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Blood Orange Wine

Summary:

Suguru is gone, and Satoru is left with nothing but regrets. He reminiscences how they got here, and finds no one but himself to blame.

Notes:

I was bamboozled into writing hard angst again. Thankfully, there was a song that just came out and hit the spot for inspiration.

Sry Satoru I just really like to see you suffer.

Work Text:

It was August, and he was sitting in an alleyway staring up at the sky. In a way, he knew it was always going to be this way. When wasn't it?

He heard the news Suguru killed a whole village and denied it with every fiber of his being. The village had nothing left of it, only ashes and charred buildings. Then, it was that he also killed his parents. The same person who saved him from killing a room full of people he hated could not be the same one who committed such awful acts.

His focus stayed on what signs he missed, the concern he should've had more of. Satoru thought they were the same. He thought a lot of things, and his assumptions were wrong in the end. It was embarrassing. Maybe that's part of what this feeling was, embarrassment. It wasn't the only one, but he was glad to have the skills to identify it.

He wouldn't soon. He'd revert.

Part of him, no, all of him wished Suguru's choices had anything to do with him. He wished, craved, that this curse-free world ideation involved Satoru. It was selfish, and he hated himself for it. Suguru was hurting over the last year, but fuck, so was he. He knew not to fall apart when there was work to be done.

When he tried to be the same compass Suguru was to him, he looked at him like Satoru was nothing. No one actually trusted his thoughts, his desperate attempts at being human. He thought Suguru did. He thought he was someone to him, not something.

Satoru watched the clouds move in the sky. Was it this sunny a half hour ago? He could've swore it was about to storm. It was so blue now. All he could do was stare at it and wonder why he wasn't crying. Other people cried at this sort of thing, right? When they had a breakup? Except it wasn't a breakup. They were never something more than mission partners.

Suguru couldn't keep up. He resented him now, the same as everyone else. Satoru laughed a little, and ran his hand through his hair. His best friend told him it in the most classically Suguru way possible.

’Are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest, or are you the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru?’

So eloquent even as he shattered Satoru's world. He never had an outburst the same way he did a half hour ago. Satoru got mad, he could be serious, but it wasn't the same as screaming in the street, arms flailing, chest heaving. This anger and pain couldn't get covered up by sarcasm and witty remarks. Did Suguru think he would? Probably, if the way he looked at him until the very end said something.

The audacity Suguru had to tell Satoru to kill him, that there was meaning in that, but not in finding a better way to solve curses. Suguru acted like it would be so easy for him to do it. He said it like he wasn't the only person Satoru ever felt safe around. How long had he thought of him like this? Had he always, deep down? If Suguru was capable of his crimes, and he was, then the answer was maybe leaning towards a “be real, yeah he did”. The newly born curse user just hid it so well.

Maybe that's what connected them to begin with. They were opposite sides of the sorcerery spectrum in every every way. Satoru born blessed with a technique with minor inconveniences, opulent wealth, and immediate knowledge of Jujutsu society and techniques; while Suguru was born with a technique that caused him suffering, to a humble middle class family from the country, ignorant to sorcery.

Satoru should have told him the truth early on. He should've warned him if he loved him like he claimed to. But how was he supposed to ruin that innocence? Suguru felt like a breath of fresh air, a change in the winds. He was so damn sincere, felt things so deeply. He was positivity and hope. Satoru felt like maybe things could be better with someone like Suguru around.

And then it only took two missions that showed him the truth to break him.

He should've tried harder. It wasn't like Satoru had no reason for why he thought what he thought. Well, what he used to think at least. For lack of better words, it was tradition. He'd made fun of Suguru's naivety instead of educating him. They were close but at the time Suguru, no matter how big of a crush he had, was an outsider.

Jujutsu Sorcerery best served those who were selfish and strived for greatness. People who could lose themselves in the process were the ones who succeeded. They did not wait or slow down. They may care and love but inevitably the high of battle came first. It was every truly great sorcerers downfall. All of them from Masamichi himself to Ryoumen Sukuna. They went down happy though, because they'd found true companionship in battle.

