Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The war had now been declared. While Japan had seen Christmas Eve as a romantic holiday, a finale to Valentine’s Day and White Day, Suguru hoped it would now be seen as the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons. It could still end up romantic in the end depending on how Satoru reacted. He may hate him for this, but there’s a slim chance Satoru will finally see that all this work from the past decade was for him. A chance for him to finally be relieved of the weight of the world on his shoulders. But the glare, he could sense it behind the wraps, hinted he wouldn’t see it as a gift at all. He would blame Suguru for any pain he felt, even though the real reason was that damn monkey. Fushiguro Toji. 

Suguru sighed watching his girls order crepes. While he tried to teach them about how dangerous and disgusting monkeys were, they loved the products they made - Nanako especially. They sat on a park bench, as they ate their crepes. Nanako chomped on her whipped cream and strawberry crepe while Mimiko nibbled on her vanilla custard and cream one. A few people— monkeys passed by them as he edged away from them. 

Nanako swallowed the last bits of her crepe as she scrolled on her phone, groaning at the depleting battery. She leaned her head against her palm as she observed the non-sorcerers passing by. Her eyes stared at a few couples walking around the park. 

Two young teens (fresh into high school or late middle school) were on a nearby ice rink. The couple tried to hold on to each other, clearly not used to the ice. A nearby friend, he assumed, filmed them happily circling them. On the sideline were two older boys, college-aged, watching them; well, one was glaring at the boy as he fed his, what he assumed, boyfriend. 

Further away was a young teen boy with sunshine blonde hair, more clearly in high school, flirting with a group of girls. Behind him was a group of other teens looking tired at him, especially the teen with glasses. The said bespectacled teen walked over and smacked the boy with a notebook before dragging him away from the group of girls. 

Nanako hummed, turning away as she spied two older men, around Geto-sama’s age, coming out of a shop. The two, one tall and muscular and the other slim and feminine with glasses, came out of the shop arguing about something. They argued to the point their noses touched against each other. Nanako was about to turn away but quietly gasped when the muscular half pecked the other half making him blush deeply. A folding fan appeared in between their faces, clearly one of them was embarrassed. 

“Geto-sama,” called Nanako, making Suguru hum in reply. “Would you ever find someone to date for Christmas Eve?”

Suguru choked at the question, coughing to compose himself. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re a handsome person, Geto-sama. After the Night Parade, a lot of Sorcerers might pop up and join you after seeing your power,” pointed out Nanako. “I hate to break to ya, but Mimiko and I can’t spend every Christmas Eve with you.”

“Why not?” whispered Mimiko, only halfway through her crepe. 

Nanako groaned, “Because, I don’t know about you, but I want to date a powerful Sorcerer one of these days. And if you get rid of all non-sorcerers on Christmas Eve, my dating pool will immediately have the trash taken out, at least in Kyoto.”

Humming in thought, Mimiko looked around the park and stared at two teens in a very heated snowball fight. The short redhead was quick to dodge the incoming snow, but eventually jumped on the way taller teen with black hair and planted a kiss on his cheek yelling about their scores. “I don’t know, dating seems… loud.”

It can be.

Suguru’s certain that if he dated Satoru it would be loud. He would complain about being tired. He would whine about being hungry, but would only take sweets as the acceptable food. He would laugh at the dumbest things like those teens Mimiko watched. 

His life had been pretty silent for the past decade. 

“Christmas Eve should not be seen as romantic,” snapped Suguru, standing from the bench - ready to summon a curse. “Japan already has Valentine’s Day and White Day. Christmas Eve is a Western holiday that infested this country. Even in the West, it’s not seen as romantic. It’s a ‘family’ holiday. Please, like these monkeys know anything about family.”

Nanako and Mimiko shared a look before Nanako asked, “Geto-sama, do you really hate Christmas that much?”

“It’s a meaningless holiday,” replied Suguru, summoning the curse. “Come, girls, let’s head home.”

When Suguru arrived at the temple, he was met with his various members slacking on the job. Larue texted on his phone with a dopey grin and took pictures of his shirtless self - how he could not freeze to death amazed Suguru. Negi stood on the sidelines and smiled at Suguru rushing over to him. 

“Welcome back Geto-sama!” greeted Negi, to which Suguru returned the greeting.

Manami scoffed at Negi’s excitement as she scrolled on her tablet with a hum, across from her Miguel was on the phone whispering to whoever was on the other end. Suguru scanned his members, few as they were, and asked, “Why are none of you preparing for tomorrow?”

“It’s Christmas Eve, Geto-sama,” replied Manami, as if that was enough reason. “Many of us needed to rearrange our schedules for this, you know.”

“Yes, I had to inform my family that I had to cancel going to Christmas,” answered Miguel, surprisingly annoyed. “Why must you do this plan on Christmas Eve? Why not on a different holiday?”

Suguru scoffed. “Christmas Eve and Christmas aren’t even public holidays in this country.”

“Sooo, why are we doing it on Christmas Eve then?” asked Larue, genuinely. “Like I didn’t have plans, but I can’t help but ask.”

Suguru held back a growl as he answered, “Because—”

Because these monkeys love this holiday.

Because it's a day of supposed joy.

Because it’s…

“—It’s the perfect time to strike.” 

Meaningless. 

It’s a meaningless holiday.

With a forced calming breath he added, “If you wish to back out from our mission, feel free to do so. But do be here tomorrow morning to prepare for war at sundown. Come girls, I’ll make dinner and we can rest for the battle.”

After an uneventful dinner, Suguru went to his bedroom and watched the stars at night. He remembered that he and Satoru sneaked to rooftops nearly a decade ago to watch the sky. Apparently, Satoru had a hard time sleeping — his Six Eyes would keep him awake at the oddest hours. 

He wondered if Satoru was awake now.

Stripping his robes off, he slipped on his nightwear to sit on his bed. Far too much cursed energy in the air as it got closer to midnight. He remembered a lesson Yaga taught how the fear of time and dates made curses more active. That’s why they appeared more in the dark, that’s why they popped up more in the hours of ten pm to four am. Grabbing a journal, he logged down the day when a harsh wind entered his room. 

With a groan, he stood up to close his window. The chill of winter, nipped at his skin as he refused to curse the wind for bothering him. Shutting the window, he walked back to his bed, in hopes of relaxing before a day of war. Merely taking a few steps, the window rattled harshly like someone trying to break in. Muttering to himself about the wind did nothing as he slipped back into bed ignoring the rattling of the window. If someone was that idiotic to break into his home, they deserved death a thousand times over. 

“Man, you look worse now than after that fight.”

Suguru, summoning a centipede curse, turned to the intruder and froze. His curse clicked in confusion at his fear. 

It couldn’t be…

But it was the same face. That same damn face.

The black hair that reached his ears with bangs that brushed against those poisonous green eyes. The thin black eyebrows curved down lazily to match that devilish smile highlighting that damn scar at the corner of his right lip. 

He was still the tall man in the tight-fitted shirt highlighting the muscles made to kill. The only difference was the obvious hole in his body that took his entire left arm, half of his torso, and partially of his hip on the same side. The hole glowed an eerie purple as it pulsed cursed energy forming chains around his whole body. 

While seemingly, partially transparent like a reflection in a window. There was no mistaking who stood before him.

Fushiguro Toji. The Sorcerer Killer. 

No, it couldn’t be. He was dead. Satoru killed him. 

“Who are you?” choked out Suguru, resisting the urge to summon another curse and attack this… phantom .

Toji—no the phantom brushed against his hair as he asked, “Wouldn’t the better question be who I was ? But, eh, you probably knew me as Fushiguro Toji, none of that Zenin crap, got it kid.”

He scoffed. Kid? He was practically the same age as Toji when he attacked all those years ago. 

“I think the better question is what are you?” asked Suguru, if he was a curse maybe he could absorb—

“Not a Cursed Spirit if that’s what you’re wondering,” said Toji, taking a seat by the window - the wind now dying down completely. “I think… I think I’m a ghost.”

“You think?” repeated Suguru, this thing might think this was normal but no chance in hell was going to drop his guard. 

Toji, or whatever this curse wanted to think it was, shrugged. “I get you don’t believe me—”

“I don’t.”

“—but it is what it is. I don’t know where I was before this, probably whatever Hell I deserve. But you can’t believe all the shit you’ve seen and not think a ghost is real. Like that’s pretty small-minded of you,” finished Toji. 

“ Because ghosts don’t exist,” argued Suguru, returning his curse to his inventory. “What monkeys believe are ghosts are simply curses manifested to fit those fears. If that fear just so happens to look like a person, that's their own madness. When a soul dies, they either go to whatever afterlife they deserve or—”

“—become a Cursed Spirit?” finished Toji, leaning against his palm. “Like that Curse, you're after. That poor girl really got the short end of the stick in her death. Well, what do you think I am then, kid ? Am I a ghost? A Curse? Or simply your madness taking over?”

“You’re nothing but a filthy illusion of a monkey that died a decade ago,” bit back Suguru. “I probably fell asleep and am dreaming now.”

“You dream of me?” asked Toji with a chuckle. “Not of your little Six-Eyed boy toy?”

A flare of anger surged in his body as instinctively curses were summoned out and surrounded this apparition. “You do not speak of Satoru like that.”

Toji looked at the curses, bored, as he walked through them getting closer to him. As he got closer he grabbed the end of his chain that choked around his neck. The screech of chains echoed in the room reminding him of that fateful battle between the two. As he pulled the chain, a blade came out of where his heart would reside - kanji was written on it that read ‘blessing’, how ironic. He held up the blade to Suguru’s neck a faint touch of the tip of the blade, but with none of the pain, beside his back pressed against the wall. 

“If you are Fushiguro Toji,” said Suguru, holding back his volume out of habit to avoid the cut of the phantom blade. “Why are you here tonight? Why come to me? Sadly, I’m not the one that killed you.”

“Don’t get it twisted, brat , I’m not here for purely selfless reasons. If you want to ruin your own life, go right ahead. You’re not the only guy I haunt, but some… thing told me that tonight is one chain that will link to a horrible end for the one thing still alive that I give a shit about,” answered Toji, his eyes colder than he’s ever seen before. 

Not even when he shot through the head of Amanai. 

“And who might that be?” asked Suguru, masking his fear and confusion.

“That’s the thing… I don’t remember. It’s still… blurry,” admitted Toji, his eyes fogging up before clearing back up to stare at him. “You ain’t getting no comfort from me by trying to act sympathetic, I know your opinion about us monkeys . But I want you to think about what the hell you’re planning for tomorrow. You want to get rid of us so badly, and for what reason?”

“To make a better world for Sorcerers,” answered Suguru. 

Toji snorted. “Yeah, cause killing most of the population will do that.”

“Says the Sorcerer Killer,” fired back Suguru. “If you wanted to warn me not to start this journey, you’re about ten years too late.”

Toji shrugged. “Look, I killed and knew I was a killer and a selfish bastard at that. I never lied to myself about what I was. But you ? You still have a chance, kid. So far, you only snapped once and only killed other selfish pricks like me. So listen closely, Geto Suguru, I got a message.”

“Give me the message and leave ,” said Suguru. 

“Like I said, I’m here for selfish reasons. Maybe if I save your ass I’ll go somewhere and see… her again. So, I’m here to warn you. Cut this shit out now . If you don’t, you’re going to end up in a worse place than I am when you kick the bucket.”

Suguru snorted at the warning. Really? Fushiguro Toji? He wanted to save Suguru? After being the sole reason he ruined his life? 

“Don’t laugh. Look, you'll be visited by three… Cursed Spirits, I guess,” said Toji, finally taking a step back and placing his phantom blade back in his chest, the chains wrapping tighter around his mauled body. “I say Cursed Spirits because apparently, they do this shit often and like to change their appearance to fit with whatever soul they think they can save.”

“Really? Three Spirits are coming to visit me on this single night?” asked Suguru, sarcasm dripping in his tone. He must be dreaming, and with it being so close to that damn holiday. 

“Hey, I’m just a messenger, brat. Don’t listen to them if you want, I couldn't care less. They’ll start to visit when the clock turns one and the next two will appear an hour after the other,” explained Toji, pointing to a digital clock beside his bed, he turned his body to the window, but gave him one look back. “But remember this Geto Suguru, there are fates worse than death.”

With those final words, the phantom walked toward the window. A burst of wind blew it open as the chains pulsed brighter and brighter with each step toward it. He grew more transparent with each step until all that was left was the sound of chains and the glow of purple. As it exited the window, the ball of purple exploded like a supernova, only leaving sparks of red and blue before disappearing entirely into the void of the night sky. 

