[it isn't a fair comparison—but that's just it, isn't it? nothing is fair, least of all the world satoru chose to protect and suguru chose to destroy. a fact that suguru accepted long, long ago; a fact that sticks in his side even now, as he inwardly acknowledges the truth behind satoru's words. i never went after them, you know. no. no, satoru never did. satoru allowed suguru to exist along the outskirts, gathering curses and resources and people for the better part of ten years. a tentative ceasefire.
and above that, beyond that, suguru remembers satoru at the end, telling him that his family escaped. it could have been a lie; suguru knew it wasn't, and thus suguru felt something akin to gratitude, in those last moments of his life—but nothing is fair. even if satoru were to continue bending the rules, others wouldn't; someone would inevitably attempt (or be instructed) to pick off members of suguru's family, a cowardly attempt to weaken him, and would they show mercy? how many deaths would the higher-ups deem necessary; how many sorcerers would they be willing to lose?
or: the twisted calculus that is suguru's plans, suguru's logic—what suguru wants, in the end, is what is best for his family. the girls. even if he wanted to believe that satoru would never hurt them, given that satoru has purposely turned a blind eye—even if he knows that satoru would never hurt them without cause—satoru still represents the world suguru detests. satoru remains a threat.
and yet satoru is also a hope.
...maybe this is what death does to a person? forces them to reconsider and reorganize their priorities, because while suguru does not intend to die for a second, suguru never intended to die at all. he left his family adrift at sea, with some members, he's certain, climbing over one another to reach the lifeboats—but he knows the girls' loyalty. he knows what they will choose, if he can't find a way back to them, and he thinks this person stretched out on the grass will provide a better option.
so suguru holds satoru's hidden gaze, for a time. relying on the familiar weight of it.]
They won't like it, [he confirms, thinking of the fuss they're sure to make, the trouble they're sure to cause,] but you can convince them. [well—] Eventually. They know who you were.
[were. a choice—but suguru doesn't linger on it, his smile shrinking as he is caught between two realities: satoru, the sorcerer, and satoru, the person. one suguru does not trust; one suguru trusts above so many others, when it comes to that which is most important.
nothing is fair.
quietly, then, and every bit as serious as satoru is trying not to be:]
Don't take them back.
[suguru doesn't need to say where, surely; satoru should know.]
[Suguru's word choice doesn't escape his notice. He wants to ask: Do they know who you were? Before? Suguru was always good. Smart. The better of them. Satoru knows he wouldn't be who he is today if Suguru hadn't been there to guide him.
But he keeps that question to himself.
The initial request itself is a large ask. For Satoru to keep his promise not to hurt the girls, he has to make sure they don't follow in Suguru's footsteps. He has to turn them away from life as curse users and undo what he assumes Suguru taught them. He has to try to convince them of his plan for change.
And he has to promise to do so without knowing the state of the world, since he was trapped in the prison realm before boarding this train.
It'll be challenging, but not impossible. They won't be the first kids that Satoru has helped steer in the right direction, even if they will likely be the most difficult — and even though they'll probably (rightfully) look at him as Suguru's killer. He won't get a free pass with them as he did with Megumi, but Satoru isn't the only one who can help them. His students have a knack for integrating outsiders into their group.
But it's the second part of the request — the part he knew was coming — that makes this promise all the more complicated.]
You'd make me swear to that?
[It would be in their best interests to go to the school. To make friends with sorcerers their age. To learn that they don't have to be left behind. To keep them alive, and to keep them from making the same mistakes as Suguru.
What is he supposed to do with two girls who won't fit in with normal human society, but that he's bound to keep out of jujutsu society as a whole? What kind of future is there for them, when they're so trapped, being a curse user will seem like their only option forward?
Satoru can't make a case for the alternative, because to explain that there are some powerful students in his care would put them on Suguru's radar. He can't describe his plans for upsetting jujutsu society as a whole, because Suguru will know to strike when change is in air and the hierarchy is weak. He can't promise that the girls won't get hurt if they do go to the school, because that's an impossible vow to keep.
He groans, covering his face with his arm again.]
Fine! Fine. I won't take them there. But if they choose to go on their own, I'm not gonna stop them.
[And it's possible they will, in time. If they do truly come to trust Satoru. If it really is possible that he can convince them to turn their backs on the path that he failed to convince Suguru to leave, all those years ago.]
