Archive of Our Own

Shoko will admit that she cared about Geto. Sure, she wasn’t the best at showing it, and now that they were in their third year, and it was getting rarer for the two of them to talk at all, it seemed as if she didn’t. That couldn’t be farther from the truth, though.

Ever since the day she met him, she had been certain they would be close. His near delinquent look, and the irritation they both shared initially at Gojo’s obnoxiousness had immediately bonded them.

And because she cared about him, Shoko noticed. She noticed when he stopped showing up to their nightly smokes, or when he came back more tired than usual from his regular missions. There wasn’t anything she thought she could really do about it, though. Everything would resolve itself later, anyways, when they graduated that year. It was probably just the summer heat.. That always got to them all in small ways. It didn't stop her from approaching him though, one sunny day in September.

“Yo, Geto,” She said as she walked over to him.

He was sitting underneath the tree in the courtyard, a book in his hand that was open on his lap but very obviously not being read. His uniform jacket was off, laying beside him on the grass. His eyes lifted as she approached.

The shade of the tree didn’t cool Shoko off much as she came under it, standing above Geto. She wished she wasn’t wearing the stuffy uniform, but she’d just come out of the morgue. She probably smelt like rot and corpses. That wasn’t something she really noticed anymore, though. The smell had become so familiar, it was more like background noise. Something you didn’t hear when it was there but realized when it suddenly ended.

“Shoko,” Geto replied to her, closing the book out of habitual politeness. His face didn’t draw up into a smile. There were bags under his eyes.

It annoyed Shoko a bit that everything about Geto recently had seemed... polite. Overly so. Before last summer, politeness had been a barrier he put up against everyone besides Gojo and her. Now, it had become something she was used to receiving when talking to him. Why was he so incapable of just being honest? The idiot needed some sense shoved into him. He was moping. Shoko could tell.

Maybe it was because Gojo was once again off on a streak of missions that had lasted for over week already. That guy needed to be on campus more, even if Shoko would never admit she thought that. Would he and Geto kiss already and stop making faces at each other all the time? Shoko would do anything at this point to end their mutual suffering.

“Whatcha doing?” She asked, taking the cigarette in her hand and bringing it to her lips. It was bitter.

“Reading,” Geto said, some snark to his voice. At least he wasn’t completely dull today. “Have you gone blind already?”

Deflection. Shoko wasn’t there to tease him. “Sure.” she says instead of going for the bait. “Was your last mission alright?”

That was when Geto tensed up, at the mention of something serious. She could tell, the way his shoulders stiffen was way too obvious. Was he an idiot? Never mind, she knew the answer to that. Of course he was an idiot.

“It was fine,” He said in reply, “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Which was also a problem. Shoko was sick of this new routine they’d all settled into. It was suffocating, and frankly, boring and lonely as fuck. She sighed once. “Sounds thrilling. Anyways, wanna grab a drink with me? Or do anything, really. I’m bored,” she said. She wanted him to stop looking so depressed already and to just go back to being the annoyingly bothersome guy he had been before last summer.

Geto looked down at his book and closed it. He seemed to think about her words for only a moment before nodding. “It couldn’t hurt to take a break,” he responded, before standing up. He grabbed his discarded uniform jacket and put it over his shoulder.

It was quiet as they walked to the vending machines by the school. Usually, Gojo would be running his mouth off, Geto would be egging him on by antagonizing him or joining on the nonsense in some other way, and Shoko would be rolling her eyes and lighting a cigarette. A cigarette that would be promptly stolen by Gojo, not smoked by him, and then thrown away or given to Geto, would may or may not return it to Shoko.

Instead, there is a quiet nothingness as they arrive at the cold boxes under the overpass.

Shoko got a juice box. She wasn’t feeling like having anything fizzy. She put out her cigarette and put it in the trash can. It probably wouldn't burn up everything in it.

Geto got the usual. A sprite. Shoko pretended she didn’t notice how his finger hovered over the buttons even after he’d already ordered one, and how he had instinctively gotten out two coins when he only needed the one.

They sat on the bench near the overpass, the fizz of Geto’s drink and the sound of sipping the only thing that could be heard. The sun was bright, the blaring of it causing Shoko to shield her eyes.

“Hey Geto,” Shoko started to say, halfway done her juice box, “I know we don’t really talk about things like this, but I was wondering how you were really doing?” It was harder for her to say than she wanted it to be. She felt a little constipated trying to get it out of her mouth.

The question lingers in the air for a moment. Geto shifted in his spot. Had she overstepped? She doubted it. She and Gojo had both asked much odder things than that to him in the past.

“I’m alright,” He said, his eyes focused on the gravel in front of them. “Just tired, I guess. It’ll pass,”

Shoko doesn’t really believe him, but she wanted to.

“Really?” She repeats the question only because she knew she should. Scientific method or whatever. It’s not like Geto would open up easily.

He nodded, his head turning to face her. His eyebags really were dark. “Yeah.” He takes a sip of his sprite. “I should be asking you if you’re okay. You spend nearly all day in the morgue,”

It was true that she’d there for most of the day. The question didn't bother her. Unlike the stupid boys, she knows how to deal with some of her emotions. Not all of them, but she was coping better than Geto, that was for sure. He was being stupidly selfless though, asking her if she was alright instead of talking about what was wrong with him.

