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It was the perfect Christmas scene. Straight out of a movie, really. The first and second years were huddled around the TV, a mountain of snacks and desserts on the coffee table. They were watching Die Hard, per Yuuji’s request, and were currently engaged in a heated argument over whether it was, in fact, a Christmas movie. Shoko was perched in a chair in the corner, a glass of wine in one hand and her phone in the other. Utahime was on the line. Shoko threw her head back in laughter at something she said, before whispering something into the microphone she thought no one else could hear.
“I miss you.”
Gojo knew that feeling all too well, but the person he longed for was farther away than any phone call could reach. It happened a year ago today, actually…
He didn’t want to think about that right now. He was supposed to be happy. He needed to find something to get his mind off… him. Gojo looked around the room for something to distract him. Nanami was reading a book in an armchair. Perfect.
“Nanami!” Gojo greeted, draping himself around the armchair. “Merry Christmas!”
Nanami frowned. “Are you drunk?”
“Pfft. A lil bit.” Gojo lied. A lot a bit. But who could blame him? “What’re you reading?”
“Something I won’t be able to focus on with you around.” Nanami closed the book. Gojo chuckled.
“Nanami… are you saying I’m distracting?”
The look Gojo got in return made him immediately regret the joke. Yikes.
“Say,” Gojo mused, changing the subject. “Itadori and Fushiguro seemed to have gotten close lately.” Too close. Megumi was practically leaning into Itadori on the couch.
“Well, one might expect that, considering they’re dating.” Nanami stated blankly, as if he was simply commenting on the weather.
“WHAT!?” Gojo exclaimed, a little too loudly. Nanami frowned.
“You didn’t know?”
“No, I didn’t-” Gojo groaned. “Nobody tells me anything. How could you do this to the great Satoru Gojo! I’m going to bed.” He announced dramatically, expecting a sea of protests. No one said anything. They all simply resumed their activities as if he hadn’t said anything at all.
Fine. Gojo thought. Be that way. They’ll probably be banging on my door begging me to come back before my head even hits the pillow. To be honest, Satoru wasn’t really that upset nobody told him about Itadori and Megumi. He’d had his suspicions anyway. But still. Someone should have said something about it. And they should have been a lot more upset when the great Satoru Gojo announced his departure from the Christmas party!
Gojo retreated to his quarters, his head still buzzing with alcohol. The party was stupid anyway. He didn’t need any of them. He was perfectly content alone. With his thoughts.
“Fuck,” Gojo sighed as he collapsed on his bed. You wouldn’t catch him dead or alive telling this to anyone, but he was not okay. Today just so happened to be the worst day of the year, because had it already been a year? A year since the broken vessel that used to be his best friend slid down against that brick wall, breathing heavily through his last moments? A year since Gojo uttered the words he should have said ten years before?
I love you.
“I love you.” Gojo breathed aloud. “I’m so sorry.” He said this even though he knew his words would reach the ears of no one, much less Suguru Geto. No. Suguru was gone. All that was left of him were whispers of what could have been all those years ago, what could have come from all those small gestures. The way their hands used to brush a few seconds longer than they should, but their fingers never seemed to intertwine. The way their gaze would flit to the other’s lips far too often, only for neither of them to lean in and go for the kill. Satoru had always known there was something between them, but he was far too afraid of rejection to do anything about it. So he waited for Suguru to make the first move, for something, anything, to happen, because why not? He had all the time in the world. Nothing could have prepared Satoru for the possibility of that time being cut short.
Gojo felt his eyes burning with tears now. Fuck, he hated crying. Goddamn it, he was supposed to be the strongest! How could he admit, even to himself, how broken he felt in this moment? It was probably just the alcohol. That was the only explanation for any of this. He was drunk and nothing else. In just a few minutes he would fall asleep, wake up the next morning, and the only evidence of his pain would be one hell of a hangover and nothing else.
Absolutely nothing else.
⤝⤞ ⤝⤞ ⤝⤞
“Satoru,
Satoru,”
The soft baritone voice he only heard in his dreams. Soft purple eyes framed by raven hair gazed upon Gojo, a sight he thought he’d never see again. Strong arms held him tightly underneath a weighted blanket. The mattress was soft beneath them.
