Work Text:
Gojo was 27 when he first coughed up flowers.
Bloodstained yellow osmanthus tarnished the white floor as Gojo started coughing. His lungs felt like they were being torn out and he kept choking on the flowers as they came up. The petals scratched his throat and he continued to choke on the clustered blooms.
It was no doubt hanahaki disease, Shoko had told him about it before, how she had a patient die a brutal, loveless death. They had drowned in their own love, she said, before resuming to pick at a brain.
It was nothing by now. He’d had this issue for 5 months now, just half a year after Okkotsu arrived. He knew Hanahaki had a deadline. He also knew that he would be dead in a month.
He already knew who these feelings were for.
There could only ever be one of course.
His one and only.
His best friend.
Suguru Geto.
The man who had left nine years ago to pursue his own murderous, bloodstained path away from Gojo. The man who had killed his own parents in cold blood to prove his commitment to creating a new world. The man who Gojo would have died for.
Even as teenagers they always had something.
It was that something that made it hurt so much to choose between killing his best friend or letting him go.
It was those quiet feelings that let him walk away.
And now here he was, kneeling over a toilet bowl, blood and flower petals staining his mouth, with nothing but a chest full of sorrow and flora. He let out a soft chuckle at the thought of it. The strongest sorcerer, taken out by a bunch of flowers.
It was karma, in a beautifully cruel form. Karma for those lives that were lost. Karma for the slaughter, the manipulation, all of it.
The universe that had blessed Gojo with infinity and the six eyes was now making him face the consequences of his actions.
And he deserved it.
He had let Geto go that day.
Letting out a sigh, he stood up from the ground. Gojo walked over to the mirror to see his reflection. His mouth is covered in blood, yellow petals sprinkled his face like confetti, it was a morbid sight to look at.
Of all the times to get sick, he had to get sick during the middle of a war. Tension was rising between sorcerers and curse users, it was a ticking time bomb until one side attacked.
In the middle of it was Suguru Geto. He was the one who decided to create a new world, where only jujutsu sorcerers existed.
Gojo sighed and grabbed a cloth from beside the sink. He mindlessly let the water soak into it, pumped a bit of soap onto the cloth and wrang it out above the sink. Gojo wiped all the blood off the sink, toilet and floor, using a dustpan to collect the bloodied flower petals. He threw out both the rag and the petals, hanging the dustpan back on a hook.
It had become a habit over time, cleaning the blood and flowers, and dark as it may be, Gojo found slight comfort in it. It reminded him of Geto in the way not many things did.
It was the reminder of those days, the ones where they were all together and happy. When Riko and Haibara were alive, when Shoko wasn’t as exhausted, when Utahime was…well she was pretty much the same.
But it was the reminder of Geto. His jet black hair, his dark eyes. The way he laughed at Gojo’s antics or when they rode a bike together. Geto would always tell him to stop being full of himself, always saying his name with a purr that made Gojo’s heart flutter.
The way he said “Satoru.” always made him blush.
It was lost to time, those days.
Gojo wiped his mouth and took one last look in his mirror. For a second he swore he heard Geto’s voice saying his name. He shook it off, those days were over. Geto was starting a war and the Suguru that Gojo knew was dead.
Gojo took a deep breath and walked out, plastering a cocky grin on his face as he entered the hall.
He walked down the hall, hearing the laughter of Geto and the whisper of his voice in the wind.
The gymnasium where they had argued and had gotten so close Gojo almost kissed him. The field where Shoko tried to teach them about reverse cursed energy and the two were lost.
The classroom where Yaga told him Geto exterminated a village.
Gojo still remembers the shock from that day.
He remembers the disbelief and anger. He remembers the denial and confusion.
But most of all?
He remembers the betrayal.
Gojo continued walking down the hall and spotted the bleachers overlooking the training field. The bright grass whistled in the wind as Inumaki was helping Yuta train. The two looked a lot like him and Geto, but happier. Different.
He sighed as he sat down, feeling a cold metal seat press against his back as he stretched.
Yuta Okkotsu had potential. That was obvious.
What he needed to do was hone his skills and technique, so that he could one day become an even more powerful sorcerer.
Geto was right to seek him out, after all, the man was always incredibly smart. God the Gojo’s heart beat when he saw Geto that day, making the threat to start a war. He was in love with the enemy, and the enemy was out to kill everything he held dear.
————
“You're late again as usual. Satoru.”
Geto’s voice was as smooth as velvet, but his voice had a slight rasp to it, betraying the underlying pain beneath.
“The ones in Kyoto, they were under your command?” Gojo asked, already knowing the answer. There was no point asking, the only reason was to hear Geto’s voice.
Geto let out a proud chuckle, “Yes, they all were. No matter what anyone tells you. I hate those monkeys.” Geto responded, his mouth still curved in that stupid grin that Gojo loved.
“But.. I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High School. Return this for me will you?”
