Work Text:
its been 2 months since he left. 2 months since he left you, but it could’ve been ages and it would’ve made no difference.
you remembered the moment as clear as day. “suguru killed everyone in the village.” the words of your sensei rang through your head.
he killed a whole village? your suguru? the same suguru who let you comb and wash his hair, who snuck into your dorm on nights when he couldn’t sleep, who treated you as if you were a porcelain doll who could break at any moment?
your first reaction was denial. no, no, it wasn’t him. it couldn’t be him. it was some mistake, he was framed, something, anything to take the blame off of him. it got you nowhere.
you remember the conversation you had with him just days before. you were both sat at a table outside of the school. the once blue sky was now a mix of yellow and orange, signaling the fact that the two of you had stayed after far too long.
“[name]?” he asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“hm?” you sat up a bit straighter.
“do you enjoy being a jujutsu sorcerer?”
you blinked at him. “what?”
“do you?”
“well,” you started, “i enjoy helping people. thats what we do, right?”
“yeah, i guess,” he sighed, “but don’t you ever get….tired? why do we have to bear the weight of doing….this?”
“someone has to do it, and that someone just happens to be us,” you say matter-of-factly, staring at the old, wooden table in front of you.
“sometimes, i wish that we could live in a world without curses. a would where we could just exist,” he admits, a conflicted look on his face.
“who doesn’t?” an undertone of uncertainty lines your otherwise confident voice. “as long as people emit cursed energy, there will be curses, and as long as there are curses, we’ll have to exorcise them.”
“….what if we got rid of them? the normies. the non sorcerers? no cursed energy emitted, no curses.” he says.
you scoff at the presumed hypothetical. “that would be one hell of a process.”
that should’ve been a warning sign, a blaring red flag saying something was wrong, but how were you supposed to know that he would do something like this? your suguru. the same suguru who always said that the strong should protect the weak.
you’re a porcelain doll, and you’re chipped and cracking.
he had been your anchor, keeping you grounded in a world where things were absurd and your life wasn’t always promised. without him, you were as good as a piece of plastic, drifting through the water, carried by the waves.
you could hardly remember the next few months. time was no longer linear, now a blur of disorientingly fast and excruciatingly slow, the days an incomprehensible blur.
you were lost, so lost that you shut everything and everyone out. they weren’t him. they would never be him. you lashed out and locked yourself in.
you spent far too much time in your room now. it was quiet. too quiet. the same room that you and him used to find sanctuary in, on nights when you only had eachother, was now deafeningly silent.
you spent the days thinking and rethinking over. what could i have done differently? was this a sign that things were going downhill for him? had i done anything to push him over the edge? what had i done wrong?
your questions were left unanswered. he hadn’t even told you anything before he left, the bastard.
it left you thinking if you ever meant anything at all to him, if any of it was real. the lines between real and fake were blurring, your mind and world an indiscernible mess—
—which is why you almost think your hallucinating when you see his figure, looming over you while you lay in bed.
its 2am and a shift in your room has you stirring in your sleep. your eyes blink open, and half-awake, you scan your field of view, looking for what the source could be. then, you spot him.
a silhouette in the darkness of your dorm room, right at the foot of your bed.
you flinch awake, sitting straight up and pulling on your bedside lamp, and there he is.
“suguru?”
“[name].” he says simply, a half smile rested on his lips. that voice. you had missed that voice so badly, playing old voicemails over and over, but now its him. its him! he’s back, he’s here—
—oh.
oh no.
no, no, he can’t be here. you shoot out of the bed, heart pattering. “suguru, you- you cant be here-“ you say, panic lacing your voice.
“why not?” he asks in mock innocence, that same smile on his face. you’re not sure if you want to slap or kiss it off of him.
“they’ll kill you,” you plead in a hushed tone. hands now grasping his arms.
“and you won’t?” you pause at his question. you should. you should be screaming and clawing at him, but you won’t. he knows you won’t. you know you won’t.
“they have a warrant out for your murder, if they find out you’re here-“ he laughs, a laugh devoid of humor, and you don’t understand. how could he be so calm about all of this?
“please, you need to go.” you beg, voice cracking. you should be alerting someone that he’s here, you know this well, but instead you’re letting him leave. why?
“[name], please, just calm down for me, okay?” he says. part of you still wants to be upset, but his voice combined with his hand now rested on your cheek soothes a few of your nerves.
these same hands have killed many, you’re forced to remind yourself.
“why did you do it?” you ask him almost instantaneously, causing his confident facade to waver.
“…..they were non-sorcerers, monkeys, parasites to society. they needed to be eradicated.” you stay silent, not agreeing but also not disagreeing with his words.
“so that’s what your plan is? kill all non-sorcerers?” you ask in disbelief. he nods.
“that’s insane. you’re insane. i didn’t think you were being serious.”
“but you agree, don’t you? that non-sorcerers are a parasite to humanity?”
“they’re humans, just like us.” you argue.
“they’re lesser than us,” he argues back, trying to make you understand, needing to make you understand, “and i know you agree deep down.”
“thats not the point!” you exclaim.
“[name].”
“suguru.” you practically whine his name.
“come with me.”
“…what?” i stare at him in disbelief. “you heard me.” he says.
“no, no, i can’t-“ you start, but your heart says yes, yes, yes.
“why not?” he asks. “we could be happy.”
“you- you’re a murderer.” you exclaim, backing away, trying to remind yourself more than anything.
“i did it for us. for you.” he says firmly. you scoff in response. “don’t pull that shit on me.” “i did. fuck, [name], do you really want this? to be stuck another cog in their machine? i want better for you, for us, for all sorcerers.”
you’re a porcelain doll, and you’re shattering.
tears burn at your eyelids as you try to gather your thoughts and think of what to say. he steps closer and cradles your face in his hands as if you’re the most fragile thing in the world. you lack the willpower to shove him away.
and then he kisses you. he kisses you so softly that you almost don’t even realize he’s kissing you. his lips are on yours, gentle at first but gradually turning greedier. he wants- no, needs all of you.
you pull away for air, gasping and panting. “you’re so beautiful.” he blurts out. you don’t even realize your crying until he wipes the tears rolling down your cheeks away, pulling you into a warm embrace. god, you missed this.
“i miss you.” your voice is muffled against his chest as he draws comforting patterns on your back.
“i miss you too,” he replies.
“i don’t want you to go.” your voice is meek and small. you feel vulnerable. “then come. come with me.”
you look up at him. “i can’t just leave. its not that simple.” suguru knows you’re right. he squeezes you one last time and then lets you out of his hold.
“just…think about it, okay?” he asks.
“i will.” he places a soft kiss on your forehead and then starts to the window he entered through.
“you know where to find me.” he smiles and summons a curse outside the window, hopping onto it and soaring away.
he leaves you in the room, alone, too many words unsaid.
you’re a porcelain doll and your shattered, but broken things can always be glued back together, can’t they?