Chapter Text
The sky above their heads was such a bright shade of cerulean blue it was almost unbearable as Suguru, Satoru, and Shouko stared at the crater in the ground containing the remains of what had been the mansion Utahime and Mei Mei had been sent to investigate. It was so bright, in fact, that Satoru kept pushing his heavily tinted sunglasses up when he thought his friends weren’t looking, eyes squinting from the photosensitivity. It wasn’t an especially scorching hot day, but blotches of red were already forming in his paper-white skin, and Suguru assumed he hadn’t put on sunscreen.
Shouko was smoking a cigarette, the smell of smoke making Satoru wrinkle his nose. He was way past the stage of pettily coughing the second she pulled out a lighter, but the white-haired boy was too persistent to give up his scowl. Shouko was also past the stage of giving a single shit about what Satoru thought of her habits.
“Holy shit, is that Utahime under the rubble?” she asked, piping up and pushing the cigarette to the side of her mouth to be able to speak without it falling from her glossy lips.
Suguru squinted, and indeed, he saw a head of black haired, with the distinctive purple hue, popping up from below a pile of concrete. She would be pissed, and this would consequently put Satoru in a good mood. Suguru smiled, as the three of them rushed forward to reach her and Mei Mei.
“I’m here to save you!” said Satoru, scowl evaporating as soon as he saw the opening to tease Utahime. He smiled at her, with his cat-like demeanor, expecting praise after doing absolutely nothing.
As Utahime stood up, a bead of sweat fell from her forehead, coating her cheek with its trail.
Satoru tilted his head, grin widening and hair falling over his eyes, protecting them from the harsh light of the sun. “You crying?”
The reaction was immediate, and Suguru couldn’t help but smile too as he made his way down to her.
“No, I’m not crying! Be more polite, you—” Utahime was cut off by Mei Mei.
“If I was crying, would you console me?” she asked, returning a smirk that matched Satoru’s. “I’d definitely like that.”
Suguru knew, of course, that Satoru wouldn’t really—Mei Mei creeped both of them out when she flirted so shamelessly with Satoru, who was sixteen and a minor, while she herself was twenty-one and an adult. But they were also smart enough to know it wasn’t a good idea to confront her about it.
“Oh, but you wouldn’t cry, Mei Mei, you’re too strong for that,” the young sorcerer joked as he ignored Utahime grunting in annoyance.
“Is that so—”
This time, it was Mei Mei getting cut off by Utahime. Suguru smiled with complicity when he saw the familiar glint of mischief in his best friend’s eye that appeared whenever he got his way.
“GOJO, YOU LISTEN TO ME! I don’t need your help!”
The loud rumble of a curse emerging from the remains of the mansion startled all of them, and Suguru felt his stomach protest when he realized he’d probably have to eat this vaguely humanoid, yellow eyed beast. He quickly summoned a cursed spirit to immobilize it, and prevent more useless waste of his friends’ energy,
“Don’t swallow it. I’ll absorb it later,” he commanded as he walked back up the stairs to his friend. Poor Utahime, interrupted once more, was seething with rage, and Suguru just had to fuel her rage. “Satoru, it’s not good to pick on the weak,” he scolded him with a grin on his face
A scream of unadulterated anger reached his ears.
“Okay, but what kind of idiot picks on the strong?”
Mei Mei chuckled. “You’re the one fanning the flames, Getou.”
Just when Utahime looked like she was going to actually, physically, literally, explode, the soothing voice of Shouko reached her ears.
“Utahime! Are you okay? I was so worried about you!” she said, once more pushing her cigarette out of the way as she reached out for her friend. “We hadn’t heard from you for two days!”
“Shouko!” Utahime whined, as she hugged her friend. A content smile spread through her lips. “Shouko, don’t let yourself turn out like those two!” she spat as Shouko chuckled.
“Don’t worry, I’m not trash like they are,” she said with affection dripping from her words. “I never will be.”
Satoru didn’t react to Shouko’s comment, instead turning back to Suguru—still walking up the stairs, hands locked behind his back. “Hey, don’t let yourself turn out like Utahime.”
“Aah, shut up,” he replied, his heart clenching as he gazed into his friend’s face. In moments like these, it was hard to imagine a happier life, despite everything.
“Wait—two days?” inquired Utahime, breaking Suguru’s immersion.
Satoru piped up. “Hm. Do you think the cursed spirit’s barrier was one of those that messes with time?”
It wasn’t a very common phenomenon, as time manipulation itself would immediately place one as a special grade. The explanation was that, the more a cursed technique could manipulate space, the more it could warp time—Physics classes were mandatory in Jujutsu High, especially because they had Gojou Satoru in their class. Of course, having a spatial manipulation technique, he could eventually master time manipulation, as manipulating space was basically exercising gravity upon something and gravity was quantically bound to time, blah, blah, blah. As if Satoru needed any more power.