[satoru's question is as much a question as suguru's stipulation was a surprise—and thus suguru opts for silence? allows satoru time to consider the ramifications of this arrangement. the difficulties. even if the girls choose to cooperate—which they will, suguru believes, if given enough time—there is the matter of keeping them hidden from the higher-ups; there is the struggle of winning them over, bit by bit; there is the responsibility of watching over two teens who, though self-sufficient, require time and attention. care. suguru knows what he is asking of satoru; suguru knows that allowing satoru to bring the girls back to the school would make it all so much easier.
but suguru did not free the girls from one cage just to shove them into another. they deserve their freedom.
and their freedom is why, as satoru drops his arm back over his half-hidden face, suguru takes satoru's words in stride. this was something he'd accounted for, of course. the possibility that, if left in satoru's care, the girls may grow curious, may decide to follow satoru back to the school—and this is nothing as simple as, say, the girls demanding to visit some monkey-owned sweets shop. choosing to attend the school would be turning their backs on all that suguru taught them.
it isn't what suguru wants for them, no. he doesn't want the girls caught up in the marathon that is sorcery, risking their lives for those who will never understand—but it would be their choice. their choice. if they are to survive, they must find meaning in the world without him.
(and wouldn't he be partially to blame, in the end? honesty was telling the girls why he hated the system he chose to leave—but also answering their questions about the people caught within it. the people he'd once cared for.)]
If that's what they choose, [he agrees, some of the tension easing from his shoulders as he thinks of how stubborn they are? of the two of them following him after a family meeting, walking side-by-side in the shelter of his shadow. master geto, master geto—] They've always made their own decisions. I trust them.
[he does. their commitment is unquestionable, which he's sure will frustrate satoru to no end—and for a moment, just a moment, satoru thinks of other things he wishes he could demand of satoru. don't act like a child when you argue with them; they'll never respect you. never leave money with nanako; she has a sweet tooth to rival yours. always, always, treat them well. remember that i cared for them.
now, however, it's suguru's turn to close his eyes? the briefest break before he cracks them open once more, knowing that demanding satoru never kill him would have rendered this entire topic obsolete—but suguru knows his worth, and suguru knows his limits. so, simply:]
[Ten years is a long time, but it is nothing compared to a year of grief. There were many times throughout the last year where the days dragged on and Satoru felt as though the decade of living without Suguru because of Suguru's choices was unfairly short, whereas the year of living without Suguru because Suguru was dead felt too long. Too unrelenting, in how time continued forward.
But now, lying on the ground and listening to Suguru speak, Satoru understands just how long a decade truly is. Long enough for Suguru to establish a family in more than mere name. Long enough for him to love two girls enough to respect their ability to make their own decisions. Long enough for Suguru to sound less a curse user and more a parent.
Long enough the chasm between them to grow so wide that they need a binding vow to cross it.
Satoru shifts his arm, opens his eyes, and looks at the shape of the trees above him.]
Honesty. And two teenage girls.
[He laughs because it sounds so simple, framed like that. But honesty is a risk, and two teenage girls are a complicated lifelong investment.
But they're important to Suguru. That much is clear.
And Satoru is still tired. The nap and the apple have taken the edge off, but there's no telling how much longer they'll be on this train. A train that has the power to steal his techniques, hide his eyes, and trap the King of Curses in here with him. Suguru isn't asking for too much, considering what he is sacrificing by aligning himself with Satoru. He hasn't requested a future pardon or to be given free reign upon their escape, demands that Satoru would easily turn down.
His requests are reasonable, and while Satoru wouldn't have expected Suguru to make all manner of ridiculous demands, the knowledge that he would temper his desires to this degree exacerbates that heavy feeling in his chest. Given the opportunity to ask for anything, Suguru has shown that he boils down to one clear desire: the protection of two girls.
There is still goodness within Suguru, no matter how twisted and warped it has become. And that is why, even now, that small spark of trust still exists within Satoru.
It's why he agrees.]
Good stuff.
[He weighs these requests against the time frame of a while, and says, his voice a little muffled by his sleeve:]
Until we find the exit.
[Rather than holding Suguru to his vow until they succeed in their escape, Satoru decides to draw the finish line right before they leave. That way, should Suguru choose to act against him or otherwise return to his path, they can resolve matters here, instead of bringing another problem back home with them.]
