Chapter: Keep On
Summary: Everything has changed, and it's about time to deal with it. Everything has changed, and yet some things are still the same.
Rating: T
Warning: Referenced depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentioned child death, mentions of suicide and suicide ideation. I think that's all...
"You didn't really have to come. I'm pretty sure I can buy some clothes on my own," Satoru mutters petulantly, trying on his latest 'choice', some kind of samue-like set that reminds him a lot of his now ruined uniform.
Well, the jacket ties with the laces over his right hip rather than a zip at the front, but at least it isn't a yukata.
He has already picked a couple of long-sleeved button-ups that make him think of hadagi, kimono undergarments, if not for their garish coloring, as well as a haori jacket for warm weather and a hanten jacket for cold weather. Apparently, fashion in this curse world is very traditional—human traditional, that is. He'd seen it while walking around with the chibi squad, but he hadn't thought about what it would mean for him.
"And risk murder? No, thank you. I'd rather keep my hard-earned peace," his companion scoffs just outside the changing room, and with his borrowed yukata in hand, Satoru finally steps outside.
Sukuna simply lifts an eyebrow, challenging him without words, and Satoru scowls.
"What? Are there poisonous clothes too?"
"Not in this shop. Come now, let's pay and be off," Sukuna huffs, and Satoru has to take a moment to process that first sentence before his mind catches up with the second.
"Whoa, what? Sukuna, seriously! Stop paying for me!" he protests, pride driving the scowl that twists his face rather than common sense.
Satoru doesn't have curse money; he doesn't even have human money. It only makes sense for Sukuna to pay for him.
Except for the fact that the slimy shopkeeper burbles nervously in a clear prelude to another everything's free speech.
"It is an honor to clothe Sukuna-ou's most honored guest! You need pay us nothing, Sukuna-ou, Gojo-sama!"
Yeah. That.
"Whatever," Sukuna huffs, bored—tired, more like it, but Satoru won't be the one to point it out—as he leaves a handful of squared golden sticks on the counter and leaves.
Satoru groans, defeated, and ignores the curse as it bows deeply after him.
After them.
"Stop doing that! They think I'm your friend," Satoru whines, catching up to Sukuna to give him a pout, though his glare, hidden by his blindfold, is a bit more piercing than the expression would betray.
"Why would they think that?" Sukuna scowls, disgusted, as the two eyes in Satoru's sight turn to stare at him.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you keep paying for me?"
"And what would you pay with, Gojo? Services?" Sukuna retorts, finally turning to face him fully with what is clearly a lecherous grin.
Satoru scowls, disgusted, before he huffs and straightens with a cocky grin.
"Wouldn't you like that."
"Actually, no. Strangely enough, meeting you was quite the turn-off," Sukuna answers with a casually innocent shrug that, Six Eyes or not, does absolutely not fool Satoru.
The bastard is baiting him, and they both know it.
Unfortunately for Sukuna, Satoru has the upper hand in this conversation.
"Must have been the beatdown I gave you," he grins, and Sukuna realizes his misstep with a start, before sending a truly terrifying scowl Satoru's way.
"That was not a beatdown. Ten seconds of a fight do not count as a beatdown!"
"If it only lasted ten seconds…"
"You made a contract with the brat for it to only last ten seconds. It. Does. Not. Count," Sukuna hisses, but Satoru keeps his grin up while he inconspicuously analyzes their surroundings through his blindfold.
Sukuna is more of a hermit than Satoru first thought. Oh, the other curses recognize the name, of course, but it takes them that, or someone else to point out who the four-armed and four-eyed curse is, for them to actually recognize him. And while extra arms and eyes are fairly normal in curses, Sukuna is still pretty much unique.
If they don't recognize him immediately… Well, that's proof enough.
Oh! Maybe…
"Maybe it's the casual conversation," Satoru muses out loud, previous topic forgotten – for the time being, because he wouldn't be Gojo Satoru if he didn't poke at people's pride.
