Chapter Text
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Diffuse
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Sleeping through the start, you woke to find that the dream you knew was dead and gone.
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Nobody ever talks about how the process of being sealed is incredibly uncomfortable.
In Satoru's experience, not only was it a physically unpleasant sensation, but there was also an absurd element of humiliation that he was fairly sure nothing else could replicate. Unable to move, barely able to breathe, and completely at the mercy of his adversary, Satoru was being forced to listen to Suguru's gloating while halfway stuck in the Prison Realm.
"I'll admit, I'm surprised, Satoru." Suguru scoffed. "You're more proficient when it comes to handling dream-based techniques than most sorcerers alive today. You should have known that she wasn't really here."
"Unlike you, I'm not willing to risk her life." Satoru rolled his eyes. He almost wished they would just get on with it; it was annoying to listen to Suguru pretend he cared more about you than Satoru did.
"You coddle her too much." Suguru shrugged. "She's tougher than you give her credit for—how do you think she made it before you or I got involved?"
"Tough?" Satoru sneered. "Of course she's tough. If she wasn't tough, then there's no way that she would have survived what happened when you 'got involved', Suguru."
"Don't pretend that you've been all good for her either." Suguru waved a hand. "At least I'm making a real effort to keep her safe through all of this."
"What do you mean by that—?"
Suguru grinned then, flashing his signature, sinister smile at Satoru.
"I'm saying that you're too used to your cursed technique protecting you. You've been neglecting your defensive strategies, Satoru."
Satoru suddenly got the feeling that he had started this round without reading all the rules first. He looked around, using his Six Eyes to see past all of the comatose non-sorcerers that were still standing around the station. It was barely detectable, a thread of cursed energy that would go completely unnoticed by anyone other than Satoru, and even he hadn't seen it until he was really looking.
"I should have killed you and squashed that damn bug." Satoru growled.
Suguru laughed. "That's exactly why I made you vow that you wouldn't."
Suguru pulled out a cell phone and began reading through a few new messages. Satoru wondered if his best friend had always been so rude; the very least Suguru could have done was finish sealing him before he started checking his phone.
"Looks like our little dreamer is going to be later than expected." Suguru sighed. "That's too bad; I really wanted to let her say goodbye, but I suppose it's good that she's sleeping so well."
Satoru was lucky that he was presently incapacitated by the Prison Realm, because he was fairly sure that the implication of you actually showing up to this disaster when he couldn't actively do anything to protect you was enough for him to involuntarily break the binding vow he had made with Suguru.
"Suguru, I swear—"
That was all Satoru got out before Suguru cut him off.
"Gate close."
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The bed was cold.
Not cooling, like it might have been if Gojo had gotten up to handle something that couldn't wait until morning, but cold.
Cold. Vacant. Empty for long enough that the only sign he had even been there was the sweet, musky smell of him laced through the sheets.
His residual cursed energy was fading, too. Gojo had a lingering presence, one that you had become intimately familiar with during the time he had spent watching you from the shadows. You were used to the rhythm of his cursed energy, the way it bloomed in the morning and dissipated throughout the day until he returned. While Gojo no longer fully suppressed himself around you, he did often mute his energy intentionally in the evenings to make it easier for you to sleep.
This was different.
Gojo hadn't just stepped out. He had left entirely, and he had been gone for a while.
You had grown used to being by yourself in the apartment, but that comfort was heavily rooted in the predictability of Gojo's routine. Breaks in pattern made you anxious, even when Gojo was standing right beside you. Breaks in pattern without Gojo around were another beast entirely.
It had to be a nightmare. One of those meta dreams, the kind that played on the horror of waking to find that your nightmare was real. First you had dreamt of Gojo being sealed, and now you were dreaming about how horrible it would be if that were really happening.
Checking if you were dreaming was second nature. It was one of the very first things that you did on encountering something that didn't feel quite right. You often found yourself doing it even when things seemed totally normal, utilizing your reality checking to ground yourself and reduce your anxiety. Usually, confirming whether you were dreaming or awake was the quickest way to sober yourself in a situation like this one.
