[ Well, that’s evasive as hell. Yuji has never been a good liar, and even a decade hasn’t diminished Suguru’s ability to spot it.
Does he want to know? Rationally, he knows that nothing will change now, and whatever time Yuji came from before doesn’t exist anymore. So does it matter? Not necessarily. But Suguru can feel the curiosity sitting just under his skin. He’s always looking to understand, looking for meaning, and what meaning did he find in another time? Mulling over his best approach, Suguru reaches for Yuji’s hand, pretending to inspect the black polish to assess if he should start on the last coat. ]
I might have gotten hurt or I did? [ He glances up with a cocked brow. ]
Does it matter if you tell me? You changed everything already, so what’s the harm in knowing?
It might matter. How am I meant to know what matters and what doesn't? Half of this world doesn't make sense to me any more.
[ He has a mother in this world, for one, somewhere out there. His grandpa had told him that. Suguru is alive and Gojo-sensei seems happier, and Megumi and Nobara don't know him as anyone different. It's a strange ache, to have people not remember the grief and trauma he's been through, but at least they're happy for it.
He draws his fingers away from Suguru's touch, feeling pained by it rather than comforted. This isn't what he wants. Even letting him paint his nails was a mistake, because it means they're this close and Yuji is so vulnerable. ]
Yuji practically retreats from Suguru, curling into himself and shuttering away, and Suguru knows he's pushed in the wrong way, prodded at something sore and unwelcome. He doesn't grab Yuji's hand back, even though part of him desperately wants to. ]
You don't have to go. [ Please stay. This feels like the longest he's been in a room with Yuji since the teen reappeared, and an inadvertent, sharp ache accompanies the idea of him leaving now.
(Even if Suguru should be encouraging the distance. Even if painting Yuji's nails was a bad idea and he knows it.) ]
But you’re free to leave, if you want to. [ Suguru won't deny Yuji his escape, especially when he knows it's probably for the best. ]
[ The words come out sharply, a little cruel and mean, a bitterness in him that's unfamiliar. Yuji's been angry before, filled with a kind of rage that he can never share with anyone else, but this? This is just hurt, burning inside of him and making him feel weak. ]
It wasn't even a month ago that we were in love and I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life taking care of you, and now - now I'm just a student. I'm nothing special, and that's fine, it's whatever, Suguru, you're grown up now and a teacher, and it isn't right, but...
[ He blinks, lifting his hand to cover his face. ]
This isn't fair. How come I made everyone else so much happier but ruined everything for myself?
[ Suguru is obviously taken aback by the venom in Yuji’s voice. He’s not sure he’s ever heard Yuji like that before – or certainly never in Suguru’s direction. The pain in his words, the clear anguish he’s experiencing – it resonates with a pain that Suguru has mourned for a decade now, and it’s not fair that such an intense and important reality could slip his notice. Once again, Suguru has had time that Yuji has not been afforded. To recover, to grieve, to come to terms with his losses and rebuild. But the thing that Yuji has wanted to preserve so desperately was wrenched away from him and made nigh-unattainable because of the enormous chasm between them now.
Yuji fixed the world for everyone else and shattered his own.
Suguru moves before his good sense catches up to his brain and reaches across the space between them, rising onto his knees to pull Yuji close and into his arms. Suguru couldn’t help the way he hugged Yuji when he first found him again, but he’s been careful to avoid a repeat incident back at school. But now, seeing Yuji in so much pain, the scars Suguru had thought healed are practically threatening to burst open all over again – and it’s like his body can only fathom one solution to the immense swell of empathy.
He has to hold Yuji. ]
It’s not fair. [ Suguru’s voice is so quiet, the faintest crack of emotion making him hoarse. ]
You did everything right and it’s not fair. [ Because that was what Suguru wanted, too. He thought that they’d spend their lives after graduation together, maybe even change things for the next generation of sorcerers – together.