[it feels... strange, stripping some part of himself bare like this. not completely; satoru doesn't even know the girls' names, but he does know how valuable they are, to suguru. the many, many things suguru would—has—set aside simply to keep them safe. it isn't wise to broadcast one's weaknesses.
but if anyone knows that suguru is far from untouchable, it's satoru.
and as uncomfortable as it is to be reminded that he is vulnerable, suguru thinks that maybe, just maybe, satoru is uncomfortable, too. it must be odd, being confronted with—or reminded of—the fact that an enemy is a person? that suguru severed old ties to forge new ones, establishing a new routine, a new life, that satoru is only allowed into when it all comes crashing down. satoru, left to pick up the pieces. suguru knows this is selfish.
this, however, remains his price, which he knows satoru will pay; it's simply a matter of how long satoru expects him to cooperate in return, which—well. until we find the exit. suguru stills for a moment, considering opportunities, risks—
—before offering a barely audible hum.]
Deal.
[how many times have they done this? made "deals," albeit of a far more lighthearted nature. this casual approach is nostalgic when it absolutely shouldn't be—and yet, as suguru watches satoru do nothing at all, suguru feels that bitterness just barely give way, allowing something akin to fondness to make its presence known.
...how odd. how exhausting. when this is over, suguru will need to find somewhere quiet and satoru-free to recuperate.]
You could at least sit up for this, you know.
Edited (how many times can i use the word strange in one tag: the challenge) 2021-08-28 00:32 (UTC)
[Satoru doesn't want to sit up. When he considers complying with Suguru's (reasonable) suggestion, he immediately wants to resist. To sit up is to give the vow the gravity that it deserves, but the fact that it requires solemnity at all is hard to accept. It solidifies what the binding vow represents — a band aid over a huge gap of time and distance. It acknowledges that they now require a degree of decorum to create what once would have been a simple agreement. It establishes the mutual sacrifices that will be made here, not only concerning vulnerabilities, but also as far as what Satoru is willing to grant Suguru in terms of his behavior. It feels like another backslide into the past, only wrong, because once it would have been enough for Satoru to give Suguru a playful shove to seal a deal. Once, lying here and lazily nodding his head have been enough.
But a binding vow is as it is labeled: binding. A sealing of a promise with cursed energy, the violation of which leads to significant penalties. It's a big deal. For Satoru Gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in generations, to make a binding vow with anyone is an even bigger deal. Making it with an enemy is huge.
Which is why Satoru drags his feet.]
We don't have to treat this as seriously as the geezers do.
[Meaning the higher-ups, who follow all sorts of rituals in the creation of binding vows. Those traditions are boring and unnecessary, when all he and Suguru need to do initiating the binding of their cursed energy.
But it's an empty protest. He's already moving, though he takes his time in complying — stretching his arm above his head, rubbing his eyes through his blindfold, and then slowly working himself up into a casual sitting position.]
You do the honors.
[Of stating the terms in full, since Suguru has always been better at formalities than Satoru. Meanwhile, Satoru will tug down his blindfold to watch and ensure the binding successfully takes.
And to look at Suguru as he gives up his freedom to work alongside him once more.]
[the problem with satoru—then, and now, and forever—is how comfortable he feels? oh, not immediately, and not to the degree that suguru lets his guard down; it's impossible to forget that they exist on opposite ends of the spectrum these days, enemies instead of friends—but then comes a joke, or a handful of short, stupid texts. something simple that deserves no attention whatsoever, because suguru made his choice; suguru committed to his path.
and yet the simplest things often prove the most insidious, somehow slipping through cracks that should not exist. they make it easy to remember, to miss, to mourn the way things used to be; they make suguru want to step closer to satoru when he should be taking three steps back, and that's dangerous, so dangerous. for both of them. neither of them can afford to let the other in.
so while they wouldn't have needed to treat this so seriously, once upon a time? while they wouldn't have needed to make this vow at all? now they need to draw this line in the sand—which is why, as satoru makes a show of sitting up, suguru calmly plucks the seed from his lap, slipping it into his robes before he purposely, pointedly, pushes himself to his feet. satoru allowing suguru to take the reins is—well. it would have been par for the course, a decade back; now it feels like a tease and a test, twisted together.
it's fine. suguru does not intend to rock the boat at this stage, and so, coolly calmly:]
Until we find a way off this train, I, Suguru Geto, swear to work alongside you. I swear to abide by the rules and regulations of a jujutsu sorcerer.