“Eh, it’s alright,” she said, shrugging once. “You get used to the bodies after a while. It’s also not like I know half of them. Pretty easy to dissociate from it when you don’t have any sentimental value attached to the person you’re cutting open.”

“That’s... quite a way to put it,” Geto said, thumbing the tab of his drink. “Do you really not feel anything for the people who’ve died? Is it that easy to not care about people’s lives?”

Shoko wanted to say it was difficult to stop caring, wanted to say she’d spent hours thinking about it and debating it in her head... grappling with whether it made her a bad person to not care as much as she should have. She can’t really. Sure, she felt bad that they’d died, but she didn’t let the feelings get to her. If they did, she wouldn’t be able to do what she did anymore.

“It’s my job to be efficient,” she settled on saying, “If I cared about every person who ends up on my table, I would never get anything done.”

Geto hummed in thought, taking another sip. He let out a small humorless chuckle. “I should have expected that answer from you,”

Shoko gave him a small smile. “You really should have,”

There was another silence, and then Geto stood up. “I should get going,” he said, throwing his half empty can of soda into the trash can next to the bench. “See you later,”

“Alright,” She can’t stop him from leaving. Even though they’ve barely spoken and something in her tells her she should have asked him to stay a little longer.

Shoko watched his back as he walked back to the school.

There was something wrong. Something she couldn’t pin point. It was impossible for her to see it.

Why was the issue something she couldn’t understand? With hearts, brains, and cells, there was an issue she could learn about and solve. She could fix something she’d studied. But now, she was simply watching Gojo and Geto get farther and farther away from her as time went on, and it wasn’t caused by anything she could fix. Hell, she hadn’t even known that Riko girl. Was she really that important, to have caused all of this?

Was Shoko not enough for the two of them to rely on? Did they even know they could rely on her? Was she not being a good enough friend?

Shoko didn’t want to linger on it. So she stood up herself, finished the juice box, and then put it in the trash can.

--

Despite all of Kento’s deadpan teasing (because it was impossible for the guy to show any emotion besides being a serious blank faced jerk for some reason); Yu did not have a crush on Geto-san. He really didn’t!

For one, he had a crush on Kento, so he couldn’t have a crush on anyone else. That’s not how that worked. Secondly, Yu just really admired Geto. He was cool, smart, strong, and was super impressive when he fought. Anyone would be impressed by him! So what if Yu wanted him to think he was cool too?

Kento probably found the countless rants a little annoying, but he indulged Yu anyways, which he appreciated.

He’d tutored Yu and Kento a couple times, and Yu always understood everything a little better after Geto explained it to him. He wasn’t the best in school, so he always appreciated the help.

Yu also occasionally got to spar with Geto, and it was always a learning experience. It was pretty difficult to even land a single hit on him, but it was alright. Yu needed the experience. He was a shikigami user, which meant that if he didn’t want to get caught off guard by people who assumed he was bad at hand-to-hand combat, he needed to practice. That’s what Geto had explained to him, so Yu took it to heart.

Though, it had been a while since the two had even gotten a chance to spar together.

Yu’s second year at Jujutsu Tech wasn’t exactly turning out how he’d pictured it. Honestly, the last couple of months had been a little bit of a downer.

Geto and Gojo were both off on missions most of the time, and Ieiri was always in the morgue. There wasn’t time for their upperclassmen to hang out with them. Last year they’d gone to the arcade or out to town at least once a week after class. Now it was basically a ghost town at the school.

Sure, there were the two first years that Yu had been doing his best to get along with, Tsuyu-chan and Kaya-chan, but he’d been busier than usual too. The summer heat seemed to be making the curses restless as well, so there were plenty of them swarming around.

It was on a rare, cloudy day that Yu found Geto-san walking the halls of the school. It was a Saturday, so classes were out. Despite this, mostly everyone wasn’t at the school. Besides Geto and Yu, obviously!

“Geto!” Yu yelled out, maybe a bit too loudly for the quiet corridor, running up to Geto. He placed a hand on his shoulder, not paying much mind to the slight flinch from the other boy. “What’s up with you? Are you free today?”

Geto looked over to Yu, his face softening slightly as his eyes met his. “Haven’t got anything on my schedule. Did you want to do something?” The question sounded a little strained, as though Geto was talking through a thick slosh of something. Yu couldn't really describe it.

All he could see was that Geto looked tired. His hair was undone, loose around his shoulders, and the bags under his eyes were more visible.

Yu’s upperclassman really needed to take better care of himself! Especially since the weather out lately had been awful.

Maybe Geto was just missing Gojo. They did seem to have a rather dependent sort of relationship with one another. Yu wondered if Geto liked Gojo the same way he liked Kento. It was a possibility. He’d talk to Kento about it later.

Yu nodded. “Yeah. Wanna spar with me? Kento’s out on a mission and I’m done all my homework, so I’m out of things to do too,”

There was a pause as they kept walking down the halls. “Alright,” Geto replied after a bit, “But no cursed techniques. You need to be able-”

“To use my fists to fight, yeah! I’ve got it,” he grinned. Geto always reminded him of that. It was hard to forget, after being berated by two serious minded classmates all the time. (Kento never gave it up either).

