{Read HERE on AO3 ♥ I promise the formatting is way better bc idk how Tumblr works anymore}
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto
Summary:
*SUMMARY CONTAINS S2 ANIME SPOILERS*
His mind struggled to reconcile the impossible sight before him.
What stood there…was somebody whom he killed last year, with his own hands
…his best friend.
AN:
Hellooo this is my very first JJK fic+ my first fic in 5 months wahoo idk what tf I'm doing I just know that SatoSugu makes me sad and fills me with yearning so this is the result of that :))
Will maybe? be OOC?? I tried my best though ;;
((AKA: My interpretation of satosugus relationship and the memories that flowed through Gojo in the 1 (one) minute that Kenny needed before locking up Six-Eyes McGee))
"Prison Realm, Gate Open."
"Yo!"
"Satoru."
His eyes widened in disbelief as he stood frozen.
The all-too familiar voice sent a sharp chill down his spine.
Slowly, mechanically, his body twisted toward the presence behind him.
"Huh?"
The world seemed to blur momentarily, his usual impeccable vision reduced to mere hazy impressions. The ambient noises of the subway station became drowned out by his own roaring pulse resounding in his ears.
"Long time no see."
His mind struggled to reconcile the impossible sight before him.
What stood there…was somebody whom he killed last year, with his own hands
…his best friend.
A fake?
Some kind of transformation technique?
All possibilities are rejected by his six eyes.
No.
It’s really him!
The corners of his mouth twitched upward.
The motion came to him easily, familiar, instinctual.
The result of years of habit etched into his very soul.
That’s the first word that pops into Satoru Gojo’s mind as he took in the appearance of the youth before him. Appearance-wise he didn’t seem all that special, jet-black hair with those weirdass bangs that only covered the left side of his face. But well, he’d be hard-pressed to meet anyone as special as he is, being the pride of the Gojo clan and the first person in four hundred years to inherit both Limitless and the Six Eyes (not to brag but he’s totally bragging).
The boy in front of him seemed completely uninterested and unimpressed as he gave Satoru a quick once-over before offering what was CLEARLY a smile for the sake of only being polite.
“Satoru…Gojo, is it? Pleased to make your acquaintance, my name is Suguru Geto. Yaga mentioned that we’d be pairing up for a mission today…although he didn’t mention that you would be an hour late.”
Satoru felt his left eye twitch at the tone that the boy- what was his name again? Suguru?? Anyway, that Suguru used with him.
Two can play at this game.
“Am I late? I hardly noticed!” He drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I guess some of us actually have important things to be doing instead of sitting around all day.”
Was he being petty? Sure! Is it true that he is maybe a little late by an hour or so?? PERHAPS!! But who’s counting really? Besides, he’d be damned if he was going to waste his precious energy being all polite and shit to someone who came swinging at him from the very start.
The apprehension between the two hung heavy in the air as they sized each other up. Suddenly, a tiny laugh rang through the empty classroom that Satoru belatedly recognized to be Suguru’s cut through the tense atmosphere.
“Is that so?” Suguru hummed, tapping his fingers on the desk in front of him. “Well, we’d best get moving then so you can get back to your ‘important things’, don’t you agree? Gojo-kun?
And if it weren’t for the fact that Satoru was so focused on the way his name rolled off Suguru’s tongue, then he might’ve found it in himself to actually come up with a snarky response. Instead, he opted to grumble a few complaints under his breath before turning on his heel.
“Yeah yeah whatever, let’s just get this over with. Geto-kun. ”
————————————
Satoru gawked with open disgust as Suguru casually swallowed the small black orb that was once a rather disgusting looking spiky-wormy curse without batting an eye.
“Blegh, gross. What do those things even taste like anyway?” Exorcising curses was bad enough, Satoru couldn’t even imagine having to eat them too.
Suguru paused, “...Why do you care?”
“I don’t.” He shrugged, “Just trying to make some conversation, be friendly, blah blah blah-”
Satoru’s monologue cut short as a huge tapeworm-thing pierced through the ground, lunging at him while filling the air with an annoying high-pitched SCREEEE .
“I’m sure it’s a difficult task for you, but let’s save the chit-chat for later! We’re in the middle of a mission here in case you forgot.”