[which still burns? threatens to stick in his throat, honestly, but he pushes past it with feigned ease, eyes betraying nothing as they fall to satoru's.]
And you, Satoru Gojo, swear to be honest.
[the briefest pause, then, as suguru considers how to word the most pressing part of this arrangement—but it's nothing. a barely noticeable break as he holds out his right hand, palm facing upward, for satoru to take, to haul himself up—if he so chooses. a tease and a test of suguru's own design.]
You swear that, when you return, you will neither harm Mimiko or Nanako, nor bring them to the school against their will.
[When Satoru was younger, he took a lot for granted.
Raised to be the strongest from the moment he opened his Six Eyes, his identity as the most important member of the Gojo clan — and future most important sorcerer of all the clans — was all he had. It was all that mattered. Everyone else was just there, either to help or try (and fail) to hinder. He was used to getting everything he could possibly want but nothing that he truly needed, and it affected his view of the world around him.
And then he went to school and met Suguru.
Suguru was the only one who stood up to him — the only one capable of holding his own against him. He was the only one who had the gall to chide him for his behavior, and the only one who didn't judge him for his vulnerabilities. Suguru was his one and only best friend — and Satoru believed he would always be there.
Satoru took him for granted. Despite his Six Eyes and all the power at his disposal — despite all his training to truly become the strongest, so that he would never repeat his failures in fighting against Toji Fushiguro — he didn't see what he needed to see most. And while that singular mistake would set the foundation for his future plans — while it would force him to grow up and do something about the state of jujutsu society — it cost him the single, most important person in his life.
Now, looking at the hand that is extended to him and then meeting Suguru's eyes, Satoru sees him. Suguru can breeze through the formal words and cover his pauses all he wants, but Satoru knows where and how to look. He doesn't make the same mistake.
And he knows that this isn't easy. He knows that he is putting Suguru in a box to which Suguru would not return if he had other options — a deal he would have rejected, if Satoru would not promise to keep two teenage girls safe. He knows that this vow costs more than mere words; it costs the values and beliefs that Suguru built up around himself when he saw jujutsu society for what it was.
For all that is broken between them, for all that Suguru's death is on his hands, for all that Suguru thought about killing him or taking his eyes or partnering up with Sukuna — he sees Suguru. More than the curse user. More than his deeds.
And he sees himself, extending his hand and setting it atop Suguru's with a thin layer of Infinity between them. He sees himself taking too big a risk, making dangerous promises, and setting himself up for an inevitability at the end of this binding vow. He sees himself handing over small truths, little pieces of himself in the form of honesty, that Suguru will take and hold close, and eventually turn against him. Satoru sees himself giving in to his only weakness yet again.
But he's learned his lesson about taking Suguru for granted. As he hoists himself up with his Infinity between their palms, he decides to give Suguru something he should have long ago: a supportive touch. A gesture, to show that for all that is marred between them, for all that they will likely end up hurting each other in the end — he sees, and he knows.
Before their cursed energy binds them together, Satoru stands and allows Suguru into his Infinity. Their palms meet, skin to skin, and Satoru clasps his hand. He steps closer, leaning in until his forehead barely brushes against Suguru's.
He says:]
I swear.
[Never one to respect lines in the sand or decorum of any kind, Satoru steps right across Suguru's boundary with a tease and a test —
[touching someone without actually touching them is—there is a disconnect? a misfire in the brain as one registers the contact that does not exist. suguru sees satoru's fingers fold over his own; suguru sees the sliver of space between their hands, so thin as to be nonexistent—and yet there is only weight. pressure. the discomfort that is holding onto something that simply is not there.
it doesn't matter that suguru expected this, just as it doesn't matter that this is far from the first time suguru has experienced this. there is something off—wrong—about touching satoru without touching him at all, because it serves as yet another measure of how everything between them has changed. suguru, despite himself, remembers what it was like to be allowed in.
he does not expect satoru to let him in once more.
but satoru at his best, as suguru knows, is satoru breaking the rules, testing the limits, pushing the boundaries—so how quintessentially him, really, to allow suguru in when suguru least expects it? to allow suguru a moment—just a moment—to process the warmth of his skin, the ease with which their hands fit together, before he takes it that much further, leaning into suguru's space with no hesitation whatsoever. as though this closeness is his right.