The two walk out to the sparring ring outside, even though it’s warm out and the two of them will be sweating in minutes. Yu wished he could be out swimming instead of being stuck at the school, but swimming was boring alone anyways.

When they got to the sparring ring, an offshoot area adjacent to the courtyard, which was surrounded by a running track (the place barely counted as a sparring ring, the whole school collectively decided to ignore that), Geto took off the grey jacket he’d been wearing over his tshirt, and placed it on the ground by the stairs.

Yu wondered why Geto had put it on in the first place, but he didn't question it for long, because soon he wass getting into position across from Geto.

“Why don’t we start with some basic hand to hand?” Geto suggested, one foot in front of the other as he raised his hands to his face. "I'll attack, you dodge. We'll see how many times you can avoid my hits,"

Mirroring Geto’s stance, Yu nodded. “Sounds good!”

The first couple rounds of sparring are good, despite the fact that Yu took several nasty kicks to his side multiple times, and forgot to slip half of Geto’s hooks. Every time he made a mistake, he was corrected in a less than gentle way.

Geto was never mean when sparring, per se, but he was tough, and that made it impossible for Yu to lower his guard at any moment. He couldn’t do that when he was constantly dodging and counterattacking punches that shot out like lighting.

There was a reason Geto was the best at melee fighting, despite being the one person on campus who realistically shouldn’t have to resort to fighting close quarters very often.

Yu took a cross to the arm, batting the hit away before backing up by only a step. He feinted a jab before leveling a cross at Geto’s abdomen. His hit never landed, though, and he was kneed in the chin by Geto.

The impact sends Yu stumbling back a bit, rubbing at the spot where he got hit.

“You always forget to protect your face when you go for a hit below the shoulders,” Geto commented, continuing his assault on Yu as he tried to get back into the offensive. There was no break, it was hit after hit after hit.

Yu didn't exactly feel like getting punched in the head, so he did his best to dodge or deflect.

He ended up stuck slipping the punches and throwing useless jabs for a moment or two as Geto kept on offense. Ugh. Yu didn’t like to complain, but Geto was defiantly not going as easy as he usually did. His punches landed harder, and Yu had to constantly recalibrate his positioning, moving backwards like his life depended on it. It was a battle for the ground below them, and Yu was slowly losing. Each hit felt a little more painful.

Geto was landing harder and harder hits, each one barely missing or being redirected by Yu. He had to speed up his thoughts to even attempt a counterattack. It was getting a little painful. Nothing he couldn’t handle, but Geto wasn’t going easy whatsoever anymore.

Geto’s purple eyes glazed over, and Yu let the nervous sweat roll off his forehead as he once again was barely able to dodge a kick to the side.

Geto landed a hook to the side of Yu’s head, which he was too slow to block, and then managed to get a teep into Yu’s stomach.

Yu grunted, losing his footing and falling onto the grass behind him. His legs got covered in grass stains and he sighed, letting himself flop onto his back. It was too hot to be training seriously anyways.

“You’re really going tough today, Geto!” Yu exclaimed, giving him a stifled grin as Geto walked over to him. He received a gentle kick to his side for his efforts. Well, if it had been Kento kicking him, Yu wouldn’t have had anymore air left in his lungs.

“Hm, perhaps,” Geto mused, his dark eyes wandering off into the distance. He wasn’t really paying much attention, despite how brutally he’d just been adjusting all of Yu’s attacks and stances. That look said it all.

Alright, so, Yu may act like he has no idea what’s going on at all times, but he’d survived this long as a sorcerer for a reason! He could be observant sometimes! (Sure, Kento had to point out cursed spirits to him that he missed a little too often, but that was besides the point). So Yu can tell that the summer heat is either really, really getting to Geto, or it’s something worse. He doesn’t want to think it’s anything worse.

Yu doesn’t know how to handle things like... he doesn’t know, depression? Anxiety? Being a sorcerer was an awful job, but he liked doing it. Liked being able to do something, no one else could do. So, seeing Geto so out of it all the time was a little disconcerting.

Yu stood up after a second. The sun was blaring in his eyes, after all, and he didn’t want to feel the burn anymore.

“Wanna go again?” Yu asked Geto, who was staring at something across the field, his hands in the pockets of his shorts.

Geto didn't respond for a moment. His eyes took a moment to refocus before he turned to look at Yu. There’s not a lot behind them. “No,” he replied, his tone cool, but there was something.. Wrong. That was all Yu could use to describe it.

“Alright,” Yu said back. He wasn’t going to push. If Geto was tired, he was tired. “How about we spar again later? I’m free... uh.. Most of the week? I think I might have one mission before then, but I’ll double check! What about you? You free?”

Geto shook his head. “I have a few missions too. One tomorrow, actually,” He said. “I might be free on Thursday,”

Yu smiled. “Got it, I’ll bother you again on Thursday!”

There was a halfhearted attempt of a smile from Geto before the boy picked up his jacket, shucking it on before leaving the sparring ring.

It was the last time they sparred together.

