one second he was fighting a curse, and the next, he was at the gojo residence. and he’s 99% certain that he didn’t somehow accidentally teleport.

he shrugs it off, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he begins to walk through the gardens.

must be a dream, he thinks to himself.

a hyper-realistic dream because when he breathes in, he smells the familiar incense that could somehow always be smelled from outside. and a shadow flies over him which he automatically assumes is a grey heron.

what really makes it confusingly realistic is his favourite ball from when he was a child bouncing into view. he instinctively catches it and holds it under his foot.

then, satoru comes running into view-- wait…

he has to stop himself from yelling, his mouth falling open the widest it’s ever been as he stares at himself. just smaller. shorter. so young. no older than eight years old.

he laughs to himself, unnerved. “this really must be a dream.”

the younger version of himself crouches down to pick up the ball from under his foot and he lets him take it.

it’s like the sky reflected onto water when his eyes meet his own. on a face smaller than his, but still his. he feels like he truly is staring into the eyes of his eight-year-old self. a half-pout, half-scowl on his younger version’s mouth.

“watcha doin’, little ‘toru?” he asks, squatting down to his level.

“wouldn’t you like to know?” the smaller version shoots back, looking at the older satoru with caution. he can only guess it’s because they look the exact same. well, they are the same.

satoru pauses and blinks before breaking into laughter. what a stuck-up brat he used to be.

“well then, let me skip inside and let the elders know you’re neglecting your duties,” he says teasingly. a joke. he would never take away his younger self’s childhood even if it was just a dream.

but he immediately regrets making that joke when the little scowl disappears and a sulk takes over. snowy eyebrows knit together in slight panic. bright, blue eyes swirling with a plea before his gaze downcasts, cheeks drooping sadly.

something in satoru’s heart aches. feeling the distress of being a child who could never truly be a child all over again. something that reverse cursed technique could never heal.

“i’m kidding, buddy. play all you want.” satoru stands back up, reaching out to ruffle his little self’s hair who shakes his hand off and draws back. “just… hang in there, alright? everything’s gonna be okay, i promise,” he whispers, something broken in his voice.

satoru feels stinging behind his eyes, threatening to spill years of a stolen childhood and a burden that only the strongest could carry.

the younger version of him tilts his head at the taller man - the same way he tilts his head to this very day when he’s confused.

“old man… why are you crying?”

“did you just call me old, you br-- wait, what?” satoru says, reaching up to touch his own cheek. he, in fact, does feel salty moisture rolling down the curve of his cheek. “oh… uh, that’s um allergies. yeah, allergies”

but little him scrutinises him like he doesn’t believe his older self. but before he can say anything else, an elder’s voice calls for him from inside, most likely for training.

all satoru hears is a mumbled “weirdo” before his younger self scurries away with a pout tugging at his mouth. and he can’t help but let out a wet chuckle, wiping his face with the heel of his palm.

he watches him go, leaning against the wall with a soft smile touching his lips.

“everything’s okay,” he murmurs to himself under his breath. a sense of peace settling within him.

after wandering around for a while longer, hiding from clan members because something tugs at his gut that this isn’t a dream, he’s suddenly warped back to the abandoned lab where he was dealing with the curse. said curse nowhere to be seen because he had exorcised it before whatever the hell just happened.

he heaves out a breath before immediately teleporting home. to his home. you.

he’s wrapping himself around you from behind, slumping against you and burying his face into the side of your neck.

“my love?” you say softly, surprised and confused but not resisting. you rest a hand on his arm that’s looped around your stomach, brushing your thumb back and forth. “what happened?”

moisture patters against your neck and you freeze, but you don’t force him to speak or lift his head. you let him hold you. let him breathe you in shakily.

“… i love you so much,” he finally murmurs, lips moving against your neck like he’s trying to etch the words into your skin. “i love you. thank you for loving me. fuck, what did i do to deserve you?” he whispers the last part to himself, in disbelief.

“satoru,” you say a bit more firmly this time. hearing him self-deprecate always caused your heart to twist. it made you want to undo the years of trauma that he never deserved. “what’s going on? was your mission okay?”

he laughs softly, then nods. “would you believe me if i said that i think i time-travelled to the past? like, twenty years back.”

“… did you knock your head against something? should we get you to shoko?”

satoru laughs again, louder this time, heartier. he lifts his head from your neck, his face blotchy with stained tears, eyes twinkling with amusement rather than tears now.

“i’m okay, i promise. more than okay. life is perfect,” he grins, feeling ever so thankful for how his life turned out. thankful for you.

a/n: my baby :((

and by the third time they pass by, satoru's throwing a cheesy "what a coincidence - we meet again," passing you a charming smile and resting his arm on the back of your seat like he doesn't have a job to do.

he also gives you an extra dessert but in the middle of charming you with his devilishly handsome looks and smooth pick up lines (his own words), a lady sitting in the row next to yours clears her throat.

"excuse me, i had requested a vegetarian meal from the airline but i was given--"

and you haven't seen anyone eye someone down in such a judgemental manner the way satoru eyed the lady for interrupting him.

"i'm in the middle of talking to a beautiful woman. i think we know what's more important here."

he flutters his eyelashes purposefully, tilting his head towards her. the woman was enchanted despite his sass. those baby blues cradled by snow always had him getting his way.

"anyway, as i was saying."