Catharsis: Christmas Special
Phos!Reader x Teen!Gojo Satoru and Teen!Geto Suguru
Warnings: Gojo - centric, usual angst, fluff if you squint, major character death, dead bodies, set in 2006, lots of talks of politics, death, murder, trauma, morals, etc, borderline bullying? (Satoru is a jerk), self - blaming, grief, and all it's stages, trouble processing and understanding emotions, Gojo is seriously just his own warning
Notes: Merry Christmas!!!
"You're weak. Why do you bother being a sorceror?"
Satoru's words make you freeze, eyes widening at their bluntness. He doesn't react, however, because in his mind, he's simply telling you the truth.
You're weak. He's known that from the moment you set foot in this classroom almost three months ago.
He doesn't understand why Suguru and Shoko seem so fond of you. All you do is get into trouble, injure yourself, and make it everyone's problem to save you. You can't fight, your Cursed Technique is subpar, not to mention that you're annoying.
Stepping into battle like some sort of self-righteous hero knowing full well that if a curse so much as touches you, you'll crumble. Literally. That's another thing he finds annoying about you. How easily your skin chips and cracks like porcelain revealing an ocean of Phosphophyllite underneath.
You can't lift anything heavy, you can't fight, you can't help out without injuring yourself, you're clumsy, you're annoying, and the list could go on.
What he finds the most annoying about you, however, is your soft voice going, "Gojo - san, are you alright? You look tired", "Gojo - san, you should rest, you don't need to use your technique so often", "Gojo - san, you haven't eaten yet, so I brought you this, I hope you don't mind".
Gojo - san this, Gojo - san that, God. You drive him crazy. How do you manage to see through every front he puts up? Every act? Even Shoko and Suguru can't see through it, and yet you have the audacity to call him out.
You're a liability in battle, and you're practically useless, more like the team's overglorified mascot. So, for the life of him, Satoru doesn't understand why everyone likes you so much. Even Nanami, his grouchy underclassman, doesn't seem to mind you.
What annoys Satoru the most, however, is the tug his heart feels when he looks at you. Because no matter how he tries to deny it, you're growing on him like a parasite, and a part of him wishes he was as close to you as they were.
"I am weak." You agree, seemingly taking no offence to Satoru's question. It's just you and him in the classroom. You're standing at your desk, bag still in hand, and he's sitting a desk, two desks behind yours. Shoko and Suguru are still on their way, and he's taken this opportunity to ask you what he's been dying to.
Satoru's eyes widen at your response.
"If you know you're weak, why do you try so hard? It's kind of pathetic, you know." His brows furrow, glasses sliding down his nose bridge as he tilts his head.
"I- because, I'm selfish, I guess." You say softly.
There it is again. That annoying soft tone of voice that makes his chest hurt whenever he hears it.
"I know I'm weak, but I want to keep trying. I want to fight. One day, I want to be able to repay everyone for everything they've done for me. Yaga - sensei, Shoko, Suguru, Ken, Yuu. Even you, Gojo - san. I want you to be able to rely on me. I want to be able to protect innocent people like you guys do. So I hope you can bear with me for a little more, Gojo - san. I'm sorry for being such a burden, but I promise I'll pay you back." You say earnestly, looking Gojo in the eye.
Satoru's eyes widen, and he's silent for a moment. Before he bursts out laughing.
You suddenly feel embarrassed. You were being serious and heartfelt, and all Gojo does in response is laugh.
"What's with that? Did you quote that from an anime?" He cackles, hitting the desk with one hand and holding his stomach with the other.
"I- I did not! I was being honest!" You defend, feeling the heat tinting your cheeks.
"If- if you really want to repay me, buy me something sweet from the vending machine." Satoru stutters between fits of giggles.
"OK, I'm on it." You nod, turning on your tail to leave the class. A hand grabs your shoulder, stopping you.
"Where are you going?" Satoru asks, leaning down to look you in the eye.
"The vending machine?" You reply, brows furrowed in confusion.
"You're going now?"
"Yeah? I'll be back really quickly."
Satoru scoffs, but there's a smile on his face nonetheless.
"Really? I'll time you then. You have 5 minutes." He challenges, smirking as he tilts his head at you.
"5- 5 minutes?" You stutter, eyes wide. The vending machine was on the other side of the school. There's no way you'd make it back in 5 minutes.
"Yeah. The clock is ticking. Didn't you say you'd pay me for saving your butt all those times?" He mocks.