Geto ended up being tired on Thursday. Then he had a mission on Friday. Yu didn’t push.

Yu had a mission with Kento on Saturday. He was busy.

--

Kento was not stupid enough to think that Geto was much better than Gojo when it came to being ridiculous, sarcastic, and really close to evil, but he liked to delude himself into believing so. That way, he had at least one upperclassman that had more than half a brain and could function properly. Gojo was too unreliable to call reasonable, but Geto had some sense of duty, which was more than Gojo. Some.

Anyways, that was why Kento was relieved to hell and back that he was assigned a mission with Geto and not Gojo. (It wasn’t as though Gojo needed anyone to go on missions with him. He was too strong to be tied down by any of his classmates. Even Geto wasn’t privy to the... "privilege"... of attending him on one).

It was Monday morning, and Kento was tired. He didn’t want to get up. But there was an incessant knocking on his door, and he could only ignore it for so long before he exploded. He’d been on a mission the other day, after all. Though, that one was easy, despite it being in a town four hours away.

He wanted to sleep, and then quit work, and never see any of these idiots again.

Instead of that, he got out of bed, threw on his uniform, attempted to brush his hair, and opened the door to a beaming Yu.

How was he this hyper at... he checked his watch... six am?

“Is there a reason you’re the one waking me up?” Kento asked, looking over Yu’s shoulder in case there was a Gojo standing there. He had reason for fear. Yu had once teamed up on him with Gojo and it had ended with a three hour chase, Kento’s clothes and hair absolutely ruined, and way too much whipped cream coating the halls. No one had told Gojo that when you hit someone in the face with a pie, the pie shouldn’t be the size of eighteen of them.

When he properly surveyed the hallway, Kento sighed, his mouth drawn into a thin line.

“Geto’s waiting for you outside,” Yu finally replied, his eyes way too bright. Kento was not over it. “He asked me to tell you to hurry up,”

Kento winced. Oh. Was the departure time earlier than he thought? He didn’t want to be a bother to his upperclassmen. It was probably already stupid for Kento to be tagging along on this mission. It was only against a couple grade twos and potentially a grade one. Nothing Geto couldn’t handle alone.

Kento strongly suspected this was supposed to be a learning experience for him.

“Alright, thanks for telling me,” Kento said, stepping out of his room and pocketing his flip phone. “See you later,”

“Later!” Yu said, waving before running down the hallway in the opposite direction.

Sometimes, Yu’s admiration of Geto annoyed the hell out of Kento. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but it was irritating. There wasn’t a reason for it, Kento didn’t understand why he didn’t like it. But it wasn’t fun. It was like something pricking under his skin and making his stomach feel like it was dissipating in its spot. Similar to going down on a roller-coaster, but without any rail guards. Yu shouldn’t be spending so much time thinking and talking about Geto. It was a waste of his precious time.

Kento was going to strangle him sometime. Give him a few days. He’d get to it.

The sleepiness quickly faded from Kento, and by the time he made it outside and down the stone stairway to the where Geto and their car awaited, he was perfectly awake. He’d never had an issue with shaking off tiredness. After he’d gotten out of bed, that was.

“Sorry I’m late,” Kento said in lieu of a greeting to an even more exhausted looking Geto. The man looked like he’d just crawled out of a grave. Well, not entirely. His uniform was neat, and he had his hair partially up. The real issue was how pale he seemed, and the way his eyebags were way too prominent.

Kento could relate. He wanted to head straight back to the school and simply not face the monstrous creatures that awaited them.

“Don’t worry about it,” Geto said. “It gave me a reason to send Haibara back to the school. He seemed about ready to join us,”

Kento grimaced. That was the last thing he wanted on an early morning. Despite how much he appreciated Yu putting up with him and being his friend, Kento couldn't handle his energy this early for an extended period of time.

Geto gave him a small smile, barely there, but visible, and they got into the car.

The drive wasn’t long. It was only about half an hour, which was lucky considering the distance they sometimes had to travel to deal with the curses. It was longer than students should have to deal with, but it was what it was. Kento sometimes hated the entire system. Too tiring. Maybe he could resort to working a corporate job. But, he had Yu here, so it was worth it for now. He wouldn’t leave him to be a sorcerer by himself.

When they arrive at their destination, Kento feels a pit of dread worm itself into his chest. There were most likely not only a couple of spirts in the abandoned hospital they were dropped off at. If they were lucky, there would be around fifty smaller ones and a few big ones... if not, well, Kento hoped and prayed that Geto had enough curses in his inventory to defeat them all easily.

The hospital smells like rotten flesh, antiseptic, and iron. He immediately registered the smells as they walked down the dank corridors of the fifth floor. Not too surprising. Kento had been getting used to those smells. It wasn’t a thing a normal teenager would know the smell of, but they’re anything but normal at Jujutsu Tech.

It was dim. There were only a few lights on, which would suspiciously flicker whenever they walked underneath them.

Geto walked in front of Kento, two spirits by his side already, and one scouting ahead to ensure there wasn’t anything too dangerous awaiting them.

Kento could practically feel the anxiety radiating off Geto. He really shouldn’t have joined him on this mission. Those damned higher ups thinking this would be a great training experience obviously hadn’t met either of them. This was making Kento nervous too. He wouldn’t admit it though.

