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The day you disappeared from this world, the most precious part of my history also disappeared forever.
Well, I guess it’s not fair to say that you disappeared. I killed you.
People always worry about what they’ll leave behind after they die. Whether they’ve left a mark on the world, made an impact on someone’s life, accomplished something no one else could.
I’ve done all of that, of course. And I’m proud of it. I know the scales tipped with my birth and I know that I’m the strongest. The world knows that too, so I’ve never been worried about my legacy. Besides, after I die, I’ll be too busy being dead to worry about what people are saying post-mortem.
They’ll say that I was the strongest sorcerer, that there was no one truly like me, that I saved lives simply by existing. They’ll rub their temples and sigh because they’ll have to find someone else to take on those undesirable missions, figure out how to clean up their own messes, how to fill in the gaping void I leave. And then when they do, I’ll be nothing more than an entry in a history textbook. I hope it’s a big section—honestly, they should just make an entire book about me.
But that’s all it’ll be. When I die, I will die as a sorcerer and nothing more. There will be nothing about who I was outside of jujutsu. They’ll tell tales of the Gojo family’s miracle child, and say nothing about—
“Satoru.”
They say that the first thing you forget about someone is their voice, but I’ve never forgotten the way you used to say my name. When we were on a mission, it always came with a sigh of exasperation, but when it was just the two of us in your room, there was a fondness that no one could ever replace..
I know I did the right thing, because you didn’t try to stop me.
But now there’s no one left who knows me . Contrary to popular belief, I do have friends, and I know my dear students will, at the very least, say nice things, like how I always treat them to a meal after a mission no matter how easy or difficult, or how I adjusted the training to match their unique quirks. It’s not the same, though.
You’re the only one who knows about that time I tripped over a cat on our way back from the convenience store.
You’re the only one who knows that the real reason I hate going on planes is because the enclosed space makes me uneasy, not because of airplane ear (though I hate that too).
You’re the only one who dared to talk back to the elders when they said that “a no-name brat like you” wasn’t fit to stand by my side.
You’re the only one who gets mad when people call me a monster.
You’re the only one who knows what I look like when I cry.
You’re the only one who can make my face flush with a single touch.
You’re the only one I get nervous around.
You’re the only one I’ve never let go of.
You are gone, and the world will keep spinning. A world without you is still worth living in because there are other people who I treasure, who I want to be happy. I can pick myself up like I always do and keep moving. I’ll walk into the classroom with a smile, 7 minutes late as usual, run my students into the ground, argue with the higher-ups, annoy my juniors, use Shoko’s office as a nap room, shop around town for the best desserts. And I will go forth carrying your memory and legacy with me for as long as I live—an equivalent exchange of sorts. You’ve taken with you a piece of me that I will never get back, so I will take everything left of you and protect it with all my might.
The thought of never seeing you again is scary. It’s so, so lonely. I’ll never be whole again because you made me, meant so much to me, loved me.
I can’t write novels about you. I can’t spread your message all over the world. I can’t tell everyone how great of a person you were. But I hope it’s enough for you that I will never forget you.
You’re my one and only, Suguru. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you until the end.