Finding that you were not asleep instantly made every emotion that you were feeling worse.
Getting out of the bed was suddenly the scariest thing you could imagine. Everything beyond the comfort of the silken sheets felt dangerous and unknown. The shadows in the bedroom seemed to twist and warp, transforming themselves into curses and sorcerers and higher ups with an agenda. Despite your best efforts, you often felt as if your strength and successes all depended on Gojo's presence for validation. Without the strongest sorcerer to back you up, you were little more than a reformed curse user with a checkered past.
Maybe if you just stayed right where you were, Gojo would return and help you feel safe again.
It didn't take long for your plan of inaction to fail.
The sound of the apartment's private elevator opening inspired equal parts hope and fear. While you did feel the heavy pressure that accompanied the presence of powerful sorcerers, you could tell that Gojo was decidedly not in the mix.
You didn't have anything you could use to defend yourself. The cursed blade that had until so recently served as your teddy bear was gone, not that you were incredibly skilled with weapons to begin with. Your domain was technically a possible option if you got the jump on them, but you weren't actually sure how to properly expand it while you were awake.
If you somehow managed it, you might be able to bring them under before they could realize what was happening, but if they were at all informed about your technique…well, you could already tell from the raw power of these sorcerers that you would instantly lose if it came to a battle of domains.
The least you could do for yourself was put some pants on right? You really did not want to deal with whatever happened next in a tiny, black nightie.
There didn't seem to be time for that though; you could hear the sorcerers making their way into the apartment.
Trying to create as little noise as possible, you slid out of bed, crept over to the bedroom door, and cracked it open.
"So, how did you become a guy, anyway?" You could hear a young man's voice leaking through the sliver of open space.
"For the last time, I have always been 'a guy'…" A different, extremely exasperated young man responded.
You leaned in toward the door, peering out into the dimly lit kitchen to see two figures standing near the bar. They were younger than you were expecting; you were hesitant to even call them men. They looked no older than Okkotsu Yuta, the student of Gojo's you had met the year prior, although said student was the reason that you knew better than to underestimate sorcerers based on their age alone.
One of them tried a light switch, flipping on the lights in the living room.
"…are you sure? You looked really robot-y the last time I saw you."
The speaker was a very confused-looking teenager with a salmon undercut. He wore a familiar uniform, which all but confirmed your suspicion that he was a student. The fashionable, red collar on his top matched his shoes, a personal detail that had Gojo written all over it. Although the teen didn't strike you as an incredibly serious person, he emanated a terrifying aura that also reminded you of Gojo, but in perhaps the worst way possible. Outside of this kid's clear strength, there was something distinctly malevolent about the power radiating off of him.
"Okay, and—? You had recently risen from the dead the last time I saw you."
The other person seemed a little more mature. He had dark hair, most of which was pulled back into a scraggly ponytail. There was a large, angular scar that ran from his jawline up across his cheek. His own uniform looked a little different, though it was still clear he was a young sorcerer and likely a student as well.
"You know what? That's fair, Mechamaru." The first kid smiled.
"I already told you, Mechamaru is just an alias for my robot body—"
"Wait, I thought you weren't the robot…?"
This…was not what you were expecting from two sorcerers breaking into the apartment in Gojo's absence. They weren't really doing much of anything, apparently content to stand by the kitchen island and casually argue.
Well, one of them was arguing. The other mostly seemed confused.
"Itadori, I cannot emphasize enough that I am a person who happens to use a robotic avatar—"
Itadori?
As in, Itadori Yuji, eater of cursed fingers and recommender of awful films? Gojo's (most recently acquired) problematic student, Itadori Yuji?
The kid who was capable of successfully suppressing the notorious King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna?
"Excuse me—" You were pushing the bedroom door open before you could properly realize that what you were doing was unfathomably stupid. "Are you Gojo's students?"
The two teenagers whipped around, looking much more afraid than you felt people who were breaking in with bad intentions would.
"Nice going, Kokichi, you woke her up with your yelling—"
"Are you—were you just fucking with me?"
