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Snow had started blanketing the city, covering everything in shades of white and gray, festive lights breaking through the gloom of winter. Jujutsu High had been buzzing with an unusual warmth, the air filled with laughter and the crinkling of wrapping paper. It was Christmas Eve, and the students were in high spirits, preparing for a secret santa holiday party Yuji had insisted on organizing. Even the usually somber hallways were filled with a sense of lightheartedness as holiday decorations hung haphazardly on the walls - courtesy of Gojo.
He watched through his dark glasses from a distance, leaning against the frame of an open door as the first year students bustled around. Megumi was busy helping Yuji wrap a gift - some ridiculously oversized plush that had been picked out as a joke. Nobara was rummaging through a bag of snacks and small trinkets, sorting them into different stockings, discreetly tucking her favorites aside for herself. Gojo smiled, feeling a flicker of warmth at the sight of his students enjoying themselves, seeing them get the chance to be normal teens for once. They were stronger, confident, and he was immensely proud of them.
“Gojo!” Yuji called out, waving enthusiastically when he noticed his teacher standing there. “You’re just in time! I’m just about to show Nobara how to bake cookies! You can join!”
Gojo's smile faltered for a moment, and he gave Yuji a half-hearted wave. “I appreciate the offer, but I have some other things I need to take care of. You guys go ahead and have lots of fun.”
Nobara marched over to him, hands on her hips. “Oh come on, Gojo-sensei! You can’t seriously bail on christmas! We need somebody to judge the ugly sweaters, and you’re the only one with terrible enough fashion sense to do it!”
Gojo laughed, pretending to be offended at her remark. “I’ll have you know that I’m a fashion icon.”
Yuji pouted at him from behind her. “You’re always busy, it’s not gonna be the same without you! Stay for a bit.”
Gojo looks at them - his students, his responsibility, and in so many different ways, his chance at something like family. Their eagerness to include him was touching him in a way he couldn’t quite form into words, but the weight and significance of this day pressed down on him, and he couldn’t bring himself to join their festivities. Not tonight.
“Next year,” Gojo said, his voice tinged with a faint, uncharacteristic sadness. “I promise I’ll be there. But tonight, I have something else I need to take care of.”
“You sure, sensei? We can always wait up for you-”
Gojo shook his head, trying to keep his expression light. “That’s not necessary Yuji, it's just a personal thing.” He ruffled Yuji’s hair playfully, trying to ease any concerns. “Just have an extra great time for me, kay?”
Nobara opened her mouth to protest, but Megumi caught her arm, slightly shaking her head. Megumi already went through this every Christmas he has spent with Gojo. He’d disappear all night, then come back the next day a little more strained. He recognized the heaviness, the faraway look appeared every December, and he knew they couldn’t convince Gojo to stay.
Gojo gave them a bright smile, feeling the weight of their concerned gaze on his back as he walked away. As much as he loved his students, there were still parts of his life he couldn’t share with them, parts that were too raw, too personal. Parts that he couldn’t share, with anyone.
He made his way out of the school, their laughter picking up again and fading into the distance as he ventured into the cold evening air. Snow crunched beneath his feet and he shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he headed towards the outskirts of the city - to a quiet, unassuming place that held more memories than he cared to admit.
—
Gojo arrived at a long abandoned graveyard, his breath visible in the crisp night air. The place was quiet, untouched by the holiday cheer that had spread throughout the city. Snow covered the ground in a pristine white sheet, and the sky above remained a muted gray, the sun having long since dipped below the horizon. Gojo’s footsteps were the only sound as he navigated the familiar path to a secluded spot in the back, underneath an old willow tree where a crude stone marker stood.
He knelt beside the stone, carefully brushing off the snow that had gathered on top of the surface. The name Suguru Geto stood out darkly against the stone, and he traced over it with his finger, feeling the cold, hard permanence of it. There was no picture, no dates, nothing indicating who he had been, just a name. A reminder of what had been lost.
Gojo sat back, resting against the marker as he stared up through the tree branches at the dull sky. The cold immediately seeped through his clothes - he hadn’t bothered to change into anything warm, - but he let the chill anchor him in that moment.
“Hey, Suguru,” he spoke softly, his voice breaking the heavy silence. “I’m back again. Surprise, right? It’s Christmas Eve. Remember how much you hated it? You’d always complain about the tackiness and commercialization, but you always let me drag you out to see the lights anyways.”