[ Yuji doesn't want to sink into his arms, he doesn't want to accept the comfort that Suguru is offering him, but he's powerless to break away from him and pull back. He can't do it, not when his heart is so full of pain and all he wants is to wrap himself up in the man he loves and never let himself go. His stomach is in knots, but there's nothing he can do to get rid of it, not when the one thing he wants is so far out of reach.
He's still Sukuna's vessel, but it's less of a threat now that Kenjaku's plans aren't going to unfold in front of them. He's still destined to die, and he's not sure how much of that Suguru actually knows. He's still so perfectly at his mercy, and yet his misery is so obvious that it makes him feel as if he might lose his lunch from trying to keep it buried for so long.
Nothing in his life has been particularly fair, so it's about time that it's caught up with him.
Shaking his head, he tries to pull himself out of Suguru's arms. ]
You - let go of me, Geto- I -
[ Sniffling, the tears capture him, captivate him, and he burns with it, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw the sharp tang of blood. ]
I'll transfer. I'll go away. It'll make it easier.
[ Suguru isn’t selfish enough to hold on when Yuji starts struggling against him, but his stomach twists with something sour and sharp when Yuji says he wants to leave. Suguru just got him back and now he wants to go? ]
Don’t— [ But he stops short, his throat constricting against what he wants to say. He wants to beg Yuji to stay, to be here with him, but how can he? The time that’s passed, the distance between them now… how is it fair to ask Yuji to stay despite it all?
He feels seventeen again, staring at an empty bed and tearing through the school halls looking for any sign of Yuji. His hands shake as he watches the tears rising in Yuji’s eyes, spilling over his cheeks, and Suguru wants so badly to wipe them away.
But no, those tears are his fault. Circumstance may have put them here, but Suguru is the one rejecting Yuji, the one who has to erect the wall between them, so he has no right to offer that comfort. And Yuji doesn’t want it. He wants to escape – from Suguru. ]
You’re not just a student, Yuji. You could never be just a student to me. [ So maybe Yuji should go? But… ]
I can’t— [ Fuck, what is he trying to say? ]
I can’t lose you again. Please.
[ In another moment, he’d never be able to stomach how pathetic he sounds, but the part of himself that never stitched back together at seventeen is bleeding into his words. ]
Yuji isn't Suguru's anymore. He's not the person that Suguru wants. They're not going to be together, the gulf between them obvious and wild, making him hate himself. Why had he ever come back to this time? Why had he been forced into the past? To save Suguru ready for someone else to take him away, to love him for the rest of their lives while he languishes with nothing?
It's horrible, it's terrible, and he drags himself away, the stitches of himself coming undone. He had tried so hard to be good, to be as respectful as Suguru needed, but it's too hard now when the man in front of him is saying the perfect things, the things that he needs to anchor him.
How can he stay?
How could he go?
Biting his lip, he closes his eyes again. ]
If I stay here, all I'll do is keep loving you. You've moved on, Geto-sensei, but I haven't. You have... You have someone else you can love now.
[ Ouch. The words hit their mark and sit like a boulder on Suguru’s chest. He has to ignore the sick pit of his stomach, the threat of his voice breaking, because Yuji is right: Suguru doesn’t have Yuji now. Suguru isn’t seventeen, he’s a father in everything but name to two girls Yuji’s age, and he’s Yuji’s teacher.
It’s cruel of him not to tell Yuji to go. The mature, adult decision would be to ensure Yuji transfers and gets to have— time. Distance. All the things that Suguru was afforded in the last decade, while Yuji was denied the mercy of the same.
But— Yuji’s wrong about one thing, and it’s impossible for Suguru not to correct it. ]
I only ever loved you.
[ There’s been no moving on for Suguru. He’s moved forward, but that’s not the same thing. There have been no relationships, no dates, no others that made their home in Suguru’s heart like Yuji did. Even Satoru never crossed over into the realm beyond “best friend,” because so much of Suguru’s love for Yuji was cordoned off from the rest of his existence, burning bright in the tiny shrine of Suguru’s ribcage and never extinguishing.