Before Suguru, that was how Satoru felt, was raised to feel. He learned to fight not long after he learned to speak. Most kids chose stuffed animals in their youth. His family put a myriad of weapons in front of him to choose from, to specialize in. They told him he broke the scales, and had made everything better just by living. That sounded easy to do. It was not.

Everyone thought his ego was big now? It was nothing compared to the attitude he had by twelve. He'd grown up until high school with no friends, not even cousins, out of other parents fearing he'd hurt the kids accidently. They were likely right to fear it in hindsight. All he could do was study, eat, train, and sleep. Sometimes he'd play video games or read comics, but he was pitifully stoic. He wanted to act as mature as they were treating him. That meant no childish hobbies, no candies, or trips to zoos. The threat of letting them down kept him up at night.

He'd dealt with years of assassination attempts back then too. He had better control of limitless, infinity, and his eyes by eight. Before that he was kept in the family compound for safety, guarded like a sacred weapon. Well, he was one, but…

He'd been a menace, rude, cruel, and without patience for errors or accidents. If that was the standard for him, then anyone who couldn't meet that was below him. Soon enough he found no one met it. He didn't speak to classmates at his private school, didn't participate in extracurriculars. Satoru found himself angry all the time, and spiteful. His bad attitude worsened, peaking at twelve he was pretty sure.

When he started to back talk the elders was when the praise and adoration began to fade away. Sometimes they'd ask for stupid things, easy things, that others could do but because Satoru was around then why not him? He'd started to appreciate playing games more, and discovered how much he really, really liked candy. They impeded on what little precious free time he had because of his abilities, his role.

When his GameCube was confiscated, he was ready to wreck the entire house. Satoru almost did. Except he was naive then too. He didn't realize the carrot they'd had him chasing after, addicted to the nibbles he got. The way his parents and grandparents turned, looking at him not with anger but disappointment froze him to the spot.

’Once in several millennia, and such poor self discipline.’

‘You coddled him too much. He does not need so many distractions from his purpose.’

‘Maybe this is as far as he can go. Not everyone is bound for greatness just because of a technique.’

And oh, how hungry he had been after that. The smiles and cheers were gone, replaced with exhausted endurance and unwilling attention. They had him by the nose. Satoru never thought it was possible for people to dislike him if they weren't evil or bad people. Suddenly he was a calamity and not a blessing. He missed the attention, the way everyone looked so fondly at him, like he was the sun itself.

So, he worked to win it back. They gave him crumbs. It didn't matter what he did, what he learned, what he accomplished. He was fourteen going on Grade One missions. Satoru took out titans, and perfected blue. Yet, the best he got for it was a backhanded compliment.

’As expected of our Six Eyes.’

‘A feat worthy of your technique.’

It was never about him, it was about what he was born with. After blue, it slowly dawned on him that he was not a child to them. He had more in common with the cursed weapons stored under the school than a living being.

Somewhere in-between then and starting at Jujutsu High, he cracked. It was a world where there were users and the used. Despite it all, he didn't want to be like them. The temptation was there, but his social skills were abysmal. He was saved from becoming what he hated because he struggled to hold a conversation that wasn't directed by his family.

Satoru couldn't manipulate. Instead, he stopped caring. Everything got easier after he adopted that state of mind. He found it easier to laugh, to joke, and just fuck around. None of it mattered, after all. He was a God on a leash to his believers, who dug hooks into him so he would answer their prayers. He might as well have a good time if it was going to be like that.

The family was at a loss when he did everything he needed to for school and work, but afterwards he was off doing God knows what. He skipped dinner and drank straight from the jug. If he wasn't in his school uniform he chose to wear comfortable modern clothes rather than the traditional outfits they were all pushed to don. His manners got worse, and his poor social skills were covered by a thick layer of arrogance.

If he was cold and cruel, if he was serious, it meant he cared. People who cared about something could be manipulated. If Satoru played the jester, laughed while he ruined their plans, they didn't know what to do. Their criticisms appeared to roll off him by fifteen. He countered everything they said with “then stop me” or “why should I listen to the weak?”. Soon enough, he had no relationship with any of them at all.

It was better that way. He was alone, always alone. He mistook their control and manipulation for love, and swore to never make that mistake again. Satoru also wasn't made to be loved. He was made to commit acts of violence. Satoru didn't exist, had never existed. He was either The Six Eyes or Gojo. When he started at Jujutsu High, it was something he was well versed in.

