Please Don't Leave Me Behind
Shoko only had two real friends in this world; Satoru and Suguru.
But everything fell apart. Suguru left and Satoru pulled away.
And then exactly a year after the death of Suguru, Satoru just had to go die too.
Leaving Shoko alone and forgotten in the aftermath
Exactly a year ago today—December 24th—the Night Parade of A Hundred Demons occurred and Suguru Geto was killed.
Shoko still remembers it vividly; The way Satoru just disappeared after he checked on the kids, only returning to the morgue late into the night. How he slumped down in that uncomfortable metallic bench and quietly told her he already got rid of the body. How he was the only one allowed to actually say goodbye to him.
She never even got to say goodbye
It didn’t help that after that, Satoru began pulling away. That annoyingly peppy mask seemed permanently glued to his face with how little he showed his true self to her anymore. Treating her like one of his students, like an outsider. Always telling her he’s doing great, dodging her attempts at communication with jokes. Only showing her The Strongest instead of her friend.
Earlier this morning, Satoru had promised to actually go out drinking with her for once. Promised to go drink in Suguru’s memory. And God she wants that drink right now, to wash away those awful memories and suffocating weight with a nice cold Whisky. To just sit with her friends again, to laugh with them again, like they used to before everything went to hell.
Instead, she’s here in the morgue again. Staring down at the cold and bloodied body of her only remaining friend. His white hair matted with his own blood. Those eyes that were once as blue as the sky on a sunny day now clouded over with that familiar glassiness that accompanies death.
The door clicks shut behind Shoko as she pulls on those rubber gloves. Trying her hardest to tell herself it’ll be just like all the other countless bodies she’s cremated throughout her career—old and young, foolish and wise, strong and weak—every Sorcerer meets the same fate eventually; ending up on her table.
It’s the same routine every time; cut off the clothes, clean up the body, transfer the body to the container, and incinerate.
She did it to Suguru, or at least the parts Yuta and that lunatic were able to obtain today
Now she just needs to do it to Satoru
And then she can officially say every single friend she’s managed to make has been cremated by her own hands
So, a weary sigh leaves her lips as she readies her tools on a smaller side table. She lifts a pair of cool steel medical grade scissors into her gloved hand, slicing through the bloodied cloth like butter. Metallic snips filling the still air before she begins peeling off the blood-soaked fabric. The clotted blood working as glue between cloth and skin, a wet rip echoing through the sterile room as Shoko finally gets it off.
She stares down at her best friend the body, heavy stagnant air hanging over her. His eyes—those once vibrant icy depths—now dark and grey, fogged over like his sunglasses after a long day.
She has to close her eyes, squeezing them shut as she finally puts him it into the furnace. She can’t look. Her hand shakes as she turns on the furnace, the body engulfing in flames for the last time. Pale flesh melting against blue fire, muscles and tendons reduced to nothing as flames crackle against the glass.
Once Shoko finally manages to open her eyes once more, there’s nothing but blue meeting her. The fire burning strong—this beautiful icy blue overtaking the whole furnace, the same blue that use to shine bright as he’d crack dumb jokes or complain about the elders—and Shoko can’t do anything but stare. Her stomach twists, tension returning to her shoulders.
Faced with the fact he’s truly gone now
Why are they all gone while she’s still here?
Why does she get to live while they all died?
Why why why why why why why why why why why why why whY wHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY
Next thing she knows, those flames are dying out just like his eyes had, bright blue fading into nothing. Only grey ash left behind, the furnace popping back open, tray slowly sliding out.
Something in Shoko’s heart finally cracks, yet she still reaches forward. She picks up the tray, bagging the ashes as if this were any other cremation, as if it were another meaningless death
As if the last of her friends didn’t just die on live television.
But she focuses on settling the bag inside her purse, closing the furnace back up, shedding off her gloves, abandoning her coat on the table, and walking out of the morgue. The door clicks shut behind herself, and she finally lets herself inhale the cool air. She stares out at the greying sky, dark clouds casting over the sun. Frosty air nips at her fingers, her legs carrying her past the barrier of Jujutsu High
As she gets down into Tokyo, laughs and cheers echo throughout the streets. Children playing in the snow, parents calling after them, couples kissing under mistletoes, and friends laughing together as they walk down the street. The old cafe even has its usual holiday decorations up—little snowflakes painted on the windows—with candy cane streamers over the door.
“C’mon, Shoko. You know Satoru won’t give up until you say yes.” Suguru chuckles, leaning back on the cafe booth. Their favorite designated hang out spot
Shoko’s dark eyes avert to the window, the quiet fall of snow pattering against the glass. She smiles with a small shrug, “I know. But Yaga was pretty pissed over last year’s party”
“Oh who cares what he thinks??” Satoru groans, dramatically rolling his eyes under those sunglasses of his
“Not everyone’s a nepo baby like you, Satoru.” Shoko laughs, “Some of us actually have to avoid trouble”
“Wellllllllll-” Satoru’s lips perk up into that familiar stupid grin, “What if I promise we won’t get caught this year? And bring extra alcohol?”
Shoko pauses for a moment, her head leaning to the side as a sigh of defeat escapes her lips, “Fine, but if we get caught I get to cry peer pressure.”
She looks down to her cup, a warm glass of hot cocoa with whipped cream and a tiny candy cane sticking out. She lifts the glass to her lips, the rich liquid soothing her throat as Satoru laughs at his little victory
Shoko stumbles into her apartment, fumbling around for a second before she finally reaches the lights. A single lightbulb illuminates the small space, empty beer cans scattered across the coffee table, and her couch slightly pushed back.
She can smell the alcohol on her own breath, ripe and bitter in her nose as she pushes forward to her bathroom. Her body annoyingly slow as she finally reaches it, but she can’t even bother to regret her stop at the bar.
Not when everything still hurts so much
Not when there’s nobody left to miss her anyways.
A trembling hand reaches up to pull out the mirror, collecting several bottles of pills without bothering to look
She needs it all to stop for a while
Tears burn at her eyelids and she drops her purse, the bag of ashes scattering onto the floor
She opens the pill bottles messily, a hitched sob echoing from her throat as she forces down the pills mouthful after mouthful
Her thoughts are a messy sea of darkness and regret, unable to stop seeing their corpses. Unable to stop blaming herself. Unable to stop hating the world for taking everything from her. Unable to stop the pills that slowly make it into her system. Unable to stop her legs from finally giving out. Unable to stop her body from hitting the floor. Unable to stop those dark eyes of hers from finally closing
