Chapter Text
It is widely known that when someone dies there is a crucial step that must happen before finding peace in the afterlife.
The deceased will find themselves in a place that held significance to them in life. It may not be their favorite place, but rather, the place that most defined and shaped them. A place that embedded itself into their very soul. There they will wait until they can meet face to face with the one person whose life they changed most.
Once that person enters the space, a span of what humans experience as 24 hours occurs, no more and no less.
The person can be an enemy, a friend, a lover, a child. The person who joins the deceased must always be someone alive; someone left behind to face the world without the deceased.
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Satoru Gojo found himself in the classroom from both his youth and teaching career.
It was weird to be on the other side of this experience. When Satoru ended Suguru’s life, Satoru had found himself face to face with his one and only.
It meant everything to him to see Suguru again… knowing that even with what happened between them, he had been Suguru’s most impactful person. The talk that they had, with Suguru at his happiest, in his afterlife glow, had healed many of the deepest wounds in Satoru’s heart.
Satoru had always assumed that when he died, if Suguru had not died first, that he would see Suguru. But now that could not happen… and Satoru could not fathom anyone else seeing Satoru as such a force in their life.
Satoru was not sure who to expect. He knew he had helped people. He had been a mentor and teacher, and even a friend to Shoko, though not always a great one.
He did not see himself as completely unlovable, but he knew his flaws and his personality were often a lot for people. He had always felt like he was on the outside, except with Suguru. And when Suguru left him that first time, Gojo’s isolation only grew more vast. When Suguru died, the divide between himself and others felt nearly infinite. He had been born for one role and one role only: to be strong. And to do this, he had put his strength ahead of being human. And it had worked, until it didn’t.
Satoru wondered if he would spend his 24 hours of afterlife consciousness alone. He supposed that would not be too different from how he had felt in life. The strongest yet never the most impactful. It was fitting.
Satoru took a closer look around the room. It was slightly different from the room he met Suguru in. It seemed to take on the desires and mind of the dead. When Satoru looked at himself in the mirror, he saw his younger self, his happiest self, when he was at school with Suguru and Shoko. Before the worst had happened. It was almost jarring to see himself looking so young and unburdened by the weight of what came after.
He heard a noise, and noticed that a door had appeared. The sound of footsteps approaching filled his ears, and he noticed that as the footsteps grew louder, his own features changed more rapidly, reverting to his older and more recent self.
He tilted his head. He had heard that when one first entered this death space that one reverted to the age where they were happiest or most at peace, but that the age and appearance could shift to match the the impacted person’s perception of you.
Satoru had his blindfold back on now, and noticed that he was now wearing his teaching uniform.
The sound of footsteps ceased. Satoru could feel tension rolling from whomever was behind the door. Satoru turned back toward it as it slowly opened.
Surprise flooded through him, and Satoru found he was without words.
Out of everyone he had expected that it could possibly be, he had never guessed that Megumi Fushiguro would walk through the door.
Sure, Satoru had been his benefactor and guardian. He had cared for him, as much as was possible, as his teenage guardian turned young teacher shouldering the majority of Jujutsu missions.
Maybe this was a prank in the afterlife? Maybe a manifestation of Satoru’s secret desire to matter to Megumi in some meaningful way?
Satoru had never thought that Megumi valued him, and he had never taken that personally. Maybe Megumi just happened to value him slightly more than most, which Satoru thought somewhat bitterly, was not necessarily much.
Satoru pushed up the right side of his blindfold, as Megumi looked at him from the doorway. He seemed… almost shy, which is not how Satoru would typically describe the raven-haired boy.
“You going to stare at me for the next 24 hours or do you want to come in?” Satoru tried to bring some normalcy back into the interaction through sarcasm.
Megumi looked so pale; paler than usual. He still had not said a word, moved, or ceased in his staring.
As Satoru’s eyes scanned the boy, he noticed that Megumi looked genuinely upset. He seemed to be trying very hard to keep a neutral expression. His shoulders were tense. His hands clenched at his sides. His eyes somber.
This is going well, Satoru thought to himself.
Satoru decided he would move to the table in the middle of the room. He had noticed that it had since formed from a classroom desk into the childhood table of the Fushiguro’s.
How odd… the setting seemed to be adjusting to Megumi, yet it was Satoru who had died. Though Satoru had only experienced this with Suguru, whom had shared the same fondest and happiest times, as Satoru. It was not like anyone truly understood all the mechanics of how this worked. The only information people had was the information of those who are alive and pulled into these impact meetings. The dead’s perspective of the events was not able to be documented.