He was perfect.

Nothing was thrown at him he couldn't take down. His classmates, only two, worked together without him. Shoko was a healer, and he assumed Suguru couldn't be on his level. Everything would be so much easier now if only Satoru never strayed from that kind of thinking. It would have been easier to stay jaded.

The first time they worked together he'd been his typical self, telling Suguru not to get in his way. It instantly became a dick measuring contest. They were fighting each other more than the curses. What mattered was that Suguru stood his ground. He didn't back off from Satoru's bullish attitude or let him get whatever he wanted. Suguru challenged him and it was a real challenge. He probably fell in love with him then and there.

After that he pestered the shit out of him like a stray cat looking for food and a good home. A week went by before Suguru picked up on the reality of the situation. Suguru was a very social person, empathetic and kind. Satoru didn't think he was so easy to read. Suguru and Shoko started inviting him to have lunch with them, which he vehemently objected to. It was one thing to annoy and tease them, and another entirely to actually engage.

Suguru kept trying. He got a little closer when he brought in his DS and asked to play games with him. The real hook line and sinker was when Suguru complimented him. It was casual, and at first Suguru didnt think anything of it. He'd just gently punched Satoru's arm, told him “nice” and continued walking to where they were to be picked up by the driver. Satoru stayed frozen to the spot. He really didn't know what kind of face he had on. Whatever it was struck something in Suguru.

They were inseparable after.

Satoru didn't open up easily of course. Suguru just wedged his way through infinity atom by atom. He paid attention to Satoru. He observed what he liked, what he didn't, and his mannerisms. Suguru adjusted a little, just a little, where he saw Satoru needed leniency. He didn't hesitate to give him shit in other areas. Suguru could tell he liked to argue, and within a month realized that was not the full truth. Satoru didn't have a way to communicate or interact that wasn't fighting, verbally or physically.

Suguru started cutting off the fights. He didn't give in, he just ignored him if Satoru started one for no reason. It worked like a charm on him. He shut up instantly. Sometimes it worked too well, and he could feel himself crawling back into his shell. Somehow, like he had his own variant of six eyes, Suguru saw it happening. He pulled him back out with food or video games or training.

Satoru never told him anything deep. In a way, he felt like he didn't have to. Suguru didn't tell him much either. More often then not they would find themselves sitting on the roof of the school and enjoying the view of Tokyo while eating snacks.

And then Satoru stopped fighting him so much, unless they were being petty. The fights were more like flirting for him at that point. They went on day trips around the city, parks, and entertainment areas. He learned Suguru hated horror movies, which was hilarious considering their occupation. Suguru said it was because the main characters were so hopeless and defenseless. It gave him anxiety to see someone in danger with no ability to do anything. Satoru wasn't sure if he'd ever met someone more pure.

Day trips turned into late nights in each other's dorm rooms. Satoru was aware of his feelings by then. He was already overly touchy and affectionate as a general part of his persona, so Suguru didn't seem to think much of him refusing to sit on the floor or chair. He would only accept sitting on Suguru's bed, and hanging his legs over his lap. This would, inevitably, lead to Satoru placing himself directly in Suguru's lap over several months.

He hung all over him to the point he was sure it was obvious. Suguru didn't hang on him, but he was so gentle with him. No one was ever gentle with him. He could tell when he overextended himself, and brought him ice and aspirin for the days where his migraine dragged him down into bed. Suguru stayed with him on those days. He didn't need to, but he did. Satoru fell more and more in love with him.

Did Suguru notice? Was he taking pity on him or did he feel any sort of the same way back then? Suguru was the kind of person who would see a broken person and want to fix them. Satoru was the kind of person who broke people.

It was his fault Suguru was like this. He lost a fight he promised not to. He could've asked Suguru to stay. The two of them undoubtedly could have beaten Toji the first time around. No, he felt such a need to prove something still. Was it to himself? Was it to Suguru? He'd cost Amanai her life. He'd traumatized Suguru because he watched her brains get blown out only inches from his face.

