Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Hey, Satoru," Geto mumbled, slumped against one of the many empty desks, a hand over his eyes to shade them from the morning sun.

Gojo sits up from his spot on the floor, head lazily dropping to one side. "Hm?"

He stares at the lanky idiot for a moment, forgetting what he was going to say. The heat of the sun makes him feel hazy, but it's enough to jog his memory and remind him. "While we're waiting on Mei Mei and Utahime, we should go find something to do."

"No shit. The problem is...what?" Gojo stands up with a grunt and squishes his face against the windows, looking around for something that piques his interest. "The gym is probably air-conditioned, right?" He grins and whips around, sweaty handprints on the glass. "Suguru, let's have a competition. The loser has to pay for ice cream."

Geto yawns and pushes himself up from the floor, quirking a brow. "Depends, what kind of competition are we talking about?"

"You'll see."

The gym is cold as Gojo presumed. The buzzing lights above are offputting, but the air is so nice neither of them can be bothered to care. The building echoes with every thump from a basketball.

Geto sighs dramatically, shoulders hung with disappointment. "This is the best you could come up with?"

"Get over it, Suguru. If you have a better idea, I'm all ears." Gojo flicks his forehead and chest-passes the ball to him, flinging his arms out in defense. "You gonna' play or not?" Annoying. For a second year, he didn't seem to have many manners or any humane qualities.

Geto was unsure if his degrading words towards others were intentional, or if he really had no clue how wrong his words were. "Fine. But I won't hesitate to leave if you even think about twisting any rules."

All he does is shrug in response, waggling his index in his direction, egging him on. "No more talking, get moving," Suguru swears Gojo was pouting. He didn't mind his antics most times, but other times, it was baffling. He knew he had potential. He was a goofball, but he wasn't stupid.

"Alright, no mercy, ya' hear?" He dribbles the ball and takes a step forward, encroaching on Shades.

"Loud and clear, Crazy Bangs." Satoru chuckles and slides a foot forward, an arm outstretching quickly to smack the ball away.

Geto swings around and avoids the obvious attempt, but Gojo is quicker and dashes right behind him, finessing the ball in such a way that it bounces right between Suguru's legs and into Gojo's hands.

Before Geto can react, Gojo is halfway across the court with a shit-eating grin on his face. He stands there just to watch Suguru's jaw drop but doesn't think to make any move. Because of his ignorance, Geto gets back at him and snatches it right from his hands, dribbling down the court. "You had a six-second opening and didn't take it, I'm surprised. Aren't you supposed to be the best? The strongest?"

Gojo is seething. He pushes forward and races over to jump in front of Suguru, spiking the basketball like one might in a game of volleyball. "You had approximately eight seconds of an opening to make a shot. Now there's 20 seconds on the clock." There's no amusement in his voice like before. Behind his shades, his brows are furrowed, and his teeth are clenched harshly, his jaw quivering with the pressure. Gaze still trained on Geto, he tosses the ball up, and it sinks right into the net.

The buzzer whirs loudly between the tension, but Geto's thoughts drown it out. Was it something he said or did? What could have roused such a change in demeanor? Whatever that was, was not his best friend.

The doors from across the gym screech as they're pushed open, slamming behind whoever had walked in. "So this is where you two have been hiding, huh?" Shoko mumbles offhandedly, raising two popsicles. "Since it was so hot out today, I got you guys something to keep those temperatures down. And temperments. She motions outside with a flick of her head, her lips curving into a small smile. "Come on out, I found a nice spot with hella shade."

Suguru slowly looks back at Satoru, whose eyes are a little wide. Whatever had transpired between them, would likely stay between them. "I guess that solves that problem," He huffs, slicking back a strand of hair with his palm.

"Huh?" Shoko chimes, halfway out the door.

Gojo throws an arm around Geto's neck, a thumbs up raised high with the other. "Me and Suguru were competing! The loser was going to buy ice cream, but you came along!" Fickle. Why was he so fickle?

Shoko grimaces and shakes her head. "Suguru and I." She corrects.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." Gojo rolls his eyes in a joking manner. Was he that good at putting on a facade, or did he truly not comprehend what he had said and done? Geto doesn't remember anything remotely close to this ever happening before. Maybe Suguru was the one with a screw loose.