He didn’t move on. He just managed to keep taking the next step forward, hoping it was the right one for his girls and the young sorcerers who have come to depend on him as their teacher. ]
[ Yuji stares at Suguru, the tears rolling down his cheeks as he tries to get to grips with the fallout of this moment, all the words slipping out of his mouth stupidly and intensely. He should have kept his mouth shut, he shouldn't have said anything, he should've just left, transferred immediately, but...
How was he meant to leave Suguru behind, when he was alive here, alive and happy, with a chance to flourish and grow and be happy? It didn't matter if Yuji didn't get anything like that, because he just wanted the man he loved to be taken care of and happy. It didn't need to be him, did it?
Wiping at his face, he sniffles, staring at the floor and trying to put the pieces of himself back together. ]
You should. You'd be happier, Geto-sensei. I'm not right for you anymore, you've made that clear, and... I understand.
[ Suguru aches to reach for Yuji again, desperate to kiss away those tears and ensure Yuji knows how loved he's always been—
He grits his teeth, shaking his head adamantly. ]
It's not because of you, Yuji. It wouldn't be fair of me to impose myself on you when you— you haven't even had the time to grow up like I have.
I can't take what's left of your childhood when every last choice since becoming a sorcerer hasn't even been your own.
[ Because all things considered, Yuji shouldn't have been forced into any of these situations. It shouldn't have been his responsibility to "fix the past" – just like it shouldn't be his responsibility to bear Sukuna's curse for the foreseeable future. None of that should have fallen on Yuji's shoulders, and now, as the literal adult between them, shouldn't it be Suguru's obligation to lessen that load? ]
I haven't had a childhood. My parents died, and then my grandpa was gone, and after that I ate Sukuna's finger. After that, everything was terrible, it was all so miserable, and... And...
[ He bows his head, hands shaking. ]
Meeting you was one of the first times I had ever been happy, without any downside. Being able to love someone like you, and be loved in return... I chose to do that. I chose to be happy with you, because nothing else had ever been as good.
[ Fuck. In the same way Suguru's heart broke for Mimiko and Nanako in that village, he feels the sharp sting of empathy for the young man sitting in front of him who's had nothing in his life.
He wants so badly to pull Yuji close, but he keeps his hands in his lap, curled into fists. ]
... I might not be the same person that you loved back then, Yuji. Ten years is a long time, and I could be different from how you remember.
[ The irony is that, unlike the timeline where Yuji originated, Suguru is far closer to the optimistic self of his high school years. He's more jaded, maybe, rougher around the edges than he was as a teenager, but he still has a great deal of hope for the future, for the sorcerers of the next generation. He isn't leading a cult and bilking people out of money and curses for his own means. ]
[ Suguru hates himself a little bit for the warm stirring in his heart hearing Yuji say that. He misses Yuji, so terribly, and that hasn't lessened over the years; to have Yuji here, still promising to love him... how is he supposed to cope? ]
We would have to pretend until you're older. At least around anyone else. [ "We." You and me. ]
[ Hesitating, Suguru's first impulse is to reach for Yuji, but he refrains, instead opening his arms to the teenager in an offering. ]
It it okay if I touch you again?
[ He didn't ask before just grabbing Yuji earlier, and that seems like bad form. His natural inclination to touch and physical comfort superseded his respect for Yuji's personal space, but he doesn't want to cross any unwelcome lines a second time, in case he's misunderstanding Yuji's intent. ]
[ Suguru's brows momentarily lift with surprise, his brain lingering on the split-second it takes to adjust his behavior; he has to remind himself that he's allowed to touch Yuji, that Yuji wants that affection. But it doesn't take long to let his aching need get the better of him – not explicit or lascivious need, but rather, the need to be close to the person he loves.
