Archive of Our Own

Yuuji, contrary to Kugisaki’s belief, was not as stupid as he made himself out to be. 

There were just some things which were obvious even to the most naive of people. 

One of them being that despite their Sensei's best efforts to be as fair and righteous in addressing his students, Yuuji knew that Gojo had a favourite. Though his Sensei might have disliked the term, to Yuuji, there was no other way to describe it.

Fushiguro Megumi was, in every sense of the word, Gojo Satoru’s favourite. 

There wasn’t anything that particularly stood out in Yuuji's mind to sharply highlight the different perks which Fushiguro received, but even so, the way in which Gojo treated him was unmistakable. It was only minor things at the beginning in which Yuuji started to pick up on once joining the school, but as he delved deeper into the Jujutsu Society, the more he began to realise that the whole thing had been apparent since the beginning. 

For starters, the fact that Gojo had checked up on Fushiguro during his mission to retrieve Sukuna’s finger. At the time how could he have possibly known it was unusual for Jujutsu teachers to accompany their students on missions? How was he supposed to know that Gojo Satoru was considered the strongest being in their cursed world? That due to his Sensei’s unparalleled strength he was constantly sent to kill curses halfway across the world, leaving frivolous things like tailing students to be completely out of the norm for a figurehead such as himself. 

When Yuuji had seen the weird blindfolded man appear next to Fushiguro, he hadn’t thought about the intricacies of it all. He had merely watched the tension drain from Fushiguro’s form, the fear and stress upon Sukuna’s resurrection vanishing within the second Gojo had grinned down at his disgruntled state. It wasn't until after everything unfolded that Yuuji found out why Fushiguro had been so relaxed — Gojo Satoru was the strongest. It made sense to be utterly at ease in the presence of someone so great, not even mentioning the fact that said person was his Sensei. It should've been natural to feel that sense of unyielding comfort, and ever since learning that fact, to Yuuji it was.

That was until the volcano guy showed his face, and Yuuji suddenly found himself having to revise his earlier thoughts. 

Even with the older man's reassuring hand gently resting on his head, Yuuji had felt a different kind of fear. His body couldn't simply relax like Fushiguro, Yuuji couldn't let everything bleed out and rely solely on his Sensei. Don’t get him wrong, Yuuji trusted Gojo more than anything, there was no doubt in his mind that he felt safe within his presence. Nevertheless, in spite of witnessing the ridiculous power that the man possessed, Yuuji could not help it as the underlying uneasiness within him lingered although the man was nearby. 

Then the plant guy arrived, and Yuuji had to be saved.

He had found himself screaming for Gojo to come back for him. In hindsight, it seemed kind of dumb, as if his Sensei wouldn't have saved him. Nonetheless, at that moment, Yuuji had been genuinely frightened for his life despite having the strongest Sorcerer in the modern world standing before him. It was then that it really hit him, how utterly at ease Fushiguro had been that day on the rooftop. It was almost inhuman, how nonchalant he was in the face of the King of Curses simply because Gojo had been there. 

It was the type of undivided trust that stemmed far past the realm of student and teacher. 

Yuuji could see that fact especially in the ways the others acted around Gojo. The way Kugisaki still held her rigid aggression regardless of whether the older man was there or not, having Gojo around meant little to her survival instinct. It was almost the same with the second years, they constantly remained poised and ready, whilst they treated Gojo as if he was a nuisance more than anything. Even if it was just training or going out to eat, having their Sensei with them had become a normality. He was the idiot with the blindfold that found far too much humour in wearing a skirt or bullying his students. 

It was only Fushiguro who seemed to truly understand the presence beside them, the figure they walked amongst. 

His friend was usually reserved, uptight even, yet still Yuuji could not help but love to be around him. There was something fascinating about the other boy that made Yuuji glad he was able to be Fushiguro’s friend despite the circumstances they met. That being said, it was evident that Fushiguro was withdrawn more often than not. While he was serious during their off hours, it was nothing compared to how he acted during his missions. Level-headed and focused, he carried them out like they were second nature. 

