Chapter Text
The strongest sorceror of the modern age had died.
Gojo Satoru lost.
It was an unnerving revelation, rendering most sorcerers hopeless. The power dynamics between humanity and curses had shifted yet again: the outcome of battle was now inconclusive. Many still believed that Okkotsu Yuta would pull through as the new strongest sorceror of the modern age, but Gojo could care less. Selfish of him, indeed. But then again, he had died, so he couldn’t do anything even if he wanted to.
When he reopened his eyes, he no longer felt the thrumming cursed energy them constantly eating away at his energy. He didn’t feel the infinity between matter and him. He no longer felt the weight on his back he had gained after achieving his godlike title. He soon realized– he had no cursed energy in him. Gojo was now ordinary.
He didn’t know how he felt about this new finding.
“Yo, Satoru. It’s been a while.”
This was probably the happiest moment Gojo experienced in his short, yet long, 28 years of life.
There was Geto Suguru, in all his teenage glory, sitting beside him as if Gojo hadn’t killed him an year ago. To be frank, Gojo didn’t expect to see Suguru here in the afterlife with him. Logically speaking, this could just be Gojo’s subconcious taking him back to the person he cared most for and a period of his life that he wished to go back to. However, Gojo found himself leaning on his heart for once. He pushed all logic to the back of his head and focused completely on the man sitting beside him.
“How long are you gonna gape at me like that?” Suguru asked with his familiar light chuckle.
Satoru didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry at that. But crying in front of Suguru felt a tad bit embarrasing, regardless of what they had been through, so he settled for letting out an incredulous laugh instead.
“You see me after a whole year and that’s all you have to say?” Satoru asked giggling but he still felt the burn of hot tears behind his now ordinary blue eyes.
“Ugh please could you not do this bullshit when we’re here?” A familiar gruff voice.
“Woah Nanami, didn’t expect to see you here!” Satoru exclaimed peeking behind himself and beaming at the two boys sitting next to each other.
“I literally died before you.”
“Yeah that was quite a shock, Nanami! I didn’t expect you of all people to die in battle. Wouldn’t you agree, Haibara?” Satoru questioned, causing Haibara to sputter.
The banter filled Satoru with life that he thought he lost ten years ago, figuratively speaking.
“Why are you looking at us like that?”
Satoru blinked, “Like what?” He asked sounding puzzled but unable to control the growing warmth inside him at the sight of his schoolmates all sitting together like the good old days.
He felt a genuine smile spread across his face, an expression he had forgotten he could make.
“Ugh, you’re giving me the creeps Gojo-san. Keep that look for Geto-san. We don’t want any of your weird affection.”
“What!? Speak for yourself Nanami, I would love to recieve Gojo-senpai’s affection!” Haibara huffed then sneakily added, “Especially if it would mean free treats from a senpai to his kouhai!”
Gojo laughed lightly and ruffled both their heads, “Still as opportunistic as ever I see, Haibara. And Nanami’s still as emo and grumpy as always.”
With an amazingly pissed off expression, Nanami was really close to finally snapping and breaking his senpai’s neck. Suguru intervened before that tragedy could happen, though, “Now, now. Not that it’s wonderful to see Nanami’s futile attempts at slaughtering Satoru, but don’t we have more pressing matters to address?”
All three of them collectively blinked at Suguru, “Like what?” The scene invoked a sense of nostalgia within Satoru and that familiar warmth spread again inside his hollow chest.
Suguru huffed in exasperation, “Like your feelings after dying, you dumbasses.”
“I feel relieved.” Satoru said immediately, surprising everyone and himself. Well, they were just fragments of his memories and he is already dead so he might as well come clean.
Satoru layed out his heart bare in front of them and told them his concerns, his circumstances, his inner turmoil, everything. And he had never felt as liberated before. The other three did the same and suddenly Satoru wondered if this was like a group therapy session.
“But then, who’s the therapist?”
Satoru rolled his eyes, “Me, obviously.”
Nanami scrutinized him, “You, Mr. Traumatized since childhood?”
“Okay, to be fair, I think I’m the most reasonable bet here,” Suguru claimed.