Shoko shows them to a small wall lining the path by one of the creeks around Jujutsu High. She points to the one spot where trees sat overhead, not quite blocking out the sun or view, but providing shade nonetheless. "This is probably the quietest spot on the whole property too." She sits down on the ledge, holding out the two popsicles.

Geto grabs both and hands one to Gojo, pushing him to sit down with an elbow on his shoulder. "How long has it been since Mei Mei and Utahime left?" Satoru murmurs, biting the frozen treat down the stick.

"13 hours, including the length of travel." Grumbles a deep voice from behind them.

Gojo jumps, and Geto has to grab the back of his shirt collar so he doesn't fall into the creek. "When the hell did you get here?" He snaps, chomping on the rest of the popsicle and jabbing the stick into Yaga's chest.

Yaga exhales loudly, taking hold of the stick and throwing it behind him. "A minute or so ago. I'm disappointed, Satoru, your senses are supposed to be the most sharpened out of this whole school." It's hard to read his expression, his eyes hidden behind the tinted glasses he was seldom seen without, much like Satoru. "Either way, if they aren't back tomorrow, I want the three of you to go check on them."

Shoko and Geto look over Gojo's shoulders at each other in an affirmative nod. Gojo doesn't move and just huffs, waving a hand dismissively.

Yaga clicks his tongue and walks away, leaving the three in an awkward silence.

"That is kind of odd, Satoru," Geto hums softly, laying back with his head on his arms.

Shoko puts her elbow on her knee and rests her cheek on her fist, chewing on her tongue before adding, "Yeah, you've been known as the greatest ever since you came around. Maybe you need to take a break, you seem tired."

Satoru shrugs subtly, his eyes trailing off to the mesmerizing blue sky. They sit quietly together for a while, Suguru dropping his stick into the creek at one point. When clouds start rolling in and paint the sky grey, Gojo speaks up. "Ya' know, it's crazy that it's legal for kids to become sorcerers. How isn't that child labor? I mean, there should be some rules about that, right? It's not as though I knew or understood what I was signing up for! I was just..." He stops, looking down at their quizzical expressions. "...born." His intrigued smile drops and contorts to something of hurt.

"What are you talking about, Satoru?" Suguru sits up and glances at Shoko, then Gojo, then Shoko, and Gojo again. "You said you came here when you were 15."

With her head hung low and eyes wide as she tries to put together the information into one conclusion, Shoko opens and closes her mouth, at a loss for words. "What are you talking about?" It's hardly directed at Gojo and more to her as a way of thinking.

Lip trembling just barely, Gojo responds in a whisper. "No...I started going out on real missions when I was 15. But..." He glares, but it's fleeting and eases into a look of pure disbelief and betrayal. "You guys haven't always been sorcerers?"

"No, Satoru. We used to go to school like normal kids. People on the inside—like sports scouts—offered to enroll us here." Shoko explains, pinching Geto's sleeve, and tugging on it.

Suguru puts his hand over Shoko's and squeezes it. "Gojo." Geto murmurs, cautiously placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. He jumps, startled by the shift in name base. "Please, tell me you haven't lived here your whole life? That you had some form of a childhood?"

He shakes his head carefully, looking unbelievably hurt by their words. "You guys are lying, aren't you? This is just some kind of sick joke? Is this you getting back at me for my behavior and bad jokes?" He looks down at where Suguru has his hand and swallows thickly. "Well, it's not funny." He laughs dryly, a laugh that sounds choked and strained.

Shoko gets up to sit by Satoru's other side, hand resting on his other shoulder. "We're being serious. When we arrived, it was genuinely our first time here, or anywhere related to sorcery."

"So it's true,"

Suguru and Shoko broke at the pitch and tone of his voice.

"I've been used my whole life," He shivers and shies away from either's touch. "I could've meant something to someone. I could've enjoyed living a life away from cursed spirits." His once striking blue eyes dull and fill with tears, and he bites back a sob. "Stop messing around!" He shouts, hands rolling into tight fists around his knees. "Look me in my stupid Six Eyes and tell me I meant something to someone! That I haven't always been a weapon for someone!"

The two flinch at his outburst, unsure of how to respond. "Satoru," Suguru begins, quietly, gently. "We can't tell you that. It'd just be a lie. If you've been working as a sorcerer, pressured into aiding with someone else's bidding since you were born, then we can't assure you that."