Find the curse. Assess the situation. Exorcise.  

He was quick to measure any danger which may’ve surrounded them as well as any unforeseen situations their trio usually landed in. It was a type of skill that Kugisaki had as well, not to the same extent as Fushiguro’s paranoid brain of course, but still derived from experience Yuuji was nowhere close to matching. He was glad at times like those to be able to have these people with him. Still, it was due to how focused the boy typically was that the stark differences in his attitude was always so glaringly noticeable whenever their Sensei decided to tag along. 

It was no secret that Gojo had a lot to deal with on a regular basis. 

No matter how carefree he seemed to be, the Higher Ups handed him missions like they were candy. Yuuji had once asked Fushiguro where their Sensei disappeared to when Gojo had been missing for an entire month and the other boy had simply stated that he had been sent overseas once again. It had only taken a little time since he joined Jujutsu High to realise how much work the Higher Ups liked to drop on the older man, Yuuji was sure their Sensei’s personality did not help in any regard of that situation. 

It was for all those reasons that when Gojo decided to join their mission both Yuuji and Kugisaki were taken aback by the mere idea of it. It wasn’t common for teachers to join their students, let alone Gojo Satoru. The only time Yuuji could remember having Gojo’s company would’ve been back during Kugisaki’s first arrival. Fushiguro on the other hand had not been pulsed in the slightest at their energetic teacher’s sudden proclamation, if anything he seemed somewhat content to have the man there, as if he had been expecting such a thing to occur. 

“Any reason for this random interruption? You’re gonna mess up our flow!” Kugisaki shouted as she glared at the grinning blindfolded man before them. 

“What flow? ” Yuuji heard Fushiguro mutter beside him, scepticism lacing every aspect of his voice. 

“Yeah Sensei! What’s up? Why are you here? Is the mission really hard or something?” It shouldn’t have been, they were only supposed to clean up a few stray Grade 3 curses from an abandoned mall. Then again, for all Yuuji knew, this could’ve been another assassination attempt from the Higher Ups. 

“Nothing like that, my precious students! It's just been oh-so long since I’ve gotten to see you guys, that’s all.” Gojo pouted as he complained and whined dramatically as ever. It was never an ordinary conversation with that guy, but Yuuji wouldn’t choose to have it any other way.

“I guess that’s true, it’s been like what? A week or so?” Now that Yuuji was thinking about it, Gojo had been missing for the majority of the past few days. 

“And what a pleasant week it's been.” Fushiguro deadpanned, his voice monotone and bleak yet not once fooling anyone in the room. That was another thing Yuuji had taken note of since joining the school, Fushiguro’s keen awareness of Gojo-sensei’s behaviour. As much the boy pretended to hate him it was hard to ignore the flurry of sarcastic jokes or attention he always seemed to give their teacher whenever he made an appearance. 

Yuuji had seen the way the other boys' shoulders had always unconsciously slumped whenever Sensei was randomly mentioned during conversation whilst he was away. Or how Fushiguro constantly seemed to be looking around no matter where they were, almost as if he was waiting for someone’s abrupt arrival or intrusive commentary out of sheer habit. 

“Aw, don’t be like that Gumi! I’ve missed you!” Yuuji could not help but be acutely aware of the singular form the man had used as he whined and reached over to wrap his arms around Fushiguro’s head tightly.

That was another thing, the way Fushiguro never seemed to avoid Sensei’s touch like he did with theirs. It wasn’t like Fushiguro was rude about it or anything, he would just move away after a brief second of contact. Nothing ever lasted more than a few beats before he pulled back in false annoyance or irritation. Even though Fushiguro kept up the fake displeasure with Gojo, he never once moved away first, always making sure to silently revel in the touch when given. It was sort of sweet.

“Well if that’s the case, then you’re paying for lunch!” Kugisaki butted in apparently having enough with being left out of the conversation. 

