Sukugo Fic - The Most Twisted Curse Part 5
A seaside trip for the students of Tokyo and Kyoto Jujutsu High.
According to Gojo, it was a "bonding exercise."
According to Principal Gakuganji, it was "an unnecessary expense."
In truth, no one questioned it for very long.
Gojo's students had won the charity football match between Tokyo and Kyoto.
He then promptly announced he would pay for everyone to spend a weekend together in Atami.
Hotel, transport, meals, snacks...Everything!
He had simply shrugged and said, "Money exists to be spent on fun."
So, despite the grumbling from the adults and the barely concealed excitement from the students, both Tokyo and Kyoto found themselves standing beneath a brilliant summer sky, the sea stretching endlessly before them.
*********************************************
The afternoon sun shimmered across Atami Bay. Students raced through the surf, volleyballs flew overhead, and someone had already buried Panda up to his neck in sand.
Gojo stood ankle-deep in the water, trousers rolled to his knees, sleeves pushed to his elbows.
He smiled as Yuji and Nobara splashed each other.
For a little while...
He forgot curses.
He forgot death.
Forgot the impossible future waiting for them all.
"Sensei?"
Yuji jogged over, carrying a beach ball under one arm.
"...Your nose."
Gojo blinked.
"Hm?"
A warm drop rolled over his lip.
Then another.
Blood.
He wiped it away with the back of his hand before anyone else noticed.
"Oh."
He laughed.
"Guess my brain's leaking."
Yuji frowned.
"That's not funny."
"It's just a nosebleed."
Gojo shrugged.
"Dry air."
Yuji looked toward the sea.
"...Maybe you should rest."
Gojo slung an arm around his shoulder.
"And miss seeing you lot wipe out in the waves? Never."
Liar.
Sukuna felt it.
The pressure behind Gojo's eyes.
The pounding in his temples.
The tiny tremors in muscles already exhausted from weeks of pretending.
Gojo smiled anyway.
And he students believed him.
"Sensei!"
Maki called from the water.
"Stop hiding on the shore and swim!"
"Oh?"
Gojo grinned.
"A challenge?"
He kicked off his sandals and ran straight into the surf.
Cheers followed him.
Cold water climbed to his waist.
His chest.
His shoulders.
He dove beneath the waves.
The ocean embraced him.
***********************************************
For one wonderful heartbeat...
Silence.
Weightlessness.
Peace.
Then...
His vision blurred.
A dull ringing spread through his skull.
His heartbeat stumbled.
His limbs stopped obeying him.
...
Satoru.
No answer.
The bond between them grew strangely still.
Like a house whose lights had all gone out.
Reckless.
Sukuna stepped forward.
The body's eyes opened beneath the sea.
Blue.
Then crimson.
A pulse of cursed energy rippled through every muscle.
Water exploded around him as he cut through the waves with terrifying efficiency.
To the students, it looked as though their teacher had decided to race back to shore.
No one realized that Gojo Satoru had lost consciousness.
*********************************************
Hidden behind the rocky cliffs, Sukuna finally allowed himself a long breath.
The world...
Was different.
Because he was seeing through the Six Eyes.
...
For a heartbeat, he almost closed them again.
The light was unbearable.
The sky was no longer blue.
It was a thousand shades layered atop one another, rippling through the air like luminous rivers.
The sea wasn't water.
It was countless droplets, each reflecting the sun at a different angle.
Every grain of sand possessed shape.
Weight.
Texture.
The horizon bent with heat.
The wind had hues.
The world was drowning in information.
His hearing sharpened until individual conversations from the beach separated into perfect clarity.
Laughter.
Footsteps.
Heartbeats.
The wings of distant seabirds.
The tide scraping against stone.
His skin registered every shift in temperature, every thread of sea breeze, every bead of water rolling down his neck.
...
How...
His own voice sounded strangely small.
...have you endured this?
To exist every waking moment beneath such relentless perception...
To carry a universe inside one's eyes...
Madness.
Pure madness.
And yet...
Gojo laughed.
Every single day.
**********************************************
The changing room stood empty.
A single mirror reflected the man before it.
Sukuna looked up.
For the first time...
Nothing stood between himself and the vessel.
No shared perspective.
No borrowed glimpse.
Only direct sight.
White hair still damp from the ocean.
Broad shoulders.
Long limbs.
Saltwater glistening against pale skin.
Bruises revealed beneath summer sunlight.
Signs of a reckless kind of courage.
He studied the reflection in silence.
So this is the strongest.
Not invincible.
Simply unyielding.
The corners of his mouth twitched.
I have worn the bodies of kings.
His fingers rose.
Resting lightly against Gojo's own cheek.
Warm.
Soft.
His thumb traced the line beneath one brilliant eye.
Yet none possessed eyes worthy of envy.
The Six Eyes.
A divine blessing.
A merciless curse.
The very heavens had carved perfection into this body.
...Magnificent.
The word escaped before he could recall it.
Everything about this vessel was excessive.
Strength.
Sight.
Will.
Compassion.
Even suffering.
Everything had been granted in impossible measure.
His thumb moved lower.
Tracing the curve of Gojo's mouth.
The full lower lip. The corner where that infuriating smile seemed to live.
His thumb lingered there.
Barely brushing.
...So this is what it feels like.
He had known these lips from within.
He had felt them laugh until the body shook.
Felt them press into a thin line after nightmares.
Felt them whisper into the darkness, speaking to himself when no one else could hear.
Yet he had never felt their shape like this.
Until now.
*********************************************
His hand drifted to the throat.
He tilted the head back slowly.
The long line of the neck exposed.
That strong, elegant column.
Sukuna traced the length of it with two fingers, unhurried, feeling the warmth of living skin under his touch.
The pulse quickens under his fingertips and something lurched in him...low, unfamiliar.
...Alive.
A soft sound left him.
His palm spread flat against the chest.
Heat greeted him instantly.
Beneath his hand, the muscles shifted with every breath, every heartbeat answering against his skin.
How many months had he existed inside this rhythm?
How many times had he mistaken it for his own?
But there was a distance.
A beautiful distance.
He could feel that boundary.
And he hated how much he wanted to erase it.
*************************************************
His hand moved lower.
The stomach. Taut, warm.
He traced the defined muscle slowly, learning each line.
He felt the body respond to the contact. The slight tension.
The warmth pooling low, rousing the body.
His warmth.
Sukuna's.
The thought struck with startling force, and the wanting that rose in him was enormous and helpless and entirely new.
His finger found the small dent of the navel.
Traced around it. Excruciatingly slow.
This, he thought. This hunger...
I want.
I want.
I want him.
He had never wanted without immediately taking.
He had never had to.
Sukuna stood in it now.
The wanting with nowhere to go, the heat with nothing to answer it...
Outside, voices drifted closer.
"Sensei?"
"Gojo-sensei!"
"Where did he go?"
Sukuna withdrew instantly.
The hand dropped and the warmth receded and he was back where he always was.
Inside.
Unreachable.
...Persistent children.
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