“Haah? Don’t tell me you’re scared of a little danger, Geto-kun .” He taunted, easily dodging out of the way. “And here I thought that being able to use cursed spirit manipulation meant you were something like a Pokémon master…guess you’re just another weakling!”
“Oh for the love of- JUST SHUT UP AND FIGHT ALREADY! ”
————————————
“Hey, you’re still alive right?” Satoru carefully nudged Suguru’s prone body with his foot, his tone half-joking but also kinda worried as he scanned over the still-bleeding scratches littered across the other’s face.
“It’d be really embarrassing if you died in such a pathetic way, you know that right? At least try and hold out until we can get outside the veil Geto-kun! You know the only one who can use reversed curse technique is that girl right? What was her name again? Shaka? Soho? Whatever. Anyways, my point is that I’ll never let you live it down! Not to mention you owe me for getting you out of there in one piece after all, I expect you to at least get rid of a few more of those things-”
“You talk too much.” Suguru interjected, groaning as he shifted around, carefully positioning himself upright. “Besides, don’t just casually pronounce me as dead.” He grumbled before flashing Satoru a bold, confident smile. “I have no intention of dying any time soon.”
His blatant courage stirred something inside of Satoru… inspiration? Meh, probably adrenaline. Whatever it was, it gave Satoru Gojo a sense of exhilaration.
“ You know …now that I’m looking at you, you’re actually kinda cool.” Satoru grinned, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. “Alright! But just so you know, if you do die on me, then I’ll kill you.”
Suguru laughed.
————————————
Shoko (righttt, that was her name!) brushed off her skirt as she stood, patting Suguru on the shoulder lightly. “All done~ good thing that you two have me in your year huh? Anywho, two packs of cigarettes will do as thanks Geto-kun! Since you seem the least likely to get carded after all~. ”
“Thank you Ieiri-san…” Suguru smiled gratefully, “I’m in your debt.”
As Shoko floated out of the room, Satoru pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, sauntering next to Suguru’s bed.
“Speaking of debts…you also owe me. Remember?” He quipped, not that he actually needed anything when it came to money or material things. But if he was being honest with himself, there was something about Suguru Geto that piqued his curiosity. He wanted to know him better.
“Ah…right.” Suguru looked at him cautiously, which, ouch. Did Satoru really seem that unapproachable? “...So? Name your price.”
Satoru paused, trying to make his tone seem nonchalant. “Got any cursed spirits in that collection of yours that can fly? Suguru . ”
A moment of silence passed between the two before Suguru burst out into laughter, the noise brightening the room and filling up a hollow in Satoru’s chest that he didn’t even know existed until then.
“I do.” Suguru beamed. “Want a ride? Satoru .”
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Three years of his youth.
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The streets of Kawasaki buzzed with activity as waves upon waves of people crammed themselves into a small area for some type of festival. The tantalizing smell of food stalls wafted through the air, enticing passersby to indulge a little as stall-owners waved eagerly at customers to take a look.
The two Second-Years had just finished up a mission nearby, and decided to take a well-deserved break before heading back to Jujutsu High. Satoru stifled a yawn as he hovered behind Suguru whose attention was currently invested in a booth selling what claimed to be the ‘Best Hojicha Tea in all of Japan!’ which, sheesh , overconfident much?
“ Suguruuuuuu. ” He groaned, purposefully turning off infinity to knock his head repeatedly into the other’s back which was actually really solid to his surprise considering how slim Suguru looked in his uniform. “Can we leave yet? I can feel my stomach slowly starting to digest itself! If I don’t feed it within the next 10 seconds I could die…and then who would be your best friend then, huh? And here I thought that you cared about me! Even Shoko wouldn’t be able to fix me if I were dead, you know that right? Suguru? Hey, Suguruu- ”
“Is that so? Guess all that rumbling I heard was your stomach then Satoru . And here I thought it was a special grade curse making all that noise.” Suguru thanked the cashier before turning to face Satoru with his usual easy smile.
“It’s too hot here and you promised you’d treat me to ramen while we were in Kawasaki, yet here you are rambling on and on about tea leaves with some old geezer!” Satoru was aware that his voice was coming out more petulant than he would’ve liked but Suguru was used to his complaining at this point, BESIDES! He was hungry and tired of standing for so long.
“Patience is a virtue, Satoru.” Suguru cooed, rubbing the back of Satoru’s neck comfortingly. “I’m almost done, I just need to find one more thing before we leave so hold out for a little while longer will you?” His voice was soft, which is extremely unfair because he knows how weak Satoru is to him when he talks like that.