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As it turned out, you were correct about one of the sorcerers being Gojo's student. The other, Muta Kokichi, was a student at another sorcery school.
"You should really go back to bed, ma'am." Muta urged.
"How am I supposed to sleep knowing that Satoru is in trouble?" You asked.
"Trouble?" Itadori waved a hand dismissively. "It's Gojo, he'll be fine; there's nothing he can't handle."
"Ah, right, I'm so silly." You rolled your eyes. "Satoru would totally send two strange sorcerers to keep an eye on me because everything is fine."
Itadori and Muta exchanged a nervous glance.
"He—he was just really worried about you since he had to leave so suddenly." Itadori tried.
"I'm not stupid." You snapped, crossing your arms.
You really weren't.
Barely capable of existing outside your carefully constructed prison? Perhaps. Anxious beyond belief on a good day? Yes, definitely. Liable to break down after anything remotely stressful? Absolutely.
However, unlike the woman you had been a few months ago, you were perfectly capable of holding yourself together for something like this—at least, you could do so until you had a more appropriate opportunity to crumble.
Unfortunately for the people charged with handling you, you were a skilled strategist trained to gamify your reality and analyze all variables for maximum chance of success. Moreover, you were absolutely willing to gamble that neither of the two children in front of you could expand their domains.
Sure, it was true that you had never expanded your domain while you were awake on purpose…but they probably didn't know that.
Gojo had a tendency to only explain things to the degree that they absolutely needed explaining. These kids clearly understood that you were important to Gojo, and therefore they knew that you were not to be damaged. If you were lucky, they would also know that you were his pet curse user.
And if you were really lucky, they would know that your technique was Dream Dealer.
In the end, it was hardly a fight.
"I'm going to Shibuya." You said, toeing on your toughest-looking bunny slippers. "Please don't try to stop me—I would really hate to waste energy putting two kids down for a nap."
It seemed like neither of them were prepared for you to behave the way that you were. In all honesty, you weren't prepared for it either, but you were surprising yourself all the time these days.
It almost felt like you didn't have a choice, like you were completely powerless to resist this compulsion to get involved with rescuing Gojo. Knowing that he was in trouble, how could you ever manage to sit around and wait? It just wasn't possible. You couldn't bear the thought of abandoning Gojo when he would never have done the same to you.
"How did you know that Gojo is in Shibuya…?" Itadori asked, earning him a slap upside the head from his companion.
"She might not have known for sure, dumbass!" Muta hissed.
"They're trying to seal him, right?" You asked, pulling on your coat. You still had no idea where your wallet was, but you weren't above making one of the sorcerer's foot the bill for a cab.
"Wait—" Muta grabbed your arm. "How do you know about that?"
You shrugged.
"I had a dream about it."
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As it turned out, threatening children was not only extremely effective, it also resulted in your arriving in Shibuya faster than should have been possible.
The automaton holding you touched down just outside of an enormous barrier. You were a little windblown, but honestly, the journey had made you feel more awake and invigorated than a bullet train ride ever could have.
More importantly, the speedy travel method hadn't left you with any spare time to rethink your rash decision.
The scene in Shibuya was scarily similar to what you had witnessed in your dream. Dream Dealer was not a technique that inherently lent clairvoyance, but you knew better than most that there were things about dreams that no one could truly explain.
Gojo really isn't going to be happy about this, maybe we should have tried harder to stop her—
She's Gojo's girlfriend, right? That means she's gotta be strong, so it'll probably be fine—
Ignoring the teenagers bickering behind you, you pushed a hand into the barrier, only to be yanked backward by the collar of your coat.
"You shouldn't pass through that curtain, miss." An unfamiliar voice called. "I don't know if any of us can follow you."
You turned around, finding an enormous, black and white, wolf-like creature sitting directly behind you. Horrifying as it looked, the beast's tail was still thumping against the ground, and you got the immediate impression that it was friendly. Walking up to stand beside it was an additional teenage boy, although you recognized this one from a few photos that you had seen on Gojo's phone.
