⸨ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔.

Six Eyes seemed to be the only working ability he had in his arsenal, and he couldn't even see his surroundings within the abyss, couldn't even make out any details on the corpses clawing at him -- he could only see beyond, when he focused to a strenuous extent, like now.

The familiarity that struck him through the haze surrounding Suguru's tear-stained cheeks made him want to cry, too. He was back at that house he got so many years ago for their private meetings, the little home he had once daydreamed about hiding away within whenever the world got to be too much, but he never did fully pull away ---- never could detach himself from the Jujutsu world that placed him on that pedestal. Maybe Suguru resented him for that, or maybe Suguru fell out of love with him over those trickling visits that lessened in frequency.

Safe to say that Satoru automatically blamed himself for not being enough ---- but they never discussed it, not really, and by the time Suguru showed up with that sinister smile so unlike the one Satoru once cherished so much, declaring war, goading his students with insults and malice... yeah, it'd been too late for discussions by then.

Seeing Suguru cry, break down -- oh, it hurt his heart worse than whatever was shredding into him at the moment. Hurt to know that he couldn't reach out to him and comfort him during one of the very few times he actively showcased his need for comfort, as desperate as Satoru had been to make Suguru laugh and to make him feel safe and wanted and loved ---- it hadn't been enough, and now with the chance to give him all of that again? He was trapped in this fucking box.

But enough wallowing. He needed to fortify himself, to stop reeling in the hurt -- he needed to be strong, even whilst heartbroken relief flooded into his system with Suguru's tearful promise. Suguru, his Suguru, back from the dead, back for him, telling him to hold on ---- oh, he'd move mountains if Suguru asked him to, even now, he'd find a way to do it.

"-- can you make this thing shake once for ‘yes’, and twice for ‘no’ --"

Alright, he could do that. A quick pulse of his focus, the eyes of the Prison Realm shaking alongside the structure itself -- one. Just to confirm he could, in fact, answer properly. 'Yes.'

Their first contact.

Now for the first official yes-no question ---- ...ah, the Prison Realm wasn't something he knew much about, but he had read about it whilst researching other Cursed Objects akin to the Inverted Spear of Heaven. Some years ago, though, so suffice to say he had little knowledge on it aside from the fact that he could surmise, from his experience thus far, that it was not killing him -- it was merely containing him, churning through him to keep him from breaking free, keeping him suspended in a state of dying as some sick form of punishment ---- purgatory-esque, unrelenting till the end of time.

There was no sense of time in here, but from his connection to Suguru he could guess that he wasn't trapped within this realm for longer than a few days, if anything. And that fucked with him, honestly, because his perception felt stretched long across multiple months by now, a solid sensation of timeloss manipulating his concept of anything.

He forced through a pulse to answer Suguru's query with a reluctant, one -- two. An unfortunate 'no.' Blood splattered and his focus wavered half a second's worth before he returned to the hazy surroundings that fit around Suguru's head akin to a halo.

This wasn't enough. Consider him impatient -- and with a plethora of knowledge at his fingertips, Satoru proceeded to force out several more pulses ---- Morse code.

.- .-. . / -.-- --- ..- / --- -.- .- -.-- ..--.. ?

'Are you okay?'

Are you safe? He repeated the series of vibrations again, in case Suguru wasn't paying close attention -- or in case the Morse code wasn't something he immediately thought of when feeling the timed pulses of the Prison Realm within his hand.

Then, with less energy in his throbbing eyes to push forth, Satoru specified what he couldn't quite word -- avoiding elaborate sentence structures and words he couldn't think of at the moment. To be easier on himself -- and Suguru, if he happened to be a rookie. Who knew.

.... . .- -.. ..--..

'head.'

He couldn’t help but wonder: did those eyes truly represent Satoru’s?  Was he looking around at Suguru’s surroundings, trying to figure out where he was?  Oh, Satoru … where else would he have been, if not in the place that reminded him most of you?

Suguru found himself looking around the abandoned home, as well —- wanting to be closer to the other, to see through his eyes; to know what Satoru was thinking.  Suguru had only seen the ugliness of this world —- had only felt shame and disgust towards himself, at the very end of it all. But Satoru … his Satoru, the strongest sorcerer of the modern age … Satoru had always seen so much more than Suguru ever could, or ever thought himself capable of. 