“They’re rare, but they do happen every now and then. Now that I think about it, it is odd that it would take you two days, seeing that Mei Mei was with you,” he continued.
“That would make sense,” the aforementioned said, head tilted in concentration. “And actually, that means this mission took two full days of labor, so I was thinking about how I’ll rewrite the invoice for extra fees now owed to me.”
“She’s planning to overcharge again,” Utahime snarled.
Suguru had to contain a sigh. Of course she was.
“Now, more importantly—what about the veil?”
The three friends froze in place, both Suguru and Shouko’s gazes immediately shooting at Satoru.
“You know, Satoru, is there really a use to being the strongest if you’re this dumb?”
☾☀︎
Yaga’s voice was stern and angry as he scolded them. “You three were supposed to oversee the mission at that home. Also, you left your assistant supervisor behind. And, on top of that, you forgot the veil.” He paused, scanning their tense faces. “Now, who’s to blame?”
Neither himself or Shouko hesitated to point at Satoru, who in turn raised his hand and his voice. “Yaga-sensei! I’m asking you to stop the hunt for the culprit!” he said, like a clown. Might as well have tattooed “I FORGOT TO CAST A VEIL” on his forehead, though Suguru didn’t doubt Yaga already knew it was Satoru.
“So it was you,” he said, not an ounce of surprise in his tone, and Suguru had to bite his bottom lip to avoid smiling. Satoru was in trouble, though never serious. Nobody could stay mad at him for long.
☾☀︎
Suguru thought his heart might just pop right out of his chest as he looked at his friend, sleeves pulled up, without his shades, blessing his own with the sight of the myriad of colors intertwining and seemingly changing and merging, always with the same ethereal, trance-inducing, supernatural shine to it. He was throwing the basketball up and catching it in his hands without even looking, with no effort.
“I mean, it’s just a veil. Is it really necessary? It’s not like it matters if normies see it, anyway. They can’t see cursed spirits or cursed techniques.”
Upon seeing Satoru was about to shoot toward the hoop, Suguru readied himself and tensed his muscles to jump in the precise moment to reach up with his arms and block it. “But it would be bad if they did. The strongest deterrent against the outbreak of a cursed spirit is the mental calm of the populace. That’s exactly why we have to conceal all of these threats,” Suguru almost felt disappointed when Shouko put Satoru’s shades back on his face, “as much as possible. To make sure they never, ever, get to see them.” Suguru dribbled, walking towards the opposite hoop. “And that’s not all, either—”
“Yeah, yeah, sure, YEAH!” Satoru exclaimed as he rapidly got up and took the ball from Suguru’s hands, running and executing a layout perfectly. The ball swished as it went through the hoop. “Looking out for the weak and protecting them is, honestly, so exhausting.”
Bullshit. Satoru was immune to exhaustion, and also had the strongest sense of duty Suguru had ever witnessed. This was just his pettiness and arrogance coming into play. He supposed it was impossible to pretend the strongest sorcerer in the last thousand years or so wouldn’t be narcissistic at times.
He had time to grow up and become fully aware of his responsibility, and Suguru vowed to stay by his side as he grew into the role of the strongest. They’d do it together.
He caught the ball directed at him. “Survival of the weakest. That’s the proper shape of a proper society. The weak help each other and discourage strength.” He paused, knowing that this structure never ceased to piss Satoru off, and knowing also, that he had valid reasons to feel defiant. No strong person chooses to be born strong, to bear the weight of knowing you probably will die protecting others. But no weak person chooses to be born weak, vulnerable, either. “Listen, Satoru, Jujutsu exists to protect non-jujutsushi.”
Suguru took a chance and shot the ball from afar, miserably missing and feeling thankful Satoru had his back turned to the hoop. Though, of course, he would see it anyway. Stupid Six Eyes.
“Hah. Moral arguments? I hate moral arguments.”
“What?”
“Assigning reasons and responsibility to strength is what those who are weak tend to do.”
The white-haired boy shot again, and this time, Suguru also didn’t have to look to know the ball passed perfectly through the hoop. He just knew from the satisfied expression in Satoru’s face
Suguru scowled. Has this guy seriously never seen Spiderman? He could seriously use some great power/great responsibility talk.
“When are you gonna quit making yourself feel better by spouting all this bullshit?” Satoru asked, putting up an unquestionable front with his self-assured smile. Suguru saw right through him, though, and he could smell the projection from far away. Seriously, Suguru didn’t know how he could stand him, sometimes, immune to self-reflection as he was.
Satoru made an exaggerated retching sound as Shouko left the gym. She was smarter than the both of them combined.
