THE STRONGEST.

Funny how drawn to voids he was.

Funnier still was hearing the thunk of a palm hitting glass and turning to see such familiar blue eyes.

Toji stops in his tracks.

He blinks.

Before any sort of statement could find it's way out of his mouth, he erupted in a gut wrenching laugh. He tilted forward, pressing his forehead against the observation glass for a moment longer before he rubbed the small tears holding onto his lashes.

"Oh man... I really need this."

A lazy grin slid in place as he leaned against the glass casually, tapping the glass with his makeshift weapon.

"Even right now? You sound like you want to do another tit for tat."

He hums as he taps it against different spots of the glass, testing the strength. It certainly was strong. Too strong for him to try to bash through it.

"Actually, leave me in here." He rolls his eyes a bit, stepping back from the glass. He was in a smaller space, like an exam room, and he could cross it in three steps or less. It felt just as much like a prison cell as the one he woke up in.

"I'm not keen on another fight right now, y'know." Not when Infinity was out of his reach again. "And besides - you'd have to get through this glass to do anything."

He taps his knuckles against it quietly before he steps away to peek around the laboratory.

"There's a panel with some lights over there. Go see if it says anything - I can't...see it from here."

Nothing to sense with the Six Eyes, and the lights here made his eyes too sensitive to see that far. Admitting it was a pain in the ass.

"Oh? You think that because you're so powerful, the rules don't apply to you?"

The pad of footsteps brings him closer to Satoru, getting right in his face.

"Jujutsu exists to protect non-sorcerers."

He goes to poke him in the chest, hitting the wall of infinity before he could make a connection with Satoru.

"That is our job here, so get off your high horse and start putting in the effort like the rest of us. Unless you want to take this outside."

"It's because I'm so strong that the rules apply to me more than ever. You know that, don't you?"

He reaches up to brush Suguru's hand away, smacking it to the side as he steps back. There's a smug smile, his eyes hidden behind his glasses.

"You want me to put more effort in? You should remember who weakened those curses you like to toss around. You wouldn't have half of your armory without me. Maybe a thank you now and again would be nice, Suguru."

There's a prickle at the back of his neck. Yaga would be interrupting them soon - if he remembers right.

Kento Nanami rather disliked cold, sterile environments.

It was possibly a surprise for him, considering his penchant for organization and efficiency. Truly, however, he was a maximalist at heart. A man with a taste for the finer things in life, an appreciation for luxury and colorful patterns and good sake.

More than that, though, it reminded him too much of the morgue underneath his former high school. He'd hardened to it--all of them did, it was a part of the profession. Even so, it wasn't exactly a welcome addition, and that wasn't even getting to the situation he'd apparently found himself involved in.

It felt a little like he'd completely gone insane at this point, all things considered. Abducted to be experimented on. Landing himself in an afterlife inhabited by children's video game characters and Hatsune Miku.

More than once he'd considered the possibility that this was all a dying dream brought about by the curse transfiguring his brain. The curse had a penchant for sadism for its own sake, and perhaps had gotten sick of watching people beg for death. He wouldn't put it out of the realm of possibility. Seriously, aliens?

Even so.

Gojo had called in an afterlife for him, so perhaps he was in one of the hells. He was certainly not escaping samsara, he was way too damn materialistic for that. He was also certainly not going to come back as an incarnated sorcerer. Perhaps he'd be reborn as a sea urchin.

Damn it all.

His pace changed to a long stride. The labyrinthian architecture, at least, was not entirely new. He'd also unfortunately grown used to that as well.

Turning a corner, he almost crashed headfirst straight into quite possibly the most fortunate coincidence he'd had since Okkotsu found him. Perfect. A reliable ally and someone who could...

...normally see through something like a labyrinth?

That was concerning. Gojo should have recognized him coming down the hallway. No matter. He'd much rather have someone he could implicitly trust than risk it.

"I'm glad I found you." It was a simple statement of fact. He looked behind Gojo's shoulder, then turned to the right, to peer down another hallway. "It looks like you haven't found any other sorcerers."

Itadori and Zen'in were tough, even without techniques. He tapped his finger on his arm in thought. Inumaki he didn't know outside of his Cursed Speech technique, so he couldn't judge. Fushiguro was good in combat, but had a nasty habit of pushing himself. Okkotsu he wasn't sure about, but the boy had enough strength to defeat--

Right. Him, too. Hopefully, Nanami and Gojo were the last, two out.

Something told him he didn't have much time to benefit from Infinity. How....annoying.

When Nanami nearly slams into him, he puts a hand out to catch the blond's shoulder to hold him, fingers tightened on him before he dusts him off. Satoru was alone, no students trailing on his heel like ducklings this time.