Shoko reaches over and gingerly removes his shades, wiping his eyes with her thumb. "You'll always mean something to us. Even if that doesn't mean a lot to you, you've certainly impacted our lives."

"Even so, that's...not fair. Why did I never have a choice?" After that, the tears don't stop. "I didn't care for a normal life before, but now I've never wanted it so bad." He lurches with a whimper, hands sliding up to grasp on soft tufts of white hair. "Am I always going to be someone's trump card?" Breathing starts to become something of a task, and also painful. "Deep down I think I always knew the way my parents taught me wasn't standard, but I didn't think it was wrong before."

Suguru takes Gojo's glasses from Shoko's hands and folds them up, setting them to the side. He wraps one arm around his neck and the other around his back. "You have free will, Satoru. You don't have to listen to those stuck-up higher-ups."

Gojo weeps into Geto's shoulder, blindly searching for Shoko. Once he makes contact with her, he ropes her in and hugs her tight, unyielding. "I...can't. I have to be the strongest. I can't be anything but. The world will perish if I neglect my purpose."

"Who told you that? The clan?" Shoko murmurs quietly, pulling his hand away from his head. "The world doesn't need 'The Strongest'. The world just needs Satoru.

Chuckling, Geto pats the lanky mess's back. "We need Satoru. Who else am I going to argue with and then go out for ice cream together the next day? You're a key factor in the eradication of curses and the safety of civilians, sure, but you can always make time to do leisurely activities."

"...Right," Satoru whispers, sniffling quietly and roughly wiping his eyes. He groans and massages his head. "I think I need to lie down." He rasps, brow knitting tightly together. "Does anyone have something to blind me with?"

Suguru shrugs off his uniform jacket and folds it up, haphazardly dropping it over Satoru's face after Shoko lays him down. He waits a minute, and before long, he's out like a light. "All those tears and the addition of his exposed eyes totally knocked him out."

Shoko scoffs, setting herself down to lay beside him as well. "I'm jealous, I can never go to sleep so easily." Her expression softens though, as she looks down at Gojo. "Rest easy, 'Weapon of Mass Destruction', we're not going anywhere."

Even as the sky began to grow darker, Suguru stayed awake, eventually dragging them off to their respective rooms when it started to rain. He set Satoru's shades on his nightstand and left his jacket wound around his head. "Not even the strongest can resist the pressure of humane emotion."

Funny, isn't it?

Chapter Text

It's 5 AM sharp when Yaga gets up to start his day. The sky is still dark, courtesy of last night's thunderstorm which left a blanket of fog sweeping throughout the campus. Doors are left ajar, pushed open in a hurry as students go off to do their own thing. One thing he wasn't anticipating was finding Satoru still in bed, arms up as he brought them close and back again, testing what he assumed was the opacity of his glasses. That wasn't exactly the weird part, though. The boy hardly ever slept, his mind and eyes restless no matter what.

He knocks on the door once and pushes it all the way open, leaning against the doorframe. "Aren't you supposed to be assisting in locating Mei Mei and Utahime with Shoko and Suguru?"

Gojo is silent and still until his mouth opens as he searches for words. Eventually, he settles for; "They left?" He rolls on his side and sits up on the edge of the bed, rubbing the spot between his eyes. His throat vibrates with a groan, whose source could not be traced back to one specific cause.

"Yes, Satoru. I would not have brought it to your attention, otherwise." Yaga shuts the door behind him and pulls a chair over to the boy's bedside. "Did you see them get up at all?"

Gojo sighs and scratches his brow, looking up at the ceiling. He's never been so distant. "The last thing I remember seeing was the clouds outside. I don't remember walking myself to bed." He smooths out the sheets below him, fingers delicately tracing the seams and loose threads. "Did you need something, Yaga?" He mumbles, blue eyes never having looked so awful.

"Just curious as to why you hadn't left with the others, is all." Yaga smoothes his hand up his hair, scratching the base of his neck. "Just swing by if you need anything. Until those two get back, you must stay on campus, understood? You're far too valuable to lose to tomfoolery."

Yaga pretends he doesn't notice the look of distraught on his face as he leaves. The scene conveniently reminds him of his strange behavior the day before as well.

