forsaken

--

Tōji expected dying to stick. 

It didn’t seem like an unreasonable assumption. Life was shit, but it was consistent. His luck was terrible, his strength was undeniable, and his days were boring. The only flash of excitement Tōji had in years was fighting a kid half his age. Life was the same. Death should have been the same too. 

Except here he was, staring at the Gojō brat. At least the brat was staring back. 

“So, you’re definitely dead,” Gojō said, eyes wild and uncompromising.

“No shit,” Tōji drawled, leaning back a little. “Those eyes of yours see anything else?”

He shifted. It didn’t matter— he couldn’t touch anything. They’d established that pretty early on, when he’d tried to punch the brat. Hadn’t stuck. Most things didn’t seem to be sticking today. 

Tōji was damn tired of that. 

Gojō hummed, close enough to choke. If only Tōji could have. 

“Yeah, yeah,” and bright eyes narrowed, “I think… yeah that seems right.” 

“Explain, brat.”

“We’re bound at the soul,” Gojō shrugged. “Probably the old fated pairs shit— red string of fate at its finest. Killing you must have messed it up.”

Tōji blinked. 

“What the fuck did you just say.” 

--

“Oh? Did I make you mad?”

“You know,” Tōji said, stepping back, away from Satoru, “I didn’t think I cared where you looked. Who you fucked.”

There was silence after he spoke, the kind that he could taste. Hunting predators had always been the sweetest rush, but here, Tōji didn’t know who was truly prey. 

Damn Satoru for that. 

Satoru turned to look at him, tilting his chin up, head back, exposing the long line of his throat like an offering. Tōji’s teeth ached to bite. 

Satoru smiled. “Yeah? That change?” 

“Not really,” Tōji answered, and it wasn’t even much of a lie. “When I fuck you, I’ll fuck you. That’s all there is to it. But damn,” he murmured, a fire burning through black and empty depths, “it’s pathetic to see you fall for a trap like this, all because of another man you killed.” Tōji sneered. “Gojō Satoru, sealed because you were still looking at him.” 

“And unsealed because you were still looking at me,” Satoru said, light as death. “Aren’t I lucky?”