Archive of Our Own

If Satoru Gojo was anything, 'the strongest' was definitely his most suited title. Or, more so, his most commonly used title.

And it wasn't necessarily wrong, anyone born with the Six Eyes would fall under the same title. Satoru Gojo was the strongest because he was the Six Eyes. Because he was lucky enough to inherent a technique that was practically urban legend. If anyone else had been the one to inherit it, Satoru Gojo wouldn't be Satoru Gojo.

And he knew that, the man was only an idiot by choice, but when it came down to things, he was the smartest one in the room. Though he preferred to insist that it had nothing to do with the eyes, claiming at least one royalty to himself even if the others weren't fooled. The 'others' being the Big Three Clans, his parents, Jujutsu Society, curses, nearly everyone knew Gojo wouldn't be Gojo without the Six Eyes and at the end of the day, he was just the child of Lady Luck.

Almost all of them understood how God had obvious favourites in the world of sorcerers, some even went far enough as to imply that Satoru himself had been so favourited that he could be considered a God in his own sense. His clan especially wanted to believe it, raising him as the Six Eyes rather than as a user of it. His identity was synonymous to his abilities, and if someone got word that Satoru Gojo would be on their way to fight them, most opponents would scarper before he could even appear, because Gojo was the Six Eyes, and no one could defeat a weapon as powerful as that.

But the Six Eyes weren't really the weapon, they were just an enhancement, something that allowed strength to come easily in the form of Reverse Cursed Technique, Infinite Void, Limitless, all these abilities, enhanced by those eyes. It just so happened that they belonged to Satoru.

Again, almost everyone knew the dangers that Gojo posessed, the danger that he was. But not Suguru – he knew he wasn't a weapon. Weapons didn't feel pain, after all.

It begun that one Summer Thursday morning, Satoru was walking beside him outside Jujutsu High, leaning his slender frame back as he adjusted his frosty hair, a direct contrast to Suguru whose posture had definitely seen better days, raven locks tied back with a few loose strands hanging over his forehead. People say opposites attract, but for the most part, it was only their appearances that seemed different to one another. Their souls, on the other hand, were practically one.

Geto wasn't particularly paying attention to what the other had been talking about, he was too busy staring at the path ahead, trying to keep his eyes trained on something that wasnt Gojo's eyes, taking note in how his glasses were no where to be seen today. His voice would fade in and out of earshot as Geto's mind wandered, too busy trying to not think of Satoru whilst at the same time, trying to pay at least some attention to his ramblings. It was impossible to ignore him entirely anyways.

"...Cuz people with good childhoods just dont end up playing with dolls for a living, yknow? That, and having some serious underlying anger problems for their students who get yelled at for just existing." Gojo muttered the end half, a slight roll of his eyes following as his lashes brushed against his cheeks with every blink, noticeable even from the corner of Geto's eye.

Suguru let a huff of amusement through his nostrils, pushing his hands further into his pockets as watched the cobblestone beneath his feet, the path leading them in circles around the highschool as they continued their morning walk, something that had good intentions but usually ended with them losing track of time and being late to class. Though, Suguru believed Gojo always knew what time they should head inside, he just refused to go until it suited him. Still, he wasn't complaining.

"I don't think 'just existing' is the reason why Yaga loses his shit on you, we both know you test your luck with him more often than not. When was the last time you were actually punctual to your classes, hm?" Geto glanced to Satoru who pursed his lips into an awkward line, scratching the back of his neck before rolling his shoulder, loosening his muscles.

He opened his mouth to respond before closing it just as abruptly, taking a second to think before flailing his arms up in defeat, making a smirk fall over Geto's lips.

"You're just as late as me and you barely receive as much bitching, its obvious the guy has favourites, and you know it too!" Satoru groaned, dragging his feet more brazenly as if his way of walking was an act of defiance against the High School that Yaga had been watching over in recent years. Ever the subtle one, was Gojo.

Taking note, Suguru elbowed the other's arm, nodding down to his shoes in a way to tell him to stop scraping them across the pathway and of course, Gojo listened, subtly picking his feet off the ground with each step, though he couldn't help but graze them with every other foot forward, just quietly.

"I think he's harsher on you because he knows no matter what you do, he won't expel you. That, and the fact that I'm usually late as a by product of you." Geto hummed, returning to conversation as the two of them rounded the corner the path was taking them, "Don't deny it." He added, knowing Satoru was about to retort without even having to look at him. The huff from his direction told him he was, naturally, right as always.

Geto had never been one for close connections, his ability to see curses as a child made sure of that before he could even begin to try. Even his parents knew he was different, not like the other kids in his neighbourhood, an anomaly, and so his best friend became his shadow because at least that would always be right by him.

He believes that's why he and Gojo bonded so quickly because despite their different situations and living conditions, Satoru had grown up exactly the same way – an outcast. Watching Gojo sway around the corner, he noted the yawn that followed as he replied

" 'M not completely denying it, but I'm not the only one responsible here for checking the time. Maybe he's pissed all the time cuz of his shitty childhood and his dolls are his escape... Wait, I'm kind of onto something here-"

"When you're not buzzing around me all day, do you spend your free time thinking of ways to incorrectly psychoanalyse your teachers, or is this a one off?" Geto interrupted, raising a brow at the other as the sun beat down on them both, encouraging Satoru to unbutton his jacket with practised ease, slinging it over his shoulder to allow the air to sift through the thin fabric of his dress shirt in an attempt to cool down.