"What are you talking about now?" Sukuna groans, rubbing a hand over his face, as if soothing a headache.
… Can curses get headaches?
"The whole 'Gojo-sama, friend of Sukuna-ou' thing. I mean, there's no way I'll call you something that stupid. Maybe they think it's out of friendship, or something equally ridiculous," Satoru answers instead, shelving the thought to ask another time.
"Figures," Sukuna sighs, more defeated than annoyed, and Satoru's frown actually shows in the downturn of his lips when the curse looks up. "What is it now?"
"Just… Why did you actually come with me? We could have avoided this whole mess if only you'd stayed put. It isn't like I need a babysitter, not if you give me the names of the things I need to avoid," Satoru points out, trying not to show just how pissed he is at the kid gloves.
He's the Strongest Sorcerer. And yes, maybe his Limitless can't detect poisons, he never managed to train it to that point despite meaning to. Or maybe, like Sukuna said, things that aren't poisonous in small amounts don't trigger Limitless even when they are in deadly amounts.
Sukuna's next glare is dead serious.
"I'm not your babysitter, Gojo. I'm your minder."
Satoru… well, Satoru blinks, startled, and slows down until he's actually standing still in the middle of the street. Sukuna stops a couple steps ahead, looking at him over his shoulder, still serious, though his arms are still crossed in front of him, hands hidden in the sleeves of his black yukata.
Satoru doesn't even need to open his mouth for Sukuna to explain himself.
"You could kill everyone in this colony, if you chose to."
"Well, yes. But why worry about that now?" Satoru asks, not insulted at all because, duh, Sukuna's right.
But he hadn't bothered about that yesterday, when Satoru went on his chibi guided tour.
"Because the next time you hallucinate Kenjaku or Geto—"
"Why do you assume I will eat the wrong thing again?"
"—you might attack first and ask questions later," Sukuna finishes, ignoring his scowl, and Satoru grumbles even as he straightens and folds his arms against his chest.
And then, he sighs and catches up, and the two of them resume their walk without paying any mind to the crowd of frozen curses who have gathered around them while they were distracted.
"… That's a valid point," he finally grumbles, and does definitely not see Sukuna's triumphant grin.
They stop at yet another shop, this one selling some kind of silk scarves that the shopkeeper, a gorgeous—and definitely ill-proportioned—moth-like curse claims to make themself from, quote unquote, my own offsprings' cocoons!
Satoru almost walks out of the shop right there and then, but Sukuna has that glint in his four eyes that belays an afternoon of teasing if he does. So, Satoru stays put and ends up with a couple of actually warm, fuzzy and cuddly scarves.
"It will get cold soon," Sukuna says simply when he notices Satoru eyeing the bright red scarf Sukuna adds to the bag containing his own.
The shopkeeper lifts their hands to refuse their money, but Sukuna doesn't even ask this time, he just puts some silver sticks on the counter and walks out.
Satoru snickers, but after a two-fingered salute at the moth curse, he grabs the bag and follows.
"Oi, jerkass!" he calls, and despite his twitch at the insult, Sukuna doesn't turn, nevertheless catching the scarf bag that Satoru throws at him. "I'm carrying enough stuff already, and that one has something of yours. Pull your weight," he adds mockingly, and that makes Sukuna turn just enough to deliver a deadpan glare.
"What, clothing, feeding and allowing you your very own room at my house is not enough 'weight'? What about dealing with your insufferable personality and the fallout for your stupid decisions?"
"Sorry, I don't have my Special Grade salary anymore to cover rent. Comes with the whole 'the world ended' stick," Satoru snarks back, and if his smile has far too much teeth in it, Sukuna's only has more.
"Aw, do you need a shoulder to cry on? Do you want me to lament how horrible it is that you didn't end with it?"
"Why?" Satoru asks, absolutely serious, and Sukuna is the one to stop first this time, sharp grin replaced by a small frown.
"Did you eat something you shouldn't while my back was turned? It's called mocking, Gojo. I was making fun of you."