“For sure, Mr. Killed a whole fucking village because of poor anger issues management,” Satoru said, rolling his eyes.
“I think we can all agree that, emotionally, Haibara’s probably the most mature out of all of us.”
“That was pretty mature of you to admit, Nanami.”
“What about Shoko? D’you think she’s therapist material?” Satoru wondered.
“No way, she would encourage you to do whatever fucked up plan you’re planning. Trust me, I speak from experience.” Suguru sighed.
“Yeah, with those bags under her eyes, she probably needs therapy too.”
Satoru grinned as their bickering and bantering continued till sunset, “So… what now? Do we just sit here till God decides it’s time for us to reincarnate or whatever bullshit?”
“You’re telling me I’m stuck with Gojo Satoru till I get reincarnated?!”
“Hey, you should consider this heaven since you’re able to spend afterlife with me!”
“No, but why are we even here together? Like, if we’re being real, me and Haibara are the only ones remotely qualified to stay in heaven.”
Suguru raises an eyebrow, “And what makes you say that?”
Nanami looks at him as if he lost his mind, “Because you attempted mass genocide and Gojo-san is a menace to society? It’s so obvious.”
“Hey! I’m actually gonna beat you up if you keep saying shit about me, Nanami!” Satoru said, crossing his arms across his chest and pulling his lips into a pout.
“Okay, but seriously, what the hell do we do now?”
“Uh… I don’t know, sleep?”
“Well then!” Satoru unceremoniously plopped himself down on Suguru’s lap, “Let’s sleep!”
“Seriously, Satoru?” Suguru peered incredulously down at him.
Satoru raised an eyebrow and pulled his lips into a lazy grin, “What? My neck and back will hurt if I sleep while sitting.”
Suguru just sighed and leaned back in his seat, “Whatever you say…”
All four soon drifted off to sleep. If Satoru was being honest, he was happy he died. It didn’t mean that Satoru actively wanted to not live when he was still alive and breathing. In fact, Satoru could rarely be angry at the world. After all, it was such a beautiful place to live in. He understood the beauty of birth– and of death. That is why Satoru barely had any resentment towards the world.
The one thing he did regret, however, was the deaths of people he wanted to protect and Megumi’s possession. If anything, he wanted them to live good, healthy lives since they were good people. He knows that Megumi is drowning in despair upon killing his own sister. Nanami was the one person he thought would definitely survive, because he couldn’t bare to see someone as honest and kind as him dying. He knows for a fact that Yuji is cursing at himself and blaming himself for what happened, and he hates that.
Satoru mentally snorts, So much for being the untouchable and cold strongest sorceror, huh.
Throb
His eyes begin to hurt. Satoru shifts uncomfortably on Suguru’s lap. His eyes burned as if someone had poured hot acid over them. He shifted and brought his hands to his eyes when the burning sensation didn’t subside. He tried opening them, but as soon as the smallest fraction of light seeped in, the pain increased tremendously, causing him to scratch at his eyes, nearly gouging them out.
And then, it ceased.
‘Bearer of the Six Eyes, you have seen the course of events as it has played out. Now, will you let Fate guide you to the same end? Or will you alter destiny itself? We look forward to seeing what path you’ll take, O Honored One.’
His eyes flew open and he jerked up with a start, wheezing and sweating buckets.
This place looked different from where he was with Suguru and the others earlier. Satoru’s eyes scanned his surroundings: Wooden floors, a small window near him, a shelf filled with game CDs, and a soft pillow where Suguru’s legs were supposed to be. This place looked awfully similar to his dorm room back when he attended Jujutsu High.
Satoru regained his composure as his breathing evened out. He must have stubbornly stayed asleep when the others tried to wake him up. They must have moved him to this room.
But, why couldn’t he see them anywhere?
Panic seeped through his veins.
No.
They shouldn’t be far away. They must have gone to fetch something.
Right. He isn’t alone. They didn’t go away. They’re right here with Satoru, just like they’ve always been–
“Oh hey, you’re finally awake,” Shoko’s voice finally snapped him out of his onslought of a panick attack as she made her way from the door to Satoru’s bed.