suguru should take this as a warning, of sorts. a gentle reminder that he has no way to keep satoru at bay—except that it wouldn't matter if he did. he knows this. satoru would always, always, find a way through, not because he is the strongest—but because after all of these years, he remains the one thing suguru can't let go.
and that's what makes satoru so very dangerous. techniques can be accounted for, planned around; emotions, however, cannot, as evidenced by the way suguru's chest tightens as he holds satoru's gaze. what would he have done ten years ago? step on satoru's toes? kiss the corner of satoru's mouth in the hopes of flustering him? suguru wonders, briefly, if such a trick would still work—but the thought leaves him as a sigh, so soft it's almost impossible to hear. what matters now is the prickle of satoru's cursed energy, a sensation every bit as familiar as satoru's touch. that is what suguru should focus on; that is where suguru should direct his full attention.
but while suguru's eyes do drop to their hands, noting that sliver of space which no longer exists, leans infinitesimally closer? not quite willing to match satoru's daring; unable to resist satoru's pull. some things never change.]
I swear.
[a binding vow is such a simple thing, in theory. suguru speaks the words and allows his cursed energy to mingle with satoru's, a sort of push-and-pull that is all that is required to lock them into an entirely new form of coexistence—but as suguru looks back up at satoru, he thinks of the complexities. binding vow or no, they do not fit together as easily as they once did.
and that is what sends suguru pulling away, after lingering for a second longer: the thought that they could. maybe.]
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and above that, beyond that, suguru remembers satoru at the end, telling him that his family escaped. it could have been a lie; suguru knew it wasn't, and thus suguru felt something akin to gratitude, in those last moments of his life—but nothing is fair. even if satoru were to continue bending the rules, others wouldn't; someone would inevitably attempt (or be instructed) to pick off members of suguru's family, a cowardly attempt to weaken him, and would they show mercy? how many deaths would the higher-ups deem necessary; how many sorcerers would they be willing to lose?
or: the twisted calculus that is suguru's plans, suguru's logic—what suguru wants, in the end, is what is best for his family. the girls. even if he wanted to believe that satoru would never hurt them, given that satoru has purposely turned a blind eye—even if he knows that satoru would never hurt them without cause—satoru still represents the world suguru detests. satoru remains a threat.
and yet satoru is also a hope.
...maybe this is what death does to a person? forces them to reconsider and reorganize their priorities, because while suguru does not intend to die for a second, suguru never intended to die at all. he left his family adrift at sea, with some members, he's certain, climbing over one another to reach the lifeboats—but he knows the girls' loyalty. he knows what they will choose, if he can't find a way back to them, and he thinks this person stretched out on the grass will provide a better option.
so suguru holds satoru's hidden gaze, for a time. relying on the familiar weight of it.]
They won't like it, [he confirms, thinking of the fuss they're sure to make, the trouble they're sure to cause,] but you can convince them. [well—] Eventually. They know who you were.
[were. a choice—but suguru doesn't linger on it, his smile shrinking as he is caught between two realities: satoru, the sorcerer, and satoru, the person. one suguru does not trust; one suguru trusts above so many others, when it comes to that which is most important.
nothing is fair.
quietly, then, and every bit as serious as satoru is trying not to be:]
Don't take them back.
[suguru doesn't need to say where, surely; satoru should know.]
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But he keeps that question to himself.
The initial request itself is a large ask. For Satoru to keep his promise not to hurt the girls, he has to make sure they don't follow in Suguru's footsteps. He has to turn them away from life as curse users and undo what he assumes Suguru taught them. He has to try to convince them of his plan for change.
And he has to promise to do so without knowing the state of the world, since he was trapped in the prison realm before boarding this train.
It'll be challenging, but not impossible. They won't be the first kids that Satoru has helped steer in the right direction, even if they will likely be the most difficult — and even though they'll probably (rightfully) look at him as Suguru's killer. He won't get a free pass with them as he did with Megumi, but Satoru isn't the only one who can help them. His students have a knack for integrating outsiders into their group.
But it's the second part of the request — the part he knew was coming — that makes this promise all the more complicated.]
You'd make me swear to that?