He held his arms across his chest, pulling his knees up as well, the snow continuing to fall around him. “I’ve gotta say, you’ve picked the absolute worst spot for this. It’s freezing out here. Why couldn’t you have died somewhere that stays warmer?” Gojo forced a laugh, but it was strained. “Next year, I’m gonna drag your marker to Okinawa, how’s that sound?”
Gojo paused, letting himself sit in the quiet before continuing. “I saw the kids earlier. Megumi, Yuji, Nobara. They’re growing up fast. Stronger every day. They wanted me to stay for this christmas party thing they’re having. Apparently I'm the life of a party.” He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He took his glasses off, setting them on the frozen ground next to him. “I told them I couldn’t do it this year… not tonight.”
The cold began to creep into his bones, but Gojo stayed put, stubbornly refusing to move from his spot. He pulled his phone out with half numb hands, flipping it to look at nanami’s contact. His thumb hovered over the call button, the thought of reaching out tugging at him.
“Nanami’s been, a bit different lately,” Gojo continued, almost as if he expected a response from the cold stone. “We’ve been talking. A lot, actually. He’s not like you, but… he’s got your kind of quiet. I can sit in the silence with him, and it isn’t so suffocating.”
Gojo laughed again, but it was a hollow sound. “God, you’d probably think I’m pathetic right now. Sitting out here, freezing my ass off in the snow to talk to a rock. Maybe this is just where I've ended up - stuck in the past. Still trying to make sense of why things turned out the way they did.”
The wind picked up, a sharp breeze that stung Gojo’s face like needles. He begrudgingly adjusted how he was sitting, trying to get comfortable against the unyielding cold ground. “Damn it Suguru, you couldn’t have at least picked a warmer day to die? I guess you always were a pain in the ass, making everything difficult.”
Gojo’s voice softened, and his expression grew distant. “I miss you, you know. Every day. I keep trying to move on, but some days it feels like I’m just dragging you along with me. I keep thinking about what you’d say. If you’d just laugh at how hard I’m trying, or if you’d be proud of how I'm doing… you were supposed to be here, Suguru.” He paused, his throat tightening. “God… I hope you’re proud of me.”
He looked down at his phone again, Nanami’s contact still open. He wanted to call, to hear a voice that wasn’t his own echoing through the empty graveyard, but that felt selfish. To drag someone else into his grief, into memories that refused to let him go. Besides, Nanami was probably busy. He imagined him with family or friends, at a nice dinner under warm candlelight, or at the very least enjoying some well deserved peace and quiet away from work.
Gojo sighed, his breath clouding in front of him, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “I don’t even know what I’m doing Suguru. It’s been years, and I’m still sitting here, talking to you like I can get some kind of closure by freezing to death in the snow.”
He let his head rest against the cold stone, letting his eyes shut against the flood of emotions in his chest.
“Nanami would probably have something wise to say,” Gojo mused aloud, his voice tinged with a bit of longing and sadness. “He’s good at that. Knows just what to say without saying too much. I can’t call him, not on a night like this. He deserves better than to be dragged into my mess again… everyone deserves better.”
The snow continued to fall, covering the place in a quiet stillness. Gojo felt the chill deep in his bones, but he refused to move, stubbornly clinging to the uncomfortable numbness as if it were penance.
“You know, I could be inside right now,” He joked, breath fogging the air. “I could be drinking hot chocolate, watching stupid holiday movies. But no, I’m here, freezing my ass off for a dead guy.”
He laughed, but the sound quickly faded. It was replaced by the lingering ache that brought him here in the first place.
“I wish you were here,” Gojo whispered, his voice barely audible. “I wish… I don’t know anymore.”
Just as his thoughts began to spiral, his phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the stillness. He pulled it out, expecting another holiday message from his students, but instead he saw Nanami’s name overtaking the screen. Gojo hesitated, debating on wether he should answer or not. Why would Nanami be calling him? He could easily let it go to voicemail, pretend he hadn’t seen it - but he knew Nanami wouldn’t let it drop that easily.
With a resigned sigh, Gojo answered, his voice strained. “Nanami! Didn’t think I’d be hearing from you tonight.”
Nanami’s voice came through, calm and even, “Gojo, why is Itadori blowing up my phone saying you’ve abandoned them?”
Gojo rubbed his forehead, the guilt settling even deeper into his chest. “I just, kinda left without joining in their festivities.” He glazed at Geto’s marker, feeling the sting of his own choices. “It’s just… todays a day I had to spend with… someone else.” He hesitated, before laughing at himself. “I’m sorry, that sounds stupid. I’m at Geto’s grave. Well, my makeshift one for him.”