The comment takes a minute to register before Satoru laughs, showing an expression that showed far too much teeth.

"Ha! Ha. You're funny, Nanamin." He pats him once before his hands draw back to cross over his chest instead. "Best avoid running too loudly in the halls - the hall monitors are very strict around here."

He drops his hands, finally giving Kento a look at a gash on Satoru's palm from tearing one of the robots he'd run into apart. It was still bleeding sluggishly into the dark fabric of his coat.

A familiar, unimpressed sigh captured his attention. He recognize that casual and soft annoyed brush of air as his teacher's reaction. He realized that his teacher had not been through as many anomalies as he had and the apathy fizzled away. He moved towards the sound and entered the threshold of Gojo's cell.

A relieved smile graced his face as he waved in greeting. "C'mon," he nonchalantly suggested, "don't stay in one place too long." As they trekked down the ghost filled halls, Yuuji looked over his shoulder, "Do you feel it?" he asked, referring to the muffled barrier that subdued their cursed energy.

He hadn't been awake for very long when he heard the approaching footsteps and looked up to see Yuji in the doorway, silhouetted in the odd glow. It made him give off a frightening appearance until he smiled, his face brightening and chasing off the shadows.

"I'm getting up, I'm getting up." He does get up, patting himself down. His eye covering was tucked into the pocket of his light coat, plucked out and pulled down to block out some of the light.

He had only just fallen in step behind Yuji with his hands in his pockets when his student asked if he could feel the way the space seemed to crush in on them. It tempered their energies like turning the knob down on a stove, forcing them to work with a limited supply.

He chucks the ball directly at his head. Stretching like he hadn't. Not that there was anyone else who could have done it. He just liked being irritating when Satoru was already in a mood.

"You did us a favor by making an explosion that the advisors now have to cover up. We're supposed to be making things better, not parading around our powers to non-sorcerers."

The ball streaks towards him, thrown casually - and in an instant that feels almost too practiced, Infinity halts it from touching him, slowed to an atomic stop where Gojo can reach up take it for himself.

He holds it between his palms, entertaining the idea of popping it for the briefest moment, before he leans forward to get back to his feet.

"You're always saying stuff like that. I don't think you actually feel that way - you just say that to make yourself feel better about it."

The ball is held between his hands before he looks at the hoop on the far end of the room. A moment of calculations has him tossing it over Suguru's head, aimed to swoop into it perfectly.

"I know we can't parade around, but acting like we owe them something just because they're not sorcerers is stupid."

"Yeah, I was - and I will be again, so you better watch your back."

He didn't have his techniques - yet. He would have them again eventually, and then Toji would have to deal with being on the receiving end of his own warpath.

(Or, realistically, they'll make this another very weird chapter of Satoru's endlessly weird life.)

"Watch your back, Fushiguro."

It's a threat that probably seems empty, even with the sharp sting of defeat. It's funny how similar it feels to the first time they ever fought, his eyes locked on Toji's face even when darkness encroaches rapidly on his vision, his body trembling to hold itself upright.

The light faded from Satoru's eyes. The familiar glassy eyed look of a corpse chilled the intensity that had coiled around his muscles. It loosened the springs and made his shoulders sage from the exertion. The borrowed time he was on rung in his ears.

Satoru Gojo dissolved, flaking and carried off by a breeze that was too calm.

Watch your back, Fushiguro.

He didn't feel a prickle of fear creep up his spine at the idea. He's never been one to let paranoia run his life. He won't let it run his afterlife either. Or whatever this place is considered.

The last remnants of the Honored One clatters to the ground, the sign that had been wedged into his side losing it's purchase. The only thing left was the stolen trophy of his blindfold clutched into his bloodied hand.

The only evidence left of their squabble was the property damage left in the wake. He turned and began his trek back to his apartment.

He mutters as he holds the spear. It was a familiar feeling. The only difference was he aimed lower than he had before. He knew where to exactly inflict the max amount of damage and yet he didn't. He could have killed him. Maybe a part of himself wanted to believe that the one before him truly wasn't just some guy.

Toji could kill anyone. That's nothing to be proud of. Killing an adult Satoru Gojo, fully capable and fully realized and fully seasoned in his abilities and skills and...

This was disappointing.

He reached up, fingers coated with some of the blood dripping from the spear, he reached up to grab the blindfold and pulling it off entirely.

"You can't even use your technique. No Blue. Or Red. Or Purple. Just you." Just Satoru Gojo. Just a man.

The broken pole was ripped free, spilling the coveted sorcerer's blood and flicking it onto the pavement.

"Not really worth the wasted effort... Maybe the next time we see each other, it won't be so one sided."