[It would be in their best interests to go to the school. To make friends with sorcerers their age. To learn that they don't have to be left behind. To keep them alive, and to keep them from making the same mistakes as Suguru.
What is he supposed to do with two girls who won't fit in with normal human society, but that he's bound to keep out of jujutsu society as a whole? What kind of future is there for them, when they're so trapped, being a curse user will seem like their only option forward?
Satoru can't make a case for the alternative, because to explain that there are some powerful students in his care would put them on Suguru's radar. He can't describe his plans for upsetting jujutsu society as a whole, because Suguru will know to strike when change is in air and the hierarchy is weak. He can't promise that the girls won't get hurt if they do go to the school, because that's an impossible vow to keep.
He groans, covering his face with his arm again.]
Fine! Fine. I won't take them there. But if they choose to go on their own, I'm not gonna stop them.
[And it's possible they will, in time. If they do truly come to trust Satoru. If it really is possible that he can convince them to turn their backs on the path that he failed to convince Suguru to leave, all those years ago.]
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but suguru did not free the girls from one cage just to shove them into another. they deserve their freedom.
and their freedom is why, as satoru drops his arm back over his half-hidden face, suguru takes satoru's words in stride. this was something he'd accounted for, of course. the possibility that, if left in satoru's care, the girls may grow curious, may decide to follow satoru back to the school—and this is nothing as simple as, say, the girls demanding to visit some monkey-owned sweets shop. choosing to attend the school would be turning their backs on all that suguru taught them.
it isn't what suguru wants for them, no. he doesn't want the girls caught up in the marathon that is sorcery, risking their lives for those who will never understand—but it would be their choice. their choice. if they are to survive, they must find meaning in the world without him.
(and wouldn't he be partially to blame, in the end? honesty was telling the girls why he hated the system he chose to leave—but also answering their questions about the people caught within it. the people he'd once cared for.)]
If that's what they choose, [he agrees, some of the tension easing from his shoulders as he thinks of how stubborn they are? of the two of them following him after a family meeting, walking side-by-side in the shelter of his shadow. master geto, master geto—] They've always made their own decisions. I trust them.
[he does. their commitment is unquestionable, which he's sure will frustrate satoru to no end—and for a moment, just a moment, satoru thinks of other things he wishes he could demand of satoru. don't act like a child when you argue with them; they'll never respect you. never leave money with nanako; she has a sweet tooth to rival yours. always, always, treat them well. remember that i cared for them.
now, however, it's suguru's turn to close his eyes? the briefest break before he cracks them open once more, knowing that demanding satoru never kill him would have rendered this entire topic obsolete—but suguru knows his worth, and suguru knows his limits. so, simply:]
That's all.
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But now, lying on the ground and listening to Suguru speak, Satoru understands just how long a decade truly is. Long enough for Suguru to establish a family in more than mere name. Long enough for him to love two girls enough to respect their ability to make their own decisions. Long enough for Suguru to sound less a curse user and more a parent.
Long enough the chasm between them to grow so wide that they need a binding vow to cross it.
Satoru shifts his arm, opens his eyes, and looks at the shape of the trees above him.]
Honesty. And two teenage girls.
[He laughs because it sounds so simple, framed like that. But honesty is a risk, and two teenage girls are a complicated lifelong investment.
But they're important to Suguru. That much is clear.
And Satoru is still tired. The nap and the apple have taken the edge off, but there's no telling how much longer they'll be on this train. A train that has the power to steal his techniques, hide his eyes, and trap the King of Curses in here with him. Suguru isn't asking for too much, considering what he is sacrificing by aligning himself with Satoru. He hasn't requested a future pardon or to be given free reign upon their escape, demands that Satoru would easily turn down.
His requests are reasonable, and while Satoru wouldn't have expected Suguru to make all manner of ridiculous demands, the knowledge that he would temper his desires to this degree exacerbates that heavy feeling in his chest. Given the opportunity to ask for anything, Suguru has shown that he boils down to one clear desire: the protection of two girls.
There is still goodness within Suguru, no matter how twisted and warped it has become. And that is why, even now, that small spark of trust still exists within Satoru.
It's why he agrees.]
Good stuff.
[He weighs these requests against the time frame of a while, and says, his voice a little muffled by his sleeve:]
Until we find the exit.