Nanami was silent for a moment, absorbing the weight of Gojo’s words. “I understand,” he said finally, voice remaining steady. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
Gojo let out a bitter laugh this time, shaking his head. “I’m always alone, that’s kind of why I’m here. It’s not exactly something I can invite people to, you know? Honestly… it’s pathetic, Nanami. I'm freezing in the snow, talking to a grave marker. I don’t know why I keep doing this.”
“It’s not pathetic Gojo. You’re allowed to grieve, but you still shouldn’t be alone. Could… Can I join you?” Nanami’s voice was gentle, lacking even a hint of judgment.
Gojo blinked, taken aback by the offer. He hadn’t even expected Nanami to reach out, let alone offer to join him in the middle of a graveyard on christmas eve. “You don't have to. Don’t you have… anything better to do?”
“I dont,” Nanami said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Tell me where you are.”
Gojo hesitated, before finally relenting, giving Nanami directions on how to get to him. The call ended with a quiet click, and Gojo tucked his phone away. He rested his face on his hand, looking at the stone marker again. “You don’t mind, right? I mean, you never disliked him… “
Eventually, Gojo heard the crunch of footsteps on snow, and he looked up to see Nanami approaching, bundled against the harsh cold with his usual composed expression. He didn’t say much as he immediately settled on the ground beside Gojo, setting down a bag infront of him. He took a moment to take in the quiet scene- the various old worn down graves, the heavy tree looming over head, giving little protection against the elements, and the simple marker bearing Geto’s name.
“You didn’t have to come,” Gojo said, trying to sound casual, though his voice wavered.
Nanami glanced at him, his expression calm but resolute. “I wanted to,” he repulsed simply, He reached into his bag, pulling out a thick coat that he draped over Gojo’s shoulders. “Put this on, I’m surprised you haven’t frozen to death already.”
Gojo gratefully accepted the coat without argument, feeling warmth spread through him as he slipped into it. Nanami then pulled out a bottle of alcohol that was expensive for even Gojo’s taste. He eyed the bottle before looking at Nanami. “What’s this? Trying to get me drunk again?”
Nanami offered a small, wry smile, setting it down as he pulled a glass out of the bag. “Not quite. I thought we could just have a drink, for memories.” He set one glass in front of himself and one in front of Gojo. “To us, for making it this far.”
He pulled out two more, placing both of them in front of the stone. “And for the memory of Geto, and…”
Nanami slightly hesitated, and Gojo felt guilt smash into his lungs like a truck. Here he’d been rambling to Nanami, being weepy about Geto, and he didn’t even think of the fact Nanami’s lost someone too. “And Haibara.”
Nanami nodded, filling the glasses with the same careful precision he applied to everything in his life. Gojo tightly smiled at him and they clinked their glasses, the sound resonating softly in the night. They drank, the warmth of the alcohol cutting through the chill, and for the next few hours, they shared stories. They reminisced about highschool, recounting mission, and they laughed, finding solace in being together.
Gojo found himself opening, talking about things he hadn’t spoken of in years, sharing stories of quiet conversations held on rooftops, or the time Geto tried to pierce Gojo’s ears and he took it like a bitch. Nanami listened, sharing his own stories of him and Haibara, from a time they all believed they were invincible.
The night wore on, and the bottle between them slowly emptied, but Gojo felt a warmth that had little to do with the alcohol. This quiet companionship had given him something he hadn’t realized he needed- a chance to share memories, without the weight of judgment or expectation. As the snow continued to fall, Gojo stared at Geto’s marker, his thoughts still tangled but a little less heavy.
Nanami checked his watch, noting the fact that they were past being out late, approaching the hours of early morning. “It’s getting late,” Nanami said, his tone gentle with an edge of concern. “Are you going to be okay going back on your own?”
Gojo glanced at Nanami, then back at the marker, a small smile spreading across his face. “I’ll be fine. I’m not drunk enough to go off stumbling into traffic, the cold is sobering”
Nanami’s brow furrowed slightly, still hesitant. “It’s not just that. Tonights been a lot.”
Gojo chuckled softly, touched by the concern even as he tried to brush it off. “I’ll be okay. Seriously. This helped a lot.” He glanced down at the untouched glasses, left for Geto and Haibara, peeling a stab of sadness. “Thank you, Nanami.”
Nanami nodded, not entirely convinced but willing to trust Gojo’s judgment. “If you need anything-”
“I know, I know,” Gojo cut in, offering a reassuring smile. “I’ll call. Promise.”