Suguru stood in shock, before slamming the window shut and locking it. Whatever this interaction was… a dream, a nightmare, an illusion, whatever it was did not deter him from his goal. His hand rubbed his throat where that phantom blade rested. Pulling back, there was a dot of blood resting on his thumb. The blood went cold fast and coagulated into a mere smear on his finger. The harsh crimson darkened to almost black immediately as the gel turned to flake that he could flick off.

Whatever this was… it was certainly an experience. 

A meaningless experience.

The wind had died down significantly in the last hour, and Suguru relaxed in his bed. Memories of the past decade flooded his mind after the horrible nightmare of Toji. Before he could fall into a restful sleep, his clock beside him went off. Bolting awake, he rushed to turn it off as the time stared back at him.

01:00 AM.

“They’ll start to visit when the clock turns one…”

No, it was a mere coincidence. 

He tried to shut off the alarm, but the alarm echoed in the room, like a heartbeat. 

Beep. Beep.

“You’ll do great things Suguru.”

BEEP. BEEP. 

“Why aren’t you sad Gojo?”

“... I think I forgot how to feel sad.”

BEEP! BEEP!

“I want to stay with everyone a bit longer. I want to go more places and see more things with everyone… more!”

“Riko…let’s go home.”

Beep…… Beep.

“I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

…

“It was supposed to be a simple mission to take out a Grade 2 Curse! Damn it!”

Bee—

“Suguru, have you come home to vis—?”

Suguru grabbed the clock then yanked it from the wall and threw it to the wall. With heavy breaths, he tried to calm himself staring at the now broken alarm clock. At least that incessant beeping stopped. 

“Wow, I never thought you had a temper, Geto-senpai.”

Suguru turned and froze, by the window - that same damn window - to see a figure he knew was a ghost. That short dark brown hair with thin eyebrows curved up to show off the passion… the life in his eyes. He still wore the Jujutsu Tech uniform with his silly modification with the unbuttoned cropped jacket. 

Suguru wished that he would change that.

Without a proper jacket, he could see the scars. Like being cleaved in half, his torso was lined with scars that flowed like a flickering flame. It matched the scar on his face that looked more like a burn than anything. But despite the scars replaced with fire and burns, he knew who stood before him.

Haibara Yuu. 

“Are you… are you… really Haibara?” asked Suguru, taking a step forward. 

Haibara tilted his head, not unlike a child. “Yes and no. I am the Cursed Spirit of the Past. I’ve taken the shape of someone who I believed would bring you comfort. Feel free to call me Haibara, if that would be easier.”

“A Cursed Spirit of the Past? What, like, of all past?” asked Suguru.

Haibara shook his head. “No, I only have the power to show your past as that is what you fear. I’m the manifestation of curses around the past. Like when people ten years later regret a marriage, the built of curses to befall former friends, and hatred toward one’s younger self.”

“I don’t fear my past,” scoffed Suguru, crossing his arms at the apparition of his former underclassman. “I have no regrets whatsoever.”

“No regrets, huh?” repeated Haibara, staring at him with the deadly innocence of a child, like before you needed to explain how their beloved pet died. “That’s a lie. Everyone has regrets of their past, even if it's something small like a bad test grade. But whatever you say, Geto-senpai. I know that you have a past haunting you. One with the name of Gojo Satoru, the Wielder of the Six Eyes and Limitless Technique. He’s a pretty large regret you have, isn’t he?”

“Do not speak of Satoru like that,” scolded Suguru.

He did not have regrets about Satoru. They made their choices. Now they have to live with said choices. 

“Either way Geto-senpai, please come with me,” begged Haibara, his eyes widening a degree that reminded him all too much of when Nanako wanted something badly. “I want to show you things. I want to see how things ended up… like this.”

With a flick of Haibara’s hand, that damn window burst open. Holding out his hand, Suguru stared at it in shock then at the window. He tried to summon a curse when Haibara stopped him. With a shake of his head, Haibara added, “No need for your curses tonight. Just take my hand, and I’ll do the rest.”

“I don’t know if you noticed Haibara, but I still can fall to my death,” half-joked Suguru. 

“Not tonight, not if you trust me,” said Haibara, insisting on his hand. “Please, Geto-senpai.”

With a sigh, Suguru took the hand and followed Haibara to the window. When they got closer to the window, he felt a tingling sensation shoot through his body when they walked through the wall. Holding back a gasp, Suguru followed Haibara as they walked in the air. 

Below, Suguru could see curses and monkeys milling about the night. He held back a sneer when Haibara urged him to the ground. They landed at an abandoned temple, decrepit with age, he could smell the curses lingering about. By his feet, there was a trail of soot spirits. The soot noticed them with wide eyes before chittering amongst themselves. He expected them to scatter like the mice they were, but instead, they began pushing and pulling Suguru into a burnt-down storehouse that smelled of charcoal. 

“What are we doing here?” asked Suguru, curiously.

“As Mizuta Masahide recited, ‘My barn having burned down, I can now see the moon’,” stated Haibara, snapping his finger to create a small flame. Blowing against the flame, it grew into a blaze igniting the abandoned charcoal. Suguru screamed as the fire engulfed them and visions danced in the fire. 

Two men standing before each other. 

A man with two little girls by his side.

A young man burns as he lays on a deathbed. 

In the middle of an audience, a man carries a corpse.

Two boys share a hug.

A man offering his hand to a young boy. 

More and more visions played in the fire, but like dying embers, they died out as quickly as they formed. Suguru swiped at each vision, ignoring the burn of his hands, trying to reach for Haibara, who stood in the center of these like a sun with its orbiting planets. He smiled at Suguru, holding out his hands, and with a single push, he grabbed the hands. When their palms touched, the storehouse burned around them to show them a beautiful night sky with a full moon slowly rising. 

They were no longer in Tokyo but in the countryside. A familiar countryside. 

Suguru looked around, conscious of the thousands of familiar smells invading his nose. Each scent connected to hundreds, no thousands , of memories, hopes, and joys of a dream long forgotten until now. He stared at a village that he hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. 

“This is… was my village,” whispered Suguru, in awe. 

Suguru looked in the streets of the village in awe to see old schoolmates running in the snow. Like a young Kagome chasing after one of the boys running with a puppy with snow-white fur. Little Masaya and Ichigo giving fish to a stray kitten in secret. 

He followed the path with Haibara trailing behind him. A fond smile snuck on his face as he stared face to face with the local temple. On the steps, sat two boys praying for a gentle winter. One was the son of the monk that ran the temple, Ryuuji if Suguru remembered correctly, and… himself.

His hair was much shorter back then, only down to his chin in a messy fashion. He must’ve been ten, maybe eleven, in this memory. 

They were dutifully praying when a snowball hit both of them at the back of their heads. Ryuuji swung around, his temper flaring, spotting one of the local twins trying and failing to hide he was the culprit. He apologized to a young Suguru before chasing down the troublemaker.

“What silly monkey children,” muttered Suguru. He looked up to see Haibara with a disappointed look. “What?”

“You’re lucky these are just shadows of the past, so they can’t see or hear you,” said Haibara with a solemn shake of his head. 

Something thick and toxic went up his throat at the reprimand — no it was probably a curse acting up. With a cough, Suguru asked, “So, where are we going?”

“To see where the pain started,” answered Haibara, as they followed a young Suguru… somewhere. 

Suguru took in the village with a touch of nostalgia. He remembered it well enough that if he tried hard enough he might be able to walk it blindfolded. While many memories were… decent, he could not forget the hate and hidden curses among the buildings. The school where he watched two childhood friends become heated rivals once they reached middle school - the hate forged from competition to be the best was too much for them. A park, where he remembered two friends spent all their time together when one got an injury and one left the country - a curse of broken promises lingered there. 

A young Suguru entered a home, ignoring the calls of schoolmates to come play. He slipped off his shoes and announced, “I’m home!”

“Oh, Suguru, back so soon?” 

Despite being well into his twenties, Suguru froze at the voice. He turned, that choking sensation returning full force at the sight. It was a woman with long cascading raven hair with some of it put up in a messy bun. Her warm brown eyes stared into the young Suguru with gentle kindness. 

It was none other than his mother, Geto Chihiro.

Suguru stared at the memory of his mother in shock. She looked so… young . She passed right through him, to hug his younger self - he didn’t even notice his arms raised instinctively to return the hug. His mother whispered questions to his younger self. The same questions any mother would ask: How was school? Did you have a good day? Did you make any new friends? But the one question she always asked, specifically for him, was…

“How many curses did you eat?” asked Chihiro, sweetly.

“... only two,” muttered his past self. 

Chihiro clicked her tongue as she walked back into the kitchen; returning with a tray of her famous dorayaki. Suguru wet his lips at the sight of the treat, she made it every day without fail ever since his Cursed Technique manifested. She would always say—

“Eat one dorayaki for every curse you ate. Hopefully, it will get rid of the taste,” recited the memory of his mother. She kissed his forehead before pushing him with the tray of treats toward a room that Suguru longed to forget. They followed the apparition of his younger self to a lone bedroom, he slid open the door revealing three people inside. 

One was his father, Takeshi, kneeling beside a futon. His father had the same black hair as he did, but peppered with white, and with his common brown eyes; looked like the average everyday man. Standing was the village doctor, Mamoru, he didn’t know him all that well, but even as a child he knew he had curses floating around his home and office. And on the futon, his grandmother, Geto Reiyu. All her black hair had turned white at her age, which matched her dimming violet eyes. She shushed the two men when she saw Suguru. 

“I brought you some dorayaki, obaa-chan,” whispered his young self. 

“Oh, thank you, Suguru,” thanked Reiyu, shooing away the two men. “Come sit with me, would you?”

Suguru, both present and past, followed the request and sat beside her. They cheered with one dorayaki each as Suguru recited his day to his grandmother. 

“I didn’t know you had a grandmother, Geto-senpai,” whispered Haibara in awe. He leaned against a wall as soot curses crawled in his hands and hair. 

“Everyone has a grandmother at some point. She was a sweet woman, she was actually a Sorcerer too,” replied Suguru, smiling at the sight of the woman. “Her Technique was called Spirit Guide. She said she could guide your spirit to a better place in exchange for a shared secret, something meaningful.”

Reiyu was a strange woman in the village, everyone, no, every monkey here thought of her to be crazy or a witch. Only the desperate came to her in need of assistance. She would guide people in the right direction like his father used to say when she told him ‘Go to Kyoto, and you’ll find a love worth a thousand lifetimes’. And wouldn’t you know it, he met his mother Chihiro, a thousand kindness her name spelled. When his Cursed Technique manifested, she helped him in the early stages, offering explanations on curses, sorcerers, and legends. 

When the plate of dorayaki was cleared, Reiyu smiled as she asked, “Suguru, would you like some advice from your local crazy witch?”

“You’re not a witch, obaa-chan,” scolded Suguru, dusting off any crumbs off her futon. 

Reiyu giggled, ruffling his hair weakly. “Well, listen to some advice from your grandma okay?”

A young Suguru nodded, scooting closer to his grandmother.

“I know you may think of your technique as a curse, I think the same with mine too,” started Reiyu as she leaned back into her futon, her hand still in his hair. “But there’s meaning in everything. We were given these gifts to protect those who cannot. We are not monsters, we are teachers, we are guides, we are protectors . That is the true meaning of our existence. Help others to find that meaning in their life. If you do that… you’ll do great things Suguru.”

With a slow breath and closing her eyes, Reiyu dropped her hand from Suguru’s hair and onto her chest. A young Suguru stared at his grandmother in shock, before standing up. 

Suguru shadowed his former self in his home when he saw his parents talking in the kitchen. His younger self coughed to get their attention before announcing shakily, “Obaa-chan… obaa-chan passed away.”

Suguru turned away from the moment, as he knew his parents rushed over to offer hugs and reassurances. But Suguru, much like his young self now, refused to cry. Death was a part of life, and as long as that life was meaningful…how could he be sad about it?

Haibara watched in shock as he asked, “Shall we keep moving?”

Suguru looked at his… former family one last time before replying, “Let’s.”

Haibara led him out of his home, the reassurances of his… parents fading away. When Suguru opened the front door, he turned and whispered before a light overtook him, “I’ll be back soon.”

When the light faded, Suguru held back a gasp at the sight before him. Haibara skipped in front of him with a bright smile as he ascended the stairs. He teased, “My, doesn’t this place look familiar.”

It should be. It was Jujutsu Tech. 

Suguru looked around for clues for when this could be, but nothing stood out. A car pulled up to the school, and an older but still younger version of himself stepped out with Yaga following him. Oh, he remembered this day now. 

“You’re our second first-year Geto-kun, but please be… tolerant with your fellow first-year,” warned Yaga as they walked up the stairs. The young Suguru nodded as Yaga gave a small tour of the campus. It was a bit boring to watch this, as he knew this campus like the back of his hand.