Suguru, on the other hand, remained with his entire uniform still on, buttoned up without feeling the impact of the heat too harshly.

"See, I don't feel obliged to answer that now, but incorrectly? Thats just objectively false – yknow what, no, lets hear it, how would you analyse Yaga then, if you're so omniscient, oh Great Suguru-chan?" Gojo dragged out the last syllable, teasing Geto with childish nicknames that he'd grown accustomed to hearing across his training missions together, all because one girl had called him that during a curse investigation the two of them had chosen to pick up. Satoru never let him live it down since, though it came almost naturally to him now.

"First off, big word for you, I'm surprised you can use it-"

"Omniscient?"

"No, 'incorrectly'. Secondly, I wouldnt analyse Yaga because I don't think of my teachers outside of classes where its not necessary." Geto saw the way Satoru rolled his eyes at his teasing and a silence followed by the end of his sentence, lasting a couple beats, "..But if I did, then I'd say he probably keeps all his puppets because he's getting too old to have actual kids so he uses dolls as a stand-in."

A smirk slowly crept up Satoru's face as Geto answered, smiling to the ground in an attempt to hide his amusement but Suguru wasn't an idiot, he knew Gojo's reaction without having to glance his way.

"You're cruel." Gojo hummed beneath his smirk, rounding a dull corner which led to the entrance of Jujutsu High as Geto followed with a shrug.

"Truthful." He corrected, watching Gojo push the doors open before yawning once more into his elbow, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

Suguru took note of his slender fingers and the way they bent into a fist, not that he hadn't seen them before, but everything about Satoru was effortlessly beautiful. The man could literally vomit and Suguru wouldn't be able to view him with disgust. It was honestly impressive.

The clock on the wall ticked by, 8:25 AM. Five minutes to go until class, Geto was almost surprised by the fact they'd turned into the building so early, considering Gojo would usually instinctively keep walking for another two laps. Suguru glanced his way again, watching him stretch his arms and bend his wrists, loosening the built up tension in his muscles, "Tired?" He asked, acknowledging Gojo's slightly delayed reaction as he kept walking, only turning in response to Geto after a few quiet seconds, humming to his question and shaking his head.

"Nah. Well- hm." He thought about it for a second, wetting his lips with a swipe of his tongue before giving him a head tilt, "A little. Nothing I can't handle, I used to pull all-nighters for days, a few missing hours sleep is nothing." He smiled and after a moment, Geto mirrored it with a bit more delicacy, choosing to take his word for it.

They didnt push each other, they didn't try to, at least. Well, Gojo tried it more often than Geto, but Suguru tread lightly when it came to the other's feelings, knowing that if the time and space wasnt right, he shouldn't push. Most common outcome would be Satoru's frustration increasing, giving Geto snappy, blunt responses which ended up pushing him further away from his walls instead of opening them up for him. Sometimes his mind was as impenetrable as his Infinity. That 'sometimes' being because Suguru often found the other's Infinity wasn't always turned on around him – a probable malfunction in his technique.

Just as Suguru went to turn up the stairwell, he found himself halt as the grip of a slim hand curled around his wrist, the sound of his footsteps echoing up the stairs fading before silence embraced the two of them. As he turned to look at Satoru over his shoulder, he was met with icy blue eyes piercing through his own, and only then did Geto truly understand what sorcerers meant when they said the Six Eyes see everything.

"Where 're you going?" Satoru asked as if it werent obvious, making Geto raise a brow as his body shifted to face Gojo. He gestured over his shoulder up the steps with his head and studied the features of Satoru's face.

"..Class, where does it look like?" He hummed in response, listening to the breathy scoff and chuckle escape the space between Gojo's lips which twisted upward, glancing down to the ground once more before tugging Suguru back down the stairs, and of course, he put up no fight.

"You know we're not allowed to be on time, cmon, I've got a date with the vending machine down the hall and you're my wingman." His eyes practically sparkled as he pulled Suguru along and he found himself responding with the same expression, the light in Gojo's eyes reflecting into his own with a glint.

Everything Satoru Gojo did had a reason behind it, even the most miniscule habits or details, they had a purpose, whether it was subconscious or not. He wanted to be late to class, that was a no-brainer. To piss off Yaga? Well, yes. To spend time with Suguru? Also yes. To keep up his usual character in an attempt to mask what was going on beneath the tiredness he was wearing today? ..Probably yes. At least, thats what Geto had discerned, but for now, he wouldn't push. Instead, he let Gojo pull.

..

It was one thing to get a bad night's sleep, but it was another for Satoru to actually feel affected by it. Usually, all weariness he had stirring in his bones was dissipated by late morning, whether it be thanks to coffee or his natural energetic self overriding what tiredness had existed within him, he usually came out brighter than Summer's day, and yet here he was, 10:46AM and slouched over his desk chair.

He wasnt exactly unnoticeable, especially not in a classroom of three kids, but usually, he tended to lean back instead of forward. Suguru tried to convince himself he was thinking overbearingly or just being plain nitpicky but he noticed the way Shoko kept occasionally eyeing Satoru herself. It wasn't just him that felt off, it were as though the entire space around him felt off, as if his feelings impacted the flow of nature. Geto wouldn't be surprised if it did, in all fairness.