“Fine.” He caved, “But I’m not following you. I’m gonna find some shade to rest under while you continue with your retail therapy.”
Suguru chuckled, giving Satoru an amused look. "Suit yourself, Satoru. Just make sure you don't get into any trouble while I finish up here."
As Suguru weaved his way back through the lively crowd, Satoru found a shaded spot near a small fountain and decided to take a seat on its edge. He watched the people passing by, the vibrant atmosphere of the festival creating a pleasant backdrop. Despite his initial complaints, Satoru couldn't help but appreciate the energy surrounding him.
Just as he was about to drift off into a light doze, a presence in front of him caused his eyes to fly open. A mischievous smile played on Suguru's lips as he stood before Satoru, holding a pair of sunglasses. Even from a glance Satoru could tell that the silver frame was made from high-quality material, elegantly encircling each lens which upon careful inspection, had a bluish tint to them.
"What do you think, Satoru? Found something interesting," Suguru said, holding the shades closer up for him to see.
Satoru raised an eyebrow, eyeing the mask with skepticism. "Don’t tell me you want to start wearing matching sunglasses? No offense but that just screams tacky Suguru."
Suguru chuckled. "Not exactly. I thought it would suit you. Didn’t you mention your current pair was starting to get scratched up? Come on, put it on. Consider it a souvenir and apology for making you wait so long."
Satoru hesitated for a moment, eyeing the sunglasses before finally relenting. "Well, if it's a gift from you, I suppose I can't refuse." He winked before taking the sunglasses from Suguru, appreciating the craftsmanship and the stylish design. As he put them on, he couldn't help but admit they felt surprisingly comfortable.
Suguru grinned, nodding in approval. "They look good on you, Satoru."
Satoru couldn't help the flush of heat that rose to his face, hoping the blush would be hidden beneath his new shades. "I guess I can forgive you for making me wait this time, Suguru. These are pretty cool."
The two friends spent the rest of the day immersed in the festivities of Kawasaki, their laughter and banter echoing through the bustling streets. As the sun set and the vibrant lights of the festival illuminated the night, they found themselves at a ramen shop, finally fulfilling Satoru's earlier request.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Although it was just an instant…
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first snowfall of the year had blanketed Tokyo in a pristine coat of white. The city's bustling energy had quieted to a hushed serenity, and even the cursed spirits seemed to take a pause in their mischief. Amidst this winter wonderland, Suguru and Satoru found themselves unexpectedly united in a rare moment of peace.
On the outskirts of the city, where the snow lay undisturbed, the pair stood facing each other. The bitter cold nipped at the tips of their ears and their exposed noses. A mischievous glint sparkled in Satoru’s eyes as he glanced at the untouched snow around them.
"Hey Suguru… I challenge you to a snowball fight," Gojo declared with a playful grin.
He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're on, Satoru. No Limitless allowed though, that’s just a natural cheat."
“Hah!” Satoru’s grin widened, “Not like it would make a difference! You’ll never land a hit on me.”
And so, the two powerful sorcerers began their impromptu snowball battle. The quiet landscape echoed with the sounds of laughter and the soft thuds of snowballs meeting their targets. Geto's precision and Gojo's speed made it a fierce competition, each trying to outmaneuver the other in the whirlwind of flying chunks of snow.
After a particularly intense exchange, they found themselves panting and covered in snow. A truce was silently declared as they sat side by side on a snow-covered bench, catching their breath. The quietness of the snowy landscape seemed to seep into their souls, the air was crisp and the only sounds were the soft whispers of the wind or the occasional rustle of a nearby tree branch weighed down by snow.
"Who would have thought that a snowball fight could be so... therapeutic?" Suguru remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Gojo chuckled, a rare genuine smile gracing his usually carefree expression. "Snow has a way of reminding us of simpler times, doesn't it? Before curses and duty were at the center of our lives."
Their conversation was interrupted by the distant chime of a nearby shrine bell, signaling the approach of the New Year. The significance of the moment lingered in the air, and they both felt the weight and the anticipation of the year to come.
"I suppose even you can be sentimental then," Geto mused, breaking the momentary silence.
Gojo nodded in agreement. "Maybe we should make this a tradition—annual snowball fights to remind us of the fleeting joy in life."