Fushiguro Megumi. Like Itadori, he was also one of Gojo's first year students, though he had the notable distinction of also technically being Gojo's ward. He looked just as serious as he had in those photos, and you got the feeling that he was rarely anything but.
"Itadori, you idiot—" Fushiguro sighed. "Why didn't you do what you were supposed to? Get her out of here before things get messier."
"She threatened to knock us out with her domain, what were we supposed to do?" Itadori shrugged.
"And you just folded?" Fushiguro balked. "Fuck's sake, you could have at least gotten her dressed."
"I'm telling you, there was no stopping her—"
"Itadori's right, she would have made it here on her own if we didn't comply—"
"Are you three going to keep arguing like I'm not here, or is someone going to explain what's going on before I have to find out on my own?" You asked, inching toward the barrier again.
"Wait, please don't—" Fushiguro, who was evidently the smartest of the three, pleaded.
"Why shouldn't I?" You asked. "Satoru is still somewhere behind this barrier, right?"
"You shouldn't because it's extremely dangerous, and yours is not a technique suited for combat."
You whipped around to find that yet another man had spawned in. This one was decidedly an adult, which meant you were unlikely to be able to manipulate him.
For a sorcerer who appeared to have been dealing with whatever the hell was happening in Shibuya, the man before you looked exceptionally put together. His blonde hair was perfectly styled, his button up shirt wrinkle-free, and his tinted lenses were totally free of scratches and smudges.
The only thing that was even remotely out of place was his cheetah-print tie, which had been loosened.
The sorcerer eyed you, looking down at you in a way that made you think he already knew much more about you than you would be able to guess about him.
"That, and Gojo has made some very…explicit threats regarding what will happen if you're not kept safe in his absence."
The addition of this adult sorcerer had significantly lowered your chances of doing what you came here to do. Understanding that, you didn't think about your next move, mostly because it would have involved losing precious time that could have allowed the people around you to act.
"Well—" You said, taking a step backward through the barrier. "Sounds like you had better figure out how to get this barrier down then."
The last thing you saw before the barrier obscured your vision of the space outside of it, were three shocked children, and one very exasperated adult man.
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You weren't alone for nearly as long as you expected. Immediately after stepping through the barrier, you were followed by the automaton that had been responsible for transporting you to the station.
"Please return immediately." It was Muta's voice that came out of the robot's mouth. "We cannot guarantee your safety if you continue."
"Go do what you need to do, then." You said. "I didn't ask for you to protect me."
"…you are more troublesome than was described."
The robot, who you learned was the 'Mechamaru' that Itadori had been referring to earlier, followed you closely as you navigated the area around the station. There were some people in costume roaming the streets, although the area was much less crowded than it had been in your dream. That made you nervous; it was unlikely that there were fewer people around because they had managed to escape.
You had been wandering for about an hour, and you still hadn't found any sign of what you were searching for yet. In truth, you weren't entirely sure what exactly you were looking for, but you had a strange feeling that you would know it when you saw it.
Standing at the entrance to the subway, you tried to push down the instinct to run far, far, far away. It smelled like death down there, like blood and shit and the distinctly sick, acrid smell of cursed spirits.
"We should take care to stay above ground." Mechamaru advised. "There are strong cursed spirits lurking deeper inside the station."
"You can fight, right?" You asked, gripping the handrail for support as you descended the stairs to the subway.
You had forgotten just how much you hated curses while you were in Gojo's care. He never let them even get close, destroying everything that dared to come within a couple blocks of the apartment.
It was another reason you couldn't bring yourself to run now. Gojo had done so much for you; the very least you could do was try to get him out of this mess.
Mechamaru was correct; there were definitely powerful curses nearby. You could sense them, could feel their oppressive presence thickening the air as you made your way down. It was upon hitting the next floor down that you felt something even worse, the familiar, miserable aura of the curse you had hoped you would never encounter again.
When you thought of that curse, you always pictured it as it had appeared as a curse womb. While creepy and annoying, the weak, spider form of your curse was not nearly as unsettling as the fully-fledged cursed spirit.