“Sounds great! Where shall we go? Sushi? Udon?” Gojo asked without missing a beat, still clinging to Fushiguro’s side. Yuuji watched as a hand nonchalantly slipped its way to gently ruffle the boy's unruly hair. He could practically see the familiarity woven between each movement of his Sensei’s muscles as he did so.

“Oh! Oh! What about that new ramen place that just opened downtown?" Yuuji prodded. He had been hoping to check it out sooner, but they had all been quite busy with Jujutsu work ever since the restaurant had opened. 

“No you idiot! We’ve got Gojo’s black card, I’m not letting you waste that kind of opportunity on ramen of all things!” Kugisaki immediately snapped as she whipped her way to glare at him. Whilst Gojo’s card was a gift granted to them generously, it only came about once in a while whenever the man was able to be present to go out with them. As such Kugisaki never spared a moment in lavishing herself with the most luxurious of items or foods at the expense of the older man. Still Yuuji found himself instinctively frowning at the girl’s comment, it wasn’t like he disagreed with the reasoning, but disrespecting ramen like that was ridiculous.

“But ramen is nice—” Yuuji began to argue but was ultimately cut off by Fushiguro’s hushed request.

“I’d like katsu.”

It was a quiet thing, hardly in contest with the current screaming match happening between him and Kugisaki, yet Gojo’s ears seemed to perk up nonetheless. It’s only then that Yuuji realised that the suggestions were merely that — suggestions. An idea. A concept. A mere thing to think about before the decision would ultimately be made regardless of what either Kugisaki or Yuuji decided between themselves. 

“Katsu? Great! I know just the place!” Gojo grinned, and even Yuuji couldn’t find it in himself to blame the man. It was rare for Fushiguro to openly request anything for himself. Typically he would side with Yuuji or purposefully go against whatever decision Gojo had offered. That being said, whenever the boy did happen to ask for something it was always in the presence of their Sensei, and like clockwork, the older man would grant the request without fail. At times, Yuuji wondered if Gojo ever paused to consider before complying to Fushiguro’s demands, or maybe the man simply deemed such a thing pointless. After all, why bother thinking when you knew that you would take upon whatever was asked with nothing short of the best of your calibre? 

It was moments like this where the favouritism had never before seemed so transparent. 

“Wait Sensei, the mission—”

In a blink their teacher was gone and in less than another he returned, beaming like he always did. 

“Don’t worry about that! Let’s go eat! While we’re at it tell me about what I missed!” Gojo exclaimed with all the natural cheer he usually possessed as he swung an arm around Fushiguro’s shoulder and led the way out the door. It was only for a brief second before they slipped out of view, but Yuuji swore that he had seen Fushiguro lean slightly into the hold of his teacher. 

At the restaurant they all had decided to sit in a booth, with him and Kugisaki on one end whilst Sensei and Fushiguro sat opposite. It wasn’t unusual by any means but due to Yuuji's recent decline into analysing his friend and teacher’s very peculiar relationship, he began to notice the small details in their life that nobody else seemed to realise ever occurred. 

For one, the way in which they consistently sat when they went outside. It was always Gojo and Fushiguro on one end, sitting side by side with Gojo’s arm slung nonchalantly over the back of the couch. Occasionally a hand would come to ruffle the younger boy’s hair when teasing him or simply rest carelessly against his shoulder.

Nevertheless they were always touching, never more than an inch separating the two of them.

It should be strange to witness yet Yuuji had never once questioned the closeness before and he decided that he would not begin to start now.

They had ended up going to some fancy traditionalist restaurant with a name Yuuji didn’t even try to pronounce. It was the type of place he would never think of looking at before meeting Gojo, too high above his class and own bank account to ever pretend to entertain. 

“Are you sure about this Sensei? Some of this stuff is really expensive…” Yuuji asked as he nervously eyed a meal worth twenty thousand yen. Kugisaki seemed to share the sentiment, although clearly awestruck at the variety of choices the menu had to offer, she was more than a little disturbed at the absurdity of their prices. 

“Nonsense Yuuji-kun, order to your heart's desire!” Gojo laughed, obviously far too pleased with their discomfort. “It’s all on your wonderful Sensei, don’t worry.”