This akiya, too, had seen it all —- the countless arguments, the angry tears and physical altercations when the frustration over Suguru’s defection and lack of communication got to be too much … the agony surrounding the cult leader’s lack of care around his mental and emotional well-being, and his new, chosen family’s encouragement of that pain, as if they didn’t see it for what it had been —- a cry for help, unheard and left to fester and die alongside whatever remained of Suguru’s morality, his ability to trust…

It hadn’t all been bad, though —- there had still been love here; a softness that remained despite everything they had been through, both separately and together.  A familiarity that spanned countless lifetimes.  He had picked up Satoru’s pieces here, in this very bed, and put him back together when the world had become too much … too loud, too violent, too demanding of him.  Gentle hands had cradled his face, Suguru’s touch quiet, reverent, as he traced along the edges of Satoru’s features, offering as much comfort and tenderness as he could whilst the other’s chronic migraines felt him vulnerable and aching.

A fond memory, that was.  When they had let each other in … when they allowed themselves a moment of vulnerability, of trust in the other to keep them warm, and safe.

Hope had begun to nestle itself within the sinewy muscles of Suguru’s chest. Tendrils of longing and anticipation and despair and want, so much want it made Suguru feel crazy, wrapped tightly around his ribcage —- around his very heart, and squeezed.  While Satoru wasn’t there in a physical sense to wipe away Suguru’s tears and offer comfort while his defenses were down, Suguru could still feel him, all the same.  And there was comfort in knowing that the six eyes were still present —- ever-watchful of his movements, as always.

Suguru had always felt stripped bare underneath Satoru’s gaze.  It was as though Satoru saw the very fibers of his being —- his wants and desires, his fears … the night terrors that kept him away from Jujutsu Tech; from a world that terrified him —- that drove him utterly mad, in the end.  Satoru had always seen the very heart and soul of Geto Suguru, hadn’t he?  All that made him who he was, who he had been … and yet Suguru had knocked on death’s door with the preconceived notion that Satoru hated him for who he had become.  That there was only room in his best friend’s heart for disgust over what Suguru had done to that village —- to his own parents.  Much less everything else that had transpired over those ten long years.

What an idiot he had been.

From the two quick pulses of the prison realm in his hands, Suguru could surmise that Satoru also didn’t have a clue about what this cursed object truly was.  It was disappointing, knowing that somehow, such a special-grade weapon had made it past the both of them.  Suguru didn’t have access to the library at Jujutsu Tech anymore, much less Kenjaku’s vast knowledge and understanding of the world at large.  He couldn’t feel him, at least … though the fear that he could come back whenever he so desired was enough to make Suguru reluctant to get any sort of rest.

He found himself wondering what he could possibly ask next that could be answered in a mere yes or no.  Suguru’s grip on the object tightened as he began to overthink it all, caught up on each and every possibility.  It was as if Satoru had picked up on his hesitance, though —- even from some other dimension or plane of existence, Satoru saw him; knew him all too well —- for the object began to sputter and shake, vibrations succinct, punctuated by brief pauses, as if he was somehow speaking through the cursed object.

Suguru’s brows knitted together in confusion and surprise as he attempted to make sense of it. It almost felt like…

…some sort of code, maybe?

❝ Satoru, what— ❞

Suguru’s train of thought was cut off as he realized that the series of initial vibrations were becoming repetitive.  Was Satoru attempting to speak to him in…

❝ ---Morse code? Fuck, you’re brilliant, ❞  he couldn’t help but let out an exasperated laugh as the realization hit.  Suguru wasn’t well versed in morse code, but he was familiar enough to make the connection. He quickly began searching for some way to decipher the messages on the phone Larue had provided him with.

❝ Try again, ‘toru, ❞  Suguru encouraged, ready to record the other’s message so he could determine what the other was saying.

When he finally figured it out, Suguru’s gaze softened … as if Satoru was looking at him, somehow.  He was always looking at him, wasn’t he?  Cutting through his defenses … it felt like his heart was in his throat as he attempted to swallow around it, emotions getting the better of him. 