He watched Satoru squint at the board, then at his paper, then the board again, eyes half closed and shielding the majority of that icy ocean that circled his pupils. With an exhale, Suguru felt himself instinctively shift closer toward him, nudging his arm in an attempt to gain his attention without disturbing Yaga who sat by his desk in the corner, mind miles away as he stitched up a puppet.

Satoru's head snapped to the side as he felt Geto's elbow, mouthing a 'what?' To him as if he'd been distracted from doing work, despite the pages beneath him remaining blank with a few dots of lead from where he'd been tapping his pencil. Suguru's brows slightly furrowed and he gave Gojo a once over, eyes raking across his face like he'd become a different person or something, checking Satoru was still in there.

"..Where're your glasses?" He muttered, words spilling in a breathy hum as he watched Gojo's face relax a little. He didn't think Satoru even realised how much he'd been tensing until Geto spoke to him.

For someone with so much knowledge thanks to the Six Eyes, he truly was awful at knowing just simple things about himself and the way his body worked. Suguru felt as though he knew Gojo better than Gojo did sometimes, and though it probably came out of habit for the man to not worry about himself, Geto wanted to drill it into his mind that it's okay to put yourself first every once in a while, even if his words went in one ear and out the other more often than not.

"I didn't want them today." Was all Satoru said in response, shrugging briefly and running a hand through his hair, shifting in his seat and glancing to Yaga who remained unaware. When silence followed, Satoru could feel Geto's eyes piercing through him, waiting for something more, making him huff through his nose and flex his fingers against the desk into a fist before relaxing them again, "I'm trying to control how the Six Eyes work. Like, managing or.. or handling the kind of information i receive, shit like that." He added, voice coming in a raspy whisper as his eyes flickered between Yaga and the desk, making sure he looked busy.

A frown formed easily against Suguru's lips as he scanned the other's face, knowing how Gojo had tried this as a child. Not from his own will, of course, but due to the clan wanting their star child to have total control over his abilities and the way they affected him by conditioning him to just not feel affected at all. To put it more simply, they didn't like the idea of Satoru having emotions. He was the Six Eyes, he was their weapon, there was no room for emotions or weakness. He hadn't seen Gojo try to get accustomed to the constant flow of information from the Six Eyes from his own will, though, certainly not in all the time that Suguru had currently known him. His glasses helped minimise what Satoru's brain received, keeping him stable and unlikely to feel an overwhelming sense of everything all at once, so Geto had no clue how Gojo must've been feeling in that moment without having had them on for so long.

"You could've at least brought them with you just incase." Geto muttered, making brief eye contact with him before Satoru averted his gaze once more, his chest falling before he slumped back in his chair, stretching his arms and rubbing his shoulders through the fabric of his white button-up. Suguru caught sight of the bead of sweat running down his temple, making him only inch closer to the other with a quiet shift of his chair against the floorboards. Yaga remained undisturbed.

He didn't want to breach Satoru's personal space or anything, but he couldn't help the worry stirring in his gut, encouraging him to reach forward and brush the hair back from his forehead, revealing the sheen of sweat across his hairline. Gojo put up no fight in Geto's movement, letting him pull his face closer as he noted the heat against his head. With a glance to Yaga and then back to Satoru, Geto muttered, "..D'you need a minute?" Whilst gesturing over his shoulder to the door.

A quiet choke of a laugh sputtered from the back of Gojo's throat at that, feeling his hair fall flat against his face against once Suguru withdrew his hand and in an instant, Yaga's eyes flickered up at the sound. Gojo met his gaze and offered him tooth-rotting smile and wave, pencil between his fingers as he did so whilst Geto tried to make it seem as though he was looking anywhere but Gojo, keeping Yaga's eyes off of him. He didn't want to get moved from Gojo, not right now.

Yaga's brows furrowed as he eyed Satoru, though the others blue made it feel as though he were piercing through Yaga instead of the other way around. Either way, he shot him a warning sign before slowly slumping back once more, picking up one of his puppets which he continued to stitch.

Geto's gaze returned to Satoru, watching him shake his head and cross an arm over his chest, other reached across the desk, holding his pencil in hand and scribbling against the paper.

"Nah. Nah, I just need Yaga to get off my ass for two seconds, maybe that way I'll actually be able to concentrate enough to do the work." He cracked his knuckles and looked over his page which were being covered in tiny doodles of bullshit Suguru couldn't get a proper look at unless up close. He watched the man with caution, taking note of how he no longer made eye contact.

Still, Geto reached a hand into his pocket, shifting past the cigarettes to grab a small packet of tissues which he slid across Gojos desk with gentle ease.

Biting his inner cheek, Gojo glanced to the side at Suguru, "..Really, it's all goo-"

"Satoru."