When they entered the classroom, Suguru paused at the sight. Sitting beside a window, lounging in his chair with his feet up on a desk was none other than a young Gojo Satoru. Satoru, dare he even call this version of him that, sat up at their arrival as he tactlessly asked, “What’s with the Curse Boy?”

Suguru mirrored his younger self’s annoyance at the old nickname, with a slight twitch in his eyebrow. While he knew Satoru got better, his younger self did not. 

“What did you call me?” asked his younger self, as he knew he would.

“A Curse Boy, blegh, you reek with Curses. What’s up with that?” asked Satoru, fanning his face as he could blow away the residuals that lingered on him. 

His younger self stomped toward him, but Yaga held him back as he introduced, “Geto Suguru, meet your fellow classmate Gojo Satoru.”

Suguru, as he was now, knew the significance of the name ‘Gojo’, but back then…

“Is that supposed to mean something? All I see is an entitled prick,” commented a much more naive Suguru. 

Satoru shot up from his seat with a laugh. “Oh, man, where did you find this guy Yaga? The boonies? Who hasn’t heard of the Gojo Clan?”

“I’m from Hokkaido,” muttered his young self, with annoyance and secretly embarrassment. 

Before Satoru could comment, Yaga cut off saying, “I’ll be sending you on a mission as an assessment for Geto-kun’s Grade Level, so please Gojo-kun, try not to take over.”

“But it be so much faster,” groaned Satoru, slumping onto his desk.

“With that attitude, I highly doubt it,” commented his younger self, staring disdainfully at Satoru. 

“My, what an interesting first impression,” commented Haibara, sitting on one of the many empty desks. 

Suguru nodded as the debriefing Yaga started went deaf to his ears. Forcing his face not to smile seeing a version of Satoru, he commented, “Satoru was never great with first impressions.”

Haibara smirked as he asked, “Shall we fast forward a tiny bit? I am in a bit of a time crunch.”

Suguru stood straighter, staring at the Spirit. “Whatever do you mean?”

Before he could finish the question, the classroom was darkened, only lit by the sunset. Suguru turned to find a still young Satoru slumped against the desk, his eyes much dimmer behind his pitch-black glasses. Behind him, he heard himself and a young Shoko whisper about who should talk to him. Eventually, his younger self was pushed in with a wince — Shoko did have a mean arm to manhandle both him and Satoru. It really worked against him in their first-year when Shoko under the guise of not talking well and Suguru not wanting to deal with Satoru — oh, the days where it felt like their hatred was more joking than serious like now.

Haibara looked curiously at the scene before asking, “Do you remember what caused Gojo-senpai to be like this?”

Suguru remembered plenty of days when Satoru would hide in some secluded corner of the school. Usually, it was when the Six Eyes was giving too much and he was burdened with terrible migraines, when missions went bad and he took on the guilt, or when simply the world was too much. Of course, he didn’t know all these burdens until later; no he was much more distracted trying to prove himself equal to Satoru. But something about this day… it did feel eerily familiar.

“Hey, Gojo,” greeted his younger self. Only getting a tired hum in acknowledgment. “Ieiri and I were going to stop by the nearby conbini. Get some snacks, you want to join us?”

Ah, yes, the age-old temptation of sweets. That usually perked Satoru right up, but instead, this version shook his head and continued to look at the setting sun dejectedly. 

Oh… now he remembered this day.

“His… I guess the best word would be caretaker died. She wasn’t even that old, barely made it to her 40s. But…the Higher Ups…they executed her,” answered Suguru, ignoring the gasp from Haibara. “She… found something that could harm Satoru and tried to steal it and destroy it. Satoru took the mission to save her, if we could find the object and return it before sundown they wouldn’t kill her. He stayed up a whole week trying to find it, but nothing. This was the day she…” Died.

“What was the object?” asked Haibara, gently. 

“Satoru probably forgot, but I didn’t. It was called the Prison Realm,” answered Suguru, coldly. “It’s meant to have the ability to seal anything , even someone as powerful as Satoru.”

Haibara stared at him, almost staring through him, as he replied, “Sounds dangerous.”

Suguru hummed, turning back to the scene. His younger self moved a desk chair so he sat in front of Satoru. He knew what he was whispering to younger Satoru. Reassurances of “You did everything you could” and “I’m sure she’d be proud of you”. Empathetic words of “I’m sorry for your loss” and “I understand how you feel”. Along with apologies of “I wish I could've helped more” and “I’m sorry I can’t cheer you up more”. 

His younger self paused when he really took in Satoru’s face, blank. Even Suguru at his current age only saw that face once after this, and it was when Satoru carried Riko’s body and asked if he should’ve killed all those people.

“I’m not even sad,” muttered Satoru, his voice flat.

“Why aren’t you sad Gojo?” asked Suguru, genuinely. 

“... I think I forgot how to feel sad,” answered Satoru, moving his head to at least look at Suguru when he replied. “After all the shit I’ve been put through… I guess you just get used to it. Being a Sorcerer sucks , but it’s whatever.”

His younger self hummed in thought as he said, “You know, I bet your caretaker—”

“Kaname,” offered Satoru, tiredly.

Suguru nodded as he amended, “ Kaname , would be proud of the man you’ll become Gojo. I know it, do you want to know why I believe that?”

“Why?” replied Satoru, emotionlessly. 

“Because you brought meaning into her life,” answered Suguru, with a fond smile. “Many people don’t find meaning in their choices in life until it's too late. You brought her so much meaning into her life that she chose to risk everything to protect you. Isn’t that amazing?”

Satoru turned his head, making his chin rest on his arms. “I guess so. But… she had a future. She used to tell me how she wanted to reunite with her best friend. She can’t do that now.”

“Well, you know how you can honor her, Satoru ?” asked Suguru, making his companion sit up at his given name. “Complete her mission. Protect those you love, those who have a future ahead of them. Just like she did for you.”

Without a word, Satoru hugged his younger self as he whispered, “Thank you… Suguru .”

This was the first time he used Satoru’s given name… and vice versa.

Suguru turned away from the intimate moment as he begged, “Haibara, please no more. Just take me home. Unless this is some form of torture.”

“But… there’s one more I need to show you,” whispered Haibara, confused at the request.

“What else could you possibly show me?” demanded Suguru, as Haibara led him out the classroom door… and back into his childhood home.

What could he possibly be… 

Suguru spotted his parents on the porch of their backyard taking in nature their backs turned to him. Leaning against the wall, he muttered, “No. No, you don’t need to show me this! Haibara!”

But for once Haibara was nowhere around. 

The front door squeaked open as a despondent version of his voice from ten years ago whispered of his return. 

His mother turned to him in surprise as she greeted him, “Welcome back! Suguru, have you come home to vis—?”

Chihiro couldn’t finish as a curse he summoned killed her, and his father, right there. His younger self looked at the corpses with nothing in his eyes as the blood dripped quietly onto the grass and pooled at his feet. His younger self walked over the bodies, summoned a flying curse, and flew away without another word. 

Leaving him alone with the corpses. 

“Now what was the meaning of that ?” 

Suguru turned to see Haibara standing at the entrance, soot covering his burns. Growling at the apparition he said, “Shouldn’t you know? You took me here!”

“Because it held great significance to you,” answered Haibara with a shrug. “I don’t know the reasons behind it.”

“You… Curse! You know why you took me here! Stop lying!” yelled Suguru, as a chill went down his spine. The blood began to pool at his feet… and he could feel the warmth of it. Why can he feel it? Nothing else could touch him, so why could the blood of his— “Take me away from this!”

“Not until you tell me the meaning behind this Geto-senpai,” said Haibara, suddenly cold in his words. “They were your parents . They loved you. They accepted you. Why do this?”

Suguru answered, “Because they were monkeys ! They didn’t have Cursed Energy! Not like Obaa-chan and I! They would never understand the pain I felt!”

“But they tried to, didn’t they?” asked Haibara, tilting his head. His eyes spotted something on the kitchen counter. “Look, she still made them.”

Suguru turned in the direction Haibara faced, and froze.

There. On the kitchen counter, was a plate of untouched dorayaki. 

Suguru stormed to the plate, his feet squelching with the blood stuck to it, and tried to swipe at the plate; but of course, he couldn’t touch this . The blood stayed but not those damn treats. 

“Why did you do it, Geto-senpai?” asked Haibara, once more, with more warmth in his voice, but yet burned his soul just as much as the icy tone. “Why kill them?”

“Because if I didn’t I would be a hypocrite! If I killed all the non-sorcerers in that whole village without reason, there would be no meaning to that!” yelled Suguru, as something started choking him from the inside again. “I didn’t even save the children in that wretched village besides Nanako and Mimiko.”

“But you had meaning to kill the adults that did hurt them, it was to save your girls. They would’ve understood,” whispered Haibara, gently. “Your grandmother, your parents , Gojo-senpai , even me. Why kill them though? They wanted to help you.”

“Help me how ?!” screamed Suguru, pulling at his hair. Why couldn’t he breathe? It felt like he was choking on smoke. 

“... I don’t know,” admitted Haibara, sadly. The soot spirits on him slowly burned away. “I don’t know the reasons behind past actions, I only see what connects them. I cannot change the past, I can only reveal it to teach something.”

“Well, you’ve taught me nothing !” screamed Suguru, slamming his hand against the wall, rattling his old home. 

“Have I not?” asked Haibara, with a damn smirk. “I think I taught you plenty.”

Suguru, enraged, rushed to Haibara when the soot spirits started crawling over him. He tried to swipe at them, but with each swipe, they multiplied more. Their nonsense chattering slowly became clearer the more they grew. Soon enough all he could hear was ‘why’.

Why didn’t you cry when obaa-chan died?

Why did you become a Sorcerer?

Why did you pretend to hate Satoru then?

Why didn’t you save Amanai sooner?

Why weren’t you more honest with Satoru?

Why weren’t you faster to save Haibara?

Why did you kill all those children?

Why did you kill your parents ?

Why make their death so quick ?

Why leave Satoru ?

Why declare war on him ?

Why? Why? Why? Why?

With each ‘why’, more soot overcame him until he choked with only Haibara smiling at him as he said, “The past always comes back to haunt us, Geto Suguru. One way or another, it will.”

Suguru coughed as he sat up from his bed. He hacked, not unfamiliar with the taste of bile in his throat. He rubbed his throat and turned to his side to see his now undamaged clock but it read 01:40 AM. He wiped his face of sweat and laid back down. 

Was… was that all real?

No, it couldn’t be. But, as his eyes closed to sleep he thought back to the questions of the soot. 

Why didn’t you cry when obaa-chan died? He needed to be strong for his parents.

Why did you become a Sorcerer? To protect those weaker than him.

Why did you pretend to hate Satoru then? Because he was too afraid of what letting Satoru in could do to him.

Why didn’t you save Amanai sooner? He tried, so hard to do that.

Why weren’t you more honest with Satoru? He didn’t know where to start.

Why weren’t you faster to save Haibara? He thought he could trust him to make it out. 

Why did you kill all those children? Because if he killed the parents… he would leave hundreds of orphans. He thought he was being merciful.

Why did you kill your parents ? He didn’t want them to hate him when they heard what happened. He didn’t want to be seen as a hypocrite by others. 

Why make their death so quick ? He didn’t want to hear them in pain. 

Why leave Satoru ? Because he… he had to. 

Why declare war on him ? Because he had to.

All those decisions… they had meaning… surely they did. 

Suguru tried to get some sleep before his supposed next visitor, but nothing could calm his mind no matter how exhausted it was. When his alarm went off at exactly 02:00 AM, he looked around his room… and nothing. He slipped out of bed, walked to the window and opened it. The wind died down and it felt more like a gentle breeze. He closed it, turned around, and froze. 

Sitting at the edge of his bed was the very person he needed for his plan to succeed. He remembered that timid posture, dark circles under his dark blue eyes, and disheveled black hair. He held out his katana as it gleamed in the moonlight, as he fiddled with his loose white uniform jacket.

Okkotsu Yuuta.

“ You . You dare sneak into my home before the battle?” said Suguru, summoning a curse. But his curse cowered at the sight of the boy. 

“I don’t think there’s any need to attack me, Geto-san,” said Okkotsu. “I think you know what I truly am. For I am your vision of what the Cursed Spirit of the Present should look like.”

“Cursed Spirit of the Present ?” repeated Suguru with a scoff, returning his curse to his inventory. “I understand a curse being created by the manifestation of the past, but the present? How can that be?”