"No, not that. I mean, why aren't I dead?"
Satoru is not talking about Shibuya, or whatever happened after, and they both know it.
After all, the reason they are out here, in the city, is because Sukuna ripped Satoru's clothes to shreds when he stabbed his stomach with his claws to save his life after he got accidentally poisoned by some delicious mochi.
"If you're going to die, it will be at my hand."
"I told you. You don't get to die until I say so," Sukuna rumbles, an answer and a warning all in one.
Useless. Sukuna should know better than to throw such words at Satoru.
"Why."
Sukuna turns around, and scarf bag in one hand or not, Satoru actually feels a shiver of anticipation course up his spine when the King of Curses grins.
It's sharp, toothy, and despite the relatively sunny day, there are shadows on his face that make his blood red eyes shine.
"Because I'm bored. And until you no longer amuse me, you get to live for my entertainment."
Satoru grins almost in reflex, pondering those words, that threat, but most important of all, what he can glean about the context.
Bored. In a world of curses, where Sukuna is on top. Human-eater and chaos-bringer, of course Sukuna would be bored. And with nothing else to challenge him, Sukuna retreated to his quaint house in the Hill of the Last Standing, letting the world go by untouched until he found…
… Until he found some reason to live for again.
Satoru's grin is gone. Sukuna looks suspicious, of all things, but why…?
"If you're thinking what I'm thinking…" he warns, showing a hint of sharp fangs as he scowls, but Satoru merely blinks.
Here he is, standing in the middle of a shopping street in a small town, not unlike Sendai, with its adorable tiny kikufuku mochi shop, and with curious eyes staring at him as people go by…
But they aren't people. They're curses. And Satoru knows it. Why is it suddenly hard to breathe then?
"There's no way," a rough voice whispers, and cliché or not, it takes Satoru a moment to recognize it as his own.
Sukuna tilts his head, still frowning, and Satoru has to marvel at the fact his grip on the bags hasn't tightened. Why aren't his hands shaking? It feels like they should be.
"There's no way I would ever think like you," Satoru hisses, and this time, his large grin is pure threat.
"Feeling a bit high and mighty there, Strongest Fool?" Sukuna mocks back, resting his weight casually on his back foot as he tilts his head up. "Do you want to finally settle our score? Prove you truly deserve that ridiculous title?"
Oh, a challenge! Someone's feeling feisty.
But not feistier than whatever is burning Satoru up from the inside out.
His own grin sharpens as he straightens to his full height, Sukuna's smaller build making the difference almost too obvious as Satoru looks down on the unflappable curse—
"I have nothing to prove to a depressed coward."
… Holy Hell, Satoru didn't know anyone could ever look that stricken, least of all King of Curses Ryoumen Sukuna.
Why did I say that?
… Also, why does my head hurt this much? Was there really some kind of poisonous clothing in any of those shops?
"Well, then. It was nice knowing you, Gojo Satoru," Sukuna sneers, murder lighting his eyes a bloody red—
And vanishes with a blink, replaced by something far more terrifying.
A smile. Not a grin, not a snarl so wide that it could be confused for a smile.
No, it's a smile, and it's the certainty of a killing blow that lights up Sukuna's eyes as he once more curls his claws into the sleeves of his yukata.
"Ever wonder why the world ended? Not just general facts, but the truth. Because Kenjaku didn't just wipe everything out in one fell swoop. There was resistance. Though it was futile, useless… Because of you."
"If this is about them sealing me—"
"It's about you living," Sukuna interrupts Satoru's protests easily, his smile curling into something almost angelic.
Satoru blames the twisting pain in his gut on the scar on his stomach.
"Oh, don't look so surprised. It was obvious. They didn't have the tools to open the Prison Realm, true… But they didn't need to. They just needed you to fight back. And you didn't."
The world goes dark around them, to the point that, Six Eyes or not, Satoru can only see Sukuna in front of him. Must be one big cloud, to throw the world in darkness like that.
… Why are his hands sweating?