Just muttering his given name with a stern undertone had Gojo turning his head to fully face the other, feeling the way Geto's eyes tried searching through his own, his brows tugged together and creating a wrinkle between them. Within a second, Gojo felt his throat go dry and body stiffen, it wasnt often Suguru gave him the serious treatment. As the quiet staring continued, Satoru was the first to break it, clearing his throat and reaching forth to grab the packet of tissues, hearing the wrapping they came in crinkle against his palm. Still, Suguru kept watching, ensuring Gojo opened the packet, pulled out a couple of sheets and ran them over his forehead beneath his hair, wiping the sweat from his face. Gojo held a tissue there, holding his forehead but acting as though he were just making sure the sweat was definitely gone because even the idea of appearing vulnerable put him on edge.

As he sat there with his elbow propped up against the desk, eyes half lidded and tissue pressed against his forehead, he stared off into the white of his paper, getting lost in the blank space in front of him as if he were trying to force his brain to replicate the empty canvas.

Geto's view of the other was disturbed once Shoko pushed her chair to lean on the back two legs, looking behind Gojo at Suguru with a raised brow, her eyes flickering between Satoru and him before she gestured two circles around her eyes. Geto shook his head, leaning back slightly so she could see him too as he implied that his glasses were no where to be found, making Shoko's brows furrow before she tipped herself back forward onto all four chair legs.

Just as she parted her lips in an attempt to speak to Satoru, a knock on the door interrupted the classroom. Anyone outside would've assumed it were empty, considering the lack of noise. Or, more so, the lack of Satoru's voice.

With a slight creak, the door shifted forward and Kento Nanami appeared, looking cold as always yet still polite. A year below the others, he wasn't as outspoken as the three of them, someone who tended to keep to themselves and ignore whatever chaotic situations his elders (pretty much just Gojo) were creating. Yaga's head raised as he stood in the doorway and Satoru found his own did too, everyone keeping their gaze on the blonde who's brow furrowed once he realised their class was, in fact, not empty.

"Nanami, whats the problem?" Yaga's voice certainly held a different tone to the younger years than it did to say Satoru, adding a lighter edge to encourage the idea that he wasn't a totally irritable old guy, though Kento literally couldn't care less.

Before Nanami could answer, a sudden squeak of the chair beside Geto ruptured the air and all eyes were pulled away from the younger one within the doorframe

"Nanamin! Is this about your guys' training? Guess your teach realised he needed your upperclassman to take over your sessions after all, huh?" Satoru's voice echoed across the room as if he'd been talking this whole time, enthusiasm radiating from his body as he stuffed the tissues into his pocket, standing upright and refusing to give Yaga even a glance.

Geto watched his quick movements, feeling the corner of his jaw tighten as Gojo continued the theatrics, reciting these lines of a character which he had no need to perform right now. Just because there was an audience, it didnt mean the stage needed its main character.

Either way, Gojo loved being the lead and who was he if not the star? Nanami blinked and went to retort but before he could, Gojo continued, "I'll be right with you, sorry Yaga, i totally forgot to let you know about this little training invite i got. Duty calls when you're the strongest, yknow?" He chuckled, slinging his bag over his shoulder and sliding out of his desk space, hand trailing over the back of Geto's seat as he followed the layout of the furnature to the door, ushering Nanami out. Suguru watched in disbelief, though a part of him knew he shouldnt be the least bit surprised that this was Satoru's response to getting out of a situation that even dared to come across as remotely vulnerable. Before he had the chance to reach out, the other had slipped too far from him, his exit becoming brief and quick as he waved brightly through the half open door, "Thanks for understanding Yaga, see you guys at lunch, okay byyyyyyyeeeeeei!" He emphasised the final syllable, heightening the pitch too before slamming the door abruptly shut behind him, making the snap of the latch sync perfectly in time with Yaga's palms hitting his desk, making both Geto and Shoko's heads flick towards him.

"GOJO, WHAT TH-"

--

"Fuck has gotten into you?" Geto's plate hitting the table and the sound of his harsh voice broke whatever Satoru was lost in thought about, the cafeteria table empty beside Gojo and himself.

His icy eyes lifted at the sound of Geto's voice and the other would be a liar if he said he didnt notice the way Satoru flinched, as if he weren't expecting Suguru's appearance. But he always knew. Usually.

Sliding into the bench opposite him, Geto's eyes narrowed, firmly staring at the other who raised his hands in defense, sitting further upright and blinking in surprise.

"What- Nanami said before that his teacher in their training had considered getting me to-.. help out, so thats what I did..?" He stated it more as a question instead of a firm answer, watching the way Suguru's fingers tightened around the sides of his plate where his seafood sat waiting to be eaten. Opposite Geto, the space in front of Gojo remained empty, as if these tables were meant for staring at instead of eating from.

"Why are you talking like that?"

"What?" It came breathless, the space between his brows forming a crease.

"You're being all uncertain. Stuttery and defensive but your tone is trying to tell me that you're fine, you're doing your Gojo tone." Geto said, watching the way Gojo blinked in response, raising a brow ever so slightly beneath the hair that fell across his forehead.

Geto watched the colour in his eyes glisten under the light of the cafeteria, a dull spark in them different to what had been within them that morning. They appeared bright, but beneath the initial layer, they seemed dreary, almost exhausted.

"My 'Gojo tone'?"

"Your Gojo tone." Suguru repeated it after Satoru had questioned, the two of them bouncing back and forth off of each other like clockwork, only one of the hands must've been broken today.