For all his anxiety, Kento trusted Geto. He was strong. Cool, and forceful with all his movements.

Which was why Kento ended up mostly watching the fight that enfolds before him when they enter the stairway of the sixth floor.

Hordes of small, oddly shaped cursed spirits descended down on them from above. Half of them were blown to smithereens by Geto’s fire breathing toad-wart curse before Kento could even raise his cleaver high enough to slash through them.

He took a step back down the stairs, only attacking at the syringe(?) shaped things when they got close to them. The majority were taken care of by Geto, who didn’t absorb a single one of them.

Kento understood that. They were weak. Way too weak to have garnered a first or second grade warning on the mission file. That was odd. It probably meant there was at least one first grade amongst the spirits.

His theory was proven right rather quickly. Kento, once again, didn’t have any time to react. The curse descended down the stairs, parting the remaining curses which swam through the air and out of the way of the fire.

But this curse simply walked through the fire, like it did nothing to its greying skin. It looked like an amalgamation of four or six people, shoved together and wearing a dark, decaying skin like layer of a coat. In its many hands were needles, which didn’t seem to have liquid within them. It made a sound that was too close to words for comfort. Was it intelligent? If it was, Kento was astronomically outclassed.

He was only a grade two. Kento frowned in frustration. As much as he didn’t want to, he should let the special grade handle this one.

Kento’s heart beat a little too quickly, and he took yet another step backwards. Geto would need room to summon a curse as quickly as possible to get rid of this thing.

The small number of lights in the double stairway turned off, and Kento grimaced, raising his cleaver higher, closer to his face, just in case-

He barely noticed the needle being pointed at him before a loud sound rang out, adjacent to gunfire.

Kento’s heart stopped for the briefest of moments, his eyes locked on the bullet that was racing towards him faster than his brain could compute.

He was about to die, wasn’t he?

There’s no time to contemplate the thought itself.

Geto moved quicker than the black bullet like projectile, reaching out with a curse coating his hand and cursed energy flaring out of control for once in the entire time Kento had known him. The blue was wild around him, angry and bright like a creature that had been prodded and irritated to its wits' end. Something that had snapped in front of Kento like a tree being struck by lighting in the middle of cloudless day.

Kento’s eyes widened as Geto took the bullet to his hand.

The black haired boy barely winced, shaking the blood stemming from the wound off his hand and letting the large bullet fall to the ground with a clatter.

The world stopped existing for a moment.

Everything snapped back into place when Geto turned to look Kento in the eye, his purple irises blazing.

“Go back, Nanami,” Geto hissed, summoning a barrage of curses. “This one’s too strong for you,”

Instead of immediately following orders like he should have done, Kento swallowed, hesitating. He looked at the curse in front of them, which was stepping down the stairs messily, barely bale to keep itself upright in a way that didn’t look uncanny.

“I said go back!” Geto snapped when Kento didn’t move. His tone was laced with panicked anger, sharper than the bullet that had pierced his hand.

Kento nodded frantically, tightening his grip on the handle of his cleaver before turning on his heel. Running, he almost slipped on the curse blood coating the slick floors of the no longer sterile hospital. It was impossible then to ignore the drumming in his ears and the cold, creeping fear that travelled through his veins.

Only when he’s out of the hospital, the sun on his back once more, does Kento stop running. The car was still waiting for them, the only steadfast thing Kento could rely on in that second.

He almost died. Fuck.

Kento dropped to the ground, sitting down with a huff. His heart wouldn’t stop its incessant beating no matter how many times he took a deep breath in or counted to ten. The supervisor in the car didn’t step out to help him. There was a veil blocking him from their view.

Time passed as Kento kept counting. He counted by twos. Threes. Then fours. At one point he counted prime numbers. Then he went back to counting ones.

When Geto came out of the hospital, his uniform was scorched. The jacket had six gaping holes in it and looked like it was about to fall off. His face was coated with ash and goop that most likely came from the curse when he exorcised it. Geto’s hair was down all the way, free and fluttering slightly in the breeze. It was the only calm looking thing about him.

The last thing Kento noticed was the blue, swirling orb in Geto’s hand. The curse. It was larger than the other curses Kento had seen him collect.

Kento felt a lead like twist in his gut. Like a knife being curled around his abdomen. He should have been able to help. He’d failed his one job as a sorcerer. This was the first time he’d been completely useless on a mission that didn’t involve Gojo in some way.

“You’re alright?” Geto asked, standing in front of Kento. His eyes searched a little frantically over Kento’s form before he reached his hand out to him. He had been checking for wounds, even though Kento hadn’t taken a single serious hit.

Kento noticed that the hand held out to him wasn’t the hand with a bullet hole in it. Did that mean Geto was holding a curse orb with his injured hand? Ieiri would throw a fit. Metaphorically. She never actually threw fits.

He took Geto’s hand, hauling his still shaking form off the ground. “Yeah,” Kento said, confirming Geto’s statement. “And you?”

“I’m alright,” Geto said. It sounded like a lie. One, big lie. “I should probably get something on this wound, though,” he gestured to his hand. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice trembling only the slightest bit.