Okkotsu hummed, sheathing his sword into the air as it disappeared like it was never even there. “I’m the manifestation of current fears. Like when a woman worries about going home at night or when a child panics at breaking a rule the moment they break it. You would be surprised at how much fear can build in a person in a mere twenty-four hours.”

Suguru glanced at Okkotsu with disdain, remembering all too well his cowardly side. “Yes, you would know about that, wouldn’t you? So, Okkotsu , tell me, how will you show me my present? I lived it already and am currently living it now.”

Okkotsu smiled sheepishly. “That’s the thing. I’m not showing you your present. But others. I can show you anything that happened in the last twelve hours and twelve hours from now.”

“Seems… minimal compared to the prior Curse,” commented Suguru, tiredly. 

Okkotsu shrugged. “It’s interesting to see how much stays the same and changes in an instant. Have you ever noticed that?”

Suguru hummed. “Not really.”

Okkotsu laughed nervously, rubbing the nape of his neck. “I guess my job might go pretty quick then. But, I assure you Geto-san, you will learn. Now, please take my hand?”

Suguru touched palms with Okkotsu as he led him through the window. Similar to the past Curse, they walked in the air with Okkotsu nervously glancing at each house as Suguru watched the sky. The moon began to fall west , the sun began to peek out from the west side as well. Okkotsu laughed as they descended the sky into a small apartment hallway blocking the entrance to a kitchen. 

Suguru glanced around and noted it was a nice apartment. Decently sized, but he didn’t know anyone who lived in an apartment. Granted he didn’t care to know beside him and his girls. 

“Here we are. I figured you would want to check on him first,” commented Okkotsu, with a sheepish smile. 

Check on who first?

“I’m home!”

Suguru froze, turning to the door to see… “Satoru?”

Satoru had changed out of his uniform and the white wraps for his eyes into a nice jacket, jeans, and sunglasses. His hair brushed against the tips of his blacked-out glasses. He switched to house slippers when a young girl, around the same age as his girls, came out of a room and greeted him with a smile. 

“Welcome back Gojo-san!” greeted the girl, hugging him. She had brown eyes and brown hair in a ponytail with bangs that framed her face nicely. She looked… cozy in her knitted turtleneck, skirt, and house slippers. “Did your mission go well?”

Satoru laughed nervously as the girl pulled back. “As well as any mission, Tsumiki. Now, where’s my dear Megumi-chan!”

Megumi- chan ? Who in the hell was this Megumi person?

“Ugh, must you be so loud when you come to visit?” 

Suguru turned to the voice, and a chill went down his spine. No… no… he couldn’t be here. He was dead. He had seen his Spirit earlier this night, he couldn’t be alive. But there was no mistaking that face and those damn eyes. 

Somehow standing before was Fushiguro—

“Megumi!” cut off Satoru, holding his chest as if he got frightened. “What did I say about not drying your hair when you finish showering? Go dry it now!”

This was Megumi? But why—

“Why does he look like Fushiguro Toji?” demanded Suguru, ignoring the argument between Satoru and Megumi. 

“Oh, that’s Fushiguro Megumi… his son,” answered Okkotsu tiredly. 

“His son?! ” repeated Suguru, walking up to Satoru, in between him and this Fushiguro spawn. “Satoru, why are you in the home of the son of the man who nearly killed you?!”

But of course…

“The last Spirit mentioned they can’t hear you…right?” asked Okkotsu, nervously. He muttered about if he needed to go over the rules, but shrugged. “Look, this is in the past either way he can’t—”

“I know he can’t!” screamed Suguru, frustrated. “I’m trying to figure out why Satoru is close with that killer’s son.”

“And step-daughter,” added Okkotsu, pointing to the girl who rolled her eyes at the two bickering men. 

“His what ?” asked Suguru, turning to the girl. “That… monkey married?”

“I wish you didn’t use that,” muttered Okkotsu, before speaking louder. “Twice, actually. Who you’re looking at is Fushiguro Megumi, the blood son of Fushiguro Toji and the Inheritor of the Ten Shadows Technique. And Fushiguro Tsumiki, his stepdaughter. He hated the Zenin name, so he took his wife’s name.”

“And where is this supposed wife?” asked Suguru, sparing another glance at this makeshift household. 

Okkotsu shrugged. “Who knows? According to Gojo-sensei and Fushiguro-kun, she left with Toji. Now please watch them.”

Suguru huffed, turning back to Satoru and… Fushiguro (he refused to call him by his given name). Satoru, at some point, used the towel around the teen’s neck to dry his hair making his hair pop into spikes - it kinda reminded him of sea urchins. With a cackle at his successful attempt, Satoru lounged on a sofa when he said, “Tsumiki-chan, could you be a sweetheart and make me some hot chocolate, it’s freezing out there?”

Tsumiki giggled. “With extra marshmallows?”

Satoru clutched his heart, with a dramatic flourish. “Oh, you love me so, Tsumiki-chan! You’re an angel!”

Once Tsumiki stepped out of the room, Satoru turned to Fushiguro much more seriously. He leaned in close as he demanded, “I need you and Tsumiki to stay in the apartment all day tomorrow.”

“What why?” asked Fushiguro, his attitude going from annoyed to concerned in a flash. 

“Let’s just say… an old friend came to visit the school today and sorta declared war on me, and I can’t let him hurt Tsumiki,” confessed Satoru. 

Old friend? Him? But why would he hurt Tsumiki, it’s not like she’s—

“She isn’t a Sorcerer like you and I. And this… friend doesn’t really like non-sorcerers,” added Satoru, gravely. Fushiguro’s eyes widened in shock, a brief flash of anger in them. “So, please, cut school, use my card for delivery, whatever you need to. Just. Stay. Here.”

“Let me join this fight!” said Fushiguro, clapping his hand, ready to summon his shikigami.

Satoru grabbed his hands and pushed them down. “I know you want to. But I need you here, okay? I’m already trying to protect my current students. I can’t let him and his… organization, find out about you two, and hurt you or Tsumiki. Do you understand me, Megumi? I don’t ask much from you, especially this seriously, but please stay here. Protect your sister, okay?”

Fushiguro forced his hands into his pockets as he muttered, “Fine. Only because I need to protect Tsumiki.”

Satoru smiles brightly, ruffling the boy’s hair in a mess. “That’s my boy!”

Megumi tried to wack Satoru’s hand away, but Satoru was determined to keep messing with his hair. 

That choking sensation returned watching the two. He walked out of the apartment, not sparing a glance at the mon— Tsumiki . Clutching the railing of the apartment, he leaned against it placing his head on the cold metal. Hearing footsteps, he peeked to see it was, indeed, Okkotsu. 

“Does… does Satoru genuinely believe I’d hurt someone so close to him?” asked Suguru, wishing he could summon a cigarette to smoke — where’s Shoko when you needed her?

Okkotsu shrugged. “You did kill your parents. What’s the difference between them and Tsumiki?”

Plenty of things. 

Tsumiki was a child, who barely lived her life. His parents were well into their adult years, they lived their life. Tsumiki seems so… sweet compared to the spawn of Toji; but so were his parents - they were one of the kindest people in his village. Tsumiki brought a genuine smile to Satoru’s face, but he would be lying if he said his parents didn’t do the same. When he introduced them for one Christmas, Satoru was so nervous, but his mother welcomed him and bribed him with sweets, while his father listened carefully and laughed at his carefree attitude — joking about how Suguru could learn a thing or two from him to relax. 

“Okkotsu, I know you only show the present. But do you know what becomes of Tsumiki?” asked Suguru, genuinely. 

Okkotsu leaned, his body swaying to the wind. “Someone… someone does plan to hurt her.”

What.

“What?” asked Suguru, in shock. He peeked into the window of the hole, seeing Satoru tickling Tsumiki as thanks for his drink. “Who?”

Okkotsu nervously picked at his shirt as he answered, “I do not know. I only can sense the intention, but not by who.”

Suguru leaned against the wall, the bile sensation returning to his throat. He… he couldn’t be the one to hurt her… would he? But what if it was? What if he sent an attack to kill non-sorcerers and she was stuck in the crossfire? No, he couldn’t, that would be like someone going after his girls. He couldn’t hurt Satoru like that. 

Satoru would hate him if he did… but what else was new? He already did, didn’t he? What if at that moment he declared to kill all non-sorcerers, and any  — if there was any left - affection or fondness for Suguru left Satoru? All he could think was… 

What if he killed Tsumiki?

What if he does kill Tsumiki?

“Wow, are you that worried about Tsumiki-san?” asked Okkotsu, surprised. “You didn’t show this much worry over Maki-san.”

Suguru held back a growl at the child. He turned to glare at him, “That monkey girl is exactly like her predecessor Toji. No Cursed Technique as far as I can sense, still cursed with Heavenly Restriction, but worse . She can’t even see curses.”

“So what of Fushiguro Megumi? He’s the blood son of Fushiguro Toji, but potentially one of the only sorcerers in the future that could defeat Gojo-sensei. Where does he stand on your premise to live or die?” asked Okkotsu, his eyebags growing darker and his bangs growing longer. “Does he live because he’s a sorcerer, or die because he’s the son of a so-called monkey .”

Suguru angrily turns to face Okkotsu, but the fight leaves him when he hears Satoru call for Megumi, just as he does when he wants either of his girls. He muttered, “Take me someplace else.”

Okkotsu sighed at the request but nodded nonetheless. 

The Curse led Suguru to various times in his short time, of how others are faring. But all were…disheartening. Shoko looked ten times more tired than in their teen years as she worked in the morgue. Nanami looked exhausted in his apartment, placing a wet rag over his face and muttering about Haibara. Yaga-sensei spoke to his panda creation about the ‘what ifs’ of the aftermath of tomorrow’s battle. Utahime debriefed her students about the battle, reassuring them to do their best. 

How…how was it possible? 

How had nothing changed in the past decade?

Shoko was still overworked. Nanami still looked like he rather be doing anything else than fight another Curse. Yaga still tried to keep his children calm despite the looming death of battle. Utahime still worked hard to make up for any slack that the rest of the school didn’t. 

As they walked out of the sister school, Suguru asked, “You said you could take me to see the small future correct? Just twelve hours, right?”

Okkotsu nodded. “I can, but I can assure you. Even if you know the outcome of this war, it might not change anything. It might end being—”

“Meaningless,” muttered Suguru. “I know, but I wish to see Satoru after this battle.”

Okkotsu stared at him in shock, before sighing. “Of course.”

Okkotsu offered a hand as they walked. The passage of time speeds up with the sun then the moon rising then setting. Suguru watched as Okkotsu himself grew older, his hair grew longer and more relaxed. His bangs now swept to the side of his face. He grew taller, perhaps a centimeter or two. The bags under his eyes, diminished but not quite gone. 

The sky turned pink and purple on their arrival as they returned to Jujutsu Tech. Suguru hummed curiously, he asked, “I thought I would be shown Satoru with his… family . Why here?”

“This is as far as I can go,” muttered Okkotsu, leaning against a tree exhausted. “But please, enjoy the scene.”

Suguru opened his mouth to ask when he heard panting and the dripping of blood. Worried that somehow it was Satoru, he turned quickly only to be met with… himself. 

A very injured version of himself. His hair was completely down, his bangs obscuring half of his face, and his left arm holding what was left of his right arm, which was practically nothing as it was gone to the point of the shoulder. It bled profusely, dripping to the ground as he muttered about failing to absorb Rika.

Great, now he knew that his plan would fail and he lost an arm. What’s next?

His mirror self slid against the wall to help him sit, before chuckling. “You’re late… Satoru.” 

Suguru turned behind him, something crawling up to his throat. Satoru… looked perfectly fine. He didn’t wear anything to cover his eyes, so his bangs were in full force brushing against the striking blue hues of them. Suguru opened his mouth to greet him but closed it. 

No… it was meaningless to do so. 

“To think you’d be the one here at my end,” commented his other self. “How’s my family?”

“Every last one of them managed to escape,” answered Satoru, exhaustion in his voice. “The ones in Kyoto were under your orders, too, right?”

His other self chuckled. “Yeah, unlike you, I’m a kind person.”

Suguru clenched his fist tightly… he knew he was lying. Not even on his potential deathbed, does he stop lying to Satoru. Satoru was kind… far too kind for this world.

“You sent those two here knowing I’d defeat them,” added his other self. “To set Okkotsu off.”

“I trust you,” admitted Satoru, his voice steady. “Trusted that a man as principled as you wouldn’t kill off young sorcerers without a reason.”

Suguru scoffed in unison with his other self. His other self added, “Trust, huh?”

“I didn’t think I still had any of that left,” finished both him and his other self. Suguru paused at the brief unity he and the future self had when his other self tossed an ID to Satoru with the request that he return it.