"Do enlighten me, sorry, I didn't realise I had such an offensive tone of voice to you." His defenses were up again, only this time more apparent. They weren't stuttery and disconnected as though he'd been caught of guard, now they were more self aware, more angry. Gojo was getting angry.

Still, Geto was getting tired of refusing to push. He'd remained at bay this morning, even in class he'd tried to keep his distance, but after that display of a complete mood change once he found a way out of class in an 'unsuspecting' light, Geto couldn't keep sitting back and acting as though he were behaving normally. Nobody switches so fast, and it wasn't exactly like Gojo was a perfect liar.

"I didn't say that, I mean you're trying to act all charismatic when your face tells me you want to shoot yourself in the head and leave the mess for everyone else." Geto continued, seeing Satoru's frame stiffen and his jaw remain tight, his nose crinkling for a moment in discomfort as an almost unaudible scoff escaped. Geto knew he was blunt, he wasn't afraid to spout off his direct thoughts, it just wasn't often that they sounded so harsh when they were about Gojo. But he didn't get special privileges right here.

"Charming, seriously. Where's Shoko, I need her to come over here and fix up whatever part of your brain you've clearly dewired and snapped, hopefully you'll make a full recovery- oh, I'll send you flowers, don't worry-"

"Are you finished?" Geto watched the sweat run down Gojo's temple once more, "Be normal, for once, stop acting, just be Satoru." He sounded almost commanding, his voice unwavering as he shook his head, slowly lowering his eyes as he clicked open the case holding his metal, unconventional but reuseable, chopsticks.

"You need to stop telling me what to do because I seriously don't know if you're my mother or my best friend right now." Gojo shot him a look, the blue in his eyes appearing more silver from the shadows of his hair, similar to the shade of a bullet, still Geto unwavered.

"If your relationship with your mother consists of her telling you to be yourself then I pity you-"

Geto's body jumped as a pair of palms slammed against the empty table space in front of him, his eyes travelling up to meet Gojo's firey ones, watching him practically seethe beneath as he now stood with his hands interrupting Suguru's thoughts. Though anger boiled within his gaze, he seemed far away. Not physically, but he stared through Geto, despite having just stared at him, as if the movement of him standing so abruptly had shifted Geto within his line of vision. Still, he stood his ground.

"You have some fucking nerve, don't think I won't do shit because you're my friend. I don't want to, but if you force me into a position where I have to, then I'm not holding back." Satoru spat, every word spiked from his tongue in an almost unnatural flame of hatred that didn't belong to him. It only made Suguru feel better, because Gojo was showing him some kind of emotion outside of plastic joy, even if he didn't necessarily mean what he preached.

It were times like these that made Suguru all the more grateful about how empty Jujutsu High was because pretty much everyone else was outside, enjoying the Summers day, leaving the little dispute between the two of them private.

Geto nodded slowly as he watched the other's twitchy form, his muscles unbalanced and shifty, eyes flickering over Suguru's body, making him let out a breath through his nostrils before unsheathing the metal chopsticks from their case, accidentally dragging them against the container to create a high pitched 'shing' sound. Just as he went to reply, he watched the furrow in Gojo's brow shift upward at the sound, his body retracting from the table for a second and his knuckles whitening before he returned his focus to the man before him, leaving Gojo with a scoff.

"What, because you have the Six Eyes? Its funny because this whole time, it seemed to me you cant see the most obvious shit sitting literally right in front of you." He almost chuckled, using the chopsticks with ease but not bringing the food to his lips, just watching Gojo shift on the spot and twitch his eyelid.

He wasn't being witty. He wasn't giving Suguru sharp comebacks. Instead, he stood there as though his menacing wall that'd been towering over the seated Geto had been made out of clay, cracks showing in the build as every time Geto's chopsticks brushed against the plate, Satoru would shift or jolt, his grip on the table loosening. Geto's eyebrows drew together as he subtly witnessed the display, moving his chopsticks more slowly as if he were playing with his food.

Still, Gojo remained.. quiet. He seemed itching to speak, his throat flexing and Adams apple bobbing as he swallowed the lump in his throat and for a moment, Suguru thought his body was about to sway before the other firmly blinked, letting go of the table.

"I've got better shit to do than waste my time talking to someone who pretends to be people's friend, alright?" That was all Satoru could think of saying, his mind drawing a blank when it came to any actual insults, though Suguru felt as though that was one of the more hard hitting ones he could've told.

Geto felt the pit in his stomach deepen at his words and he let go of the food between his chopsticks. Anger didn't overtake him, instead he felt a sense of irritation, watching Satoru find his way out of the bench, using his hands to run along the surface of the table before turning to walk away.

"You really are blind." Was all he muttered, making Gojo stop in his tracks and stare forward, away from Suguru and at whatever lay ahead of him, hardly paying attention.

He stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, standing still with wide blue eyes gazing off into the distance, watching anything and all objects that wouldn't make him feel a drop of emotion whilst keeping his back to that which would make him feel waves.

Gojo was used to being the eye of the storm, someone who had control over his little sphere of existence whilst everything around him erupted into chaos. His Infinity ensured the chaos would never hit him, keeping his area calm and unaffected from any outsider dangers. But this danger wasn't from outside, it came from within. Satoru Gojo knew he wasn't invincible when he realised his weakness in that moment were his very own feelings.