Satoru blinked dumbly, “Shoko, did you die too?”
The woman in question raised her eyebrow and surveyed Satoru as if he had gone crazy, “What crazy bullshit are you spouting? The only person who died here was you. And then you healed yourself with Reversed Cursed Technique, remember?”
What?
“…Oi, do you have amnesia or something? Tell me the last thing you remember,” She said pulling a wooden chair beside his bed.
“…Suguru, Nanami, Haibara, and I were… dead, and… we met in the afterlife… we chatted and then we fell asleep…”
“What kind of weirdass dream did you have? Also, since when did you use ‘boku’? Did Suguru’s preaching finally get to you or something?”
What?
“Oi, Gojo, stop spacing out on me.”
Throb
Satoru winced and clutched his eyes under his hands, “Oh right, your eyes must be sensitive. Here, take your glasses,” She held out her hand, on top of which Satoru’s pitch black shades rested. He reached out to swipe them off her hands only to flinch in realization.
He can sense cursed energy.
No, he has cursed energy.
Satoru could feel it running through his veins.
But that’s wrong. He’s dead. He shouldn’t feel any cursed energy.
“…Shoko, what happened to me?” He muttered, surprising even himself with the stability of his voice.
Shoko stared at him and then back at her outstretched hand, which still had the stupidly expensive black sunglasses sitting on top of them. She sighed and helped Satoru wear them, “…As I said, you fought Zenin Toji. You died. You used Reversed Curse Technique to heal yourself, and then you came back to life. But because of the amount of cursed energy you used to heal your wounds – which were really really bad, by the way – and the energy you used during your fight with Toji, you collapsed after bringing back Amanai Riko’s body. Do you remember any of this?”
Oh yeah. He remembers. Satoru remembers every detail of the events Shoko described. He also remembers it happening ten years ago.
Oblivious to Satoru’s inner turmoil, Shoko continued, “Suguru nearly broke his bones trying to catch both your and Amanai’s body, you know. The poor guy had just been healed too. Y’know, you guys should really just save us this ridiculous pining and get–“
“What is the date today, Shoko?”
“Wow, rude.”
“Shoko, please.”
“It’s May 25th.”
“Year?”
Shoko gave him a look, no doubt confused out of her mind, “2006.”
2006, Satoru repeated in his head.
“But Shoko, that doesn’t make any sense. It’s supposed to be 2018, right now!”
A beat of silence and then, “…Okaay, let’s pretend that it’s ‘supposed’ to be 2018 right now, for you at least. Are you saying you’re from the future?”
“I would laugh at that, but it seems like the only plausible option left. Unless, I’m in some sort of illusion or domain. But if that were the case, my Six Eyes would definitely tell me about that.”
Shoko hummed casually. If she was pretending to believe even a fourth of what Satoru claimed, she wasn’t doing a very good job of it. “Right, so do you wanna go back to the timeline where you’re supposedly ‘dead’?”
“Well yeah, obviously.”
Shoko raised an eyebrow, “I never took you to be suicidal. Most people would fix their mistakes or live life again so that they don’t have any regrets.”
“I mean, you’re altering the natural course of life and death…” But didn’t that weird voice thing tell him he could change his ‘fate’? Even if Satoru’s ending was the same, wouldn’t he be able to give a second chance to those who desperately wanted to live? Yuji would never have to deal with the burden or sorrow of housing the king of curses, Tsumiki and Haibara would still be alive, and maybe he could prevent Suguru from becoming a mass-murdering sociopath.
Satoru ran his hand through his hair and sighed in exasperation, “Ahh fuck it. Fuck all this ‘natural law’ bullshit. It’s not like I know how to go back anyways, so I might as well save all your sorry asses while I’m at it.”
Shoko smirked with a hand on her hip, “There we go, that’s the arrogant, prideful bastard I know. Thought I lost you there for a second.” She put out her cigarette and held her hand up in front of Satoru, “Welcome back, asshole.”
“It’s good to be back, bitch,” Satoru said, meeting her half-way with a matching grin of his own.