Kento nodded. “Yeah. I wasn’t hit once,”

Geto let out a sigh. “Good, good,”

On the drive back, Geto swallowed the curse with little difficulty. Kento pretended not to notice when Geto checked his bag and couldn’t find what he was looking for, before turning for only a split second to his side, once again not finding what he was looking for in Kento’s presence.

Someone really needed to get Gojo back on missions with Geto before everyone else went crazy pretending they didn’t notice all their weird longing and tension.

The two didn’t speak during the drive. Kento thought back to the times they’d been on missions together before. There was more talking than none, even though the two of them were quieter than the others when put in a room alone together. It didn’t bother Kento. Not really. He was perfectly fine not talking on the drive back.

He ended up caring, however. Because this wasn’t the usual with Geto.

He’d have to talk to Yu about it later.

--

Satoru was going to go crazy if the separation arc he was going through lasted more than another week. Call him dramatic, but he was absolutely telling the truth. He was ready to hollow purple the entire school, run away, and go die in a pit somewhere by himself tragically. See how the higher ups liked him then!

What was the reason for his eternal and endless agony, you may ask? Well, it was quite simple, really. His pain existed for one reason and one reason alone.

It was Wednesday, and he hadn’t seen Suguru since Thursday the week before. That was almost seven entire days without seeing his favorite person in the entire world.

Satoru was overworked, exhausted, running on four hours of sleep, and desperately yearning for one moment of Suguru’s time. It shouldn’t be so difficult for them to have time to themselves! It had been a month since they’d been able to hang out. That meant they hadn’t hung out since August. It was the 12th of September. There really shouldn’t have been any reason they were separated this long.

Satoru was barely making it through his missions without getting lazy and daydreaming about a second in time where he’d be allowed to hang out with Suguru. Maybe go to the arcade, or buy some chips and cola before crashing in Satoru’s dorm for the rest of the night, playing video games and watching stupid tv dramas that Suguru insisted were better than they actually were. Maybe Satoru would let Suguru choose a movie for them to watch. The black haired boy had been begging Satoru to watch Lord of The Rings with him last summer.

Satoru would let Suguru choose any movie he wanted if it meant they could just be together in the same room for more than an hour again. It was hard to admit, almost ardently impossible, but Satoru wanted to spend time with Suguru more than anything else. It was what drove him to even finish his missions in the first time at this point. Duty wasn’t something he cared about quite yet, no matter how many times Suguru had tried to drill it into his head to care.

All he wanted was to have Suguru lay his head on Satoru’s lap. For Satoru to be able to run his fingers through his hair. Maybe, Satoru would be able to gather the courage to finally kiss Suguru. On the forehead, or the hand. Then to coax some sort of confession out of his lips. It didn’t matter who confessed first. Satoru was certain one of them would lose the game of keeping their thoughts secret. (Satoru never supposed to himself that Suguru didn’t feel the same way. He couldn’t think that way, not when Suguru meant more to him than anything else ever had. He was the one thing Satoru could not let out of his grasp).

Satoru would even be content to simply walk to the vending machines and grab something to drink with Suguru at this point. He wasn’t going to get too greedy.

Those were the sort things Satoru imagined on the countless train and car rides, his head pressed against many different panes of glass. His eyes not bothering to idle over the scenery he’d memorized already.

The only thing he saw when he closed his eyes was Suguru and his gorgeous violet eyes.

The train ride back to the school was torture. Absolute torture. No one could ever know the wreck Satoru had been as the machine powered past landscapes and landmarks at a speed far too lazy for his liking. He wanted to will it to go faster.

There was nothing he could do to make it speed up, unfortunately. All the power in the world rested in his hands, but that was the one thing he could not do. He could not change the laws of physics, no matter how much he studied and worked around them. It was annoying to him, to be so out of control of something that he should have a grasp on better than anyone else.

Maybe, he should focus on perfecting teleporting a little more. Suguru could help him set up the obstacle course. That would be a good idea. Something fun for them to do. There hadn’t been nearly enough fun lately.

It gnawed on his mind as he uselessly attempted to sleep when the sun went down. His brain wouldn’t turn off for even a second to allow him to drift off into a space where time did, in fact, get a little bit faster.

Thankfully, Satoru got home early in the morning on Thursday the next day. That was his one saving grace that thankfully, stopped the world from suffering the fate of a hollow purple straight to its core. (He only considers the affect of a hollow purple on the sun or the center of the earth for a moment. It wasn’t on the top of his to- do list to kill everyone. That spot was reserved for seeing Suguru).

The sunlight had not even touched the roofs of the school when Satoru barged into the third years dorms, walking down the hallway to his room with purpose. His suitcase rested in his hand, dragged along by infinity. Without much care, he threw it on his bed as soon as the door to his dorm opened. The suitcase didn’t fall off, which was a miracle considering how hard Satoru had thrown it.

In all reality, he was being a bit stupid... considering the face the last time he’d done that, and his suitcase had fallen on the ground, he’d gotten a scolding from Shoko for thirty minutes about being quiet in the morning.