“Want to take this outside, Satoru?” he asked, frustration bubbling up his chest and obscuring the butterflies that roamed freely inside his torso whenever Satoru was in the general vicinity (so, basically, all the time.) A curse surged from behind him, a strong one, too, but he knew he didn’t have to hold back when it came to mock-fighting Satoru.
“Why, you feeling lonely?” Yeah, actually. “Go by yourself, if you want.”
The both of them leaned closer until their noses were almost touching. Suguru was a good enough actor to avoid his pupils turning into little hearts, but couldn’t avoid his heart rate spiking. Could Satoru’s Six Eyes see that?
For three seconds that felt like three hours, both boys looked into each other’s eyes with playful hostility. Blue, blue, blue.
Suddenly, Yaga burst through the door, and Suguru mourned the heat of Satoru’s body near him when they pulled apart, improvising a warm-up. “How long are you two gonna keep fooling around?” His eyes scanned the gym. “Where did Shouko go?”
“Who knows?”
“Little girl’s room?”
Yaga shot them a disapproving look, irritated at their quick succession of useless answers. “Whatever.” He sighed. “This mission is being assigned to you two anyway.”
Another mission? They had just gotten back from one! Like, today! And they had fucked it up royally, too!
Synchronized as ever, they scoffed.
“What are those faces for?”
And synchronized as ever, they both replied, with the same inflection, “Oh, nothing.”
☾☀︎
Suguru felt it was too much for them.
“Frankly, I think it’s too much for you,” said Yaga, reading his thoughts as he came to a halt. “But Tengen asked for you specifically.”
The silence surrounded them. The Star Plasma Vessel, Suguru thought, heart racing with a mix of excitement and the sting of considering himself inept for the task at hand.
“Your mission has two goals,” he continued, restarting his stroll. “The Star Plasma Vessel, Amanai Riko, is the one compatible with Tengen,” he explained as if Suguru and Satoru didn’t know. “You are to escort that girl, and erase her.”
Harsh.
“Escort some brat and then erase her?” Satoru whined, a small pout to his expression Suguru was sure classified him as a brat too. He understood though why he didn’t like the mission, as they had just had a chat about why Satoru disliked being essentially used as a human shield and weapon, but again, this was their job.
“That’s right.”
Satoru turned to Suguru, and he experienced that feeling all over again; to be perceived by Gojou Satoru.
“He’s finally gone senile!”
“It is spring,” Suguru conceded, “his head is probably full with being the next principal. All jokes aside, though—”
“That didn’t sound like a joke to me,” Yaga interjected, scolding Suguru. If he had been younger, he might’ve blushed in shame at his own blatant disrespect, but he didn’t care at this point in his life.
“Is this about renewing Tengen’s technique?” he proceeded, not acknowledging the interruption.
“Huh? What’s that?”
Yaga sighed at Satoru’s idiocy. His classmate had stayed behind, communicating through an open window for no reason whatsoever, as he could just as easily walk through the door, a mere three meters to his right.
“Hey, what’d I miss?”
“Tengen possesses the cursed technique of immortality, but not of eternal youth. Not a problem if all he did was get older,” their teacher explained, “but after his body ages past a certain point, the cursed technique begins rewriting his body. Evolution. He’ll cease to be human and become a higher form of existence.”
That sounded miserable, though Suguru.
“What’s so bad about that?” Satoru refuted, purely to contradict Yaga. “Sounds sweet.”
“According to Tengen, those who reach that state of being no longer have any free will,” Suguru explained. “It means that Tengen would cease to be Tengen as we know him. All the Jujutsu schools, the barriers that form the foundation of Jujutsu Society, the many barrier techniques of the assistant supervisors, they’re all being strengthened by Tengen, and without the aid of his power, we could hardly maintain security or clean up after the missions. In the worst case scenario, Tengen could even become a threat to mankind. That’s why, every five hundred years, he finds the new Star Plasma Vessel, someone who is compatible with him. Then he assimilates them, overwriting the information of their body.” Suguru suppressed a shiver. The thought of mismatched spirits and bodies creeped him out. “By Tengen renewing his form, he resets his cursed technique to the start, and avoids evolution.”
Satoru raised his eyebrows. “I get it now. It would be fine if he digivolved into Metal-Greymon, but we can’t have him turning into Skull-Greymon, so we help start him off from the beginning, at Koromon.”
This asshole. He had probably stopped listening the second Suguru said evolution, and had started thinking about Digimon instead. Suguru suddenly felt a strong desire to strangle him.
“What?” he quickly reconsidered, trying to stop Satoru from rambling about fucking Digimon again. “Whatever works, I guess.”
“The location of the Star Plasma Vessel has unfortunately been leaked. Right now, there’s two major groups who are simultaneously going after the young girl’s life.”
Isn’t that what we’re doing, too?