Oh, Gojo realized. It’s one of those dreams. Most of the dreams he had of Suguru were nightmares. Visions of his death or his descent into insanity. It was rare for Gojo to dream of just being there in his presence. It was rare for him to dream of simply existing in Sugugu’s arms, safe and protected without a care in the world. Gojo nuzzled closer to Suguru. These dreams were all the same. Peaceful, perfect, and heart wrenchingly fleeting. He wanted to make this one count, even if this was only a word crafted by his subconscious.
“I love you Suguru.”
Geto let out a soft “hm?” at the words before sighing and wrapping his arms tighter around Gojo.
“Go back to sleep, Satoru.”
⤝⤞ ⤝⤞ ⤝⤞
The next time Gojo awoke it was to an empty bed. No surprises there. Gojo let out a soft groan as he settled into a sitting position, expecting one hell of a headache. Oddly enough, he felt fine. Great, actually. Well rested and clear headed, less burdened by all the tragedies that weighed on his heart. It was almost as if he were ten years younger.
Gojo rubbed his eyes and took a look around. Those posters weren’t there before. Neither was that bookshelf.
This wasn’t his room. It took Gojo but a second longer to realize who it really belonged to, because he’d recognize this room anywhere.
This room belonged to Suguru Geto. Or at least, it did. Now it belongs to Megumi. The interior design of the room hadn’t looked like this for at least ten years, which brought Gojo to the only logical conclusion; he was still in a dream. The jujutsu sorcerer smiled at this realization, glad he could steal a few extra moments away from his cursed reality.
Gojo stumbled out of the bedroom and made his way to the kitchen. There he was, broad frame, midnight hair and all. It was so rare for him to have his hair down. Gojo noted that it was the same length it was their second year at Jujutsu High. That was Gojo’s favorite year. It was before everything bad happened. Back then it was just him and Suguru, and nothing stood in the way between them and a future together. Second Year was Satoru Gojo’s happiest year, so it made sense for him to have a dream that took place in that time.
“Goodmorning, sunshine,” Gojo cooed, wrapping his arms around Geto. He felt so warm, so real. If it were up to Satoru, he’d hold on to him forever.
“Someone’s in a good mood,” Suguru said with a chuckle. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re hitting on me.” Gojo pushed him away with a playful shove.
“In your dreams,” he said, because this was the kind of banter they’d always engaged in second year. Just shy of flirting, partners in a delicate dance where they were too afraid to touch.
“Are you making me breakfast?” Gojo asked, peeking over Geto’s shoulder. He was making scrambled eggs. Yum. “That’s so kind of you.”
“Well, initially I was making me breakfast.” Suguru muttered, eyeing Gojo. “Now I’m starting to think the universe has different plans.”
“Do those plans involve making me scrambled eggs?”
Suguru smiled, lifting a hand to Satoru’s chin. Gojo’s heart skipped a beat. Oh, how he’d missed this. Gojo nuzzled his face into Suguru’s hand. He didn’t spare a single worry to what the other thought because this was his dream, his subconscious, and he was allowed to be in love; even if none of this was real.
“I missed you,” Gojo admitted into Suguru’s hand. He felt tears welling up in his eyes because he knew in just a few moments he would wake up and it would be over. Suguru let out a soft laugh.
“Satoru, you woke up in my bed.”
Gojo raised an eyebrow, trying to find humor to hide his pain. “How scandalous,” He murmured with a gasp. “Must’ve been one hell of a night for you.” Geto rolled his eyes.
“Oh, shut up already.” He sighed.
“Make me,” Gojo dared.
“Would you two get a room?”
Gojo turned around with a start. Standing in the doorway, brown hair in a bob and cigarette in her mouth, was Shoko Ieiri. Gojo couldn’t help but fixate on her eyes, happy and unburdened. Her face was free of wrinkles, her body showed no signs of being weighed down by sadness. Oh, how Gojo had missed this.
“You jealous, Shoko?” Gojo teased. “I don’t blame you. It’s not every day one gets to spend the night with the great Satoru Gojo!”
Shoko nearly choked on her cigarette.
“No way. Did you two-”
“No, we did not.” Suguru intervened, because he really was no fun. “Satoru’s just being an idiot.”
“Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” Satoru teased.