Such simple words from Geto, yet they'd hit him a little too close for comfort, something about being seen outside of the Six Eyes, it erupted something he tried to bury. His head thumped at that sentence, every time it echoed, another thump against his skull.

Just as he made a half turn, Suguru had shifted to stand up too, scraping the metal chopsticks against the plate, making Satoru subtly wince. Metal chopsticks. It was rare to find someone use them in Japan, often seen as cold, slippery, awkward to use, and yet here Geto was, having his own personal pair to take to meals in order to ignore whichever bamboo or wooden ones he were given. A simple act of defiance, a way to spite the society that had discarded him, left him unwanted in a non-sorcerer's world, a way to prove his lack of care for other people's opinions and overall, to just prove a point. He was different, he acknowledged it, he embraced it.

Gojo knew he was different too. He acknowledged it, but he tried to become it rather than hold it. That difference shifted the dynamic between the two of them that morning, Satoru was trying to become the weapon rather than the user. And he was suffering the consequences.

Slowly, his body turned to face the other, watching his lips move as he stood facing him from the bench, yet all Satoru could hear was a muffled ringing that slowly sharpened in pitch, raising in volume the more Geto's mouth moved. His lips were hard to read, it felt almost as though the pace were in slow motion and in that moment, Gojo could see every atom creating the makeup of Suguru's face, making him squint.

All day, he'd been suppressing it, controlling the particles the Eyes let him see, controlling the information being relayed to his mind all at once at the expense of his energy. The control was slipping and every time Gojo's eyes flickered to meet Geto's, that drum against his skull ruptured, playing like an off beat band against the inside of his body. It was sharp, harsh, almost like a stab against his brain which forced him to sway a little on his feet.

All day, it'd been brewing, yet he'd been pushing it away, trying his hardest to ensure he wouldn't get a migraine, at least not so early in the day, wanting to make it to final period if anything. He would check the time, yet he could hear every second click by, listening to the echo of the clock hands snap by each time, feeling every tick as a cold slap to his skull. It was 1:18pm. He knew by the sound and the Eyes. 1:18pm and he'd done jack shit. Some control this was.

One second, Geto was two meters away, the next he was nose to nose, then far away again, forcing Gojo to take in a sharp breath with every close up he saw filling his vision, seeing each individual hair strand and the way he was still fucking talking. Close, far away, close, far away, Gojo couldn't decipher where Suguru stood, every blink changed it like a movie cutting from scene to scene, he felt his pulse quicken and head thump again from the strain, trying to control the eyes. As soon as he even thought of attempting control, that thump into his brain only sharpened, encouraging him to choke on the lump in his throat and take a couple stumbling steps back, hand reaching out for a table or wall behind him, watching every object in his vision dissemble on a molecular level. Another sharp breath sucked into his lungs, though it felt more like a pressurised air hose blowing more into an already full balloon. Still, he stepped back, heading further away from the man before him, unable to hear a word he said as the ringing shrilled louder, the ticking snapped harsher, the footsteps thudded firmer, the blood circulated faster, Gojo drew in another sharp breath. The dull ache behind Gojo's eyes planted itself within his brain, tugging on his muscles, veins and nerves, forcing another stab into his mind, an almost silent choked sound spluttering from his mouth as he kept stumbling, crashing against trash cans and walls and tables as he found the doors, shoving past them in an attempt to escape, the stir within his stomach rumbling faster and setting an uneasy feeling deep within his gut, forcing another breath.

He was alright, he was just leaving, away from Geto for a moment, his head was fine, he was going out, he was totally fine. But he just had to open those doors.

But the moment he did was instantaneous, the sun's rays hit Satoru before he could even process it, eyes squinting as he was blinded by the bright flash making his surroundings seem blurred and extremely white, causing him to stumble through the doorway. His breaths came in faster pants as his hand reached out for something to grab onto, only to find void, the pounding against his skull beating in a messy rhythm that made it impossible to get used to, all whilst the shrill ringing continued to play on loop against his eardrums. Whilst one hand searched aimlessly for support, the other came up to try shielding his vision, though he found himself at a back and forth between gripping his hair and trying to keep his eyes away from the light, unaware of how harsh his breathing pattern had become by now as he felt everything all at once. Unable to get his words out, if he even had any to say, strained grunts and mewls of pain slipped from the back of his throat, betraying the image he'd constructed of himself this entire time as the world's strongest sorcerer as here he was, a stumbling, fragile mess who could see too much and yet nothing at the same time.

As his hand continued to reach forth, a gentle palm found its way to his back, though to Gojo, he felt every detail of that touch through the fabric of his button up, having each fingerprint etch through the shirt onto his skin, sensing the soul of which that hand belonged to across the expanse of the touch. With a shudder, he couldn't do much but let himself get guided, having no sense of direction or location in his current state, leaving him senseless to whoever came across him. Seconds of walking felt like hours and slowly, the ringing in his ears were followed by a low voice that he felt through sound waves, feeling the man's voice through the palm on his back, yet all he could make out was, "-..Toru."

Pain. His body was in pain, Satoru was experiencing physical pain and he had nobody to blame but himself, knowing he was entirely responsible and knowing what had caused it. Weapons were made to cause pain, but usually without the intent of hurting the user.