"The moment Kenjaku died, the Prison Realm was left without its bearer, growing weaker with every passing day. Now, your average curse wouldn't have been able to escape… But you? If only you had thought to resist…" Sukuna chuckles – and the snap of his fingers makes Satoru flinch. "Done! Free after, oh, a year? Two, maybe? No more than a decade for someone like you, surely. But of course, how could you know? You were trapped, after all, there was no way for you to know that Kenjaku was dead," Sukuna huffs, shrugging all four of his arms with an expression that can simply be summed as 'oh well' – before he straightens with a grin of realization upon his lips. "Oh, wait! Surely you would have known enough to know that there is no way to escape the Prison Realm… except for one."
Satoru opens his mouth, dry as it is, and feels his lips tremble.
"That would have accomplished—"
"Gojo Satoru. The Strongest. Bearer of the priced Limitless technique and the Six Eyes. Sure, a trained Special Grade is better than a newfangled cursed womb… But did you seriously think having another Six Eyes around wouldn't have helped them?"
"It took four hundred years for me to be born!" Satoru shouts, snarling, his Limitless buzzing against his skin.
Sukuna's mocking grin turns pitying.
"And how long do you think it took the world to die?"
There's something big and sticky clogging Satoru's throat. He tries to swallow it down, and almost chokes on it.
That's when he realizes what it is.
"Feeling guilty, Gojo?"
Sukuna's grin is sharp as he speaks those words, his four eyes dark and piercing, seeing almost more than Satoru's Six Eyes.
The Six Eyes. The accursed Six Eyes. Only one pair of those can exist at the same time. The wavelength of their cursed energy is very specific – and overpowering. The moment another pair of Six Eyes starts to form, they are obliterated by the cursed energy of the first, its more powerful wavelength cancelling the newer.
Perhaps that's why there were so many stillborn children in the Gojo Clan while a Six Eyes sorcerer was alive.
And that meant that, difficult as it was to obtain the perfect combination of Limitless and the Six Eyes, as long as Satoru was alive, even though he was trapped…
For as long as Gojo Satoru remained in the Prison Realm, unwilling to take his own life to escape, there would never be another Six Eyes sorcerer.
The Six Eyes are a burden, even as they are the only way to refine Limitless to become the deadly weapon Satoru has perfected. But even without Limitless, a Six Eyes sorcerer could have surely helped. They would have found the enemy's weak points, they would have identified cursed wombs before they would birth, they would have…
They would have made the difference in the world that would turn into this.
Sukuna's eyes are almost as dark as the pit that has devoured Satoru's soul.
Maybe that's why he manages to speak as calmly as he does.
"As guilty as you do."
… Perhaps Satoru should have just died inside that accursed box.
Sukuna's surprise turns into understanding, even as his smirk sharpens into the shield Satoru was too blind to see it for.
"You really want to die, huh?"
Cursed energy surges and Satoru and Sukuna look up, shock wiping away anything else they might have been feeling—
Tengen's Barrier reasserts itself as if it had never left.
Satoru's breath catches in his throat, even as he hears Sukuna snarl a swear under his breath—
"That thrice-damned bas—Gojo!"
But Satoru isn't listening anymore, shooting up higher and higher as he builds his curse energy up in his fist – and strikes the Barrier.
The cursed energy that flashes back is his, much like if he had struck some kind of mirror. But the one behind it, isn't.
Even as he careens down, breath punched out of his lungs by the surprise and the Barrier flashing overhead as it dispels the attack, Satoru laughs, curling into himself when his stomach resents his mad cackling.
He stops himself before he can slam onto the street, lifting a small cloud of dust instead, but he doesn't stop laughing.
"What was that about, Gojo? If you had only asked, I could have told you how useless that was," Sukuna scowls, looking almost disappointed, as Satoru rubs his eyes clear over his blindfold.
The street is abuzz with worry, shock, and the usual dose of admiration and fear that accompanies Satoru's display of jujutsu, so he pays the curses no mind.