Too many eyes, too many legs, sharp and angular and brightly colored in the way that dangerous animals might be, your curse was hanging upside down from a thread of cursed energy, right there in the middle of Shibuya Station. Around it were dozens of people, all stuck in the cursed web that it had weaved.
You thought Gojo had killed it.
The idea of its continued existence alone was enough to make you want to give up and go home, to return to the apartment and hide until somebody else saved the day.
Feeling obligated to save the man who saved you was perhaps the stupidest impulse you had ever given in to, but you had been unable to sit with the fact that the man you loved was suffering on his own.
What had you been thinking? You weren't capable of fighting off cursed spirits. You could barely handle waking up without Gojo next to you.
However, returning up the stairs wasn't an option anymore. Another cursed spirit had appeared. It looked a bit like a volcanic old man, although its appearance was decidedly more curselike than human. Its skin was an unnatural shade of periwinkle, and it had one, enormous eye right in the center of its face.
On seeing you, the spirit's bored expression morphed into a creepy grin.
"Hey, Mechamaru—" You whispered. "You can fight, right?"
Mechamaru turned to you. Though the robotic avatar wasn't capable of changing its expression, you had a feeling that if it could, it would be wearing one of profound annoyance.
"…yes." Mechamaru replied.
"That's good." You smiled. "Because you're going to need to."
With that, you took off, running down the next flight of stairs as fast as you could. You could hear what sounded like explosions behind you, and even though you had already made significant ground, you could still feel the intense heat generated by Mechamaru's battle with the curse radiating down the stairway.
You were so distracted by the sensation that you ran directly into someone who was on their way up the stairs.
"Hey, lady, you need to—oh, it's you!"
Itadori Yuji looked worse for wear. The kid was a little beat up, and he had quite of bit of curse goo stuck to his uniform. He had clearly been doing a lot of fighting since you had last seen him, which made you feel incredibly guilty considering he was originally intended to be out of harm's way while watching over you.
"Where's Mechamaru?" Itadori asked.
"He's upstairs fighting, but I don't think we should—"
You trailed off, too startled by the appearance of a ghost to continue your sentence.
Of course, Geto Suguru wasn't a ghost by any means, but you had been under the impression that he was long dead.
"There you are, sweetheart." Geto cooed. "I was starting to get worried."
Itadori whirled around, preparing to engage a sorcerer that you already knew he had no chance of winning against, only to be slammed against the tiled wall by a nearly imperceptible projectile.
A man with tired eyes and oddly-styled pigtails flew past you in a blur of white and purple, shouting Itadori's name as he went. Itadori got up just in time, narrowly avoiding another blow before running off to fight in an area where he could move around more freely.
You couldn't focus on that though, not when Geto was approaching you with clear intent in his gaze.
The situation was familiar in the worst way. Unlike the last time you had dealt with Geto, you were fully aware of your past with the man before you. This was a man who knew you inside and out, a man who could predict any move you might make before you had even settled on what you were planning to do.
Geto was practically on top of you before you could even decide if you should attempt to run.
The sound of Itadori fighting with the man who had attacked him faded into the background, drowned out by the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.
"You look like you don't want to be here anymore." Geto commented, not bothering to hide his amusement. "Would you like me to help you leave?"
He looked down at you, those dark, violet eyes creasing in the corners as he smiled, a smile you had once managed to find comforting. Now, however, you could only see Geto for the snake he was.
Trembling, you wondered if he had always seen you as a mouse.
You thought about the place you had just been, the floor above where your curse waited patiently with its trap. You thought of the cursed spirit that you had left Mechamaru behind to fight, and the silence and stillness that had quickly followed as you fled. You thought of Itadori, who was only in this mess because he was assigned to watch over you, and the fact that you could already sense his cursed energy wavering in the distance.
While you wouldn't have said that impulsivity was one of your most prominent flaws, you did consider it to be your most regrettable. The second guesses always came too late, usually accompanied by profound guilt and the weighty consequences of your actions.
Although going anywhere with Geto Suguru was one of the very last things that you wanted to do, it still ranked above staying where you were and causing more problems than you already had.