As they stood up from the bench, brushing off the snow, the cold no longer felt as biting. The untouched snow around them held the promise of a fresh start. The city lights in the distance twinkled like distant stars, and for that brief moment, there were no curses or obligations that held them back. They were simply Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo in a quiet, snow-covered corner of Tokyo.
“Let’s go home, Satoru.”
Hand in hand, they walked back towards the city, leaving behind them two pairs of footprints embedded in the snow.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For Satoru Gojo...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Star Plasma Vessel mission.
Riko Amanai’s Death.
Applause.
Applause.
Applause.
“You’re late, Suguru. No, I guess you got here fast. There are several Star Religious Group facilities in the city after all.”
Applause.
“Satoru? Is that you? What happened?”
A ppla use.
“I see you already saw Shoko.”
App la use.
“Yeah, she healed me. I’m fine now. No, me being safe doesn’t help anything here.”
“I screwed up. You’re not at fault.”
“Let’s head back.”
Ap p au s e.
“Suguru. Should we kill these guys? The way I feel right now...I doubt I’d feel anything about it.”
“No. There’s no point.”
“No point…huh. Does there really need to be any point to it?”
————————————
“Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo?”“Or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?”
“What the hell are you trying to say?”
“Listen to me!”
“If I were able to become you,”“This foolish ideal would become a lot more grounded and real.”“Don’t you think?”
“...”
“Don’t think anything strange. Just please come over here!”
“I’ve decided how I’ll live my life.”“Now it’s just a matter of doing the best I can to achieve that.”
“...”
“I’ll listen to you so please-”
“If you want to kill me, then kill me.”“There would be a point to that.”
"Say something!”
——————————————
“You’re late.”
“Satoru.”
——————————
“Do you have any last words?”
————————
“No matter what anyone says”“I hate those monkeys.”
“But”
“I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High.”
“I just couldn’t wear a heartfelt smile in this world.”
——————
“Suguru.”
“ █ ████ ███ ”
———
“Pfft-”
“At least curse me a little at the very end.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
One minute had passed a long time ago.
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“So.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Suguru Geto!”
“Don’t you remember me? How sad…”
“All the information provided by my Six Eyes is telling me you’re Suguru Geto.”
Pairing: Young!Clive x Reader (iirc I made it p much gender neutral save for one tiny part)
Summary: As Rosalith's (admittedly young) chocobo caretaker, it is your duty to ensure the well-being of the birds. What starts as another average day ends up being more eventful as you bump into the young lord Clive Rosfield.
AN: I really tried writing fics again just for this game, emphasis on the word TRIED. I haven't written shit in 10 years
Year of the Realm 860
Rosalith - The Grand Duchy of Rosaria
The streets of Rosalith slowly come alive as the first hints of sunrise casts a warm glow across the cobblestone paths. The insistent “kweh’s” of hungry chocobos fill the air as you make your way towards the wooden stables, grimacing as you feel your boots sink into the muddy ground. Your sleep-addled brain can barely keep up as you carry out your duties of replenishing each chocobo’s greens and setting out fresh straw. While it’s admittedly not the most engaging task, you find comfort in the routine and can think of far worse company than the gentle birds that you care for.
Wiping the sweat from your brow, you can’t keep the smile of excitement off your face as you walk up to the next bird, her sharp blue eyes snapping to you as you carefully extend your arm to her, waiting to see if she’d accept your offer of pats.
“Hello Ambrosia, I apologize for being a bit behind schedule…some of the others were being difficult today, but I trust you won’t hold it against me?”
You beam as she nudges her head into your outstretched hand, permitting you to give her snowy white feathers a quick ruffle before you turn, tending to her empty food trough.
“You know girl, I have a feeling that today will be a good day.” You mumble as you fish out her quality greens, “I heard that Clive was planning on going for a ride today, wouldn’t that be nice? Take you out for some fresh air, maybe even get in a few kills…mind you, that would mean more work for me. It’s a right pain in the arse trying to get blood out of your feathers.”
So caught up in your tasks, you were painfully unaware of the new presence of a certain young lord Rosfield who was casually leaning against the wooden post at the entrance of Ambrosia’s stable, quietly listening to your musings.