Reaching out, his arms wind around Yuji, drawing the boy against him just for a hug. His face drops against Yuji's shoulder, his whole body exhaling years of tension he didn't even know was there. ]
[ It feels different, of course. Suguru is larger now, a little stronger, and he’s a bit taller, but other than that… It’s the same as he remembers, curling his arms around the man he loves and cuddling into him, eyes closed as he basks in it. He’s so happy, so content that the joy feels like it might explode out of him. ]
I missed you.
[ The distance, the weeks of staying away from each other, of trying to be good, the hurt and the heartache of it all… They’re all going to be forgotten. ]
[ Suguru's grip tightens around Yuji, his hold a little desperate. ]
... I missed you so much, Yuji.
[ His voice is barely a whisper, like part of him can't quite believe that this is real. For Suguru, it's been ten years without Yuji. And to have him back, dangled in front of him and completely untouchable at the same time, was agony.
Suguru just packed it all away because he's the adult. He's had a decade to grieve, and that meant it was his responsibility to bear the weight of this new separation, to enforce it in Yuji's best interests... and yet, what does it matter in their world? A world of death and curses and pain, dropped into the laps of children.
Are they still children when they make it to the other side? ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Does he want to know? Rationally, he knows that nothing will change now, and whatever time Yuji came from before doesn’t exist anymore. So does it matter? Not necessarily. But Suguru can feel the curiosity sitting just under his skin. He’s always looking to understand, looking for meaning, and what meaning did he find in another time? Mulling over his best approach, Suguru reaches for Yuji’s hand, pretending to inspect the black polish to assess if he should start on the last coat. ]
I might have gotten hurt or I did? [ He glances up with a cocked brow. ]
Does it matter if you tell me? You changed everything already, so what’s the harm in knowing?
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It might matter. How am I meant to know what matters and what doesn't? Half of this world doesn't make sense to me any more.
[ He has a mother in this world, for one, somewhere out there. His grandpa had told him that. Suguru is alive and Gojo-sensei seems happier, and Megumi and Nobara don't know him as anyone different. It's a strange ache, to have people not remember the grief and trauma he's been through, but at least they're happy for it.
He draws his fingers away from Suguru's touch, feeling pained by it rather than comforted. This isn't what he wants. Even letting him paint his nails was a mistake, because it means they're this close and Yuji is so vulnerable. ]
Maybe I should go, sensei.
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Yuji practically retreats from Suguru, curling into himself and shuttering away, and Suguru knows he's pushed in the wrong way, prodded at something sore and unwelcome. He doesn't grab Yuji's hand back, even though part of him desperately wants to. ]
You don't have to go. [ Please stay. This feels like the longest he's been in a room with Yuji since the teen reappeared, and an inadvertent, sharp ache accompanies the idea of him leaving now.
(Even if Suguru should be encouraging the distance. Even if painting Yuji's nails was a bad idea and he knows it.) ]
But you’re free to leave, if you want to. [ Suguru won't deny Yuji his escape, especially when he knows it's probably for the best. ]
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[ The words come out sharply, a little cruel and mean, a bitterness in him that's unfamiliar. Yuji's been angry before, filled with a kind of rage that he can never share with anyone else, but this? This is just hurt, burning inside of him and making him feel weak. ]
It wasn't even a month ago that we were in love and I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life taking care of you, and now - now I'm just a student. I'm nothing special, and that's fine, it's whatever, Suguru, you're grown up now and a teacher, and it isn't right, but...
[ He blinks, lifting his hand to cover his face. ]
This isn't fair. How come I made everyone else so much happier but ruined everything for myself?
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Yuji fixed the world for everyone else and shattered his own.
Suguru moves before his good sense catches up to his brain and reaches across the space between them, rising onto his knees to pull Yuji close and into his arms. Suguru couldn’t help the way he hugged Yuji when he first found him again, but he’s been careful to avoid a repeat incident back at school. But now, seeing Yuji in so much pain, the scars Suguru had thought healed are practically threatening to burst open all over again – and it’s like his body can only fathom one solution to the immense swell of empathy.