“Jesus Christ, at this point you might as well.” Shoko murmured, making her way to the coffeemaker. She poured herself a cup and lifted it to her lips without adding any milk or sugar or anything. Shoko had always taken her coffee black and scalding hot, just like Megumi. Gojo wondered what the kid was doing right now. Probably dreaming about Itadori. Which reminded Gojo, he was probably going to wake up any second. Dreams weren’t supposed to last this long, and they weren’t supposed to feel this real. It was almost as if Satoru was reliving his second year at Jujutsu High. Maybe, just maybe, his prayers for a second chance had been answered.
Suguru sighed. “Not happening. Do you know if we have any missions today?”
Shoko shook her head. “Nope. Just training. You that antsy to risk your life?”
“Quite the opposite actually.” Suguru muttered. Gojo knew exactly what he meant. So did Shoko. Missions were never easy for Suguru. His cursed technique, however powerful, served as more of a burden in his life than anything else. In the end, Satoru knew it would be Suguru’s undoing. The beautiful, dark-haired boy with eyes the color of violets was doomed to madness, isolation, and the deepest kind of sorrow, only to die at the ripe age of 27 by Gojo’s own hand.
To think, he could’ve been there to help him the entire time. Gojo could’ve prevented this. How could anyone call him the strongest when he couldn’t even help his best friend, the love of his life, when he needed it most?
The rest of the day was spent lounging around campus. It was perfect. Just like old times. Same jokes, same games, same smiles and laughs. God, how he had missed this. Every second, Gojo anticipated its end, to be pulled away from heaven by some cruel imaginary force.
“Oh, you thought you had gotten the chance to relive the best years of your life again?
Just kidding!
Nothing is ever going to change the fact that Suguru. Is. Dead.”
Eventually the sun was setting and it was nearly time for bed. If the dream hadn’t ended already, it probably would when Gojo went to sleep. This was the last time he would ever see Suguru Geto so vividly.
He had to make it count.
Gojo took a deep breath as he approached Suguru’s room, as he had done a hundred times before. He hesitated for a second before knocking on the door, which was answered almost immediately by Suguru, a look of surprise on his face.
“You never had the decency to knock before-”
“I love you.”
Suguru’s jaw dropped open. “I-I love you too, Satoru. What is this-”
“No, Suguru.” Gojo interrupted. “I love you. I love you more than anything else in the world. I’m in love with you. Fuck, I should’ve told you eons ago. Before all this, I thought we had all the time in the world-”
“Before what?”
“Let me finish, dammit.” Satoru snapped. Tears brimmed his eyes. He studied every detail of the man in front of him; his silky black hair, his soft velvety eyes, and muscular build. And that was just the surface. Everything about Suguru was beautiful. “I fucked up, Suguru. I lost you once, I can’t lose you again, please I promise I won’t mess it up next time-”
Suguru stepped forward, something shifting in his eyes. Annoyance? No. He grabbed Gojo by the color and looked at him intently, his eyes shining with violet flames. “Just shut up and kiss me, you idiot.”
Gojo didn’t need to be told twice. He surged forward and kissed the man in front of him aggressively, trying to fit every single missed opportunity into that kiss. Dozens of prolonged looks, almost confessions. The years of waiting, hoping, for something to happen, only for their story to end in Suguru leaving and Satoru not being able to do anything to help him.
Suguru was the one to pull away.
“Easy for you.” Satoru thought bitterly. “You don’t know what I know.” He rested his head against Suguru’s, the two of them simply basking in each other’s presence for a few precious, silent moments.
“I love you too, you know.” Suguru admitted. “I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you.”
Tears brimmed Satoru’s eyes as he leaned into Suguru’s embrace. “Why the hell didn’t you do something about it?”
“I don’t know,” Suguru said. He stroked Satoru’s back gently, and Gojo melted into the touch. “Although, I suspect my reason was likely the same as yours. You could’ve made a move too, you know.”
Gojo held Suguru closer. “Don’t remind me.”
Suguru grinned before leaning in to steal a quick kiss. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” He soothed. “Right now, we have all the time in the world.”
“Oh, Suguru.” Gojo’s voice broke as he choked out the words. “If only that were true.” He pulled Geto in for another kiss, softer this time. He threw his arms around the other man, walking him towards the bed. Suguru fell back on the mattress with a soft thud, raising an eyebrow at Gojo.