She could be evil in the mornings before getting coffee or a cigarette in her system. Satoru didn’t personally understand that, seeing as he wasn’t really the type of person to sleep much at all, but he knew he didn’t want to invoke her wrath upon his poor soul.

The time read four am when Satoru flopped down on his floor. Despite his eagerness to see Suguru and to caress- he meant- uh- greet him, he could wait for a little while. Waking the other boy up at four am seemed a little mean, even for Satoru’s standards.

So Satoru attempted to sleep. On the floor. His eyes wide open as he stared at his ceiling.

The lamp in the corner was still on since the last time he was here. He guessed he’d forgotten to turn it off. The bulb was probably really warm and would go out soon if Satoru didn’t interfere. He could deal with it later. He wasn’t about to get off the floor now. Not when the coolness of it was so appealing, and the hard material below him was more comforting than the numerous hotel beds he’d been forced to sleep in the past nights.

Satoru recalled the nights he and Suguru would fall asleep on this same floor. They wouldn’t mean to, no. But by the means of staying up too late talking, and plushies clutched to their chests as makeshift pillows, neither could deny they’d been lulled into sleep before by those factors multiple times. It was one of the many things Suguru had introduced Satoru to- the whole idea of a sleepover. It had quickly become one of Satoru’s favorites. Yet another thing he’d missed out on growing up in his stuffy clan.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed as he laid on the floor, contemplating all the things Suguru was to him. It would take a literal tragedy to separate them permanently, so Satoru wouldn’t worry too much about the fact that they couldn’t spend as much time with him as he wanted.

Though the feeling of separation was far too close to being stabbed. Brutally cleaved in half at the heart as he waited for another chance to simply have a conversation with Suguru.

When the clock finally read seven am, an acceptable time for Suguru to abruptly awoken, Satoru pulled himself off the ground and practically stampeded his way over to the boy’s room.

Satoru entered without knocking. He was not in the business of being polite. Even if Suguru might have preferred a little warning before this.

Oh well! Satoru had waited three hours, that was the longest he’d waited on purpose for something. Someone sue him later, he had enough money to cover all the costs and would win.

Suguru’s room was still dark, no light was coming through the black curtains, the shutters closed as well. Satoru could barely make out all the posters that lined the walls. Not that he needed to see them to know they were there- with his Six Eyes. One time, Suguru had explained all the bands to him, and had Satoru listen to the music. It was one of his favorite moments in time to think back to.

On the floors are empty ramen packs. Which was odd. Suguru almost never left anything out like that. What was even more concerning, was the almost completely destroyed uniform jacket on the desk chair that had been left there. It seemed as though it was burnt to pieces and then scratched through by a curse. Had Suguru been on a mission that hadn’t gone the best?

Satoru frowned. He wished Suguru would tell him more about his missions, even if he only texted. Suguru didn’t love texting, but he would text Satoru whenever he bombarded him with messages.

Suguru’s form was curled up under the blankets, his back to the wall and his head facing the room. His blankets were half kicked off, and his hair was free around his neck.

“Suguruuuu” Satoru whispered, crouching down beside him by his bed. He poked his forehead twice. “C'mon Suguru, wake up,” he said. “I wanna take you out to town,”

Suguru doesn’t respond, except with a tired groan. He fluttered his eyes open for only a moment, but Satoru could tell he was now awake. He probably hadn’t been asleep for a while, actually. Satoru could tell.

“Please? I’ll pay,” he tried bribing his way into it. Suguru, despite Satoru’s unending wealth, usually ended up paying for their outings. Which wasn’t to say that Satoru didn’t try to pay! Suguru just always beat him to it.

That promise seemed to get a bit more of a reaction out of Suguru, but he still didn’t fully open his eyes. He turned onto his other side so Satoru couldn’t see his pretty face anymore. What a shame.

Satoru frowned, and if anyone else had seen the expression on his face, it would look more like a pout. “Suguru, please?” He coaxed, standing up and sitting on the bed next to him. He was on the edge of the bed, making sure not to annoy Suguru more than he already was. “I haven’t seen you in forever,”

A soft pause infiltrates the moment as Suguru let out an exhale of air, before he pushed himself onto his elbows, then into a sitting position. He was still facing away from Satoru.

“I’m tired,” he said. Two words, that was all Satoru was graced with.

Yes, Satoru could tell he was tired. They all were, weren’t they? The summer had been unbearable, and missions were no fun by themselves. He put his hand on the nape of Suguru’s neck, moving it down to his shoulder.

Suguru was wearing a loose white shirt, he couldn’t see the design on the front of it, but it was probably a band shirt. Satoru had stolen enough of them to know that’s practically all Suguru wore outside of his uniform.

Suguru’s skin is cold and warm at the same time. Was he sick? It was like there was a fire trapped inside his bones, but it was being held back by the fibers of his skin.

“Yeah,” Satoru replied, voice turning less playful and falling into something gentle. “But, y’know, it’s cloudy out today. We can finally have a break from all the sun for once,” he chuckled a little helplessly. How was he supposed to convince Suguru to go out with him? Usually, he would simply agree, or be the one asking to go out in the first place. “I checked the schedule, neither of us have a mission till later or tomorrow,” He absentmindedly brushed his thumb across Suguru’s shoulder.

