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Suguru scrolled through social media. It wasn’t a good habit of his but with a nameless faceless burner account no one else would notice. Even if they were no longer his allies, even if they didn’t understand why he had to do this he still wanted to check and see that Satoru and Shoko were safe. Shoko rarely posted but she showed up in Satoru’s enough that it assured him she was fine. One night while partaking in his ill advised habit after putting the twins to bed he saw a new set of pictures Satoru had posted.
In the first photo smiling at the camera was a little boy, a little boy with fluffy pink tiger ears, a set of tiny fangs, and a smile brighter than the sun. Of course Suguru had heard about Itadori Yuuji, everyone had heard about the hybrid child with the same curse technique as Ryomen Sukuna himself. But actually seeing the picture of the child Satoru had threatened to rip Jujustu Society apart for was different. He was so small, smaller than the twins had been. Innocence danced in the boy’s golden eyes. The future fourth Special Grade, an innocent six year old only saved by the grace of the strongest.
The next photo in the set was a selfie of the two of them pulling silly faces Satoru probably goaded the little boy into. And the one after that the two of them laughing clearly immediately after the last one. Satoru looked healthier than he’d been the last time Suguru saw him. He had obviously packed on more muscle than when they were teens but the slight sallow tinge to his skin was also gone, the one that had spoke of not eating or sleeping enough all the while pushing himself beyond what anyone else was expected to do. He flipped between the two photos again a smile playing on his own lips, so terribly terribly fond. Being a father suited Satoru, maybe more than anything else.
Suguru wondered if the twins would’ve liked having a little brother. If they would’ve enjoyed having another sibling around. (If they would’ve liked having two fathers). They had been a bit isolated in their childhood, there were so few children with curse energy born and he couldn’t trust monkey childcare especially with the girls’ trauma. But it still stuck. Every report he got about the little tiger hybrid painted a picture of a kind little boy, a kind little boy Suguru knew Jujutsu society would destroy no matter what Satoru did. The elders had been salivating to raise the child into an obedient weapon to be pointed wherever they saw fit, no clan to claim him no family to protect him. Even with Satoru stepping in he could only completely shield the boy for so long as long as his protector still played the elder’s game.
The next picture made Suguru freeze, standing next to Itadori was a mini Sorcerer Killer glaring at the camera. He had heard of the young Fushiguro boy, the little ten shadows user didn’t seem to be the biggest fan of his guardian, that hadn’t meant Suguru had ever wanted to see him. It wasn’t the child’s fault his father was a brutish butcher of a monkey but it that didn’t make Suguru less wary. Something about seeing the urchin next Itadori made him feel off, wrong in a way, disapproving maybe? The child of that man shouldn’t have been allowed so close to something so innocent.
The photo after wasn’t any better as a monkey girl stood with the boys. She smiled for the camera like she had any right to be there. Her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail as one hand sat on the Ten Shadows user’s shoulder as the over waves to the camera. A sour taste filled his mouth, as he couldn’t look away much like a car crash. He reached for his hand sanitizer out of habit to help swallow the revulsion he felt for that filthy thing standing there in a cream sweater and dark skirt like she had any right. At least the Fushiguro brat was a sorcerer no matter the personal distaste Suguru held for his father but a monkey! A monkey near the future of Jujutsu when he and Satoru were dead and buried. It made him sick.
After a deep breath her scrolled on and found something pleasant, the little Itadori boy sitting with Shoko clearly mid-conversation. It was a more candid picture than Satoru usually did and it washed away the previous sour note with something warm. The little boy’s tiger tail looked as though it was swishing gently. Suguru could see the slight curve of Shoko’s smile, something that had been rare even when they were young. Shoko’s visible joy despite the bags under her eyes from being overworked was like the sun peaking out from behind storm clouds. If anything it hardened his resolve, this was what he was fighting for.
He set the phone down with that. Before fantasies of a world where his friends joined him could dance behind of his eyes, A world where his daughters had two fathers and he also had a little boy. A world with no more curses where the children victimized by monkeys would finally be safe, no longer locked in cages for existing. A world where monkeys couldn’t force a little boy to watch his grandfather be shot as they dragged him away to do who knows what to. A world where an ancient counsel could no longer sacrifice child after child for their own power. A world where he and Shoko could sit together and talk again. A world where he and Satoru were still side by side.
His spies had gotten him a copy of Itadori Yuuji’s file. Monkey mercenaries had killed his guardian in front of the child before dragging him away likely to sell on the black market. Hybrids were rare, hybrids in unusual colors even rarer. Some monstrous monkey had probably looked at the little sorcerer child and seen a quick buck, an object a thing not a person. He’d raged when he read that. It had brought him back to that house, to that man. To looking at two little girls not yet his daughters in a cage. Knowing Satoru slaughtered those holding the little boy captive had been somewhat soothing, to know not only were those monstrous monkeys dead but Satoru was the one who did it. To know in that they were the same. It was all another reason he had to do this: for his daughters, for the little Itadori boy, for Shoko, for Satoru, for Nanami, and even that Fushiguro boy. For Haibara. For Amani.