“But you ought to be careful out there, I know you wouldn’t let it happen but with the Blight and all who knows what you and Clive see out there mm? Can’t let the young lord get hurt… or you for that matter.” You laugh, standing up, “Well, not like he’d listen to me- OH!” You jump as you finally take notice of your silent companion. Well, aside from Ambrosia of course.
“Lord Rosfield!” You exclaim, hastily bending at the waist into a rather ungraceful bow. “Forgive me, I was not aware that you would be at the stables this early in the morning!”
You can hear him stifle a laugh as he walks closer, his boots coming into your field of vision from where you remain bowed over.
“Please, rise. And you need not show such stiff formalities, after all, did I not just hear you refer to me by name instead of title?”
You quickly snap out of your bow, inwardly cringing at your appearance (a messy and sweaty mess) an embarrassingly stark contrast to his well put-together attire, the morning sun glinting off the sword he keeps hung on his back. Silently, you pray furiously for him to mistake the flush on your cheeks as a result of your physical labor, and not as an effect of you being in his presence alone.
So what if you held a tiny flame for the young lord? It’s not your fault he was blessed with a pretty face...and a likable personality… and- Great Greagor. What wasn’t there to like about him??
“-ou feeling well? Shall I call for a healer?”
You quickly shook away your thoughts as you refocused your eyes (and thoughts) on Clive, resisting the urge to physically slap some sense into yourself.
“Apologies, my lord, how may I serve you?” You hurriedly lowered yourself into another bow, nervously fiddling with the front of your skirt.
“Please, Clive is perfectly suitable. He stepped closer, arms outstretched as he motioned for you to stand. “There is no one here save for the chocobos, and I doubt they have much regard for titles.”
You straighten out once more, awkwardly nodding in agreement. “Well, right then…how can I be of service to you…Clive?” The name felt wrong coming out of your mouth now, while it wasn’t the first time you used it, you could never get used to referring to any of the Rosfield’s as anything less than their rank…to their faces at least. Clive on the other hand grinned at your compliance, turning to smooth out some of Ambrosia’s feathers.
“It seems I rose earlier than usual today, it’s a while yet before my presence is needed elsewhere so I thought to pay a visit to the stables.”
Ambrosia happily soaked up the attention from her favorite human, letting out a soft kweh as he rhythmically stroked along her beak. Anyone would agree that it was a damned adorable sight.
“She is a fine bird” you say, affection evident in your voice, “it would be rude of me to have a favorite out of all the steeds, but I won’t tell if you don’t.” You grinned at him, carefully grabbing your broom to sweep away bits of dust and straw that littered the floor.
You failed to notice the light flush that colored his face as he cleared his throat, “That she is, you have my gratitude for taking such good care of her. It’s clear that she’s taken a liking to you.”
You shook your head, “She’s just a naturally sweet girl, I’m sure she’d behave the same with any other chocobo handler.”
He scoffs, running his hand through her plumage “You’d be surprised, consider it a compliment… by the Mother, ” He sighed, his face twitched slightly in embarrassment, “how embarrassing…I never asked for your name.”
You stood there, dumbfounded for a moment.
“Please, my lord-”
“Clive.”
“... Clive . That really won't be necessary-”
“Nonsense, I would like to know the name of the individual who takes such good care of our birds.”
His smile was almost blinding as you floundered inside your head. Embarrassingly, your name seemed to slip from your mind for a moment.
“It’s ___! But please my lord, you need not feel pressured to use it-”
“ ___? ___… ” He tested, unaware of your rapidly increasing heartbeat.
This is it. You were going to die in a chocobo stable.
“I like it.” He says, the smile evident in his voice, “It suits you.”
“You have my thanks my lor- I mean, thank you, Clive.” You stuttered out, gripping the handle of your broom tightly.
He smiled brightly at you, seemingly wanting to say more but was quickly interrupted at the sudden sharp shout of “LORD ROSFIELD!” that pierced the calm morning air.
“It seems that I let time slip away from me,” he said sheepishly, “my apologies, but I should make haste before Commander Murdoch wakes the entirety of Rosaria…thank you for taking the time to speak with me ___ . I shall leave Ambrosia in your more than capable hands.”
You quickly bow your head to him, still unused to hearing your name coming from his lips. Giving you one last smile of gratitude, he pats Ambrosia on the neck affectionately before slipping out of the stables.
Turning to the snowy chocobo, you watch in a daze as she happily wolfs down her breakfast.
“A very good day indeed…”
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