The blue-eyed sorcerer knew exactly what he was asking for. And Satoru wanted it. More than anything. He’d had countless dreams of fantasies of this exact moment, where he finally got the chance to love and cherish the body of Suguru Geto. Even now, leaning over him, Gojo was unspeakably tempted to say “yes.” Instead, Satoru found himself placing a finger to Suguru’s lips, and pressing his mouth to the other man’s ear.
“Another time.” He whispered. “Tonight, I just want to love you.”
Suguru smiled. “I am more than okay with that.”
A soft grin spread across Satoru’s face. He leaned in to give Suguru another kiss. “I love you,” He said. “And when we eventually become separated, I want you to know that I am going to miss you more than anything in the world.”
“Satoru,” Geto breathed, intertwining Gojo’s fingers in his. “What in this universe could ever possibly separate us?”
Gojo hesitated. The small nook in his brain once reserved for listing all the reasons he and Suguru could never be together was suddenly empty for the first time.
“Nothing,” Gojo answered, with a sudden burst of clarity. “That’s what.”
“See?” Suguru leaned in for another kiss. “We have all the time in the world.”
⤝⤞ ⤝⤞ ⤝⤞
Though Satoru knew that what Suguru had said couldn’t be farther from true, he couldn’t help but feel in those fleeting moments they shared together in Suguru’s bed that they truly did have all the time in the world. Each kiss grounded Satoru more, every point of contact between him and Suguru buzzing until they were the only ones who existed in the world. They were the only ones alive in the entire universe, just Satoru and his one and only.
Satoru lay wrapped in Suguru’s arms as the sun began its slow ascent into the sky. The scene was already beginning to fade. Satoru could feel an indescribable force tugging him back to his real life, calling him back home.
No, he begged. Please don’t make me go back.
“Suguru,” Satoru pleaded, shaking his partner awake. The dark-haired man peeped an eye open in annoyance.
“Satoru?” Suguru shifted on the bed, shutting his eyes forcefully. “It’s too early for this.”
“Suguru, I love you.”
“Satoru.” Suguru opened his eyes again, two oceans of purple gazing at Satoru like he had hung the stars. He placed a strong, calloused hand on Satoru’s cheek, and Gojo leaned into the touch. “I know.” Suguru whispered. “Now go back to sleep.”
Satoru nodded, leaning back into the other man. His eyelids felt weighed down with a force heavier than sleep, one Gojo was not strong enough to resist. A slideshow of images flashed before him in his mind as he allowed his eyes to flutter shut.
Him and Suguru in their third year, lifted up by happiness instead of burdened by loss. They were able to save Riko, who would become a first year at Jujutsu High the following year.
The introduction of another black-haired boy into Satoru’s life, one he would grow to love like a son. Instead of raising Megumi alone, Suguru would be by his side, the second father Gojo never knew Gumi needed. And then a little girl Megumi loved more than anything, whose favorite pastime seemed to be braiding Suguru’s hair. Sweet Tsumiki, who in this reality would never be touched by the unforgiving curse that doomed her in Satoru’s universe. The four of them would laugh, they would cry. But in the end, they were together, and that was what mattered.
Megumi’s first day of middle school, and all the lectures that followed. Suguru’s scoldings always seemed to be more effective than Satoru’s, especially considering Gojo mainly encouraged the behavior. Satoru knew he wasn’t a great guardian, but he was a better one with Suguru by his side.
And then, there was that fateful day that changed anything. The pink haired boy who in Gojo’s universe had swallowed Sukuna’s finger, the boy Megumi begged him to save. Except this time, Suguru had dragged Satoru to the scene just a little bit earlier, and they had defeated the curse before Itadori even got the chance to eat the finger. Then, Satoru would watch Megumi slowly fall in love by Suguru’s side, instead of witnessing it alone.
Slow dancing, movies, cooking and dinner dates. Simple, domestic charms. Every single aspect of this vision was beautiful, every moment until the day Satoru died knowing he had lived a full life by his best friend’s side. Gojo felt a wave of contentment as the images faded away, followed by an immediate sense of loss when he woke up in his bed.
Alone.