Suguru turned to face him, shifting under the blankets so he was sitting crisscrossed.

Satoru dropped his hand, letting it rest on Suguru’s leg instead.

“Satoru,” he said, his tone quiet, “Do you mean to say you have another mission tonight?”

Satoru winced. Ah, he’d caught his wording of choice. Suguru had always been able to do that rather easily. He tries to find a way to answer Suguru, but his eyes are drifting over his features instead, the dimness of the room not hindering him in his exhibition.

Suguru looked so tired.

Satoru didn’t know how to fix it. He wanted to. He wanted to so badly it ached. How was he supposed to fix it? He was tired too.

“I do,” Satoru finally responded, finding his words from someplace back in his mind. “But that’s not a big deal, I have until five pm before I have to leave,”

Suguru frowned, his lips drawn into a thin line. “Have you slept?”

No. But Suguru didn’t need to know that. “Sure I have,” he said, crossing one leg over the other, looking anywhere but right into Suguru’s eyes. He could tell when he was lying, and Satoru wasn’t keen on being caught in a lie.

“You haven’t,” Suguru stated, as though it were a sure fact. “You’re still in your uniform, Satoru, I’m not blind,” he grumbled.

With a shocked sound, Satoru looked down to see that he was, in fact, still wearing his uniform. Ah, damn it. “I guess I am. Doesn’t mean I didn’t sleep in it!”

“You don’t sleep on the train rides home. You never did before,” Suguru said.

Right then, Satoru was getting a little annoyed at how well Suguru was diverging the conversation away from going out to town, and onto Satoru’s wellbeing. He was completely capable of taking care of himself, and his RCT made it a lot easier for him to be up and about without properly sleeping anyway. He didn’t need to rest! Not when Suguru was so much more important to him in this moment, right here and now.

“It’s fine,” Satoru said, “I just want to hang out with you. We never see each other anymore, and I’m sick of it,”

Something behind Suguru’s eyes glistened, and he brushed one hand through his hair. “I know, I know Satoru. I’m sorry,”

“Hey! It’s not your fault,” Satoru said, indignant. “It’s the stupid missions,”

Suguru hummed. “I’m always too tired to do anything with you, though,” It sounded final. As though Suguru would forever be too tired to do anything with Satoru ever again. That pissed Satoru off a bit. He wasn’t mad at Suguru, no, never, but he was angry at the circumstances that had forced these sort of dragging and painful moments between them.

“That’s fine,” Satoru said, “It’s not your fault. I don’t mind if we don’t do anything but sit here. I just wanna see your face,” He reached out with his free hand and moved Suguru’s bangs out of the way of his face.

Suguru was beautiful, in all his exhaustion and mess. The line of his nose, the purple of his dark, narrow eyes, the complexion of his tanned skin. Nothing about him was critiqueable. Not to Satoru. He’d do anything to make him smile like he used to. Before everything fell apart, and they’d started unravelling separately.

Suguru looked at the wall for a moment, avoiding Satoru’s gaze. Satoru could still see the small crinkle and the blush on his cheeks.

See, Satoru knew that Suguru wouldn’t not reciprocate whatever it was that Satoru felt. If he was permitted to call it love, that was what he hypothesized it to be. Neither of them confesses it with words, quite yet. The words hang between them, in this quiet box of space.

Before Satoru could say anything else, Suguru brought his hands up to Satoru’s face, and took off his sunglasses, placing them on the bedside table with a soft clink of frame against darkwood.

Satoru didn’t protest as Suguru began to unbutton Satoru’s jacket next. Their faces were so close to one another, and Satoru had to do everything in his power to not lean over and kiss Suguru then and there. It was a battle of himself and his wills. A battle he often lost when it came to Suguru, but something he needed to win now. He also had to ignore the fact that Suguru was currently taking off his jacket for him. It made him think of things a lot dirtier than this simple, unheated moment. He blushed himself.

Satoru’s jacket was placed on the floor, leaving him in the loose white button up, which he never bothered to button completely.

Suguru, with all his tired strength, wrapped his arms around Satoru’s shoulders, unfolding his legs and bringing them both to lie down on the bed.

Satoru went along willingly, settling fully onto the soft bed next to Suguru, his face pressed up against his chest. “Does sleeping count as hanging out?” Satoru asked, his legs kicked over on top of Suguru’s outstretched ones.

“Hmhm,” Suguru voiced in response. “You need it,”

You do too, is what Satoru thought to himself, but he didn’t voice it. Instead, he let Suguru hold him around the shoulders like a stuffed animal, content to sleep and enjoy his company. The blanket laid discarded at their legs, only halfway up Satoru’s calves. It wasn’t needed to keep them warm. The heat outside, and the heat provided by each other's presence was all they could want.

At least Satoru got to spend time with Suguru. That was all he’d been hoping for. Even if it's in a tired, barely there sort of way. Maybe when Satoru woke up, he’d help Suguru clean his room.

--

It’s the last time Shoko had a drink with Suguru.

It’s the last time Yu spars with Suguru.

It’s the last time Kento is saved by Suguru.

It’s the last time Satoru stepped foot into Suguru’s room while the boy was still there.

Suguru left the next week, and never came back.