In contrast to their wide eyes and nervous exchanges, both Gojo and Fushiguro had never seemed more in their element. When Yuuji had first found out about the major clans, he had been surprised to know Gojo had grown up in such luxury with the way the man acted. Yet he soon came to find out that as much as Gojo behaved like an idiot, the man was never one to spare expense in the quality of things he owned or ate. It was like the blindfold really did conceal all sense of reasoning within his brain. So whilst Sensei was none too astonishing in the way he casually flicked through pages upon pages worth thousands, Yuuji could not say the same for Fushiguro. 

The boy was not someone he had pegged to be into such things. Even though he was well kept and elegant in the way he acted at times, Fushiguro didn’t seem all too bothered about money. Sure, Yuuji had spotted him in some of the most atrociously expensive brands he had ever laid witness to during their off-hours, but he had simply chalked it up to fashion more than anything. It wasn’t a secret that Fushiguro Megumi was as pretty as they came, it wouldn’t be any less of a surprise if the boy was aware of it too. 

However, seeing him here, hand impassively flicking through cuisines worth tens of thousands of yen, Yuuji once again wondered what he didn't already know about his best friend. 

“This one.”

Fushiguro’s voice popped the bubble of his thoughts as the boy finally laid his menu on the table and pointed to one of the dishes in the far left corner. Gojo immediately looked away from his own page and assessed the boy’s choice. The dish was one Yuuji had been particularly avoiding, rounding up to almost thirty thousand yen, the spiky haired boy bluntly pointed towards the pristine image displaying a neatly plated serving of A5 Wagyu Katsu. 

I’d like katsu. 

Fushiguro had said, only at the time Yuuji had never suspected the craving would be in regards to such a high-graded meat. Yuuji could hear Kugisaki choke beside him at the normalcy of it all, honestly it felt surreal to be sitting opposite these two. In all the times they had dined with Gojo, they had never gone out to feast at a place like this, but then again Fushiguro had never openly requested any favour to what he would like to eat before. 

“Excellent choice Gumi!” Gojo grinned as he patted the top of the disgruntled boy’s head. Fushiguro’s vibrant gaze then snapped up to meet Yuuji’s impossibly gaping eyes, his eyebrow quirked in confusion. 

“Have you guys chosen yet?”

“Yep!” Kugisaki announced as she kicked him unsuspectingly under the table in order to snap him out of his stupor. “I’ll have this one, and Yuuji?”

“O-Oh yeah… this one will be fine.”

Gojo simply smiled, pressing the call button at their table and waiting for their server to arrive. Meanwhile, Yuuji couldn't help but ponder how a duo like them had ever come to be: the strongest Sorcerer, always steadfast yet unable to hold back his tongue even at the worst of times, paired with his reserved, self-sacrificing student, never failing to prioritise others' needs over his own. 

They were certainly a match made in a place far exceeding either heaven or hell.

Yuuji wondered if either of the pair was aware of the fact. 

Thankfully, it was only a couple of weeks later that Yuuji finally discovered how the two of them had met.

“What do you mean you’ve known him for years?! ” Kugisaki screamed, grabbing and shaking Fushiguro’s expressionless face. “We’re first years you idiot, it’s not like there’s a fucking Jujutsu middle school you went too!” 

“There’s middle schools for Sorcerers?” Yuuji questioned, he assumed that people would think it to be cruel to make children so young fight against curses but then again Jujutsu Society wasn’t one to stray from the brutality of reality. 

“No, you dumbass, I just said that!” Kugisaki groaned just as Yuuji felt a sharp slap to the back of his head. He whipped his eyes up to frown at the unfazed woman whilst she continued her interrogation on Fushiguro.

“I was placed under the care of Jujutsu High after my deal with the Zenin clan got terminated.” Fushiguro relented, prying his face away from the girl's hand and rubbing his jaw. “I was still too young to be able to properly join the school so they placed me under Gojo-sensei’s care, that’s all.” The boy stated the words calmly as ever, as if each one wasn’t currently reconstructing Yuuji’s entire perception of the person right in front of him.