Pushing down the urge to cry, you looked up at Geto and nodded.
"Tch—" Geto tutted, a look of mock disappointment on his face. "Use your words, sweetheart. Let me know exactly what you want me to do for you."
The flare of anger that his words incited was nothing compared to the blaze of fear you felt as you saw the volcano curse pass by you. It ignored you entirely, disappearing in the direction that Itadori had gone.
You were in over your head. There might have even been a small part of you that knew you had been the entire time. You just couldn't bear to wait around and hope that everything was going to be fine, not when it came to the safety of the person you loved.
Up until this point, you had been feeling like you might actually be capable of surmounting the problems in your life. Maybe it was partially due to overconfidence, a high you were still riding from accomplishing a goal you had always believed to be impossible to achieve.
But it wasn't like you had mastered the art of using Dream Dealer; all you had really managed to do was prevent it from activating outside your will. What use was the ability to close your domain if you weren't even sure you could apply your cursed technique when you really needed to?
The tears you had been holding back filled your eyes, your throat burning with the effort of keeping your feelings contained.
"I don't want to be here anymore, Suguru." Your words were tense, your voice trembling with anguish and rage. "Will you help me?"
"Oh, of course." Geto's words were a blade wrapped in velvet, his voice brimming with the knowledge that everything was going his way. "Come here, let's get you somewhere you can rest. It's getting late, you should really be in bed."
Geto extended a hand toward you, his smile only growing wider when you flinched at what he revealed what he was holding.
You had been right, you did know it when you saw it.
An ancient keychain with a tiny Magic 8 Ball attached.
Geto took your hand in his, the toy seated firmly between your palms.
"Is Satoru okay?" You asked meekly, your bunny slippers dragging along the ground as you allowed Geto to take you down into the subway tunnels.
"Worried about him?" Geto hummed. "You don't have to be, he's Gojo Satoru, after all."
"Where is he?" You frowned.
"Sweetheart, I think you already know—" Geto pulled on your hand, placing it on his side where something hard was hidden deep within his robes. "Satoru's right here with us."
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Walking with Geto, you got the feeling that you had been used again. It was difficult to understand just why you had felt so compelled to come here, and you were much too exhausted to try to pull answers out of the curse user beside you.
You had been tired of fighting long before leaving Gojo's apartment that night, though you had still been resigned to do whatever you felt was needed. Miserable as it could be to push forward day in and day out, you still always had that shining light to follow throughout your bleakest days. No matter how tough things became, Gojo always managed to stay beacon bright.
Trudging forward in those subway tunnels, you couldn't see a single thing.
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Gojo's girlfriend was perfect for him.
You were just as inconsiderate and reckless as the strongest sorcerer himself.
Megumi made a conscious effort to unclench his jaw. He and Itadori had made quick work of the barrier, but it had still taken too long. In that time, you had already disappeared into the bowels of the subway station. They had needed to split up. Itadori volunteered to go find you, leaving Megumi to follow after Nanami.
A bunch of weird things happened after that. Megumi spent most of his energy squaring up against the domain of a cursed spirit that clearly outmatched him, but he and his fellow sorcerers managed to survive because of a strange interloper. Said interloper had then attacked him, only to end up killing himself after suddenly asking questions about Megumi's identity.
It had been going fairly well, all things considered.
That was, until Megumi had needed to summon Mahoraga.
Calling on that legendary shikigami hadn't been his first choice, but Megumi would have been lying if he said that the act didn't bring him some relief. He was tired, after all. Tired of fighting, tired of killing, tired of dealing with everything awful that came along with being a sorcerer. If Megumi had been able to choose for himself, he never would have started down this path to begin with.
At least this way he could choose his end. That was an option rarely afforded to jujutsu sorcerers.
The last thing that Megumi expected was to wake up, though the circumstances quickly began to make sense when he saw the complete devastation surrounding him. He thought he had felt it earlier, he had just been hoping that he was wrong.
Somehow, somewhere along the way, Sukuna had gotten himself involved.