Just as Gojo kept pulling in sharp breaths, fingers twitching, eyes watering, head pounding, eardrums rattling, nerves flaming, it all became dulled in the matter of a second as a dark sheet coated his eyes, pulling his view away from the harsh abuse of the sun and forcing him to see nothing but black. He was unable to pull away from it, feeling a firmness at the back of his head between the locks of his hair, keeping his face pressed into the dark material that shielded his vision and soaked up the drops that his eyes had brimmed with, his breaths hitting hot against it but absorbing them, making them slowly begin to even out. As his palm reached up along the frame holding him up, he recognised the build in an instant, recognised the scent of sandalwood and smoke belonging to the soul that embraced him. The throbbing begun to tire out, beating in softer punts as the ringing lost its aggression, the sound of his surroundings becoming easier to pick up as his eyes remained shielded, "..I know.. You don't have to move. You don't have to speak, just relax." The voice came as a low, gentle murmur, close to a whisper against Gojo's ear and as if automatically, his body started to ease, listening to the instructions given to him, "You're doing great, Satoru."

There, his given name was drawn and in that sweet tone once more, encouraging his breaths to even against the material as he swallowed the choked vocal tremor trying to escape the space between his lips.

Geto watched his partner slump over his shoulder, forcing his face into the fabric of his uniform as the tears were absorbed. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't confused at first, having expected Satoru to continue arguing with him just for him to have instead walked outside into a complete body shut down. But he wasn't stupid, he'd assumed all day the overwhelming power of the Six Eyes had been getting to Satoru, he just wanted him to be the one to admit it. Yet he hadn't, and so here he was, a trembling mess against his body as he recovered from the overload of information and feelings he'd been receiving all day, his slender fingers curling against Suguru's jacket, clenching and unclenching in beats.

He'd directed Satoru to the shade, away from direct sunlight before having pulled him in, trying to protect his eyes with what he had on him – himself. Watching him tremble and control his breathing made Suguru feel a pang against his ribcage as he supported his weight, exhaling softly into his hair and beginning to slowly run his free hand that wasn't entangled into his locks up and down his back in circles.

"Why couldn't you have told me?" He murmured, keeping his voice as quiet as possible, knowing Satoru would be able to hear it. And he did, refusing to give a solid response other than letting out a built up breath through his lips, yet that sigh of defeat told Suguru everything he needed to know anyways, making him subtly nod and exhale, ".. I was worried, we all were." He watched Gojo shudder, "You don't have to say anything yet, I-"

"Obviously I'm gonna say something." The croaky voice cut past Suguru's words like a dull butter knife into the jacket, making Suguru glance to the head of white in his shoulder with a small tug pulling his lips up. Of course he was going to say something. When did Gojo ever become quiet?

With a soft inhale, he continued, "I haven't felt like- this before. I mean, I've had migraines, but.." He trailed off, shifting against Suguru's body and letting his hand that was rolled into a fist against his jacket fall to his side, "..I don't know. I wasn't expecting it to be so..."

"..Overwhelming?" Suguru offered the word like a suggestion, knowing Satoru found it hard to sometimes express his emotions when he was meant to be 'the strongest'. Still, an amused breath blew into Suguru's uniform in response, followed by a gentle nod.

"Something like that." Gojo exhaled and brought his hand up to rub his eyes , still facing the shoulder of Suguru's jacket as the scent of cigarettes etched into the weaving filled his nostrils, somehow clearing them instead of doing the usual opposite. After a couple beats, another huff of tired amusement was dragged from Satoru's throat against the other as he continued, "Y'know Nanamin seemed actually concerned, earlier. When- the training, cuz I was only half lying about that. But I was, like.. I mean, I was pretty sloppy. Messy, snappy, frustrated, not a great impression for the first years."

Geto couldnt help but let a smile tug further up, looking forward at the trees and the back of the High School hiding them from the sun as he listened to Gojo spout off, even if he was mentally exhausted. Having guided him back here was definitely the best move he could've done.

"I'm sure they were filled with relief seeing the strongest sorcerer a rattled mess, you must've really given them hope about the world." Suguru teased, earning a light punch to the side and a muffled chuckle against his collarbone, feeling the way Gojo's body moved with each breath of amusement.

"Seriously, I've never seen that guy look so worried. I wish you could've seen it cuz his face was just-" Gojo was unable to finish his slurred sentence as the soft chuckles continued to interrupt him, sinking his teeth into Geto's jacket in an attempt to muffle the laughter erupting from his throat. Suguru tipped his head back against a tree in response, smiling up at the leaves and running a hand over his dark hair as his other remained on Satoru's back, trying to picture the face of a very awkward, anxious Nanami.

"I'm picturing the face of that one botched tanuki statue we saw in-" Before Suguru could even finish describing the expression Satoru's story reminded him of, a bark of laughter escaped from the man buried against him and he gripped the jacket against Geto, trying to muffle his belly laugh which came out in groggy breaths, making Suguru grin and glance down at him as he clearly recalled the time he was referencing.

"Stop, I'm hurting my head from laugh-" Satoru tried to talk but his fit of giggles interrupted again. Suguru's palm returned to the back of the other's head, massaging through his icy strands of hair in an attempt to ease the ache he must've been feeling through his laughter, "That is probably the- fuck, the most accurate description you could've.. oh my god." Satoru's words died out as he slowed his chuckles and found a way to compose himself, leaning into Geto and smiling against his body as Suguru's face read the same expression.

