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The bag filled with food he had ordered for the two of them was lazily hanging around his arm as he lifted his other to gently knock at the door. He raised a brow as he received no answer and after another minute of silence, he reached for the spare-key Satoru had given him a while back. He unlocked the door and pushed it open.
Suguru froze in place, bag falling from his arm as he took in the sight in front of him. The white strands of hair that couldn't be mistaken and the blue, wary eyes that were now looking up at him, slightly widening in shock as he seemed to slowly sink back to reality. His face flushed red from tears.
"He is crying," Suguru realized in utter shock and panic. It is then that he noticed the knife next to him and his breath stops as he saw the red, sticky liquid dropping down from it.
" 'Toru ...," he whispered, sitting down infront of the white haired and Suguru's hands hovered over his wrists, silently asking for permission.
"Suguru." The weak voice sent a shiver through his whole body and he instead moved his hands under Satoru's armpits, pulling him up and into a hug, careful not to hurt him. He could hear the other sobbing against his shoulder, wetting his uniform in the process. But Suguru didn't care about that.
They sat like this for a while before Satoru's sobs turned silent. Slowly, Suguru shoved the taller one away from him just a bit to look him in the eyes, holding him steady by his shoulders. His grip gentle as if Satoru would vanish if he would hold him too tight.
It had been a hard time these last few weeks, Satoru completely overworking himself. Suguru didn't blame him.
"Let's get you cleaned up, hm?" he offered and tilted his head to the side, questioning if the taller male was able to stand up in his condition. Also because he didn't know how much blood he had lost.
Suguru waited for a response, fingers softly kneading Satoru's shoulders to soothe him a bit. He'd never been good at comforting others, not even knowing how to comfort himself, really, but he was trying. And it seemed to work somehow.
"Just ... a second," Satoru mumbled, pressing his forehead against Suguru's chest. Suguru slowly raised a hand and twirled his fingers through the soft white locks.
It was truly something.
The Gojo Satoru, right now all messed up and vulnerable like he'd never seen him before. It made his heart ache.
A few moments passed before Satoru slowly got up on his feet, Suguru steadying him just in case.
"Okay," was the simple answer Suguru was given before they slowly made their way to the bathroom.
He carefully placed Satoru on the toilet seat and searched through the cupboard next to the sink. He knew that the white haired owned a first-aid-kit since every bathroom at the Jujutsu High had one, an instruction from the Higher-Ups. But really it was just Shoko who brought up that idea in the first place.
"Sugu?" Satoru called out when said one found what he was looking for and quickly rushed back to the other boy.
"I'm here. Hold still," Suguru instructed him as he pressed a cotton ball with disinfection to the wounds.
"Fuck. It stings," Satoru immediately started whining. The black-haired sighed. He understood the pain all too well, not being a stranger to self-destruction himself.
That's why he started smoking a while after Amanai died. It helped, but it also wasn't healthy.
In general they hadn't talked much since her death, Satoru becoming stronger day by day while he was falling behind.
But that was okay.
"Done," Suguru said after a while and threw the now blood-soaken cotton balls into the trash before he reached for some bandages.
"Thank you," Satoru mumbled quietly while the younger one finished bandaging him up. It was rare that the spoiled heir to the Gojo-Clan was thanking someone. But out of all people, Suguru would be the most likely person to get a thanks from him.
He smiled softly and reached out a hand to caress Satoru's cheek and started wiping away some of the tears.
"No problem," he replied in a whispering tone that was so full of fondness.
They sat there for a few minutes, listening to each others breath, enjoying the comfort of one another.
"Now let's get you to bed," Suguru then said after a while. Satoru nodded and they walked back into the bedroom.
He watched Satoru climb into the bed and sat down at the egde of it, watching the soft face of the other one.
He stayed next to him until he was sure Satoru was asleep before he quietly snuck out the room to go to his own.
Before, they often shared a bed, but since the incident happened, they went back to sleeping seperately.
The day after, Suguru was sent to a mission where he massacred an entire village.
A few days after that, Satoru confronts him. And was left empty as he returned to the Jujutsu High.
“Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest?”
"I don't understand, Shoko. Why did he do that?!" Shoko had found Satoru after he returned, broken down on the bathroom floor, crying and bleeding.
"I don't know. But it was his choice and we can't force him to come back." They were now sitting in Shoko's bedroom, sipping at the already cold tea she made to calm both his and her nerves.
The white haired whined. "I know that! It's just - Why didn't he tell me anything?" he sounded frustrated.
"Because he knew you trusted him enough when he told you everything was fine," Shoko's words were harsh but it was the truth.
Satoru believed him because he loved and trusted him. And there was nothing wrong with that.
"Why am I so stupid? I should have noticed -" Shoko interrupted him.
"It's not your fault."
"What?" he replied dumbly.
"It's not your fault," she repeated, this time a bit louder and slower.
It was dark in her room, but not dark enough to stop her from seeing the tears that formed in Satoru's eyes.
"Thank you." It was an barely audible whisper, but she heard it and a sad smile formed on her face.
Mere ten years later, he is forced to kill his one and only.