[Rather than holding Suguru to his vow until they succeed in their escape, Satoru decides to draw the finish line right before they leave. That way, should Suguru choose to act against him or otherwise return to his path, they can resolve matters here, instead of bringing another problem back home with them.]
Deal?
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but if anyone knows that suguru is far from untouchable, it's satoru.
and as uncomfortable as it is to be reminded that he is vulnerable, suguru thinks that maybe, just maybe, satoru is uncomfortable, too. it must be odd, being confronted with—or reminded of—the fact that an enemy is a person? that suguru severed old ties to forge new ones, establishing a new routine, a new life, that satoru is only allowed into when it all comes crashing down. satoru, left to pick up the pieces. suguru knows this is selfish.
this, however, remains his price, which he knows satoru will pay; it's simply a matter of how long satoru expects him to cooperate in return, which—well. until we find the exit. suguru stills for a moment, considering opportunities, risks—
—before offering a barely audible hum.]
Deal.
[how many times have they done this? made "deals," albeit of a far more lighthearted nature. this casual approach is nostalgic when it absolutely shouldn't be—and yet, as suguru watches satoru do nothing at all, suguru feels that bitterness just barely give way, allowing something akin to fondness to make its presence known.
...how odd. how exhausting. when this is over, suguru will need to find somewhere quiet and satoru-free to recuperate.]
You could at least sit up for this, you know.
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But a binding vow is as it is labeled: binding. A sealing of a promise with cursed energy, the violation of which leads to significant penalties. It's a big deal. For Satoru Gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in generations, to make a binding vow with anyone is an even bigger deal. Making it with an enemy is huge.
Which is why Satoru drags his feet.]
We don't have to treat this as seriously as the geezers do.
[Meaning the higher-ups, who follow all sorts of rituals in the creation of binding vows. Those traditions are boring and unnecessary, when all he and Suguru need to do initiating the binding of their cursed energy.
But it's an empty protest. He's already moving, though he takes his time in complying — stretching his arm above his head, rubbing his eyes through his blindfold, and then slowly working himself up into a casual sitting position.]
You do the honors.
[Of stating the terms in full, since Suguru has always been better at formalities than Satoru. Meanwhile, Satoru will tug down his blindfold to watch and ensure the binding successfully takes.
And to look at Suguru as he gives up his freedom to work alongside him once more.]
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and yet the simplest things often prove the most insidious, somehow slipping through cracks that should not exist. they make it easy to remember, to miss, to mourn the way things used to be; they make suguru want to step closer to satoru when he should be taking three steps back, and that's dangerous, so dangerous. for both of them. neither of them can afford to let the other in.
so while they wouldn't have needed to treat this so seriously, once upon a time? while they wouldn't have needed to make this vow at all? now they need to draw this line in the sand—which is why, as satoru makes a show of sitting up, suguru calmly plucks the seed from his lap, slipping it into his robes before he purposely, pointedly, pushes himself to his feet. satoru allowing suguru to take the reins is—well. it would have been par for the course, a decade back; now it feels like a tease and a test, twisted together.
it's fine. suguru does not intend to rock the boat at this stage, and so, coolly calmly:]
Until we find a way off this train, I, Suguru Geto, swear to work alongside you. I swear to abide by the rules and regulations of a jujutsu sorcerer.
[which still burns? threatens to stick in his throat, honestly, but he pushes past it with feigned ease, eyes betraying nothing as they fall to satoru's.]
And you, Satoru Gojo, swear to be honest.
[the briefest pause, then, as suguru considers how to word the most pressing part of this arrangement—but it's nothing. a barely noticeable break as he holds out his right hand, palm facing upward, for satoru to take, to haul himself up—if he so chooses. a tease and a test of suguru's own design.]
You swear that, when you return, you will neither harm Mimiko or Nanako, nor bring them to the school against their will.
[so formal. so important.]
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Raised to be the strongest from the moment he opened his Six Eyes, his identity as the most important member of the Gojo clan — and future most important sorcerer of all the clans — was all he had. It was all that mattered. Everyone else was just there, either to help or try (and fail) to hinder. He was used to getting everything he could possibly want but nothing that he truly needed, and it affected his view of the world around him.
And then he went to school and met Suguru.
Suguru was the only one who stood up to him — the only one capable of holding his own against him. He was the only one who had the gall to chide him for his behavior, and the only one who didn't judge him for his vulnerabilities. Suguru was his one and only best friend — and Satoru believed he would always be there.