Instead, he turns straight to Sukuna, grinning widely even as his host lifts an unimpressed eyebrow.
"It's Tengen's Barrier."
"You're a fool," Sukuna proclaims with enough certainty to almost floor Satoru – and turns around to walk back to the Hill.
"Wha—No, wait! I mean for real! It's Tengen's Barrier! That's his cursed energy actively flowing through it up there!"
Sukuna stops.
"Actively?"
"Ac. Ti. Ve. Ly!" Satoru repeats, enunciating each syllable carefully, and still grinning much like the fool he was accused of being not two seconds ago.
Sukuna looks over his shoulder again, and his sharp grin is delighted.
"So. The old coward is still conscious enough to cast a barrier on us once more."
"Pretty rude, if you ask me," Satoru answers, his grin so wide that it's starting to hurt his cheeks.
"Indeed. Shall we pay him a visit, and ask him to reconsider his policy of bubbling up his problems?"
Satoru recognizes the irony, the hypocrisy, in that statement, both for Sukuna, who asked the question—
"Yes, we shall."
—and for Satoru, who accepts the offer.
But Tengen, the only other remnant of the old world, of the human world, is not as far gone as Sukuna had assumed, and thus led Satoru to believe.
Maybe he has a chance to… learn something. Do something. Get rid of this sticky darkness that threatens to clog up Satoru's throat, even now.
Sukuna turns around to face Satoru, but addresses a small pottery shopkeeper instead.
"You there. Watch our bags, will you? We will come back for them after we're done catching up with an old friend," Sukuna asks, and if it sounds like an order, Satoru is sure that was his intention all along.
The shopkeeper practically throws themself at their feet in their haste to obey, an awed and honored expression on their… uh, their face? Meh, close enough.
Free of their purchases, Satoru pockets his hands as he slouches casually, tilting his head back without looking down at Sukuna—metaphorically, because the height difference is still there.
"So… Where's Tengen holed up nowadays?"
"Same place he ever was," Sukuna answers without missing a beat, though there's still a hint of his excited grin curling his lips.
Satoru blinks, surprised, and lifts an eyebrow that goes unseen under his blindfold.
"Oh? Jujutsu Tech? Why haven't you dropped by, then? Or have Tengen's barriers really changed that much?"
"Obviously, they have changed," Sukuna grumbles with an eyeroll, before he delivers a frankly impressive unimpressed look. "But no, the reason I haven't 'dropped by' before is that no one can enter Origin. The other colonies may be under barriers too, but one can still travel between them through the Link. But not Origin. Tengen hid in the remains of Jujutsu Tech, unbothered by the inhabitants of the colony until he ascended, six hundred years ago. After that, all contact with Origin was lost," he explains, his grin finally gone, and Satoru listens attentively, serious as befits the situation.
He doesn't understand the whole 'colony' obsession rather than simply calling them 'cities', or what the Link that connects the barriers is, but he still gets the point of the explanation.
As thus, he answers with a sharp grin.
"Is that all? Well, not to worry, then! I will arrange for transportation," Satoru purrs, puffing up, before sketching a very exaggerated bow as he offers Sukuna a hand—
With absolutely no hesitation, Sukuna takes the offer, simply snorting at Satoru's startled look.
There's still a thin layer of Infinity between their hands—much like with adult Jogo, back when Satoru first met him—and there's absolutely no way Sukuna can move his hand now that it's in Satoru's, but…
"Pretty confident, aren't you?" Satoru asks lowly, his grin returning much slower than before, and far more intrigued.
"Pretty impatient too," Sukuna rumbles back, his own grin far too excited at the chance for battle to be completely hidden.
Satoru bows his head again, leaning further into the pantomime, before he straightens and claps his free hand atop their entwined ones—
And the city is gone.
JUJU STROLL!
What's everyone's favorite mochi?
The four chibis grin widely, throwing their hands up.
"Ugoku-yama mochi!"
… What's everyone favorite mochi besides ugoku-yama mochi?