“One is the Curse User Group Q. They seek to upend Jujutsu Society with Tengen’s rampage. The other is the Star Religious Group, also known as the Time Vessel Association, who worships Tengen as a god.” Yaga paused, letting the weight of the situation sink in. “Tengen will assimilate the Star Plasma Vessel in just two days’ time. You are to protect this young girl until then, and ensure that Tengen reaches her before the others do. If you fail, the effects will ripple throughout even normal society, so put your hearts into this!”
Suguru repressed the urge to roll his eyes. Oh, this is our most dangerous mission yet, bring out the sixteen year olds!
☾☀︎
“You know, I get why Curse User Group Q would be after her,” he reflected, “but why would the Star Religious Group want to kill some young kid?”
As much as Satoru tried to act like he didn’t care, Suguru, even in his current grumpy mood, knew his best friend was deeply bothered by the situation.
“Their object of worship is the pure form of Tengen. Allowing the Star Plasma Vessel, an impurity in their minds, to blend into him, would be unforgivable.” Suguru was all-too familiar with feeling impure. “The Star Religious Group is made up of non-sorcerers, so I don’t think we need to pay them any mind. The ones we need to be wary of, though, are definitely Q.”
From the other side of the call, Suguru could hear Satoru’s dismissive smirk. “Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine. We are the strongest, after all. I mean, that’s why Tengen asked for us specifically, right?”
Suguru’s heartbeat reached dangerous levels when he heard Satoru referring to them both as the strongest. He knew, rationally, that this was just his way of complimenting his abilities without having to actually compliment his abilities, and also, to make himself feel less alone. They were both special grades, and apart from their techniques, they were both smart, but no matter how good Suguru was, there was no way he could measure up to Satoru. It sometimes made him ache with jealousy and possessiveness, to know how weak he was in comparison and how Satoru could have anyone he wanted as his best friend, and anyone he wanted as his lover, and it would eventually be impossible for Suguru not to fall behind. But for now, he had him. For now, the both of them together could be the strongest.
His silence must’ve been longer than he thought, because Satoru’s distorted voice said: “Huh? What is it?”
He swallowed forcefully as he thought of something to say and tried to calm down. “You know, Satoru, I’ve been meaning to say this for a while.” Brief pause, awful choice of words, made it sound like a fucking love confession. He had to make the second part of the sentence be as subtly insulting as possible. “I think you should really stop being so full of yourself.”
Fucking nailed it, he thought sarcastically. Could there be anything worse to say to a boy like Gojou Satoru?
“Huh?!”
The elevator door opened in front of Suguru, and he walked out, trying to un-fuck the situation and failing miserably. “Especially when you’re addressing your superiors. We might end up meeting Tengen soon,” he redirected his attention, “so you really should be more polite and humble. It would make you less threatening to the juniors, as well.”
Absolutely useless advice. Satoru? Humble? Polite? Please, Suguru knew this already. He had just exposed his cluelessness to Satoru, who huffed an ironic laugh.
“Yeah, screw that.”
“Come on, Satoru. Whatever, we’ll talk about it later.” He walked in silence until reaching Amanai Riko’s apartment.
He rang the doorbell and heard the reassuring voice of a girl before a bleep! before suddenly—
The explosion almost knocked him out of balance, but Suguru quickly invoked a curse to protect himself and stepped into the apartment. Adrenaline was flowing through his veins now, though, and he had to take a couple of deep breaths to release the tension in his chest.
“You alive?” Satoru asked him.
“I’m still breathing.”
“You think we’ll be blamed if the kid died from that?”
As if summoning her, Suguru suddenly saw a mass falling through the sky, suspiciously girl-shaped. He assumed Satoru saw her at the same time, based on his gasp.
Suguru didn’t think before jumping out the window, but when he stopped to realize what had happened, he was already in the air, and all he could do was summon a curse with wings to aid him. As the stingray-shaped coral curse appeared below him, he caught the small, child-like silhouette of Amanai in his arms, immediately feeling a surge of protectiveness over her even if she was just two years younger than him.
Suguru looked up to see a man dressed like a soldier standing in the ruins of the apartment, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Would you please stop making us stand out so much? We literally just got called out for that this morning.”
“Those uniforms,” the man shouted, “you’re sorcerers from Jujutsu High. Hand over the kid, or I’ll kill you”
Absolutely not. “Can’t quite hear you. Come closer, so we can talk,” he provoked the man.
Satoru’s voice came through the phone speaker once more. “Nice catch. That was a close one.” His friend got cut off by something, and Suguru could hear a distant voice through the phone, but it was too far for him to be able to distinguish the words. He did hear, a couple of seconds later, Satoru threatening violence upon someone.
They were in a similar situation, then. It was just Suguru versus this guy, and he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t at least a little bit excited to show off.