Satoru's eyes widen as you put down your bag, determination clear on your face.
"I did. I might not be back in 5 minutes, but I'll be back in less than 10!"
"Hey, wait-"
And with that, you've rushed out the classroom, leaving Satoru absolutely bewildered. As he sticks his head out the door, watching you run and almost slip multiple times, Satoru thinks he's figured it out. He understands why Shoko and Suguru keep you around.
You're amusing. And he wants to get closer to you.
Unfortunately, things never go as planned. And if Satoru had known the outcome before, he would have tried to get to know you much sooner.
Things change quickly when you're a Jujutsu Sorceror. People come and go, live, and die. They change, they evolve. People grow apart, and people grow closer.
Regardless, it's not a pleasant feeling when you lose someone close to you.
Gojo Satoru had never thought the day would come when he'd feel regret. He was the strongest, after all. Everything he wanted he got. The world was his oyster. Money, power, good looks, everything. So it's safe to say that loss was also a new concept to him.
A feeling he decided he'd prefer to live without.
It hurt in a way he couldn't explain. He felt as if he couldn't breathe, as if there were something heavy on his chest. Almost as if he were having an out of body experience but could feel whatever the stranger he saw when he looked in the mirror felt. Pain. Anger. Despair.
Cold and light. That's how your body felt in his arms. He couldn't bear to look at the white cloth covering it. This, this couldn't be you. This body in his arms, the broken shards of its head cutting into the cloth.
Yet it was still vivid. Amanai Riko running out and finding him, letting him know that you had died saving her. A bullet straight to the head. Pushing her into Suguru's arms and telling him to run with your last breath. Riko's tear filled face as she begged for him to help Suguru because she couldn't bear to have anyone else die because of her.
Since then, he's felt numb. It hasn't faded. The coldness in his skin, the haze of his reality, brain clouded as it was forced to process the events that had taken place.
"Suguru... should we kill them all? I probably wouldn't feel anything right now."
Did he say something? The words don't register in his mind. Was that his voice? Raw and soft.
Them. The higher-ups. If only he had known earlier that they were supportive of your death. That there was a bounty for your head somewhere.
He didn't know why. He didn't know anything. You had kept so much to yourself. Just what were you dealing with alone? All this time, smiling wide, eyes always sparkling, hiding everything behind your carefree, happy - go - lucky persona.
You didn't deserve this. You of all people. You weren't weak. You were sweet, kind, caring, and selfless to a fault.
This was not you. Lifeless in his arms. You were never this cold.
He remembered it, how warm your hands were all those time your fingers brushed his forehead to check if he was well, when your fingers brushed his whenever you handed him something, how warm they were when you held his face in your hands and scolded him for being reckless. He remembered it vividly.
What would you say if you saw him now? The exhaustion in his face, the blankness in his eyes, the way his- his hands were... trembling?
He could hear your voice, clear as day.
"Gojo - san! What happened to you!"
"You should really take care of yourself more, what were you thinking?"
"I don't care if you're one of the strongest! You're a teenager. Right now, you're just Satoru, and you're going to learn to be kinder to yourself. You- you don't deserve this."
What did Satoru deserve? Was it really kindness? Care? Gentleness? Love? He had messed up. If he had been stronger, he could have saved you. If he had been stronger, you wouldn't be dead in his arms.
What was the point of awakening his powers when they weren't there when it mattered? What was the point of being the strongest if he couldn't protect the people he cared about? The people he loved?
What made matters worse was finding out the higher-ups were happy you were gone. The people that had singlehandedly been the cause for his suffering. His. Suguru's. Shoko's. Yours. Those filthy old bags who only thought of themselves.
What would really happened if he killed them all? Would it really be such a bad thing? Weren't they supposed to be the pillars of the Jujutsu world? The elders for people to look up to and learn from. A symbol of hope, something, anything even remotely positive, beneficial to the future of the young next generation of Jujutsu Sorcerors?
All they had done was applaud the death of someone innocent. A teenager. A child. How dare these self-righteous ba-
Your hand falls from the covers of the white sheet, hanging limply.
Satoru's brain goes blank. A pale arm, an empty hand, and familiar phosphophyllite fingernails.
"No need. It's meaningless." Suguru's voice is low, as if the reality that you're gone hasn't hit him yet. His eyes linger on your hand. The palm that patted his back, the fingers that ran through his hair, the hand that was so warm in his.
Before he can stop himself, he finds his own hand grasping it. It's cold. He drops it like the contact physically hurt him.