He has to hold Yuji. ]
It’s not fair. [ Suguru’s voice is so quiet, the faintest crack of emotion making him hoarse. ]
You did everything right and it’s not fair. [ Because that was what Suguru wanted, too. He thought that they’d spend their lives after graduation together, maybe even change things for the next generation of sorcerers – together.
Nothing about this is fucking fair. ]
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He's still Sukuna's vessel, but it's less of a threat now that Kenjaku's plans aren't going to unfold in front of them. He's still destined to die, and he's not sure how much of that Suguru actually knows. He's still so perfectly at his mercy, and yet his misery is so obvious that it makes him feel as if he might lose his lunch from trying to keep it buried for so long.
Nothing in his life has been particularly fair, so it's about time that it's caught up with him.
Shaking his head, he tries to pull himself out of Suguru's arms. ]
You - let go of me, Geto- I -
[ Sniffling, the tears capture him, captivate him, and he burns with it, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw the sharp tang of blood. ]
I'll transfer. I'll go away. It'll make it easier.
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Don’t— [ But he stops short, his throat constricting against what he wants to say. He wants to beg Yuji to stay, to be here with him, but how can he? The time that’s passed, the distance between them now… how is it fair to ask Yuji to stay despite it all?
He feels seventeen again, staring at an empty bed and tearing through the school halls looking for any sign of Yuji. His hands shake as he watches the tears rising in Yuji’s eyes, spilling over his cheeks, and Suguru wants so badly to wipe them away.
But no, those tears are his fault. Circumstance may have put them here, but Suguru is the one rejecting Yuji, the one who has to erect the wall between them, so he has no right to offer that comfort. And Yuji doesn’t want it. He wants to escape – from Suguru. ]
You’re not just a student, Yuji. You could never be just a student to me. [ So maybe Yuji should go? But… ]
I can’t— [ Fuck, what is he trying to say? ]
I can’t lose you again. Please.
[ In another moment, he’d never be able to stomach how pathetic he sounds, but the part of himself that never stitched back together at seventeen is bleeding into his words. ]
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[ And that's the truth, isn't it?
Yuji isn't Suguru's anymore. He's not the person that Suguru wants. They're not going to be together, the gulf between them obvious and wild, making him hate himself. Why had he ever come back to this time? Why had he been forced into the past? To save Suguru ready for someone else to take him away, to love him for the rest of their lives while he languishes with nothing?
It's horrible, it's terrible, and he drags himself away, the stitches of himself coming undone. He had tried so hard to be good, to be as respectful as Suguru needed, but it's too hard now when the man in front of him is saying the perfect things, the things that he needs to anchor him.
How can he stay?
How could he go?
Biting his lip, he closes his eyes again. ]
If I stay here, all I'll do is keep loving you. You've moved on, Geto-sensei, but I haven't. You have... You have someone else you can love now.
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It’s cruel of him not to tell Yuji to go. The mature, adult decision would be to ensure Yuji transfers and gets to have— time. Distance. All the things that Suguru was afforded in the last decade, while Yuji was denied the mercy of the same.
But— Yuji’s wrong about one thing, and it’s impossible for Suguru not to correct it. ]
I only ever loved you.
[ There’s been no moving on for Suguru. He’s moved forward, but that’s not the same thing. There have been no relationships, no dates, no others that made their home in Suguru’s heart like Yuji did. Even Satoru never crossed over into the realm beyond “best friend,” because so much of Suguru’s love for Yuji was cordoned off from the rest of his existence, burning bright in the tiny shrine of Suguru’s ribcage and never extinguishing.
He didn’t move on. He just managed to keep taking the next step forward, hoping it was the right one for his girls and the young sorcerers who have come to depend on him as their teacher. ]
I didn’t move on, Yuji. It’s only ever been you.
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How was he meant to leave Suguru behind, when he was alive here, alive and happy, with a chance to flourish and grow and be happy? It didn't matter if Yuji didn't get anything like that, because he just wanted the man he loved to be taken care of and happy. It didn't need to be him, did it?