"Hanami mochi!" Hanami exclaims, though he immediately hides behind his hands at all the stares that answer earns him. "What? It tastes like home… Rich soil, flavored by all the fallen rotting cherry blossoms…"
"Well, mine is Sakura no Mokutan mochi! The cherry charcoal makes the mochi spicy," Jogo grins, puffing his chest out—alongside a literal puff of white smoke—as he answers.
"Eh, really? I like when you eat Konomi bota mochi, your smoke smells really good after," Hanami chuckles, and the next puff of smoke to escape out of Jogo's head does so with a high-pitched whistle.
"Sh-shut up, Hanami! I don't eat it because of that!"
Dagon burbles pensively, waving his tentacles as he debates his choice, and the other three listen attentively as he goes over each and every point.
"That's a really good argument," Hanami muses, impressed, while Jogo scratches his head with his brow furrowed so tightly that it looks almost painful.
"Damn it, Dagon! Now I really have to think about it again…"
"Mine's Satou no Keshou mochi," Mahito answers after a moment, grinning carelessly and folding his hands behind his head.
"The mochi with sugar crystals inside? Those are really sweet," Hanami muses, leaning back on his hands while Jogo blinks out of his head in surprise.
"I didn't know you liked sweets that much, Mahito."
"I don't. But biting a sugar crystal is like biting into someone's soul," Mahito answers cheerily.
After a moment to process the words, the other three chibi curses scoot away from him.
"That's right! Gojo-sama, what's your favorite mochi?" Hanami asks after Dagon burbles up at their newest friend, whose dumbfounded expression immediately turns into a huge grin.
"That's a tough one, Hanami-kun! But I'd have to say it's edamame and cream kikufuku mochi," he answers, lifting a finger as if literally raising that point.
"What's that?"
"Never heard of it."
"You can make mochi out of edamame?"
Gojo gapes for a moment, before he throws his head back with a groan and lets himself fall onto his back on the tatami.
"No way…!" he whines, covering his face with his hands.
"I've managed to make some anko and cream kikufuku, but our cream doesn't exactly blend with the edamame. Tch, it's annoying," Sukuna grumbles, leaning on the elbow he has rested on the table, and at once, five heads turn to him. "What."
"You… make mochi," Gojo repeats, and Sukuna's unimpressed look turns into a warning glare.
"It's called boredom, Gojo. Don't read too much into it."
"Can you teach us?" Mahito squeals, grinning widely up at Sukuna, with the other three mini curses not far behind.
"No."
"Maybe we can find why the cream and the edamame won't mix!"
"I said no."
"I want to try some!"
"Are you listening to me."
"Who would have thought the King of Curses is actually a baking enthusiast!"
"Next time you get poisoned, Gojo, I will laugh."
Dagon splutters, and silence falls.
As one, everyone turns to Sukuna, and one of his four eyes starts to twitch.
"That's right, Sukuna. You haven't answered yet. What's your favorite mochi?"
"What makes you think I have any."
Gojo grins widely. It's not a nice smile.
"Do you know what this means, chibi squad? We need to buy every flavor so Sukuna can try them and figure it out!"
"Yay!"
"Ningen no mochi."
Silence falls as everyone turns to look at Sukuna, once more leaning on his elbow with a toothy grin curling his lips, all four eyes glinting with bloodlust.
"Shame there are no more humans around, isn't it?"
The mini curses exchange a look. Gojo lets his head thud against the table with a sigh.
Mahito grins.
"Which bit do you like best?"
"Oh, simple. Just like ugoku-yama—"
"Question time is over!"
AN: The opinions of the characters are not those of the author, and neither are the circumstances of the fandom appliable to the real world. If they were, the Two Idiots would have had therapists for a while, at this point.
Also, there's a lot of headcanon mechanics of the Jujutsu world and techniques. Sorry, not sorry. There will be a lot more from now on.
'Yay' for plot? Well, if it's any consolation, the plot is really light in this installment. Wait a couple more for when it gets weird.