The black-haired man tossed an object to him, and Gojo recognised it as Yuta’s ID card. He pocketed it, turning his attention back to the dying man in front of him.
“Was the elementary school your doing too?”
“It was, you sent those two assuming I’d defeat them didn't you? To set Okkotsu off.” Geto said, his voice was bored but almost teasing, as if he knew Satoru set him up.
“I trusted you’d be yourself. Trusted that a man as principled as you wouldn’t kill off young sorcerers without a reason.” Gojo responded, trying to make his answer as calculated as possible, even though his heart was screaming to say something different.
“I’m a kind person. Unlike you, Satoru.”
Gojo internally flinched at that. He was right after all, but that didn’t make it hurt less.
“To think you’d be the one here at my end…are you going to make sure my family is safe?” Geto’s voice hardened slightly, searching for the answer to the one question he cared about.
A family huh? Gojo thought there was no way he got married. A part of Satoru scoffed at the fact that Geto would even consider starting a family, but another part of him wanted to rip Geto’s partner to shreds.
“Every last one of them managed to escape to safety.” Gojo replied, watching as Geto visibly relaxed. The raven-haired man closed his eyes as he leaned against the wall, the only sign of life being his slow breathing.
“Suguru.”
Geto turned to face Gojo.
I love you.
“Tell me. Do you have any last words?”
I want you.
“I didn’t think I had any of that left in me, after everything I’ve been through.” He said ruefully, his voice hoarse from the fighting.
I hated you.
“I’m sorry Suguru.” That was all he could say. All the things Gojo wanted to say were gone. The words were stuck in his throat, itching to come out, like the flowers that had plagued him earlier.
Suguru’s eyes widened at his words and he let out a soft smile.
“The least you could do… is hit me with some curses before I go.”
“Geto-” Gojo started but was cut off by a cough.
No, no, NO. Not here, not now, WHY?! He internally yelled, but the coughing continued. His throat screamed as the flowers tumbled out his mouth, Suguru’s expression turning into one of…concern?
He continued to wheeze as the petals erupted from his mouth and blood started staining the dry ground beneath him. His eyes widened as some of the petals got stuck in his airways and he wheezed, trying to breathe against the torrent of flowers.
He hacked out another cough, he could feel the blood mixing with the blooming petals in his lungs, the flowers ripping through his throat as he tried to expel them from his body.
“Satoru?”
Geto’s voice broke through the sound clear as day. It was like a breath of fresh air or the sun shining through clouds. Somehow it was like the petals stopped for a moment, allowing Satoru to breathe. Gojo gasped for air, his lungs felt tight and constricted like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the atmosphere.
“Suguru…” Gojo responded, his voice raspy from the coughing fit.
“You have Hanahaki?” He asked softly, as if any noise would bring back the torrent of flowers.
Gojo only had the energy to smile at him.
“Was it for… was it for me?” Geto asked tentatively, his eyes glimmering with what looked like hope.
Gojo said nothing and started walking. He sat down next to Suguru, and he felt the other man’s head lean on his shoulder.
“Of course it was.”
Gojo let out a sigh as he spoke, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off him.
“You were always my one and only Suguru, even if… even if I wasn’t yours.”
Suguru’s head lifted off of him and he felt Geto turn to him. He looked over at the other man and was shocked to see the smile on his face. It was so full of life and…love.
His eyes glimmered in the setting sun as he spoke.
“Satoru.”
“Suguru.”
“I’ve always loved you. From the moment we met I knew you were the one.” He said, his voice was becoming quieter, as if the words were fading from him as he spoke.
“So do me a favor, Satoru. Kill me here and now. I want to die happy.”
Satoru blinked, his mind just processing everything.
Geto loved him.
Geto wanted Gojo to kill him.
“Geto, you know I can’t do that.” Gojo’s voice was thick with emotion when he spoke, betraying his feelings.
“Come on ‘Toru you're far too kind to let me bleed out here. Let me die in your arms.” Geto stood up, wobbling slightly, due to the blood loss and his lack of an arm.
“I’m ready, Satoru.”
Gojo blinked back tears as he stood in front of the man. His long black hair waved in the wind as he smiled with that smile he knew Satoru loved.
Gojo summoned a spike of cursed energy. He walked over to Suguru and placed the tip where his heart was.
Geto gave him a soft nod and Satoru pushed the sword through Geto’s body. Suddenly as he plunged the sword into Geto’s heart, he felt Suguru’s lips connected with his own.
Suguru’s lips were soft, and Satoru felt the last bit of warmth drain from them as the body of his best friend slumped over.
“Suguru.” He said but there was no answer. Of course there wasn’t, the answering call was now dead, lying in his arms, a peaceful smile upon his face.
Gojo felt a single hot tear fall down his face.
How ironic it was, the two strongest sorcerers. They were both black holes circling each other, one destined to win, the other to lose.
Love truly was the most dangerous curse of all.