Satoru took him for granted. Despite his Six Eyes and all the power at his disposal — despite all his training to truly become the strongest, so that he would never repeat his failures in fighting against Toji Fushiguro — he didn't see what he needed to see most. And while that singular mistake would set the foundation for his future plans — while it would force him to grow up and do something about the state of jujutsu society — it cost him the single, most important person in his life.
Now, looking at the hand that is extended to him and then meeting Suguru's eyes, Satoru sees him. Suguru can breeze through the formal words and cover his pauses all he wants, but Satoru knows where and how to look. He doesn't make the same mistake.
And he knows that this isn't easy. He knows that he is putting Suguru in a box to which Suguru would not return if he had other options — a deal he would have rejected, if Satoru would not promise to keep two teenage girls safe. He knows that this vow costs more than mere words; it costs the values and beliefs that Suguru built up around himself when he saw jujutsu society for what it was.
For all that is broken between them, for all that Suguru's death is on his hands, for all that Suguru thought about killing him or taking his eyes or partnering up with Sukuna — he sees Suguru. More than the curse user. More than his deeds.
And he sees himself, extending his hand and setting it atop Suguru's with a thin layer of Infinity between them. He sees himself taking too big a risk, making dangerous promises, and setting himself up for an inevitability at the end of this binding vow. He sees himself handing over small truths, little pieces of himself in the form of honesty, that Suguru will take and hold close, and eventually turn against him. Satoru sees himself giving in to his only weakness yet again.
But he's learned his lesson about taking Suguru for granted. As he hoists himself up with his Infinity between their palms, he decides to give Suguru something he should have long ago: a supportive touch. A gesture, to show that for all that is marred between them, for all that they will likely end up hurting each other in the end — he sees, and he knows.
Before their cursed energy binds them together, Satoru stands and allows Suguru into his Infinity. Their palms meet, skin to skin, and Satoru clasps his hand. He steps closer, leaning in until his forehead barely brushes against Suguru's.
He says:]
I swear.
[Never one to respect lines in the sand or decorum of any kind, Satoru steps right across Suguru's boundary with a tease and a test —
and one final measure of trust.]
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it doesn't matter that suguru expected this, just as it doesn't matter that this is far from the first time suguru has experienced this. there is something off—wrong—about touching satoru without touching him at all, because it serves as yet another measure of how everything between them has changed. suguru, despite himself, remembers what it was like to be allowed in.
he does not expect satoru to let him in once more.
but satoru at his best, as suguru knows, is satoru breaking the rules, testing the limits, pushing the boundaries—so how quintessentially him, really, to allow suguru in when suguru least expects it? to allow suguru a moment—just a moment—to process the warmth of his skin, the ease with which their hands fit together, before he takes it that much further, leaning into suguru's space with no hesitation whatsoever. as though this closeness is his right.
suguru should take this as a warning, of sorts. a gentle reminder that he has no way to keep satoru at bay—except that it wouldn't matter if he did. he knows this. satoru would always, always, find a way through, not because he is the strongest—but because after all of these years, he remains the one thing suguru can't let go.
and that's what makes satoru so very dangerous. techniques can be accounted for, planned around; emotions, however, cannot, as evidenced by the way suguru's chest tightens as he holds satoru's gaze. what would he have done ten years ago? step on satoru's toes? kiss the corner of satoru's mouth in the hopes of flustering him? suguru wonders, briefly, if such a trick would still work—but the thought leaves him as a sigh, so soft it's almost impossible to hear. what matters now is the prickle of satoru's cursed energy, a sensation every bit as familiar as satoru's touch. that is what suguru should focus on; that is where suguru should direct his full attention.
but while suguru's eyes do drop to their hands, noting that sliver of space which no longer exists, leans infinitesimally closer? not quite willing to match satoru's daring; unable to resist satoru's pull. some things never change.]
I swear.
[a binding vow is such a simple thing, in theory. suguru speaks the words and allows his cursed energy to mingle with satoru's, a sort of push-and-pull that is all that is required to lock them into an entirely new form of coexistence—but as suguru looks back up at satoru, he thinks of the complexities. binding vow or no, they do not fit together as easily as they once did.
and that is what sends suguru pulling away, after lingering for a second longer: the thought that they could. maybe.]