⤝⤞ ⤝⤞ ⤝⤞
The room was dark when Gojo awoke. Darker than it should be. Despite feeling like he had slept through the entire night and then some, the sky was still pitch black outside Gojo’s window.
Oh hell, he thought, stretching his arms. Did I really sleep through an entire day? Gojo slid out of bed, blankets falling to the floor. He didn’t feel hungover either. If anything, he still felt drunk. That’s odd.
Gojo stumbled out of his room and into the hall. All the lights were out, except there was a slight glow emanating out of one of the common rooms, with music playing faintly.
No, Gojo thought. There’s no way. But it was true. Satoru opened the door to a still very active Christmas party. The students had finished their movie, which had been replaced by western Christmas music playing on Nanami’s speakers. Maki and Nobara were engaged in an incredibly competitive game of Mario Kart, while Nanami, Shoko, Inumaki, and Panda sat at a table playing cards.
And then there was Itadori and Megumi. The two teens stood slow dancing in each other’s arms a few feet away from the speaker. Itadori sported his usual goofy grin, staring at Megumi like he was the only thing in the universe. Megumi met his gaze much more tentatively, a scarlet blush spreading all over his face.
It was Inumaki who noticed Gojo first.
“Salmon roe!” He cried, pointing a finger at Gojo. “Tuna tuna!” The whole room turned to look, with varying reactions. Shoko gave a slight smile, Nanami rolled his eyes in annoyance. Itadori and Megumi took a step farther away from each other, likely out of fear of Gojo making a joke about “leaving space for God,” or something.
“Back already?” Shoko deadpanned. Gojo rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. For the first time in a while, he was at a loss for words.
“I uh… fell asleep.” He admitted. “How long was I gone?”
Maki let out a laugh. “Good forty five minutes. Maybe thirty.”
Gojo nodded, taking a seat on the couch. He needed to pull himself together. If he kept acting like this, someone was going to notice something was wrong. The dream, vision, or whatever that was, still felt fresh in his mind. As Satoru looked around at the perfect scene in front of him, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if Suguru were here.
Satoru felt the couch cushions shift as someone took a seat next to him. Nanami. Gojo gave him a smile before turning his focus to Maki and Nobara’s game of Mario Kart, which might end up being the cause of their breakup with how intense the race was. Seriously; Gojo couldn't remember the last time he saw two people get so heated over video games.
“Hey,” Nanami prompted. “I’m not going to ask if you’re okay, because I know you aren’t. But if there’s anything I can do, please, let me know.”
Satoru shrugged. “I’m fine. It’s just weird, you know?” He leaned into the back of the couch, shifting his gaze to the ceiling. “I keep imagining what it would be like if he were here. And it’s funny, because I don’t even have to imagine that hard. I know the exact songs he would play, all the jokes he would make, the foods he would have liked.” Satoru swallowed back a sob. He wasn’t going to cry. Not here. Not with Nanami and Shoko and his students watching. It would be beyond shameful.
Nanami nodded. “I suppose I can understand that. I can’t look at anything here right now without thinking about how much Haibara would have loved this. I know it’s been a long time, but you know. He always loved Christmas.” Nanami turned to look at Itadori as he took Megumi’s hand and spun him around, laughing. “Him and Yuuji would have gotten along great.”
“Yeah,” Gojo mused. “He would’ve.” They sat in silence for a few moments, Shoko eventually joining them. With the music playing softly and laughter echoing off the walls, the room felt so full of life, yet loss at the same time.
“I love you,” Gojo said. “And when we eventually become separated, I want you to know that I am going to miss you more than anything in the world.”
“Satoru,” Geto breathed, intertwining Gojo’s fingers in his. “What in this universe could ever possibly separate us?”
Gojo hesitated. The small nook in his brain once reserved for listing all the reasons he and Suguru could never be together was suddenly empty for the first time.
“Nothing,” Gojo answered, with a sudden burst of clarity. “That’s what.”
Suguru was gone. He was gone, but he was still here, tied to the living world through love and memories and wishes and grief. Suguru was a part of Satoru, one that would both hurt him and heal him until that fateful day where they would meet again in the next world.
Gojo sighed, finally allowing himself to give in. A single, liberating tear fell down his cheek.
…
I can’t wait to see you again.