gave a large grin before finally, with a decided push, leaving.
The arms held jauntily behind his head kept him from looking back.
June 2013
“Gojo-sensei. It’s too hot.”
Gojo suppressed a little squeal of joy at the pouting child pulling on his hand. Everything about him, from the too-large sunglasses obscuring half his face, to the sunscreen dabbed in an un-smeared glob on his nose, was adorable.
“I said I don’t wanna go!” His little ball of sunshine yanked on Gojo’s hand again and stubbornly stopped walking.
Well. He tried to, at least. His little tugs were akin to a ladybug trying to push over an iron wall. Truly endearing.
Gojo finally paused in his tracks and flipped around to face the fun-sized brat.
“Megumi-chan!” he shouted dramatically. “It is of utmost importance we make it to the park today! If we don’t, the legendary monsters of calciferol deprivation will come and steal your soul!”
Megumi stared up at him, unimpressed. “Using fancy words doesn’t make you sound any less stupid, Gojo-sensei. And I know what vitamin D is.”
“Ahh! The horror! The monsters have already infested his mind! Hurry, Tsumiki, we must reach the park quickly!”
Gojo sagged in relief when she giggled and looked over at Megumi. “Let’s just keep going, yeah? We’re already almost there.”
Megumi let out an indignant huff but remained otherwise silent. He trudged along sullenly until a few minutes later, when they reached the park. Immediately, his anger was overtaken by childlike wonder.
Gojo had really outdone himself with this idea. The day was, despite Megumi’s complaints, absolutely perfect. A bright blue sky, completely devoid of clouds, stretched endlessly above them and the sun it contained, though scorching, was softened by passing summer breezes. Butterflies danced through the air and around countless wildflowers growing up from the lush green grass carpeting the area. Even the heat that had no doubt beaten its way into all of their backs felt comforting, not overbearing.
“Can I let out the Divine Dogs?”
The location was perfect too.
Gojo grinned at Megumi. “Why do you think we came to a dog park?”
Megumi’s eyes practically sparkled with excitement. He wasted no time in bringing his hands together to summon them, trying(and failing) to keep a serious expression on his face. His composure broke as soon as they started to lick at his hands, finally getting a small giggle out of him.
Gojo spotted the slightly confused expression on Tsumiki’s face and rushed to amend his statement. “Of course, we didn’t come just for Divine Dogs. The best part of dog parks is that you can mooch off the cuteness of other canines without having to take care of them yourself!”
He finished his statement by dramatically flipping the park’s gate open.
As it was a nice day, the park was pretty busy: there were numerous dogs scattered about the park, owners playing with them or sitting nearby.
Megumi stared up at him seriously. “I’m gonna go train Divine Dogs.”
“Sounds good, kid,” Gojo replied. He couldn’t resist leaning down to ruffle his spiky hair. Megumi recoiled, glaring at him for a moment before leading his dogs away.
“I think I see one of my friends over there with her dogs,” Tsumiki pointed over at a girl chasing around a golden retriever. “I’m going to go talk with her, if that’s fine.”
Gojo gave her double thumbs-up and grinned. “Perfect! I’ll be over somewhere on one of the benches.”
Tsumiki nodded and walked off.
He let out a huge sigh of relief and sagged once she was gone. The all-nighters he’d pulled to get this day off with his kids were finally catching up with him, now that he wasn’t running on adrenaline. He was exhausted, but satisfied knowing he’d done well. Despite this, his fatigue crept up on him: he didn’t even notice as he started to drift off.
🟄 🟄 🟄
“....?”
“...etting late…”
Gojo blinked wearily as the voices around him came into focus.
“Doesn’t matter now Tsumiki, I already woke him up.”
“Oh…”
Finally, he managed to open his eyes.
Tsumiki and Megumi were standing in front of him, the former looking apologetic and the latter somewhat annoyed. Despite this, the Divine Dogs circled his bench protectively as if to keep watch. Adorable.
Then, he looked past them. The sky was a vibrant ombre of reds and yellows, painting the clouds cotton candy pink. The shadows of the few people left in the park stretched out far behind them, cartoonishly exaggerated by the sun’s dimming rays.
“Jeez… How long was I asleep?”
Megumi rolled his eyes. “Probably over six hours. We weren’t really counting.”
Gojo stretched his lanky limbs and yawned loudly. “Well, next time, wake me up earlier! I shouldn’t have just left you guys here for so long.”