The day progresses slowly as he passes on reports to the higher-ups, refills his coffee, tinkers with cursed corpses, and (he'll never admit it out loud) discreetly checks on Satoru. Each time, the kid is curled up on his bed, his phone screen glaring at his sensitive eyes. Yaga couldn't help but wonder what on earth was so important that he would risk a migraine for.

"Yaga-Sensei!"

Yaga turns around to find Shoko, Suguru, Utahime, and Mei Mei trailing behind them. She's got a report in her hands.

"It was more difficult to understand than it was to defeat. This particular cursed spirit messed with time, so we were gone longer than we'd hoped." Mei Mei explains, patting Yaga's shoulder as she steps past. "I tried to make it as simple as possible, but those higher-ups are like English teachers, analyzing every little word."

Suguru peaks into the room on the left, coming up to Yaga to murmur in his ear. "Satoru has been rather exerted, so we thought it best to let him sleep in. You know, in case you were wondering." He shrugs, continuing down the hall with Shoko and Utahime.

"Suguru." He says, holding a hand out.

Geto turns his chin over his shoulder. "Yes, sir?"

"You made the right call," He smiles a real smile, not his usual condescending smirk. "You're a good friend, Suguru Geto." He doesn't miss how the kid's shoulders lift and his steps seem lighter. Once the hall is empty, Yaga checks on Satoru a final time before dropping off the report by the higher-ups. Throughout the day, things remain peaceful and quiet, with only the occasional outburst from some of the first years that he can't remember the names of.

It's the afternoon when Yaga decides he needs to take a break from caffeine and work. He had a good feeling that the majority of students were acting responsibly and working with each other to better themselves in every category possible, but he also had a feeling that one of them was right where he'd left them. It was a conflicting thought because he didn't want to look pushy or nosy, but that kid was practically his own, and the idea of not understanding what was going on with such a talented boy didn't sit right with him.

In the end, he decides that it's Gojo's choice on how he wants to view him. After the interaction, he'll continue to see him as he always has, or he'll become just another teacher. And that would be okay with Yaga because all that mattered to him was mutual agreement.

This time he doesn't bother with knocking and barges right in. Okay, well, he knocked briefly and then stepped in. Upon entering, Gojo is still in bed, though he's curled up and facing the wall, his back to Yaga. "Satoru," Like before, he shuts the door quietly behind him. Unlike before, he doesn't pull over a chair but instead pushes the one he left to the other side of the room so that he can sit on the edge of the mattress.

Gojo doesn't move or speak. His elbows are at his knees and his chin is cradled in his hands—like a newborn, like he'd never grown up because he truly hadn't.

"You've been cooped up in here all day, and with your eyes exposed at that." Yaga glances at the nightstand where the shades still sit. "Suguru told me that you've just been tired, but I hardly believe that's the reason."

Shoulders hiking up, Satoru turns his head and then his whole body. "Yaga. Earlier you said I was too valuable to lose. Is that what I am to you? An asset? Shoko and Suguru tell me I still have a choice, but it doesn't feel like that." His throat bobs as he nearly whines. "Is that what the stuck-up geezers on the second floor think, too?"

"So that's what this is about," Yaga sighs quietly and moves to sit up against the wall. "You mean much more to me than that, Satoru."

"How much more?" He says quickly, eyes pleading.

Yaga chuckles and takes a good second to admire the sad blue in his iris. His sclera was a little red, but Yaga was somewhat expecting that. "You're my kid, kiddo. I know you're the strongest, that you're supposed to be the star pupil of the Gojo clan, but, that's not who you are to me. You're not only my student, but the boy I essentially raised when you were 'dropped off' here. As for those geezers, I can't say the same. They're power hungry, and you're their number one food source."

Satoru rubs the corners of his eyes, blinking them free of blurriness as he slides over to sit beside Masamichi. "I like having all this power," He whispers slowly. "But I don't like the consequences that come with it. I don't bother to visit my parents anymore because they always make it a point to bring up how my existence shifted the world of Jujutsu. They talk about how one day students will be learning about me in the history books."

"Hah, that'll be the day." Yaga snorts, punching the kid lightly in the shoulder. "Who cares what those assholes say? They've only ever known you as a miracle, so they don't get to talk about you like a person to a person. I think you have potential. Potential to be someone who others look up to and learn from."