“Was the elementary your doing, too?” asked Satoru, tired disbelief in his voice, which earned a quiet confirmation. “Unbelievable.”

Suguru watched the two, something constricting his throat at what he was about to see. Satoru then asked, “Any last words?”

Suguru took back at the finality of his voice. 

While he didn’t believe in Toji’s words at first, he said three Curses were to visit him. Okkotsu only made two, but if this was his death… what was left for him to see? Just pain and torture about what he’ll miss? 

Maybe that’s what he deserved.

Suguru didn’t listen to his supposed last words, he knew what they would be. His hatred for mon… non-sorcerers , how he didn’t hate anyone at Jujutsu Tech, how he couldn’t smile anymore with the world they were in. He thought those words over and over again. It wouldn’t change in a single day. 

“Suguru.”

He looked to Satoru, instinctively at the call of his name. He watched Satoru get closer to his dying counterpart with steadfast, but gentle steps. He kneeled and—

“I love you.”

Suguru stepped back in shock, as his other matched his surprise. Before replying with a pained chuckle, “At least hit me with some curses at my end.”

Suguru turned away from the final blow, he couldn’t stand to see Satoru’s face after that confession. A confession… a confession he wasn’t even sure he deserved. He walked away from the scene before he found himself back in his own room.

Staring at the walls, he turned to the clock that read 02:40 AM. Somehow… it felt longer. He didn’t say goodbye to other Curses or have any grand departure. One moment he was there, and the next… gone.

“It’s interesting to see how much stays the same and changes in an instant. Have you ever noticed that?”

“I guess… I do now,” whispered Suguru, to the ceiling.

It felt like an instant, one moment he hated Satoru for taking in the son of Toji like he was his own, but the next moment he was filled with so much overwhelming… love that he refused to curse him in the end. 

Ten years of planning and strategizing only for him to die . 

Ten years of thinking the world of jujutsu changed, but it stayed the same.

Ten years of hatred for non-sorcerers was still there, but not as strongly as before.

Ten years of thinking Satoru hated him, but turns out he loves him. 

“I love you too, Satoru,” confessed Suguru, turning to his bed. 

Maybe Toji was wrong… maybe he only needed to see two Curses tonight.

Suguru shivered, in his blankets when his alarm went off, hopefully, for one last time tonight. He sat up groggily, pushing his bangs up noting that despite the cold he was sweating quite a bit. He ignored the alarm as the clock blinked the time of 03:00 AM. He looked around the room, before storming to his window and swinging it open. 

“If you’re coming to teach me something now would be the time!” yelled Suguru, into the dead wind. “What else could you possibly show me?! I die today! What else could be in my future!?!”

“Glad you asked!”

Suguru turned to see a young teen boy leaning against the wall by the clock, before shutting off the alarm. Taken aback he stepped away from the window as he took in the teenager. He was practically average compared to most sorcerers - save for the pink hair in an undercut and the scars under his light brown eyes. He looked built but in the sense of the average athlete, but it was hidden underneath the run-of-the-mill sorcerer uniform, the only change was the red hoodie. 

“Who are you?” asked Suguru, genuinely. All the other Curses looked like people he knew, but this person… this child . He’s never seen him before. 

“I am the Cursed Spirit of the Future,” introduced the Curse, with a dramatic bow. “I took the form of someone that… well, that we believe you would’ve gotten close to if given the chance. The name is Itadori Yuuji.”

Suguru observed the boy curiously. How could he get along with this boy? 

“And you are the manifestation of fear of the future, correct?” asked Suguru, earning an enthusiastic nod. “Compared to the other two… I can believe that would create a Curse Spirit such as yourself. But, what are you going to show me Itadori? We already found out I will die before the day ends.”

“That’s the thing about the future, it can change,” explained Itadori, sitting on the bed with a bounce. “One little change of a decision can be the matter of life or death. It’s like that metaphor with the butterfly wings.”

“You mean the butterfly effect?” asked Suguru, amused, earning another excited nod. This Itadori child certainly was more… cheerful than the other two. “Alright, Itadori, better do it now while I still have the nerve. Show me this future that I’m not a part of.”

Suguru offered his hand, and Itadori took it with a smile and asked, “Are you sure you’re not part of it? Let’s test your theory.”

Itadori dragged him to the window as they ran, well more like Itadori ran and Suguru tried to keep pace. The sun rose and set rapidly, and Suguru couldn’t even begin to count how far into the future they had gone. Before he knew it, they stood before… a flower shop?

Two men in well-tailored suits walked out of said shop. One laughed as he carried a bouquet of sunflowers and the other reprimanded him to save their talk for later, fondness still in his voice. It made him envious that he would never experience such closeness with Satoru. 

Itadori peeked inside the shop and pointed, tapping at the window excitedly. Suguru followed his vision and took in a sharp breath. 

It was Satoru. 

In his hand was a bouquet of periwinkles.

“Come on, let’s go check it out,” insisted Itadori, stepping inside. 

Suguru followed suit walking through the wall; he took in all the smells when he entered. He missed taking care of a garden, his mother tended to one when he was a child and he remembered at some point in his high school career Yaga started a garden for fallen Sorcerers. 

The woman behind the counter admired Satoru’s bouquet. An orange cat jumped on the counter, displeased with his owner not giving him attention. She commented while ringing him up, “A Valentine’s Day gift for someone?”

“Somewhat,” admitted Satoru, offering his card to the brunette. 

Oh… Valentine’s Day? 

Suguru never enjoyed the holiday. It was another meaningless holiday, purely taken from the West for romantic ideals. He never understood why Japan had such a soft spot for romantic holidays like Valentine’s Day, White Day, and… Christmas Eve. 

Damn, did he really die on Christmas Eve? And Satoru confessed to him? He knew he was a secret romantic. But, who were the flowers for?

Itadori spotted Satoru leaving and began to push Suguru toward him - why was this child in a rush? The scenery blurred around them, but Satoru was the only clear and steady thing in his vision. When the scenery returned to normal, he gasped at the location.

They were at the Gojo Estate. 

Satoru hated the Gojo Estate. 

“Satoru, what are you doing here?” asked Suguru, even if it was the equivalent of talking to air. He supposed he should get used to it if he dies soon. Maybe he’ll be like Toji, never thought he would be envious of him , and be a ghost so he could watch over Satoru and his girls. Satoru, of course, didn’t reply, as he kneeled in front of a grave. He dusted it off with his own hands and Suguru froze at the name. 

Geto Suguru. Feb 3, 1990 - Dec 24, 2017.

Oh.

It was one thing to see you slowly die, it was another thing to see your grave. 

“I… I don’t know why I’m surprised,” whispered Suguru, his throat closing up on him. “I knew I was going to die, but… Satoru, you really buried me here ? This is your family estate.”

“Maybe he saw you as future family at some point,” commented Itadori, who sat cross-legged against a neighboring grave. 

Suguru sniffed, damn this dust and moss. “Perhaps, but please, Itadori, move away from that grave. Have you no respect for… for the deceased?”

Itadori muttered an apology, standing away as his fingers brushed against it to reveal the family name of his neighboring grave. He expected it to be another Gojo, but instead, it read ‘Kaname’. 

Oh, his dear and sentimental fool that he loved. Why was Satoru like this? Giving him the honor of lying beside the closest thing that Satoru saw as family. He would curse Satoru for soft-heartedness if he weren’t so… flattered. 

“Hey, Suguru.”

Like before, Suguru turned when Satoru called for him. It was honestly pathetic. He knew he wasn’t calling for him, but maybe he longed for Satoru to call for him. 

“Uh, Happy Valentine’s Day,” continued Satoru, nervously taking off his sunglasses, showing off his beautiful but cursed eyes. “Sorry, no chocolates, but let’s be real. I would eat them on the way here. But, I got you some flowers. I hope you like them. Um, no real updates since your birthday, which uh again, yay, happy… would-be 28th birthday again. I’m still looking for your girls, but I think I’m the last person those two want to see. But I won’t stop, I figured taking in them and protecting them from those damn Higher-Ups would be the least I could do since I was the one… you know.”

Suguru covered his mouth, holding back some bile fighting his way up, as he whispered, “You’re looking for my girls?”

Satoru sighed, glancing at the neighboring grave. “Hey, do you mind if I take two flowers from your bouquet? I would go back and buy more, but… I’m not feeling all that energetic today.”

Suguru knew Satoru couldn’t see him, but he gestured for him to take from the bouquet. Even though he knew Satoru took them without verbal permission, he instead saw that for once he listened to Suguru, as he gently plucked two periwinkles from the bouquet. He laid one down on Kaname’s grave with a whisper he would talk to her soon, but he held onto the other one.

He watched him leave the estate in a teleport as he asked, “Where’s he taking the other one to?”

“Want to find out?” asked Itadori, holding his hand out. Suguru nodded and took the hand as the scenery changed in the blink of an eye - similar to Satoru's teleportation skills. 

Suguru observed the room and his breathing stuttered. He was in a hospital… a Jujutsu Sorcerer hospital. 

Oh no.

With Itadori close behind him, Suguru ran checking each room until he froze at the door, seeing Satoru and… Megumi —he would at least give him the respect for bringing joy to Satoru’s life— standing over a patient bed. Itadori shuffled by them without a second thought, whistling in shock. “That’s a pretty bad curse.”

Suguru walked around Satoru and froze. In the bed, surrounded by wilting flowers - except for a single fresh periwinkle, with a red curse mark branded on her forehead was…

“Tsumiki?” whispered Suguru, in shock. He turned to Itadori, who spent an awful long time staring at Megumi. “Why? Who? When? How was Tsumiki cursed?”

Itadori hummed, leaning against the wall. “Isn’t that the million-dollar question?”

“You are the manifestation of the future , you out of everyone in this room should know what happens to her,” pointed out Suguru, constantly sparing a glance at the mark. “So, tell me who curses her?”

Itadori, shoving his hands in his pocket, walked around the room. “ I wouldn’t classify it as a who but more a what that cursed Tsumiki-san. I can tell you everything else if it eases your mind. Why? Because they wanted to add another player to their game. When? Well, officially she’s been marked back in say… April of 2017, but the coma came later. Maybe after you die, it's hard to say.”

Before he died? So… was her state because of hi—

“It wasn’t you,” cut Itadori, sharply. “She was marked long before you declared war. There are other times, in different circumstances, where she immediately fell into a coma after being marked. But, the thing behind this, I have no idea if they wanted her specifically or if it was a bad turn of fate.”

Suguru frowned at the sight of her. She was so lively when he first saw her with Satoru. Hugging him, greeting him, making him smile . In this state, she seemed asleep to the world; he refused to think she was doing anything but sleeping. 

Itadori sighed. “Man, you Sorcerers sure enjoy taking the blame for things that were out of your control.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow at him. While he knew Itadori or this illusion of him, was a Curse. None of the other Cursed Spirits acknowledged that they weren’t Sorcerers if their visage was one. 

Itadori walked in between Satoru and Megumi, both silent in their visit to the non-sorcerer. “Gojo-sensei here blames himself for not being stronger and not stopping it, while Fushiguro here blames that he wasn’t kind enough to his sister before this happened. They both want to save her and that is one of their strongest convictions, but yet the switch between hope and despair can be compared to a flip of a coin.”

Suguru’s body flipped on itself as the room rotated on him. He closed his eyes as the vision of Satoru and Megumi disappeared from him. He rubbed his head, momentarily surprised by the pain of waking up in a… kitchen? He sat up, finding himself at a table. Opposite of him was Itadori, drumming his fingers against the table, to his side was Satoru enjoying a meal, and the opposite of Satoru was… Itadori?

Suguru glanced between the two versions of Itadori, unsure who his guide was. The Itadori said, “I thought you should meet a version of me at least once.”

The way he said that, made confusion and sadness churn in his chest, tightening it. He was curious why Itadori was his guide, never meeting him before obviously, but worried seeing what he might miss.

Yuuji, the real Itadori Yuuji, thanked Satoru for the meal, wolfing down his food, zaru soba. In between bites, he asked, “Why soba, Gojo-sensei?”

Satoru, taken aback by the question, answered, “Well, it's summer, my dear Yuuji-kun! This is a traditional meal for the summer, plus… I knew someone who loved this dish. It must be the best food after eating curses.”

Yuuji choked on some noodles before demanding, “You know someone who eats curses?! Oh, my god, do they agree that it tastes like a moldy piece of soap that it’s almost a little bit acidic?”

Suguru, sat up, asking, “Do… you eat curses, Yuuji-san?”

“Cursed objects probably taste a bit different than curses, Yuuji-kun,” teased Satoru, slurping some noodles. “But, maybe they did.”