They shared a quick look.
“Sure,” said Tsumiki with a fake smile. Megumi nodded minutely.
“Hey, hey! I can tell a lie when I hear it, Tsumiki! I’m telling you, if this happens again, don’t let me sleep this long!”
“Of course, of course,” she replied, already walking away with Megumi.
“Hey! Listen to me!”
Tsumiki laughed as he chased after them, following the last of the evening light as they made their way back home.
December 2015
It was a cloudless night. Stars spread endlessly across the sky, illuminating the universe’s vast majesty.. Everything was still and, save for the sound of boots softly crunching on snowy ground, silent.
It was cold, too. The chill crept its way through his fingers, then his face, then his ears, continuing until his very bones were frozen solid. The cold doubled as a wintry blanket, surrounding him in a pleasant layer of numbness that dimmed the turmoil in his mind.
Here, in this serene place, he was utterly alone, more so than usual.
Somehow, that was comforting.
Gojo paused in his steps to stare up at the sky. Even as a crescent, the moon shone brightly. It didn’t hurt his eyes; the faint glow was comforting as it softened the harsh angles of his face.
He sat down beneath a tree where the snow wasn’t so thick and smiled at the scenery around him. There was something beautiful about the boundless open fields carpeted in a perfect layer of snow, undisturbed by all and left to shimmer beneath the moonlight.
Gojo leaned back against the tree’s trunk and laced his fingers behind his head. He supposed that, had Geto been with him, he would have never had the chance to witness such a reposeful scene. They’d have ruined it long before he had the chance to take it in.
Gojo let out a long breath that clouded up in front of him as he settled in for the night. He lazily watched it dissipate into the dark, another fleeting memory. He smiled as he drifted off.
All things considered, it hadn’t been the worst birthday.
February 2017
The hallway stayed empty that year.
December 2017
Gojo’s legs were stiff as he walked to the entrance of Jujutsu Tech. He was here. His cursed energy made that quite obvious.
One step at a time. The distance between himself and the man at the entrance stretched a thousand miles long. It would take him an eternity to travel it.
One step. Then another.
He managed to stay in front of Yaga, somehow, as the principal frantically gathered sorcerers to defend the students. His ears were deaf to the chaos around him.
So many steps he’d taken, when Gojo finally made it out the door, and yet he was still utterly unprepared for the sight in front of him.
Geto, arm slung carelessly around Yuuta. A casual stance, emphatic words.
“...and create a world with only jujutsu sorcerers.”
He was completely detached. His emotions had been cleaved from his body, leaving behind only frigid isolation and apathy. Somewhere, deep inside, a burning ire ignited in his heart, but he could scarcely feel it.
Calmly, Gojo stepped forward.
“Could you stop preaching your crazy beliefs to my students?”
Geto paused. They stared at each other.
Time had hooked itself upon Geto’s slight frown and refused to move forward: Gojo swore he could hear the seconds ticking by.
Then, Geto’s expression transformed into a large grin.
“Satoru! Long time no see!”
Fury, now red-hot, burned beneath his icy exterior.
“Get away from the kids, Suguru.”
His name felt foul on Gojo’s tongue. He didn’t want to use it here, didn’t want to drag everything they were through the mud. Hearing his own from Geto was even worse. His smiling eyes and casual tone were ghosts from the past, returning as facades to mock every memory they shared. There was unfamiliar venom behind Geto's eyes; he hardly recognized the man standing before him.
“I had heard this year’s first-years were all outstanding students…” Geto drawled, tilting his head up with a smirk. “Now I understand. It was all your doing.”
Gojo stood, stuck in place, as Geto exchanged mocking words with his students. They had a few rounds of back and forth until Yuuta finally shoved off the curse user, shaking Gojo out of his daze.
Geto gave Yuuta an apologetic smile. “My apologies. It wasn’t my intention to upset you.”
That did it. The acidic acrimony inside rose to a breaking point, boiling just beneath his skin. He moved forward to stand between Geto and Yuuta.
“Then what exactly did you come here for?” Some of the venom leaked into his tone.
They were so close. Geto showed no signs of caring; he merely stared with dead eyes and a conceited grin.
“To declare war.”
Gojo stayed silent as he rattled off his grand plans. He barely moved, save for the slight twitching of his arm as his fists slowly tightened in his pockets. There were too many things he needed to say, too many questions that begged to be asked. They whispered deafeningly in his mind, drowning out all of Geto’s contradictions in a frightening cacophony of unspoken words.