Wiping at his face, he sniffles, staring at the floor and trying to put the pieces of himself back together. ]
You should. You'd be happier, Geto-sensei. I'm not right for you anymore, you've made that clear, and... I understand.
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He grits his teeth, shaking his head adamantly. ]
It's not because of you, Yuji. It wouldn't be fair of me to impose myself on you when you— you haven't even had the time to grow up like I have.
I can't take what's left of your childhood when every last choice since becoming a sorcerer hasn't even been your own.
[ Because all things considered, Yuji shouldn't have been forced into any of these situations. It shouldn't have been his responsibility to "fix the past" – just like it shouldn't be his responsibility to bear Sukuna's curse for the foreseeable future. None of that should have fallen on Yuji's shoulders, and now, as the literal adult between them, shouldn't it be Suguru's obligation to lessen that load? ]
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[ Yuji sniffles, shaking his head. ]
I haven't had a childhood. My parents died, and then my grandpa was gone, and after that I ate Sukuna's finger. After that, everything was terrible, it was all so miserable, and... And...
[ He bows his head, hands shaking. ]
Meeting you was one of the first times I had ever been happy, without any downside. Being able to love someone like you, and be loved in return... I chose to do that. I chose to be happy with you, because nothing else had ever been as good.
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He wants so badly to pull Yuji close, but he keeps his hands in his lap, curled into fists. ]
... I might not be the same person that you loved back then, Yuji. Ten years is a long time, and I could be different from how you remember.
[ The irony is that, unlike the timeline where Yuji originated, Suguru is far closer to the optimistic self of his high school years. He's more jaded, maybe, rougher around the edges than he was as a teenager, but he still has a great deal of hope for the future, for the sorcerers of the next generation. He isn't leading a cult and bilking people out of money and curses for his own means. ]
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[ Yuji sighs softly. ]
I've been around you for weeks since I came back, and I know there's still that same person in there. I just can't... Geto-sensei...
[ Mustering himself, he grips his own arms, closing his eyes tight to force the last tears to squeeze out. ]
I can't do it. Stand here and pretend I don't love you. It's impossible.
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We would have to pretend until you're older. At least around anyone else. [ "We." You and me. ]
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Even people who already knew, like Gojo-sensei?
[ He's almost sure that the other teacher had been trying to get them alone with each other anyway... ]
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Satoru won't be a problem. But Yaga or the other students – that would require more subtlety.
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[ But, wiping his face and cheeks, he takes a tiny step closer. Testing. ]
I can be subtle.
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You're right; it could be worse.
[ A ten-year gap isn't the worst stretch of age between them, so... ]
You still want this, Yuji? Are you sure?
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I've been sure this whole time. I was waiting for you to catch up.
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It it okay if I touch you again?
[ He didn't ask before just grabbing Yuji earlier, and that seems like bad form. His natural inclination to touch and physical comfort superseded his respect for Yuji's personal space, but he doesn't want to cross any unwelcome lines a second time, in case he's misunderstanding Yuji's intent. ]
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[ Yuji moves all the closer now, shifting into Suguru's space and tilting his head up to look at him, eyes warm and soft. ]
Anything you want.
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Reaching out, his arms wind around Yuji, drawing the boy against him just for a hug. His face drops against Yuji's shoulder, his whole body exhaling years of tension he didn't even know was there. ]
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I missed you.
[ The distance, the weeks of staying away from each other, of trying to be good, the hurt and the heartache of it all… They’re all going to be forgotten. ]
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... I missed you so much, Yuji.
[ His voice is barely a whisper, like part of him can't quite believe that this is real. For Suguru, it's been ten years without Yuji. And to have him back, dangled in front of him and completely untouchable at the same time, was agony.
Suguru just packed it all away because he's the adult. He's had a decade to grieve, and that meant it was his responsibility to bear the weight of this new separation, to enforce it in Yuji's best interests... and yet, what does it matter in their world? A world of death and curses and pain, dropped into the laps of children.
Are they still children when they make it to the other side? ]
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