“In my opinion, they’re more akin to a rag used to wipe up vomit,” commented Suguru. “But, I understand your pain, Yuuji-kun.” 

“You and he would’ve gotten along great, he also came from a non-sorcerer family. But he was the strongest here, we were the Strongest together ,” added Satoru, the inkling of a smile fighting on his face. 

“No way! Someone as strong as you ?!” cried Yuuji, in shock, his palms slapping against the table in awe. It matched the sparkle of life in his eyes.

“Well, I wouldn’t say as strong as Satoru,” commented Suguru, amusement filling his chest. “I sorta just matched him. He was the one that coined the term of being the Strongest…together.”

Yuuji slurped some noodles before asking, “Will I ever meet this person?”

Satoru and Suguru froze.

Right… he nearly forgot. He wasn’t here. He would never be here. 

Satoru picked at his noodles as he said, “He died…not that long ago actually.”

Yuuji’s eyes widened, his mouth forming a sad ‘oh’, staring at his empty plate. “I’m sorry Gojo-sensei.”

Before Satoru could reply, Megumi walked up and glared at the duo - he looked too much like Toji with that look. But softened when he saw Yuuji. He said, “Are you ready to meet our other first year?”

Yuuji jumped from his seat in excitement. “You bet Fushiguro! You can show me all the good places to get souvenirs. I’ve never been to Tokyo, you know.”

Their conversation faded in the background, Suguru watched them when Satoru's sighing caught his attention. He cleaned up the plates, wrapping his unfinished soba to put in the fridge. Leaning against the open fridge, he whispered, “The universe sure is funny Suguru, I hope you’re laughing wherever you are.”

He wasn’t.

Why would he find this funny?

“Tale as old as time,” started Itadori — Suguru jumped, forgetting his guide’s existence for a moment. “A sorcerer from one of the three clans with one of the most sought-after techniques meets a boy who eats curses from a non-sorcerer family. History truly repeats itself.”

Suguru looked at Itadori curiously before commenting, “You’re different from the other Cursed Spirits.”

Itadori tilted his head, an illusion of innocence, “What do you mean by that?”

“You keep…,” started Suguru, thinking how Itadori started like Yuuji, but then went quiet, almost calculated - inhuman even, to being serious and calm like a veteran sorcerer. “...changing.”

Itadori laughed. “Changing? Interesting word choice. I guess that’s the thing about the future. It keeps changing—”

The scenery changed to Satoru holding a crying Megumi and a girl with short red-dyed hair. 

“And changing.”

Satoru fighting a volcano-looking Cursed Spirit with a Domain Expansion.

“But staying the same.”

Satoru releasing a Hollow Purple, taking out most of the forest of Jujutsu Tech.

The flash of purple blinded him, making him jump when Itadori appeared before him in a flash of black. 

“Shall we see just how much your death does to Gojo-sensei?” asked Itadori, with a stiff smile as his face cracked down the middle of his eyes across his nose and one smaller scar on the left side of his labial, fire seeping out like blood. 

The guide bursts into flames, blinding Suguru as he steps back. When the light faded he found himself in a crowd in a train station. Why would the Curse take him here? All of the passengers looked dazed, noting some were in costumes. Suguru walked forward, hoping to find a clearing in this crowd, when he heard the thump of something close ahead of him. Peeking through some of the dazed bodies - how was he going through them like before — he froze. In front of him was Satoru, breathing heavily with exhaustion — no blindfold in sight — and blood on his face, was a wrapped-up cube-shaped object.

No… it couldn’t be.

Not that. 

A quiet echo in the station, but a command in his head reverberated, as a voice commanded, “ Prison Realm, open .”

Suguru pushed forward when the Prison Realm opened into a mass of flesh grotesquely stretched out to four corners with pieces of the cube at its edges. At the center was a giant bleeding eye with stitches forcing it to stare down Satoru. 

He knew; he knew he was a ghost, but he had to try. He had to try to get Satoru out of the way . The Prison Realm could only capture someone if they were in a four-meter radius and stayed there for one minute; if he pushed him out of that radius before the minute was up—

“Hey—”

Suguru watched, finally parting through the crowd, Satoru turned in shock, but probably trying to run at first. He followed his line of sight and froze in time.

“—Satoru,” finished… him . Satoru gasped in shock, freezing on the spot, as he waved at him with a grin. “Long time no see.”

How could that… wait—

“ Satoru! Get out of the way!” screamed Suguru, but it was too late. 

The cube latched onto Satoru in his shock forcing him down to take a knee. 

Suguru rushed forward, kneeling next to Satoru, trying to think of ways to change this. How…how could he do this? He would never—

“You shouldn’t lose yourself in thought in the midst of battle, Satoru ,” teased this horrible version of himself. Suguru stood up opening his mouth to scream because how dare he —

“So, who the hell are you?”

Suguru’s words choke back in his throat at Satoru’s question. Could…could Satoru see something he couldn’t?

“I’m Geto Suguru. Don’t you remember me?” asked this… imposter (please be an imposter), “How sad.”

“Your body, your Cursed Energy. All the information provided by my Six Eyes is telling me you’re Geto Suguru,” informed Satoru, coldly. He couldn’t muster a glare in his exhaustion from whatever fight led to this. 

Wait… even the Six Eyes told him this was him?

So… that’s that, huh. Somehow he got revived and the first thing he did to Satoru was betray him. No apology. No reply to his confession. Nothing , but betray—

“But my heart and soul know otherwise! Now, answer me already! Who the hell are you?!” screamed Satoru, forcing his body to move forward. 

A tightness formed in Suguru’s chest at his words. Oh, his poor sentimental fool that was his Satoru. He was flattered that Satoru believed in so much, but if his Six Eyes said that in front of him was him then that was—

“Creepy.”

Suguru turned his head so fast, that any quicker it would fall off. He stared in horror at this… being held up a thin piece of suture with his fingers and pulled it with a snap . It grabbed the top of his head revealing with a squelch of flesh a pale brain with teeth. The fluid from his head dripped down his face, as the imposter stretched out an unnatural smile. “How could you tell?”

Suguru stared in shock at the imposter explaining their technique - it was using his corpse! They wanted his technique! But how? How was this possible? How did he get his corpse?! Rule Number One of dealing with dead sorcerers was to—

“You didn’t have Ieiri Shoko handle the disposal of Geto Suguru’s body that day, did you?” stated the imposter, placing his head back on, and slowly stitching it back into place. 

Suguru turned to Satoru in confusion. No… Satoru knew better than that. 

“Satoru, tell me you didn’t,” whispered Suguru, knowing his voice went on deaf ears. But one look on his face confessed everything. 

The imposter chuckled, oblivious to the glare Suguru gave him that grew hotter with anger with each word he spoke. “That was an odd time for you to show consideration. But thanks to that, I was able to obtain this body with ease . You needn’t worry. I’ll release your seal eventually. A hundred… no, maybe a thousand years from now? You’re just too strong. And you’re in the way of my plans.”

Satoru laughed, he always did that in the face of him being in danger. “Have you forgotten? Who was it that beat the crap out of that body before I killed him?”

“Okkotsu Yuuta, huh?” answered the imposter with a scoff. “I just don’t see as much appeal in that boy as you do.”

Suguru scoffed at the imposter as he went on about why he didn’t like Okkotsu. He didn’t agree with anything they said besides how Okkotsu could never replace Satoru - that was true. At the end of their speech, both he and Satoru had matching glares toward the imposter. 

“Goodnight, Gojo Satoru,” finished the imposter, with a mock bow. “We’ll meet again in the new world.”

Suguru closed his eyes, embracing the little moment he had with Satoru before he was sealed. He could feel something welling up in his eyes, something forcing its way up his throat, something gripping his heart trying to crush it from the inside.

“Maybe for me. But it's time for you to wake up already.”

Looking back to Satoru, who held a fond smile on his face - why did he have that expression? Did… did he think—

“How long will you keep letting it have its way with you, Suguru ?” 

In a flash, Suguru wrapped a hand around the imposter’s throat, choking it. He gasped quietly when he realized he was choking him. Like he was really choking him! He looked to see a mirror image of his own body in this vision fighting back and trying to protect Satoru. 

He should’ve known better.

Even in death, his body knew he always had to protect Satoru. 

But the imposter laughed at him, more amused by the fact it happened than fear it could happen. They forced the hand away from his throat, talking about some meaningless philosophy about the body and soul; and how techniques have their own rules. 

In a terrifying moment, the imposter touched him by the hand, holding him down until he fell into a kneel. This vision outside of time certainly was different from the other two. The illusions here could touch him. It wasn’t like he was a ghost, but simply an invisible bystander. 

Satoru called attention to the imposter to hurry up, joking about a bad view. The imposter complied with a simple command of ‘Gate Close’. Suguru forced his head to turn toward Satoru if he were to be sealed, for who knew how long he wanted to see him one last time. 

As the Prison Realm closed around Satoru, a part of Suguru’s heart shattered. While he stared at Satoru, longingly, hopefully conveying all the things he wanted to say. 

I’ll save you… I promise.

Thank you for believing in me.

My heart and soul know you better than my own. 

I love you too, Satoru.

Satoru was only looking at the smug grin of the imposter as the Prison Realm sealed around him. The cube landed in the imposter’s hand turning from the flesh-red color to a pale grey color as the eyes closed, before blinking open to reveal blue eyes. The cube then dropped to the ground like it weighed a ton, cracking the floor with an impact. The eyes on the cube darted around as if it was in pain, tearing up. 

“Good job, Satoru. Make it harder for them,” praised Suguru. He held his wrist trying to soothe the pain of the grip the imposter had on it. Some other Cursed Spirit spoke around, but he was looking for his Cursed Guide. Usually, the scene would change by now unless—

“Give him back.”

No. No, no, no, no . How could the future be worse ? His Satoru was sealed, probably for a thousand years if this imposter had any say. But peeking through the crowd he spotted the owner of the voice, a voice he knew all too well. Especially when it was used when she wanted something badly. In the crowd were… his girls.

Nanako and Mimiko. 

“We cooperated with you and kept dropping monkeys for you,” said Mimiko.

“Now give us back Geto-sama’s body like you promised,” demanded Nanako.

“Don’t toy with Geto-sama any further,” said the two in unison with equal anger. 

The imposter mocked their love for him, even threatening them. 

And that was the last straw.

Suguru stood up glaring at it . He yelled watching the imposter sit in front of the Prison Realm, “You can desecrate my corpse, I know I deserve that, and more. You can seal Satoru, I know he’ll get out because he’s the Strongest and people out there love him. But you do not mock my girls with my face!”

Suguru lunged at him when he found himself in a darker part of the station with the only lighting being the emergency lights. Punching the floor, he demanded, “Where are you Curse? What more could you possibly show me?! I get it! My death hurts Satoru and my girls. Now take me home! I can change—”

“Can you?”

Suguru turned to see Itadori’s figure by the stairs. His face was obscured by the shadows. The red emergency lights flashed on and off as Itadori stepped closer to him. 

“Change what Geto Suguru?” asked…

“Itadori?” asked Suguru fearfully. 

It couldn’t be… on his face were these black tattoos and under his red eyes… were a second pair of red eyes.

The man before him chuckled. “Not quite. Remember when I said the future can change by a little thing like a flap of a butterfly's wings? Well, some things are destined to be. Like Itadori Yuuji’s fate. You never did ask what kind of cursed objects he ate. Wanna find out?”

Itadori, can he call him that, grabbed his head and forced him to watch a new scene. By a restroom, an unconscious Yuuji with Nanako kneeling beside him with Mimiko standing close behind her. In Nanako’s hand was… a finger.

“No,” breathed Suguru, in fear before trying to force himself out of Itadori’s grip. That couldn’t be what he thought that was. It couldn’t be— “Sukuna’s finger?! Girls stay away from him!”

“Aww, worried about them?” taunted Itadori, no Sukuna , watching as Nanako forced a finger down Yuuji’s throat, making a mirror image with the markings manifesting on his face. “Yeah, the brat eventually eats one of my fingers to save Megumi, and so I have my new Vessel in this modern day. Your precious, Sa-to-ru just couldn’t stand the idea of executing him… wonder why.”

Suguru fought against the grip before Sukuna forced him down to lay on his chest. He pinned him to the floor while the volcano Cursed Spirit tried to attack his girls before feeding Yuuji ten fingers. That damn idiot! No matter how strong Yuuji could hold back Sukuna, ten was too much of Sukuna’s power for anyone . He could hear his girls panting from nearly dodging the Curse’s fire attack when he raised his hand to attack them again… it was cleaved off.

“I’ll give you one second. Move .”