❝ …You’re trapped in some other dimension because of me, and you’re worried about my safety? ❞  His voice was as tender as it was quiet, a hushed sound that pulled at the empty spaces between them. ❝ I’m okay … I’m safe. I’m more worried about what you might be going through in there … or wherever you are. ❞

When that last word came through, Suguru closed his eyes.

❝ I … I don’t know. It’s frustrating how much I don’t know.  I think he’s gone, but I don’t trust that it’s over.  That he won’t come back at some inopportune time. He knows everything about me, though —- he somehow had access to my cursed technique, my memories … but I can’t recall anything that’s happened since he took over.  I wish I could, because maybe then I’d know how to free you. ❞

Silence hung heavy, punctuating the weight of the moment between them from worlds divided. Suguru took a moment to think —- to breathe through the onslaught of emotions coursing through him.  Everything felt so blinding and foreign, as if he were looking through eyes that weren’t his; not anymore. A disconnect between tendons and bones, an inability to walk —- to move.  Everything felt so wrong, so painfully wrong—-

Suguru swallowed roughly, before continuing.

❝ —-I reached out to Shoko, but the soonest she can meet is tomorrow night.  Or … later tonight? It’s been about … six hours or so since you got locked in there, but the devastation is pretty horrific.  I’d imagine she’s got a lot to handle right now. ❞

Suddenly, the question Suguru asked earlier had dozens, hundreds, millions of answers; what did you imagine being if you never became a Sorcerer? Oh, anything if it's with you -- anything that involved Suguru, too. Maybe he'd be a librarian or go into something that involved sciences, maybe he'd try out archery and enter those big tournaments, or he could be a pilot, a racecar driver, an astronaut, a teacher ---- anything and everything if it meant Suguru was somewhere in the picture with him.

They kissed again, shorter this time -- a light brush of Suguru's lips to his own and Satoru was shameless in leaning forward subtly to chase after him when he pulled back. After what felt like a millennia... Satoru finally took in one breath a little quick, sucking it in when Suguru reached up to nudge his sunglasses back from slipping off his nose. He couldn't help it, Suguru saying that little promise so casually had his heart doing a bit of a pinball impression around his insides.

With the grace of a newborn deer he stumbled alongside Suguru at the snatching of his hand, wobbly legs still caught somewhere behind them in that alleyway with the rest of him ---- but that's right, they were supposed to be grabbing boba right now, and even in his kissed-stupid state he was lucid enough, or perhaps still motivated enough by the promise of a sweet treat, that he eventually got his shit together to walk a little less like he was drunk. He steadied out his pacing to level himself at Suguru's side after a bit of a lag on his part causing Suguru to essentially drag him along those first few awkward paces as Satoru's brain stumbled to catch up. He was good now, he was peachy keen.

❝ -- right, um, it's the Alpaca T-- yeah, that way, you got it. ❞ He coughed to clear his throat, to snap himself out of it. Suguru's hand was so warm. He remembered his mother's assistant curling her index and middle finger for him to hold his whole hand onto, walking through the snow in Kyoto, and she hadn't been warm despite her smiles and gestures ---- the insistence of referring to him as Gojo-sama whilst he still needed help not slipping on the icy path hadn't felt very warm. The absence of his mother hadn't helped, sending him off with glorified babysitters who didn't know how to handle him without either coddling him too much or treating him like he wasn't quite human. Come to think of it, the memory was well-suited for this moment; that was the last time he held someone's hand.

Satoru didn't pull away, squeezing lightly, curling his fingers to lock between Suguru's own -- hesitant, but not out of shyness. He was curious, he was exploratory. He wasn't sure if Suguru wanted to drop his hand as they entered the boba shop, so he preemptively slackened his hold a breath's worth in case Suguru decided he preferred to let go -- or if he needed both hands. Unclear.

He ordered his drink whilst trying to hide the flush from his face, looking off toward the menu to avoid eye contact with the cashier with a racing heart because -- well, Suguru hadn't let go after all. And now, for the first time in a long time despite being so accustomed to it, seeing a stranger's eyes on him felt invasive. Not enough to upset him, but definitely enough for him to fluster ---- the way he could see how she darted a look at them both and, fuck, looked amused or something? He didn't look long enough to figure that emotion out, quick to read the entirety of the menu with a few averted glances its way, counting the 23 different versions of a cartoon alpaca mascot plastered throughout the cute little shop.