Maybe Satoru had more than one happiest time without himself knowing.
Megumi slowly followed Satoru, cautiously entering the room. He sat at the table and looked down, pulling his legs up against his chest. He rested his chin on his knee and turned his head to the side.
“Megumi, I know this isn’t ideal for you-” Satoru started and found that he was quickly interrupted.
“Shut up. You don’t know anything about how I feel right now,” Megumi’s voice was hoarse and angry.
“Ok, you’re right. I don’t know how you feel, so tell me. Do you understand what is happening?”
Megumi refused to make eye contact with him. He stayed silent, choosing not to answer. He was looking to the left; eyes searching a wall adorned with photos and moments between them.
When had that happened? Satoru wondered.
Megumi was focused on one frame in particular, and Satoru followed his line of sight. He felt warmth bloom in his chest when he saw which moment Megumi was focused on. It was a favorite memory of Satoru’s. It was set in a golden frame, one of two, in the middle of countless memories and moments held between them.
It was a loop of Satoru teaching a very small Megumi how to ride a bike. Megumi had been relentless and headstrong; furious that he could not will the skill of riding a bike into existence and that he had to keep trying. He had initially refused any tips or pointers from Satoru. He had only relented after he had skinned his knees so badly that Satoru had had to text Shoko that she needed to come by and check it out.
Satoru saw himself laughing in the memory and helping Megumi up. In the memory, Megumi glared at Satoru, with all the sass and rage his little body contained, and then stuck his tongue out at Satoru, which had only made Satoru laugh more.
Satoru heard himself promising Megumi the next volume of his favorite manga if he kept trying. At the end of the memory, Megumi had pedaled several feet without help and was smiling. Megumi's smile was radiant to Satoru then, and it was to him now, too. He missed seeing that expression on Megumi's face. It had not and did not happen often.
Satoru felt himself grinning as he watched the memory unfold. His younger self beamed, too.
“You were so little and stubborn then. Not so little anymore, but the stubbornness hasn’t changed. Not sure how it’s possible, but I think you’re even more stubborn now,” Satoru said fondly. The smile still present on his face as he watched the memory loop again.
He heard a pained sound from across the table and instantly turned to Megumi. Gojo noticed that there were tears pooling in Megumi’s eyes.
For all the strength Satoru possessed, seeing Megumi cry always made him feel helpless.
“Megumi…” Satoru said softly, reaching a hand out across the table: an offering. One he was not sure Megumi would take.
Megumi looked at his hand, more tears falling. Megumi grasped his hand tightly.
Satoru was surprised at the strength behind it. He knew Megumi was strong, but he had never fully engaged in any touch from Satoru. It was always a half-hearted side hug or tolerating Satoru touching his hair or a barely there fist bump. And as he got older, he tolerated less and less from Satoru, to the point where Satoru could not remember the last time they had touched.
Satoru quietly held Megumi’s hand as the boy started to sob. He seemed to be struggling to breath with how hard he was crying.
“Megumi, I need you to breath with me, please, kid,” Satoru said.
Megumi’s eyes briefly met his own, and he nodded.
Satoru breathed in and out slowly, relaxing slightly as Megumi mimicked him. Satoru continued to focus on his breath as he guided Megumi.
Once Megumi’s breathing was regulated and his crying calmed, Satoru stood up and pulled Megumi along with him to the couch. He then pulled the boy’s face to his chest. Megumi started sobbing harder than before in response; chest heaving and body shaking. Satoru gently rubbed his back as he cried.
He was genuinely shocked. The kid never let himself cry. Though Satoru supposed he should not be surprised. Megumi had lost his mother, been abandoned by his father, lost his sister to a curse and killed her through Sukuna’s possession… and then ultimately, had taken Satoru’s life, too. Though, Satoru did not hold Megumi responsible for Sukuna's actions.
Satoru was not sure how long they sat like this. Satoru noticed Megumi had stopped dry heaving and was now shallowly breathing. His face still pushed into Satoru’s chest. Satoru gently ran his fingers through Megumi’s hair.
Satoru noticed that Megumi seemed to have fallen asleep.
Satoru would let him rest for a bit.
As he contemplated their time together, Satoru knew that he had to tell Megumi the truth about his father. This was truly his only chance.
Hopefully, he could find more bravery in death than he was capable of in life.