Their time knowing each other had only been around two years now, but with the memories and bond they'd created, anyone would assume that they'd known each other their whole lives, especially given the way they always found themselves going back to one another like magnets.

"Maybe Yaga will feel bad for you if Nanami tells him how you were acting, stop him from lecturing you if he feels sorry for you." Suguru hummed and Gojo scoffed a chuckle of disbelief against him, keeping his eyes shut against his shoulder but seeing Geto all the same as he shook his head.

"Nanami wouldn't say shit. He'd just.. judge quietly from afar and then continue his day, he doesn't care what I do with mine. Oh, yeah, sorry for leaving you guys with Yaga earlier, how pissed was he?" Satoru murmured, his thoughts slowly finding their way back to him, allowing him to speak a little more smoothly despite the throb against his brain and such.

Suguru shrugged and continued dragging a lazy hand up and down the other's back in slow circles, nails bluntly grazing Satoru through his button up as his breaths came in an even flow, chest rising and falling against Suguru.

"Mm.. Pretty pissed, but it's not like you'll get much punishment. Maybe just extra cleaning time. It doesn't matter for now anyways, you can stop thinking about it." He muttered, continuing to offer a light massage into Satoru's head, trying to ease the pain beneath and melt his thoughts away. The more he thought, the more his brain worked and the more he talked. For now, Suguru just wanted him to be at peace, mind blank and relaxed.

But Satoru always had other plans, never one to rest for long or to take others' advice, always following his own path in life without thinking of the consequences unless it had the potential to harm those around him. Sometimes Geto wished he were a little more selfish.

"Yeah, I'll give him a half assed apology in training when he comes to find me." He uttered, wetting his lips as he swiped his tongue out, having forgotten how much the hot weather and the Six Eyes had been impacting his body. Suguru only frowned and glanced back toward him, pausing the motion of his hands.

"What do you mean 'in training'? You're not going to training today, you basically already did for the first years' anyway." Suguru's voice came gently but with a slightly firmer undertone, feeling the way Gojo subtly smiled against his coated collarbone before finally withdrawing his head just a little, shielding his eyes with his hand acting as a roof, the white part a little red and strained, yet the blue remained sparkling and icy, easy for Suguru to get lost in.

"I'm not completely inept just because I had a little headache, I can handle it." Satoru cleared the grogginess from his throat and Geto's eyes flickered to the stains across his face, his hand instinctively coming up to cup his jaw and swipe a thumb over the discoloured trails down his cheeks. He only hoped the tears had been from his laughter rather than from the pain. Either way, it only increased his concern.

"You said earlier today you could handle shit too, and look where we are." He gestured around themselves but kept his eyes locked onto Satoru's who blinked, glancing down to the jacket which he'd been clutching just a moment ago.

With a slow nod, Gojo licked his lips once more and took a deep breath, making eye contact with the man stood before him, facing away from the sun and shadowed by the overhang of the tree.

"Well then... What now? Just.. go to the dorms?" He suggested, shifting on the spot and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm, already feeling that dull throb behind his skull creep up in aggression due to the light surrounding them. Without second thought, Suguru unbuttoned his uniform jacket and balled it up into his arms, pushing into into Satoru's.

"I'm sure Yaga won't mind us being a day late to training. C'mon, hide your eyes with that and I'll guide you back to your room. You've got a date with some pain killers and pillows and I'm your wingman." He hummed, watching Gojo raise a brow as a small smirk tugged at his lips, taking hold of the balled up jacket and rolling his eyes with a breathy huff.

"You're so original." Was all he said as he hesitantly covered his face with the jacket, inhaling the deep scent of Suguru who's hand made its way to the small of his back, helping guide Satoru forward, "You can walk a little faster, the less people who see my head in a jacket, the better yknow, I've got a reputation to uphold."

His voice came muffled into the fabric but Suguru heard him all the same, smiling as he remained at his chosen pace, knowing Gojo wouldn't care really how long he took.

Weapons were crafted with the intent of causing harm, often born from those who craved power. Many people believed the greatest weapon in Jujutsu Society was Satoru Gojo: a man who wasn't just a beholder of the Six Eyes, but a man who had been raised as the Six Eyes, a man who stood above all when it came to power scaling, a man who had the ability to cause pain that could feel like it lasted for infinity. That was the greatest weapon to exist.

But Geto knew otherwise.

Because weapons didn't take pleasure in the simple things of life, weapons weren't purposefully late to class, weapons didnt have a sweet tooth, weapons didnt have a shitty sense of humour, weapons weren't lightweight drinkers, weapons didn't feel pain, and so if Satoru Gojo was considered a weapon, then Suguru Geto knew the world would surely be a lot more peaceful if all weapons were like that.

Satoru Gojo was never a weapon, he was never the Six Eyes, but if he was anything, he'd definitely be the strongest. Because the strongest knows what pain feels like, and despite it all, they keep going, fighting for the greater good of the world, using their strength for people they've never met, knowing how much it could cost them. To be strong was to feel, and Satoru Gojo was just that, and whilst he may have been the child of Lady Luck, to Geto, he was just the person he wanted to grow strong together with.