He sniffs and slams his head against the wall to keep it upright, teeth piercing the flesh of his bottom lip. "I don't want to die and be remembered as The Strongest. I want to die as someone's son, or someone's friend, or anything that holds meaning. I wish someone else was born with the Six Eyes and Limitless technique. I wish I wasn't born a sorcerer. I wish and wish, but as strong as I am, I can't rewrite the past—"

"Oh, shut your mouth," Yaga slaps his palm over his face, effectively shutting him up. "Stop pitying yourself. Be proud of how far you've come. Put everyone you spite behind you and focus on the healthy relationships you have now. It hurts me to see someone as special as you moping about snobs like your parents."

Satoru struggles against the strength in Yaga's palm, biting it at one point. Only when he settles down does it feel as light as a feather and remove itself. "What do you know, anyway?"

"I know that you have some pretty great friends that care a shit ton about you. And I know that you aren't really this upset because you let your guard down and your Infinity with it." He points at the teeth marks on his hand. He doesn't scold him for it, though.

"Jerk," Satoru turns his head away to glance at the screen of his phone sitting on his bed. "Speaking of my parents, they keep trying to call me and I don't know why. Whatever it is, I've already decided it's going to be an earful I won't care for."

Yaga reaches an arm over and traps Gojo in a headlock, pulling him into his side in...a hug? He thinks. "You're incessant. What the hell did I just say about worrying about snobs?"

He chokes at first but learns not to struggle and accept the physical affection. "...Sorry."

"Atta' boy," Yaga considers leaving now that he's gotten to the bottom of Satoru's misery, but one look at that vulnerable face is all it takes to change his mind. "Say, are you still tired or are you ready to get up?"

"A few more minutes wouldn't hurt, would it?" The boy speaks softly, but his grip on Yaga's arm is strong. He stares past the tinted lenses of his shades, a nonverbal promise that he wouldn't be taking any other answer.

Shoulder loosening but his hold remaining strong, Yaga offers a subtle smile. "No, it wouldn't."

Chapter Text

"Satoru, you can't just hide in here all day. There are people other than you who come to see me, you know?" Yaga massages his temples with his forefinger and thumb, hunched over the desk and supported by his palm. With a heavy sigh, he settles back into his chair, heels propped on the desk and hands clasped in his lap.

Satoru huffs and rolls his eyes behind his shades, pulling the curtain back a bit to look outside. "Why am I obligated to?"

"Are you being serious?" Yaga mutters, sitting up now. He stares, dumbfounded at the boy's question. He knew he could be a bit of a dunce sometimes, but he's an intelligent young man overall. When the white-haired student doesn't answer and continues to peak through the sliver of light, Yaga scoffs. "Because you're seventeen, Satoru. They're still your guardians and you're still a member of the clan."

"But I thought you said I was your kid," Satoru snorts and puffs out his cheeks as he rests his chin on his fist, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. "Or did you not really mean that?"

"I swear, Satoru, you're the embodiment of a middle school relationship," He can only shake his head and take a deep breath to combat the boy's nonsense. "I love you like a son, kid, but your parents have legal documentation of their 'ownership.' And, it's not like I can do much to interfere with clan business, especially not yours."

Frowning, Satoru rubs his eyes with a fist and tilts his head back against the wall to look at the ceiling. "It's not fair. I bust my ass for their approval all the damn time and it's never enough. I go to every meeting they ask me to, and I take on every mission I can because there should be 'nothing less for the heir of the Gojo clan.'"

"I'm not saying I disagree with you, kid, but there's nothing I can do—"

"I mean, what other kid is held by a figurative leash their whole lives?"

"Satoru."

"It just isn't ethical, really. I should have complete free will, they don't have anything to say to me for my benefit."

"Satoru."

"I can't name one other person who can relate to this, which obviously implies that they're doing everything wrong, which, of course, I've known my whole life."

"Satoru."

"But, then again, how would I know? I wasn't raised like everyone else, so how could I know what the norm is or right from wrong or black and white?"

"Satoru!"

"What?!" The boy flinches and a full-body tremble goes from his head to toes like some kind of cartoon, his eyes wide and expression like that of a pouting child.