Satoru ended up going for the brown sugar -- the oreo-inspired one looked good too, but he forgot how to talk and forgot that the option existed when he ordered, so that was that.

Their drinks came out relatively fast, and he tapped the end of the wrapped straw against the counter to break the sharpened slanted edge of it out, then stabbed it a little enthusiastically into his drink's colorful film lid. Their hands remained locked together ---- and if Suguru pulled away to tend to his own drink with two hands, then Satoru was ready to snatch the straw away and do it for him one-handed as a flex. They were stuck together now. No escape.

He leaned his side against the door to push it open for himself and Suguru, lifting his boba up to take that first tentative sip. The immediate smile and bigger gulp right after was Satoru's stamp of approval, but he went ahead and verbalized it too to be thorough.

❝ -- ohhh, this is good, so fresh -- we have to come back here. Here, try ---- ❞ out went his boba toward Suguru, poised so that the other could steal a sip -- things that felt natural even before they shared saliva via a kiss; this. But now he couldn't help but crinkle his nose with a bigger smile, like some puzzle piece slotting into place -- truthfully, they had always been intimate like that, hadn't they? They finally just... made it official.

Satoru's heart felt full. He was on top of the world.

Their friendship had always felt easy to Suguru, much like breathing. That first stretch upon waking up, a slow and steady intake of air as consciousness stirred. Satoru was the exhaled laughter, after holding one's breath, unknowingly —- that moment of relief, of letting go. Being in his presence was ... freeing. Grounding, in a sense, for the young sorcerer.

Satoru was his best friend, yes ... but he was also so much more than that. It almost felt silly, attempting to put a label on what they were to each other. Suguru felt that invisible red string, binding them to one another beyond any real understanding of how it had gotten there, or what it all meant. They made each other better ... —- stronger.

Life finally felt bearable, when in the presence of the other.

Suguru cast a quick glance at the boy beside him, tossing an easy smile his way before opening the door of the tea house. He felt Satoru slacken his hold on Suguru's fingers, though he was having none of it —- Suguru's grip only tightened, not wanting to be parted from him just yet. And while Satoru was eager to avoid the cashier's curious gaze, Suguru found himself welcoming it —- a flare of possessiveness; a way of saying that Satoru was his, without ever needing to actually speak it into existence.

The menu was a quick study; Suguru fell into step with Satoru, ordering a familiar flavor ( oolong tea with a hint of peach ) and skipping out on most of the sugary inclusions. Suguru didn't have a sweet tooth like Satoru, and typically avoided the confectionary items in Satoru's diet —- though it was always amusing to watch Satoru eat his fill of them.

When their drinks were finally ready, Suguru unwrapped his straw with his free hand, and then brought their joined hands up towards the counter. He only moved his thumb and index finger away from Satoru's, in favor of holding his drink down whilst he stabbed through the thin plastic lid with his straw. He couldn't help but chuckle as he then brought the drink up to his lips, pulling that first sip up through the straw and into his mouth.

Clearly Satoru was enjoying his choice of bubble tea, his smile a dead giveaway, along with his adorable little hum of approval as he took another gulp. Fuck, he was so cute —- Suguru couldn't take his eyes off of him, even as Satoru pushed his way through the door and led them back towards the main intersection of Shibuya.

Suguru took that sip, so eagerly offered to him —- held the milky brown sugar concoction in his mouth before swallowing, his teeth toying with one of the tapioca pearls left behind. ❝ Mmm, it's good, ❞ he replied with a nod, before going back to his own drink. He knew better than to offer Satoru a sip of his unsweetened beverage, though he would certainly entertain the other's desires if he felt so inclined to try it.

At the mention of extending their time together once they returned to Jujutsu Tech, Suguru couldn't help but smile. Fuck, would he ever stop smiling?? His face was starting to hurt from the constant stretch. Suguru was so far from being tired that it would be a miracle if he slept at all tonight. ❝ All of that sounds good to me, ❞ he replied, before slightly adjusting his backpack.

Aftercare

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