Suguru shuddered against the floor, even if it was a vision he could still feel the power of Sukuna. He tried to force his Guide off, but with the matching strength of Sukuna; it was futile. Sukuna, his Guide visage of him anyway, jerked his head to face his girls and the Curse. 

“Look at how they cower Geto, isn’t that a wonderful sight?” mocked Sukuna, as his mirror self stalked toward his girls. The vision muttered something, making both of his girls bow to him, nearly dodging getting their heads cleaved off. 

“You brats, I’ll start with you. You wished to speak to me?” said the future Sukuna. “I’ll grant you a finger’s worth of audience. Now speak.”

Please no , get away from him! Run! Don’t trust him!

But of course, because this nightmare could never end…

“B-Below us, there’s a man in monk’s robes with a suture across his forehead. P-please kill him,” begged Nanako.

“Please, free Geto-sama,” added Mimiko, her voice more steady than her twin’s. 

“No. Please , let me leave this!” begged Suguru, closing his eyes but Sukuna forced them open by holding his forehead back. “I don't want to see—”

Nanako tried to sweeten the deal but was interrupted by the request to raise their heads. When they both raised their heads, in a split second—

SHINK!!!

“ Mimiko! ” screamed Suguru, in unison with Nanako who called for her sister more. In a single second, Sukuna… he… he cleaved Mimiko’s head clean off her neck. “ Mimiko! No, no, no, Mimiko! ”

Sukuna, he couldn’t tell which one spoke, as he tried to force himself to get to his daughters damn it! Nanako kept screaming until, like when he snapped, whipped her phone to attack the King of Curses when another—

SHINK!!!

Suguru slumped against the floor watching half of Nanako’s face cleaved off until her entire self was diced into cubes… there wasn’t a body left… just a pool of blood. 

“No… Nanako ,” whispered Suguru, broken. The whole vision paused, blurring the whole world but the vision of Sukuna, what was left of Mimiko, and the blood of Nanako being the only clear thing. 

His girls.

He saved them. He raised them. He taught them. He watched them bloom into powerful sorcerers before his eyes. The fight left his body, even when his Guide released him from his pin. 

What was the meaning of… anything ? If after he died trying to make a world better for Satoru, for his girls, all it led to was Satoru being sealed for however long that sadistic imposter wanted and his girls dead with one of them not even having a body to bury. 

“You win,” muttered Suguru, to his Devil. “I learned my lesson. When I die… the people I care about… they get hurt. Take me back home, please . I learned my lesson.”

Suguru’s body shuddered against the tile of the station. His heart beat to mimic life, despite the pieces of his heart being either sealed or dead . His chest tightened like all the curses in him were crushing him, no, cursing him from the inside for sealing them. His eyes watered but refused to shed a single tear, he had no right to. 

“Nah.”

Suguru weakly looked up to Sukuna who was admiring his future’s self work. Damn him. 

“What do you mean? You showed me enough, haven’t you?” Suguru asked, forcing him to sit up and glare at this Devil, calling it a “Curse” was far too weak for this monster. 

Sukuna hummed before smiling brightly, almost reminiscent of Itadori’s smile. “There’s one more thing, I oughta show ya. A grand finale you could say! Hold tight Geto Suguru.”

With a swipe of his hands, the scenery was cleaved into dozens of pieces as he fell into a void of space. He watched some memories pass him by, but one that stuck out was an unsealed Satoru demanding a fight with someone for Christmas Eve under the guise that it would be a hassle to have two death anniversaries. When he landed in some debris, he forced his body up trying to find that damn Cursed Spirit. He wanted to leave . Honestly, what could be worse than Satoru being sealed and his girls dead ?

“Curse! Release me!” demanded Suguru, when the sound of an explosion and buildings crumbling echoed around him. He turned to the source seeing the fading light of a— “Hollow Purple?”

Satoru?

Suguru rushed to the source of the fading light when a haunting shink reverberated through his ears, despite how quiet it was compared to the previous two he heard. Forcing some bile down his throat, he climbed over the debris and choked .

No.

No.

He took it back. 

There was something worse than Gojo sealed and his daughters dead . 

On the ground…

No.

… was the cleaved body of…

It can’t be. He’s too strong. Because he’s…

“ Satoru! ” screamed Suguru, rushing to the… corpse of his one and only. “No, no, no, no! Satoru! Wake up! Come on! You did it before! You came to me once so do it again! Come on, you’re the Strongest! You always bragged about that, so…. Satoru !”

Suguru brushed some of Satoru’s hair, thanking whoever allowed it that he was corporeal enough to touch him, out of his fading blue eyes. Using some strength, he pulled Satoru’s head into his lap whimpering at the blood pouring out of his mouth. He curled up around his beloved’s head, as the tears welled up in his eyes.

“You were magnificent, Gojo Satoru. I shall never forget you for as long as I live.”

Suguru held Satoru closer to his chest protectively as his blood ran cold. 

That wasn’t Itadori’s body… that was…

“Megumi?” whispered Suguru in horror. “How did this—”

“Happen?” answered the vision of Sukuna (so that’s where he hid, in plain sight). “Well, Megumi took after your dear Satoru quite a bit. Always trying to save the one he loves from a terrible fate. But answer me, Geto Suguru, was that last line intimate enough for him? You and I both know he’s a romantic at heart.”

Sukuna circled them, making a show of tipping the bottom half of Satoru away from the rest of him, looking at his future’s self-work with a whistle. “Wow, you should be proud. Look at all you’ve done. Who would’ve thought you dying would lead to all this? Gotta say, pretty impressive.”

“This can’t all be my fault,” argued Suguru, keeping Satoru away from the Curse. 

Sukuna hummed half-heartedly. “You’re right. You being alive definitely wouldn’t have saved him from being sealed, I mean, I’m sure Kenjaku had another corpse lying around that would be just as powerful as him seeing his one and only to keep him still just long enough for the Prison Realm to capture him. You being alive for sure wouldn’t have saved those brats of yours, I mean, there had to be another reason they needed to talk to me. But, oh, what about this fight? Without question, would he have gone into this fight alone to save his brat from me? Do you know how many people he loved that were left to cheer him on, genuinely?”

“He had Tsumiki-chan.” offered Suguru, confidently.

“Tsumiki? Ha! She dies as a Vessel before he was even unsealed,” countered Sukuna, crushing some nearby debris. “Try again.”

“Nanami?”

“Pssh, he died the same night your brats did.”

“Shoko. Okkotsu”

“ Those two? They planned for Gojo to lose. Had a whole contingency plan, that involved desecrating his corpse.” 

Suguru opened his mouth, but Sukuna held up a hand to stop him. “And before you say anything, Yaga died after Gojo got sealed. Most of the students are still out of commission from that night. And Itadori Yuuji? He fully believed that Gojo would make it out alive, spoiler, he doesn’t.”

Suguru stared at Satoru’s lax face, tears threatening to come out again. He couldn’t be the cause of all this. He couldn’t…

“But hey, bright side,” said Sukuna, slapping Suguru’s head as he strutted away. “You two share a death date. How sweet. And only a year apart.”

Suguru’s body stiffened to a statue as he whispered, “What?”

“Oh? Did I forget to mention that?” asked Sukuna, mockingly. “Yep, this date is Christmas Eve! A full year since you—”

“This happens in one year? All of this?!” shrieked Suguru, staring at Satoru’s corpse. “I thought—”

Sukuna cackled at his distress. “Oh, my, I’m flattered you think I have enough power to show you anything beyond a year. I’m not that clairvoyant, Geto Suguru. Ohohoho, wow, this whole time you thought, haha, you thought these events were far into the future? Oh, my, if you weren’t going to die so soon, you could be a comedian.”

Sukuna’s cackles faded as he walked away with more of the vision disappearing the further he walked. Suguru stared at his figure before looking down at Satoru’s face again. 

All this…

Tsumiki cursed into a coma .

…pain and suffering…

Yuuji, a boy who knew of the pain of swallowing curses, eating a finger .

…to people close to him…

An imposter using his body to seal Satoru.

… causing all of their deaths…

Mimiko and Nanako’s death .

… happens in a year?!

Satoru’s death .

It’s too much…it’s too much.

The tears fighting for escape finally released as he howled in pain, cradling Satoru close to his chest. He sobs into Satoru’s face, tears dripping like they were blessing Satoru in his death. Muttering Satoru’s name repeatedly, his chest constricts from the pain as his heart shatters a thousandfold. 

“What’s the meaning of all this?!” howled Suguru, before dropping his head back down to touch Satoru’s. His lips brushed against Satoru’s - more blood tainting his soul - as more tears flowed from his face, a never-ending river of anguish and sorrow. “I wanted a better world for sorcerers! But not at the cost of them! A life without them is a meaningless life! Gods, I’m sorry Satoru! I want to save you! I want to save my girls and your Tsumiki. I want to help Yuuji and Megumi! Please , I can change! I don’t want this future for you! For them !” 

Suguru hiccuped in his sobbing when something forced itself up from his chest. An orb, akin to what the curses he absorbed turned into, fell from his lips. Blinking away his tears, he noticed that it felt hot to the touch like fire, it smelled of old rot but also freshly grown trees; and the inside looked like infinite space speeding, slowing down, and… changing . 

Suguru kissed it gently, noting that the taste was akin to chocolate, of all things, as he begged quietly, “Please, let me change.”

Shutting his eyes, forcing the orb back into his mouth, he swallowed it… and began to hack. Curling against Satoru’s corpse, his vision began to white out as he vaguely could see three figures in the distance walking toward him. One body glowed like a gentle flame, another swayed like a tree in the wind, and the last’s eyes shone like stars in the sky. 

“Lesson learned, Geto Suguru,” the figures whispered before his vision went fully white. 

Suguru choked himself awake, hacking like a curse itself was fighting its way back up his throat. He looked around in awe that everything was his own. His nightstand, his bed , just his room . Scrambling out of his bed, Suguru looked for his phone praying that the wish came true as he muttered, “Please, tell me they have the power. Tell me it's not too late.”

When he found his phone he opened it and nearly cried at the date. 

Dec 24 2017. 7:00 AM. 

Something fluttered in his chest as he looked for clues of his Cursed Spirit Visitors, but nothing seemed out of place, not a dent in the wall, no broken alarm clock, no burn marks, like phantoms, their presence disappeared with them. With a sigh, he slumped against his bed in relief he didn’t miss—

“It’s Christmas Eve! Oh, gods, I have so much I need to do and fix! ” yelled Suguru, shooting from his spot. He walked over to his closet, noting all his gojo-kesa, but no, he couldn’t wear that, not after yesterday . “Gods, I don’t know what to do! I feel both light and heavy like there's a weight on my chest, but not as crushing as a curse. I’m…”

Happy? Excited? Giddy ? He wanted to laugh?

“Geto-sama? Are you awake?” 

“I hear movement, he must be.”

Suguru rushed to his bedroom door, swung it open, and nearly tackled his girls into hugs. He wrapped his arms around both of them as they were here . Alive . Not a single scratch on their beautiful heads. He peppered kisses on their faces as he greeted, “Good morning and Merry Christmas Eve, Nanako, Mimiko. My beautiful girls. Oh, today’s going to be a beautiful day.”

“Because of the attack?” asked Nanako, slightly muffled, being squished in Suguru’s hug. 

Suguru pulled back calmly. “No, because it's Christmas Eve and my girls are here to start my day. In fact, no war today… or ever. I’m canceling it.”

“You’re what ?!” 

Suguru turned to find the members of his… organization staring at him in shock - Miguel’s jaw dropped slightly. 

Suguru stood proudly, holding out his hands to help his girls stand, as he explained, “I’m canceling it. I’m going over to see Satoru and apologize for my behavior. No more fighting other Sorcerers, if we must kill non-sorcerers, why not just the bad ones like murderers, conmen, and abusers? Those are the real curses upon this world that make it hard for sorcerers to live peacefully.”

“ Non-sorcerers?! What happened to calling them monkeys?” asked Manami, staring in shock as Suguru walked past them with his girls following them.

“The only true monkeys are those who know of our existence and choose to not accept what our powers are,” answered Suguru, with a calm smile, ruffling his girls' hair. “Everyone else is simply cursed to be blind to the truth and we can only hope they stay good people.”

“What about calling Christmas Eve a meaningless holiday?” asked Larue with Negi nodding in agreement. 

Suguru paused when an image of his grandmother appeared in his head, before answering fondly, “Then we find the meaning. I did.”

With no follow-up questions, he walked outside calling for Miguel to summon one of his flying curses as he said, “As apologies for the short notice, friend, please take this curse to rush as fast as you can to be with your family. I’d offer money for a ticket, but honestly, this would be faster than any airport.”