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Yuji had stopped thinking a while ago. Nearly dying in combat had been enough to effectively weaken him. Viscerally experiencing every sin that Sukuna had used his body to commit was his absolute breaking point. It was only once Todo had helped him rid himself of his ego that Yuji had realized he didn't need to think so hard.
All he had to do was reduce himself. Yuji needed to become a tool, a tool that did whatever job was in front of it. A cog whose sole purpose was to move the greater machine forward.
The creature before Yuji was unfamiliar.
At first, he had almost taken it for a weakling like the grasshopper curse he had fought earlier. This curse was almost spider-like in appearance, a being with more appendages than felt natural for something vaguely bipedal. It looked exceptionally peaceful, almost as if it was sleeping standing up. Seeing the carnage around it, Yuji knew better than to believe that it would remain inert for long.
Honestly, he had forgotten about you. Though he vaguely remembered finding you again, Yuji had eventually assumed you were either dead or that you had been successfully subdued and saved.
Seeing you standing beside the Geto Suguru was just surprising enough to throw him off his game.
Actually, you weren't just standing next to Geto. You were clinging to him. You looked desperately afraid, your eyes locked on the spidery cursed spirit. It was a look that Yuji knew well, though it was a expression he had seen more often on the faces of civilians than sorcerers. It was so devastatingly different to the woman who had charged out of Gojo's apartment earlier that night, and it made him wonder just exactly who his teacher had stashed away in that penthouse.
Perhaps Yuji had been wrong about you.
Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't a complete idiot. Yuji had assumed that your status meant you were more like Geto Suguru, but now it seemed that you might be subject to the same sort of stipulations as Yuji.
Maybe it was best to leave you in the hands of someone capable of weathering the fallout for now. Unsealing Gojo was going to be a priority, and your safety was likely to become optional to people who didn't understand what you meant to Gojo.
After all, it was the same for Yuji. Without Gojo to protect him, Yuji knew it was only a matter of time before the higher ups demanded retribution for what he had let happen in Shibuya.
Gojo would probably forgive him for this, right? It wasn't like Yuji was being left with many other options. With the help of someone like Geto Suguru, you would at least be able to get through this night. Once Gojo was unsealed, things would begin to work themselves out, your situation included.
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Man, I really messed up.
Satoru was a master of acceptance. It was necessary for someone like him. A person who could feasibly do anything still had to be able to accept that possible didn't equate to possible. Not everything that Satoru wanted could coexist all at once. Sometimes he had to be willing to let things progress naturally in hopes that he could potentially have everything he wanted under different conditions.
He really should have killed Geto Suguru though, consequences of breaking a binding vow be damned.
Of course, Satoru didn't actually want to do kill Suguru. As many problems as Suguru caused, Satoru had never wanted to be the one to have to ensure that his best friend was stopped.
Still, Satoru would have eventually accepted it.
What Satoru couldn't accept was his failure to protect you. He had been blinded by his own hubris, foolishly believing that he had it all handled on his own. You had tried to warn him, had tried to make it clear to him that you thought things weren't as simple as they seemed, but Satoru had willfully ignored you.
This was all happening because of Satoru's one true desire, the only thing that the strongest sorcerer dared to covet.
It was his own fault, Satoru knew that. He liked the way you made him feel normal, loved the way that he could pretend his life didn't revolve around being a living weapon whose sole purpose was to hurt in the direction he was pointed. With you, Satoru could hold together a fantasy of being someone who healed.
Of someone who was healing.
Domesticity was an irresistible bonus, a game of make-believe that you didn't even realize he was playing with you. Perhaps that was part of the problem, because the further Satoru let things go, the less willing he was to break the illusion. He wanted it all to be real, wanted to never have to wake up from the dream that he was living. Satoru thought he could force that dream to manifest, and had consequentially brought about a new nightmare.
In the Prison Realm, surrounded by an aching emptiness as final as death itself, Satoru accepted his most unfortunate reality yet.
There wasn't anything he could do. Satoru would just have to hope that everyone else could handle things without him, that someone would care enough to ensure that you were alive at the end of it.
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There was nothing he could do but wait.
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