Distantly, he heard one of the girls yelling out to Geto.
He turned to face her with an indulgent smile. A soft smile, full of warmth and joy. It was one he’d seen a million times before.
“It’s already that late?” Geto asked.
He looked back at Gojo and his expression instantly shifted. Perhaps it wasn’t so noticeable to anyone else present, but Gojo could feel the frost now concealed behind the other man’s eyes. Could see how his smile grew ever-so-slightly smaller and fake. Noticed the way his brows drew together mockingly.
He used to laugh when Suguru gave others that look.
He couldn’t fathom why he found it so funny.
“I’m sorry, Satoru. These girls just insist on getting crepes from Takeshita Street.”
Satoru again. How could Geto bear to utter that name after everything he’d done? Did he truly feel no attachment at all?
The girl waved and hurried him with a shout. There was a finality in his movements as he turned to leave. Another thing Gojo was quite familiar with.
“Good grief. I don’t see what’s so good about a place with so many monkeys,” Geto grumbled as he started walking off.
Finally, Gojo forced himself to speak. The words raked past his throat like gravel, a million meanings tied into a painful bundle.
“Did you think we’d just let you leave?”
Were you counting on my weakness?
Geto paused.
“You don’t want to start that.”
A gargantuan cyclops curse rose from the ground by Geto’s feet. Its limbs were swollen and grotesque, single eye bulging out of its socket. Around its sickly gray skin was a necklace formed of human heads, tied neatly together with string running through their eyes. The cyclops let out a guttural roar.
“Your precious students are within my range.”
A dozen more curses sprung from the ground around them. Geto latched onto the leg of the stork curse with a smug grin.
“Well, everyone, see you on the battlefield!” He called as it began to ascend.
And just like that, he was gone again.
Gojo distantly heard Yaga shouting orders to start planning for the twenty-fourth. Gojo ignored him and walked away.
One step. Then another. Once and once more.
🟄 🟄 🟄
The sun shone brilliantly from its place low on the horizon. Its vivid rays illuminated everything, from the golden mountain ranges to the undersides of fluffy clouds. The sky was dappled canary and purple, shifting hues with each passing cloud. Mist that had settled low in the mountains’ valleys was a gorgeous yellow as well, in ethereal contrast to the dark trees clustered before it. The sight was heavenly; everything worked in harmony to provide a picture-perfect image.
He stared at the clouds with disinterest.
Finally, he had done it.
Countless days spent hunting and consuming the dregs of humanity were coming to a head. Soon, he could truly fight for the world he believed in, one without the needless suffering of sorcerers. Soon, he would obtain the Queen of Curses and begin his mission to free the world of the backwards system that had been plaguing them for so long. Soon, his girls could smile and laugh without a care in the world, unbothered by curses and monkeys alike.
It would require great sacrifice, of course, as all great things do. An unfortunate necessity for the world he envisioned.
Geto sighed, burying his face in his hands. The terrified eyes of Jujutsu Tech’s students, Yaga’s fury, the unfamiliarity with which Gojo regarded him. It all felt so… wrong. Did they not understand? He was the one saving them from their miserable fates.
Of course, he wasn’t stupid. The path he walked was one of regret, lined with broken promises and ruined dreams. To others, Geto would appear the villain in all this. He was the one inciting change, after all. Sorcerers were much more likely to tolerate the passive whims of monkeys than the violent retribution Geto wished to invoke. He had accepted that a long time ago.
Even so, Geto was human. He still longed for a perfect world, where his girls could smile side by side with the students of Jujutsu Tech, where they were spared the conflicting ideologies of their deeply flawed world and were allowed to simply be. One where he could stand with Gojo.
A world free of curses.
Geto was going to make it a reality.
He just didn’t know if anyone would look him in the eyes once he finished.
There wasn’t anything to be done about it, though. This was the life he had chosen. His mindset, plans, the person he was now, it was all inevitable. He’d known that the moment he walked away, all those years ago. The only difference was that his ideas were now tangible, things he could no longer–and did not want to–run away from.
There was a decisiveness in his movements as Geto stood up and dusted off his robes. He cast one last forlorn glance to the golden landscape before turning away, walking along the path of his shadow cast by the setting sun.
He did not know how this would all end. No matter how it did, we would have lived by his convictions.
Geto had chosen this path for himself.
That was enough for him.