Miguel stared in shock before nodding thanks. He said, “Thank you, Geto-san. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas Miguel,” whispered Suguru, waving off his friend. Watching him fly off, he turned to everyone else shooing them away. “Everyone go. Enjoy this day, tomorrow, and future days to come. In fact, Manami, if you could be a dear, give everyone a portion of this month’s profits to treat yourselves until the New Year.”

Manami nodded dumbly before dragging the other two with Negi happily yelling, “Merry Christmas, Geto-sama!”

Suguru smiled, turning to his girls who stared at him in shock - he even joked that Mimiko’s cursed doll looked shocked too. “What’s the matter, girls?”

“You… feeling okay Geto-sama?” asked Mimiko, with a tilt of her head. “You’re…”

“...different today,” finished Nanako, before blushing. “Not that different is bad! We always told you to take breaks, but this seems kinda out of nowhere ya know?”

“Oh, I suppose it's something in the air or… an interesting dream,” answered Suguru, rubbing his chest to feel his heart gently beat against his hand. “Would you two like to help me with something?”

The twins shared a look before Nanako answered slowly, “Sure? Of course, but what kind of help could you need?”

Suguru hoped a blush didn’t give it away before he replied, “I don’t think my usual robes are going to cut it today, you see I’m hoping to ask someone out on a long-awaited date.”

The answering squeals from the two of them were plenty of indicators of their feelings on it. 

Suguru brushed his hair back for the millionth time, he knew the girls brushed it fine, but he couldn’t feel a bit subconscious when staring at his reflection in some Shinjuku store’s display window. He almost asked the girls to place his hair in a tight bun as he did in high school, but both of them opted that out because it added stress to his hair. But, he knew waiting here would be perfect.

He watched people pass by, like two young boys running late after staring at a candy display for too long - it was adorable how they had matching keychains of an anime ( Hunter x Hunter if he remembered the title when he and Satoru used to look around bookstores, mostly for him while Satoru just wanted sweets from the cafe). Then two tween boys argue over a copy of Naruto - but over whether Sasuke should’ve been forgiven as easily by Naruto. Two teen boys both carrying a guitar case chatted quietly over the discussion of practice with one teasing about how the other looked so pretty in the snow. Then an older couple, one with thick-framed glasses and the other a foreign man with silver hair, walking a brown poodle on the sidewalk hand in hand with rings on their hands. 

Maybe one day in the future he could propose to Satoru… unless Satoru beat him to it. If Satoru even forgave him to even do this… a potential date. 

But how ironic that now that Suguru paid attention to the world outside of the cage he created, he could see himself and Satoru everywhere. He remembered when Satoru would press his face into a new candy shop before dragging Suguru in to help him pick his afternoon snack. Satoru arguing over something as silly and childish as a series - for him, it would’ve been Digimon . 

But now, he could see a future as well if today went well. Suguru could tease Satoru for his looks in the snow or anything to just make him flustered — when they were young Satoru knew people thought he was attractive, but Suguru knew the real compliments that would affect Satoru wouldn’t be about his eyes or hair, but something people would miss like a dimple on his cheek or his nose scrunching up in the cold. Maybe in a few years - if they went by Satoru’s timeline, probably, that impatient man — maybe they will get those rings, if it was up to Suguru he might wait at least until he repented enough to be good enough for Satoru.

But who was he to fantasize when Satoru wasn’t even here? 

“Suguru?”

Following the voice of his name, he smiled as he greeted, “Merry Christmas, Satoru.”

Satoru winced as he muttered, “Technically, Christmas Eve, but, Suguru aren’t you… I don’t know, supposed to be working on killing all non-sorcerers right now?”

“Oh, uh, I changed my mind,” answered Suguru, wincing at the pathetic answer. “Sit with me?”

Satoru quickly, with an odd look behind his shades, sat down on the other end of the bench — keeping a good arm’s distance away. He asked, openly looking around instead of relying on his Six Eyes, “What’s going on Suguru, cause if this is a ploy to attack the school while I’m here—”

“No ploy, I promise,” swore Suguru, holding a hand up in swear. Satoru’s face twisted, wary of his words, making him sigh more of exasperation of himself than of his distrust. “I promise on the lives of my girls, no ploy, no tricks, nothing to cause harm to any of your students. I just want to talk. Can we, for once, talk, Satoru?”

“You never felt like talking before,” muttered Satoru, bitterly. 

Suguru flinched at his words before replying, “That’s fair and I apologize.”

Shooting him a look of disbelief, Satoru repeated, “ You apologizing? You… actually feel bad?”

Suguru nodded. “I… I should’ve been honest with you all those years ago, Satoru. Back then I was in a dark place, with Amanai, then Haibara, and I had hardly seen you around, I just kept consuming so many curses that at one point I felt more like a curse than human. Then that damn mission happened…while I no longer believe that all non-sorcerers are monkeys, I do believe that those who chose to hate us for our abilities are and that village I killed…they were the definition of monkeys. They locked up these two sweet young girls for it and… I just snapped.”

“Yeah, I heard about that. I understand why you felt the need to do it,” replied Satoru, quietly. “But…why your—”

“Parents?” finished Suguru, his voice thick with emotion. “I… I don’t even fully know. I think I was just running on anger and… I don’t even really fully remember doing it until I walked away. I do… regret it.”

“Heh, that’s more than me. If I killed my family in a blind rage I wouldn’t feel anything,” joked Satoru, leaning back on the bench. 

“Still so rude Satoru,” commented Suguru, a smile inching on his face. “You haven’t changed as much as I thought you would.”

“Shoko and Nanami say I haven’t changed at all,” commented Satoru, shrugging. A smile may be on his face, but a dimness entered his eyes. 

Suguru snorted. “No, I can see you’ve changed. You hold yourself differently, back then it was because you saw yourself as a god—”

“I am a god Suguru.”

“—but there’s more humanity. A god doesn’t fear losing, but I think even back then you did. It’s like you… found meaning in life and you’re living for the sake of living, not just surviving and fighting. I’m proud of you for that Satoru,” finished Suguru, avoiding looking him in the eyes. 

“Geez, you got all that from a less than five-minute conversation?” commented Satoru, wiping his face. “You really took the whole wise cult leader thing seriously.”

“I was always better at reading people better than you, but raising two girls really helps you learn to catch little things,” added Suguru, brushing his hair back, wishing he had his girls to help him with this - but he sent them away to go shopping for presents. “I’m sure you know all about that.”

Satoru froze, his cursed energy flaring up before he glared at him. “What do you mean by that ?”

Right… he’s not supposed to know about Tsumiki and Megumi. 

“Your students,” half-lied Suguru, keeping his eyes on some teens in a nearby shop. “You’ve been teaching for a while, correct?”

Satoru’s energy dimmed as he sighed in relief. “Right, my students . Of course, that’s what you meant.”

“What else could I mean? It’s not like you took in some kids like I did,” probed Suguru, only sparing a glance to see him squirm for a moment. “If I remember correctly, you stated you hated ‘babysitting’.”

Satoru’s feet shuffled, making shapes on the sidewalk, before he answered nervously, “Funny you say that… I actually did.”

“Really?” replied Suguru, feigning his surprise. “How old?”

“Well, Tsumiki-chan turned sixteen in September, but Megumi just turned fifteen three days ago. Let me tell ya, that was a mess of a party. He hates being the center of attention even on his birthday. It took me dragging him and carrying him out of his room to just let him blow out his candles,” explained Satoru, happily as he regaled details about the party. 

Suguru could feel his heart trying to burst out hearing Satoru talk about his kids. Seeing them play and interact did nothing to hear him talk about them. In between an anecdote on how Megumi tried to feed his dogs some food during the party, Suguru commented, “Despite being twins, Nanako and Mimiko love and hate sharing a birthday. Nanako always wants to go out to fancy places and buy all her own presents, but Mimiko would rather stay in and make gifts with her own thoughts behind them. But they love the idea of sharing and bragging which one knows the other better.”

Satoru stared at him, his mouth slightly agape. “You never… you never did tell me their names. Nanako and Mimiko, huh. Pretty names.”

“Mhm, Hasaba Nanako and Mimiko. Nanako is older by seven minutes and she’ll always use that as an excuse to get her way unless she’s feeling particularly generous,” joked Suguru, hoping Satoru would confess his own kids’ lineage.

Satoru pushed his hair back, brushing against an undercut. “Mine… uh, you might hate it but… their family name is Fushiguro… like Fushiguro… Toji. Those are his kids… well kinda. Tsumiki is his non-sorcerer stepdaughter, but Megumi is his blood son, and has a technique.”

Satoru braced himself, which hurt Suguru’s heart and maybe in another universe he would blow up at Satoru about ‘how could you take in the children of the man that nearly killed you’ or ‘why would take in a non-sorcerer’. But all he could say was—

“Poor things having that monster as a parent. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Good job saving them, Satoru.”

Suguru peeked at Satoru, spotting tears glistening in his eyes. Oh, his poor Satoru. He probably hadn’t heard from anyone that taking them was a good idea. Especially, if he took them in at a young age like he did. But, Suguru could only be proud of Satoru. He was the most hurt by Toji but was the one to take them. He’s a Gojo, but he’s willing to go to political war for a Zenin . He’s Satoru, really an angel among men. 

With a shuddering breath, Satoru placed his head in his palms as he said, “I really thought you were going to leave after I said who they were. What happened, Suguru? No one changes this much overnight. You couldn’t have been filled with that much anger yesterday , only to change the next day. Did something happen?”

“You… you could say that,” admitted Suguru, fully turning his body to Satoru. “Let’s say I had… a horrible dream, Satoru. A dream where it said that if I didn’t change, I would lose you.”

“You didn’t lose me when you went all genocidal maniac,” commented Satoru, turning his own body to face him. “Now, if you went after my kids, maybe I actually could hate you.”

“I don’t mean like that,” Suguru cut off, slowly placing a hand on top of Satoru’s, shocked that even now Infinity didn’t activate. “I could stand a world where you hate me, hell, I thought you did, but…in this dream, I would lose you because of me. And I can’t imagine a world where I would be the one responsible for taking you away from this world.”

“Suguru, it was just a dream,” reassured Satoru, reaching to brush back some hair that fell in his eyes, “I’m still here.”

But for how long?

Suguru shook his head. “I couldn’t protect you because I was too far away… just… like back then. But the idea I hurt you? I don’t want a world where that exists, Satoru. I’m so sorry, Satoru, I’ve been hurting you for a long time, but that dream made me think that I’ll only hurt you more if I kept living this lie I built. Please, I don’t deserve it, but is there any way you could forgive me?”

Tears spilled out of his eyes, chilling against his face. He only wanted to talk to Satoru, maybe even attempt to ask on a date, not all this. He didn’t deserve to ask for forgiveness like a pathetic fool, but it slipped out. How could Satoru look at him and say—

“I love you.”

Suguru looked up to see Satoru’s eyes . 

At some point, he took off his shades as he forced Suguru to look at him eye to eye. 

“What?” breathed Suguru, in surprise to hear those words directed to him while alive , nowhere of the threat of death looming over him. 

“I love you, Suguru,” confessed Satoru, his Adam’s apple bobbing at his words. “I… I didn’t think I would say it either today, but I can’t let you think that I hate you and that you need forgiveness. Suguru, I know why you did the things you do. You think I didn’t check on the people you killed after the village? You only went after god-awful people, terrors, and monsters of society. I knew you were good, you always wanted to do the good thing. You want me to forgive you for killing horrible people? Fine, I forgive you.”

“You are far too kind for your own good Satoru. That’s going to get you into trouble in the future,” said Suguru, his voice thick from crying. “Well, if you refuse to let me repent. I’ll repent for myself so I know I deserve your love. As for your confession… I love you too, Satoru.”

Satoru smiled brightly, lunging forward, but Suguru blocked his lips from his face. He pouted against the action, but Suguru scolded, “No, today is Christmas Eve. It’s a romantic day, don’t you know Satoru? At least, let me take you out on a long overdue date.”

Satoru groaned dramatically, leaning his head against Suguru. “Fineeee. This date better sweep me off my feet, Suguru, for making me wait for ten years.”

“I’ll try my best,” promised Suguru, with a smile. He offered a hand to Satoru, who happily took it. 

Suguru knew it would be hard to keep his word on never hurting Satoru ever again, but he’d try until the end of time to keep Satoru safe. It might take another decade to repent for all he’s done, but this was the first step in escaping the shadows of the past and into the light of the future. He’s unsure of what became of those Cursed Spirits, maybe they’re off saving the next wayward soul, but he’s blessed that they came to him to save him. He never will be a good person like he once was, contrary to what Satoru believed, but he could help create good people for the world he wanted for sorcerers, his girls, and his Satoru. And that was as good a meaning as any.