Yaga groans and stands, knocking him upside the head with the heel of his palm. "You're rambling. Or, you were. If you want to do that, talk to Suguru. I can't keep up with everything you're sayin', but anything else, I'm willing to hear you out."

Satoru chuckles awkwardly, the sound fading off abruptly into a sigh. "Sorry. I guess this whole thing has just consumed me, and I keep thinking about all of the what-ifs."

"Yeah? Well, quit it. There isn't anything you can do besides go through it with your chin held high, which I know you won't have a problem with. Those people don't know you, so just—"

"Wait, nevermind, they just said they double-booked and they're going with the clans' meeting instead." Satoru interrupts for what could've been the twentieth time, holding out a finger meant to 'shush' Yaga. "So anyway, do you need me to do anything today?" He looks out the window again and sucks in a breath through his teeth. "Scratch that, it's raining, I'm not doing anything else."

Yaga pinches his ear and tugs his head up, tsking. "You're immeasurably arrogant and ignorant, do you know that?" He sighs, maybe for the eighth time today. "I was going to let you stay in, either way, but don't make me take that back. I can only do so much to keep you sane and out of trouble before the higher-ups get involved."

"I know—"

"Suguru should be back by now, but you know he doesn't stay in place for too long." Yaga has to suppress a smirk as he watches Satoru's face contort into a look of utter bewilderment.

"You just—"

"Shoko's probably still out, but I know you find better company in Suguru since he's got less bite to his words." Yaga is curious to see how long he could keep going on, letting him get a few words in before interrupting, but he ultimately decides he needs some quiet of his own. "Go on, get."

Smiling warmly, the most earnest he has in days, Satoru nods and closes the door behind him on his way out, navigating the halls until he's at a familiar door. He doesn't so much as knock, knowing that they were past that. The door creaks as it always has when he pushes it open, and he almost expects the room to be empty, but there Suguru is, along with Shoko, too, passing a cigarette back and forth.

"She was so ugly, too." Shoko groans, dropping her head back.

Suguru raises a brow and snorts, then motions Satoru over with a grin. "She's talking about an old lady we ame across on our assingment this morning."

"I know a thing or two about ugly elders," He mutters with a smirk, sinking onto the mattress between the two, arms slung behind the backs and over their shoulders.

Shoko picks her head back up and stares blanky at him for a second, confused, likely. "Speaking of which, aren't you supposed to be somewhere or something?"

"I mean, yeah, I was. Clan event or something ridiculously traditional like that." He doesn't elaborate much further, but the curiosity in ther eyes is enough prompting to get him to spill. "Basically, I'm allowed one skip for when they amass the whole clan for a wedding, and I can either attend it in full suit, or I can skip and go to the meeting held the next day about what actions wil be taken with the child." They're still confused.

"Actions?" Suguru mumbles, leaning back on a palm and tossing the cigarette over his shoulder and out the window. Thank the Lord, it smelled awful.

Sitting up and scooting closer, Shoko chimes in. "Yeah, more specifically...?"

Did they really not get it? "Yeah, like how they'll be raised based on their potential n' stuff. Like placement exams, only you don't get a say in it."

"That's horrible," Shoko's eyes go a tad wide, and her words are exasperated, airy like the revelation quite literally took the breath away from her.

Suguru and her share a look, silently communicating something that apparently monitered clan kids can't decipher.

"So, I take it you guys grew up with public schools and regular kids?" Satoru murmurs, albeit reluctantly, lips curling into something of a frown. Nothing could ever make him regret wishing he'd been born among normal kids. Well, maybe the idea that he might not have met these two could, but otherwise, he would die on this hill.

They both shake their head, expressions flat and unreadable, like they were still determining how to react themselves.

"Well, for what it's worth, I'm glad you're not a spoiled brat." Shoko chuckles at her own words and roughly rubs her knuckles into his hair, pushing his head down.

Following a more gentle approach, Suguru pats his back and flicks the side of his head. "Yeah, what she said. I like you better as an irrational airhead."

"You jerk!" Satoru laughs half-heartedly, swatting his hand away and jabbing him in the arm, eyes lighting up again. "So, what else did you guys do growing up that you think I didn't?

Turns out, he's got a helluva lot more to learn about people.