Satoru didn't know how to tell him he had seen worse. He wasn't even cognizant at the time to. Suguru wasn't desensitized to real violence. He hadn't seen the full extent of curses could do and did do. Satoru didn't like his family, and he still felt bad for how he'd watched some of them go down. There were worse things than death. He'd assumed Suguru would bounce back the same way he did. Suguru would throw up, scream, and need a week or two to shove the horrifying realizations down until he could keep going. There was no option but to keep going.

Satoru was wrong. He thought a year was a long time, but considered it was due to Suguru not growing up a sorcerer. Maybe he needed more time. Satoru was so fucking wrong. He was wrong because Suguru was kind, and giving, and emotional, and sweet and fuck…

Suguru was not made to be a knife, but he melt himself down and reforged himself to one. In that process, Satoru fell by the wayside. He stopped being Satoru, and became The Strongest, The Honored One. He jogged ahead thinking Suguru was only a few steps behind but when he looked back he couldn't even see him. The gap between them became a canyon in such a short time. Suguru resented him for it. He couldn't blame him for that. It was a shitty thing to do to a friend.

Suguru didn't stop there though. He treated Satoru's success like it came easy to him, looked at him like he was an invincible barrier. Did he already forget he died? Suguru probably wished he stayed dead and his equal then became this. He didn't know that he ran infinity and RCT all the time. He didn't know that more often than not, Satoru didn't sleep. If he slept, infinity would turn off, RCT would turn off. Satoru used to love being bundled up in blankets and comfy in bed. Now? He couldn't even stand letting his clothes touch him. Nothing and no one would ever touch him again.

Except Suguru. But Satoru became Gojo to him. Suguru had the nerve to still call him by his first name. He had the nerve to make him hope he saw him. He didn't, and it killed him every time he thought about it.

Suguru was jealous of his power. If he had it Suguru said to him, like hundreds of others did. It was so hard to believe any of it was real. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to consider Suguru was using him the whole time. The feeling clawed at him from the inside, screaming for him to let go of such stupid, naive thoughts. He wasn't a weapon to Suguru, but he wasn't a person either. He was a project. He was something for Suguru to fix and use to make himself feel like a good person.

Suguru held a knife to his throat until he opened up, and now he left him bleeding out what little hope he held to be cared for, or loved.

He didn't even ask Satoru to go with him. Suguru wanted to do this insane plan himself. He was done with Satoru Gojo. He'd served as a hard lesson for Suguru, and now that he learned it, he had no interest in staying. Suguru made Satoru better, and kinder. Satoru made Suguru worse.

Everything felt so contradictory. He was so hurt and angry with Suguru, but did he have any right to be? It was Suguru who told him when he was being ridiculous or snide. Now Suguru thought mass murder and genocide were great options. He could not guide Satoru. If Suguru snapped and turned on him, would anyone think it was Suguru's fault?

Everyone loved Suguru. He was a full package deal. Satoru had a pretty face and body, but it stopped there unless someone needed a knife. Everyone warmed up around Suguru. He made the room feel lively when he walked into it. Satoru watched when he did and peoples faces lit up because of him. He was beautiful inside and out.

They put up with Satoru because of him.

He shouldn't be upset with Suguru, should he? Shoko didn't seem to be, even if she told him to try and talk to Suguru. No one else would be either.

Satoru did it to himself, because he couldn't help it. He pulled away, and moved too fast in search of success and validation. It hurt that Suguru saw him as a thing, but Satoru saw himself the same way. It was only Suguru who goaded himself into the idea that Satoru was a person with needs and feelings. How could he be mad when he proved him wrong by so easily ignoring his suffering? Satoru was a weapon, and that was just something he had to readjust to. He had a purpose and a use. If he did not fulfill those, then there was no place for him. Satoru did not belong with people as a friend, let alone a lover. He'd ruin them.

The way the thoughts cycled on repeat in his head, maybe he'd piece himself back together sooner than later. If not, as long as he could still do his missions then it was fine. They took up full days. He probably wouldn't even notice time passing.

Ah, he was still sitting in the alley and looking at the sky. How long had it been? He wanted Suguru to come back and tell him it was a big joke. Satoru knew he wasn't coming back. He needed to move. There was a mission due tonight, and he couldn't be late to the pickup spot.

Slowly, he stood up and made his way back to school.