"Without the higher-ups, the Jujutsu world will go up in flames. And even if they die, there's the possibility even worse people will come into power. Killing them won't bring her back either."
His words don't make sense, even to him, but Suguru utters them nonetheless. The look in Satoru's eye is enough to tell him that if he doesn't do anything, today will mark the beginning of a massacre. And although he feels the same anger Satoru does, Suguru's moral compass, as well as his understanding of the type of person you are... stops him.
"Meaning... huh?" Satoru repeats.
The Satoru in front of him is not the Satoru Suguru knows. The playful, snarky, overburdened boy replaced by something else. Something unfamiliar. Something... cold.
"Do we need that?"
Suguru hesitates for a split second. The girl in Satoru's arms is just as unfamiliar. A bubbly, bright, kind girl replaced by something else. Something unfamiliar. Something... almost sinful. A shell. An empty shell. The existence it harboured long gone. A disgrace to the being it had once been.
"Yeah. It's very important... for sorcerors."
Your corpse wouldn't decompose. The crystallisation forming a perfect seal to your body, and perhaps that's why they can't bring themselves to immediately bury you.
Clinging onto the false hope that perhaps you'd wake up, bounce back like always. Familiar head of teal hair poking over Suguru's shoulder, a second softer set of footsteps padding behind Satoru's, a warm hand flinching at the touch of Shoko's cold ones.
It's sickening. How quiet everything has become in your absence. How the shadows seem darker due to the absence of your light.
Perhaps you wouldn't know it, but your death was beneficial in a way. Suguru spiralled into depression but your words of the past kept him strong, and somehow, he managed to graduate with Satoru and Shoko.
They left an empty seat between them at graduation. Your certificate is still in Shoko's office to this day.
Your warnings and nagging that reminded everyone of their mother saved Haibara's life. You had always told them to never accept missions alone, and it was thanks to your words ringing in his head that Nanami became paranoid while Haibara was out on a mission. This led to him going out to check on Haibara and ended in him saving his life.
It was almost idealistic how almost everyone graduated that year. A rare thing in the Jujutsu World to have so many young people survive.
Satoru jokes its because you took on the unwanted burden and closed the gates of Heaven yourself. You always did. Eating the bitter parts of his food that he didn't like, letting everyone choose first when Yaga gave you rewards, not touching your food until everyone had started eating. You always took on the unpleasantries so that everyone else could live without knowing suffering.
Why did everyone deserve happiness except for you?
Why did everyone deserve to live except for you?
"Gojo - Sensei."
"So even Sensei sleeps, huh?"
"Of course he does. What kind of nonsense is that?"
Satoru's eyelids flutter. He pulls up his blindfold, his vision coming into focus as he sees a blurry image of his students.
For a split moment, he's in high school again. He's in his second year, and he's sleeping before class. He hears soft footsteps approach him. Feels someone lean down near him, but he's not scared. Not even annoyed.
Rather, he plays dumb and waits in anticipation. There's butterflies bursting in his chest, a smile pulling at his face that's hidden in his arms. Smirking at the familiar scent of yuzu and caramel engulfing his senses. He'd chosen it, after all.
"Gojo - san? Wake up, class is about to start."
"Gojo - sensei!"
But when his visions focuses fully, he realises it's been 12 years and his beloved students have visited his office.
"Oh, he's awake!"
There's a red rim to Satoru's eyes, but it's almost unnoticeable. He smiles before pulling his blindfold back down.
"Please don't fall asleep after summoning us all here." Megumi states.
Satoru stands up, and Yuji and Nobara are quick to fight over who gets to sit on his chair.
"What are you smiling about?"
It's today. By 4 that morning, Satoru had found himself sat in front of a familiar grave. He was always the first to visit. He brings a bouquet of white heliotrope and places it on the grave. He crouches in front of it, his blindfold tucked away in his pocket.
"Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy Birthday, dear Y/n. Happy Birthday to you."
If there's one thing Satoru wishes, it's that he was able to tell you his feelings truthfully while you were still alive. It's unhealthy, but he finds himself uttering the same three words on every occasion to a stone in the ground.
If only he could have seen your pretty face while he uttered them in person.
Satoru doesn't know if he believes in the afterlife, but he hopes you're listening. And maybe, just maybe, you're screaming at the top of your lungs, repeating the words in hopes he'd somehow hear.
"It's nothing."
A lie. Because deep down, Satoru knows he's thinking about a certain place, a certain person.
Maybe in his next life, he can finally go home to you.