Viewer discretion is advised: The following story covers a multitude of difficult topics such as murder, justice and abuse.
Prologue
The shock of stark, white hair from within the cage hits Suguru like a roundhouse kick to the gut. The world around him goes eerily silent and all he can see, all he can think is that the battered face of the little boy huddled in the bamboo cage looks eerily similar- too familiar-
It looks too much like Satoru.
"What?" He finally manages to ask, "Is this?"
Wrong. It's wrong, Geto Suguru knows what he thinks is going on here, but that can't be right. It's wrong. He must be wrong, because this is-
"What is this?" The villager spits in reply, oblivious to everything but his own rage as he fumes down at the child in the cage, "Isn't it obvious! That thing is behind the incident- what's been going on here!"
Wrong. You're wrong. I already removed the cause of the incident. The thumb of his finger is digging hard into his forehead, as if Suguru could somehow push some understanding into his head, as if it would make the little boy's blank face look any less like- just even slightly different from-
"So can you kill it?" The villager asks instead of the correct response to his question and something that's been building, and building inside of Suguru finally snaps- but it also clicks awfully into place until all that is left in his mind is the roar of an applause.
"Are…. you… okay?" The curse warbles out at the hunched over, tiny figure in the cage, and those familiar, similar, awful blue eyes widen on the little boy's face, as he looks at the talking curse with an innocent curiosity.
Something has been growing inside of Suguru for a while now, he knows this. It's something heavy. It's been dragging down the back of his throat like a dirty rag that has wiped up shit and bile. It feels like every disgusting, putrid curse he's ever swallowed is threatening to come up all at once and devour him whole.
It feels like something dark, and unavoidable has touched his soul, in the shape of a palm of a too small hand from a too familiar looking little boy.
Suguru turns towards the villagers with a twitching smile. "Shall we go outside for now?"
"Huh?"
"Don't make me say it again and again. Suguru killed everyone in the village-"
"I heard you the first time!" For all that he wishes he didn't, Gojo Satoru had heard every word. I heard you. Now how do you expect me to believe you? "That's why I said, "huh?"
"Suguru's old home was an empty husk, as well. Though, from the bloodstains and residuals, he most likely killed his parents, too-" Wrong. You're wrong!
"Like hell he did!" It's wrong, he can't- Satoru can't even imagine it. It has to be a mistake.
But Yaga only rubs at his forehead gruffly, and Satoru wonders if the man can't help but also think how wrong this is, how wrong he must be, how wrong he has to be right now- "I don't understand what's going on, either."
Something has been growing inside of Suguru for a while now, he knows this. Satoru knows this, he knew something was wrong- he knows this-
But he thought- He had thought…
They're wrong… Satoru grinds his teeth, his fist clenching so tightly it bleeds. Something has been growing inside of Satoru for a while now too, he knows this, he thought Suguru knew this, too. He had thought-
They're wrong. Right, Suguru?