Whenever that will be, he wasn't sure, but he knew it would happen. If it happened once, it will happen again. His pose shifted, grabbing the injured man and pressing the tip of the rod over his heart. A scene he's sure he's seen before. Some distant memory of a movie long since forgotten.

Inhale.

"Yeah, I was - and I will be again, so you better watch your back."

He didn't have his techniques - yet. He would have them again eventually, and then Toji would have to deal with being on the receiving end of his own warpath.

(Or, realistically, they'll make this another very weird chapter of Satoru's endlessly weird life.)

"Watch your back, Fushiguro."

It's a threat that probably seems empty, even with the sharp sting of defeat. It's funny how similar it feels to the first time they ever fought, his eyes locked on Toji's face even when darkness encroaches rapidly on his vision, his body trembling to hold itself upright.

Toji flexed his now suddenly free hand. The sign was ripped from his hand and that was fine. The moment Gojo let them go, they were his again. The broken pole was twirled between his fingers, it was gripped too hard while Gojo was battling with being cut in half by a sheet of metal.

"You're going to bleed out if you keep this up."

He says evenly as he pushed himself further into Gojo's space. He refused to give him a moment of reprieve again. He goes to skewer straight through the sorcerer.

He has to choose between the slice of the sign and stab of the post, and he's reminded of the weak spot of the scar through his body anyways - so it's a clear choice in his mind.

He reaches out to stop the swing from the side even when Toji skewers him, his face pinched more in frustration than pain.

"Yeah, I bet it makes you real happy to be able to fight me when I'm even weaker than a sleep deprived teenager."

He spits the words, venomous when he does, before he bares his teeth in a snarl at Toji.

A blue eye bore through him. Stabbing pins through his limbs but every twitch of excitement seemed to break them one by one. His heart drummed thunder in his ears as his senses zeroed onto the single blue point. The stare of a god that burned straight through him.

Revenge wasn't something he sought after. It never drove him to go beyond his limits or test his luck. There wasn't a deep satisfaction in knowing he could kill Gojo if he tried hard enough. It was the recognition. It was the fact even now with a decade of experience under Gojo's belt, he could be snatched from the sky he ruled.

There wasn't another word as he pushed through the heaviness in the air, kicking up dirt and debris as he closed the distance. The broken sign was thrust forward, a modern lance to slay the greater. To slay the Dragon, the Angel, the Honored One.

A blinded assault as the other end was used as follow up, but how he wished he had his arsenal. Something built for the job and not broken metal spikes made by mortal hands.

He only reveals the one, because Toji launches towards him and he has to bring his hands down to stop the charge forward. He feels the bite of the broken sign against his side, a twinge of pain that registers after a delay as he brings his arm down to snap the sign off where Toji drove it against him.

The other end comes up to follow up, ringing when Gojo catches it against his palm, and he's twisting his grip on it to get Toji to let go of it, to tear it from his grip and try to disarm him.

"Let - go, you-"

His side burns. Even if he manages to get the broken sign from him, he's got an open spot of weakness.

He digs his heels in to push himself away, bouncing back a few feet before he presses his hand around the metal in his side.

He'd do anything to see those eyes again. How is Gojo seeing him? Like a ghost he can't shake? A plague? A curse that still holds his shoulders down just enough to leave a linger ache in his neck? Does he feel the ache of his death like a phantom limb?

Toji stared down at the blood still dripping from the edge of the sign. There was a flicker of those teal eyes raising back to the masked pair as the sign was lifted as he licked the edge of it. Iron teased his taste buds with the sharp aftertaste of steel.

Disgusting despite the pleased and absolutely weird shiver of excitement it gave him. Another memory popped into his mind. Of sea water, sand and a blazing sun and pure unadulterated euphoria that seared into his veins.

The sign is twirled as he finally broke the silence, seemingly coming back to the moment with a few blinks of his eyes.

"It's time for a change anyway, rocking the same school uniform since the last time we've fought is boring anyway."

He looks a little more focused now, as he readies another attack, using the jagged pole end.

He'd like to think he's moved past being afraid of Toji. He's moved past being afraid of most things, really, and using him as a reminder of his past failures in Shinjuku had cemented the past as something to shoulder him through anything.

The silence sends prickles of unease down his spine. He probably should have left then, but the idea of turning his back on this man was absolutely out of the question.

He flips the sign to hold the jagged point instead and Satoru feels his heart kick back to rapid life.

"It's not the same uniform, but I don't expect you to know that."

When Toji moves, Satoru lifts a hand to press his blindfold up from his face, revealing one of those impossibly blue eyes. It lets him more easily take in the minute tension of Toji's limbs, to read his movements better.