“Hold up, what do you mean you were gonna be sold? ” Yuuji squawked.

“It’s not a big deal, my father was going to sell me to the clan for money because of my cursed technique. It’s more common than you would think.” Fushiguro muttered, shifting uncomfortably on the spot in response to the sheer outrage Yuuji’s voice had held. 

“Your technique? Why? Is it important?”

“Oh god, you’ve been here for how long and you still know absolutely nothing do you?” Kugisaki once again berated him. 

“Hey!”

“Ten Shadows. It’s an inherited and prized technique within the Zenin’s. They treasure it like no other, they’ve been waiting for a new user to be born for generations now.” Fushiguro supplied swifty. Yuuji silently thanked him, it wasn’t like he was purposefully so unknowledgeable about this world. He had tried to pay attention and pick up as much as he could but with a teacher like Gojo and the fact that he had the King of Curses residing in his body, Yuuji didn’t have much time to focus his attention on such things. 

“Inherited technique?”

“Like Gojo-sensei’s, it’s one which is passed down through the bloodline of the clans alone. Extremely rare and exceptionally powerful at times.” 

“Ok great, you have daddy issues and were passed around like a hot-potato as a child.” Kugisaki cut in, stepping forward to once again stand face to face with Fushiguro’s blank gaze. “None of that explains how you’re basically Gojo Satoru’s son!? ”

“I’m not his son.” Fushiguro grunted, his head tipping down in a poor attempt to hide the red scattering his cheeks. “It’s an obligation, he’s more like my benefactor if anything.” His voice had dropped to a more reserved tone, yet the fragility of it all stood out to Yuuji more than anything. 

“Did someone tell Gojo that?” Kugisaki muttered, so low Yuuji thought only he was able to pick up the words. Although judging by the mild glare Fushiguro shot their way he wasn’t too sure about it.

“I’ve been under his care since I was seven. He was the one who ordered the arrangement to be stopped in the first place.” Fushiguro revealed and just like that, everything circulating Yuuji’s mind finally snapped into place.

“Oh, so he saved you.”

Fushiguro seemed startled by the proclamation, eyes usually so devoid of expression lighting up in surprise as they locked on his. Yuuji knew that Gojo was special to each one of his students for various reasons. Whether it be Maki finally gaining a place of acceptance or simply Kugisaki gaining an escape from her previous life, everyone had something gifted to them from the man. Yuuji himself had gained his life, a chance to fight and save people the way he hoped his Grandfather would be proud of. 

Yet, all that being said, Yuuji had always been curious as to what Fushiguro and Gojo’s relationship stemmed off. They were close, undeniably so. However if one were to look at the duo without a hint of knowledge about their relations, they would never guess the two to be as drawn to one another as they were. They were polar opposites. Night and Day. It never made sense to Yuuji how they could’ve met to form such a bond, but now knowing what he did it all made sense. Gojo had saved Fushiguro, raising him as his own. Thus no matter how much Fushiguro complained about his loud and abrasive nature, Yuuji could see that he would always cherish the older man for doing so.

“Yes… I suppose he did.” 

“Holy shit, I’d never have expected that in a million years. So what, you’ve been training under the strongest Sorcerer since you were a brat!? How is that fair!” Kugisaki yelled in a poor attempt of hiding her own obvious surprise at the new information dropped.

“It’s not like it was my idea, I didn’t really have a choice in it all. It was either let the idiot be my Sensei or try and survive with just Tsumiki and me.” Fushiguro’s voice was soft as he spoke, eyes a little distant and undoubtedly lost in his own memories. 

“Wait… you didn’t want to be a Sorcerer?” Yuuji questioned.

“No, not at first. I didn’t see a point in the whole thing until Tsumiki got cursed, but like I said, it was conditioned by the Higher Ups to have me start training regardless of my age. To them, I was useless otherwise. I’m sure they would’ve been more than happy to hand me over to the Zenin’s if not for Gojo-sensei.” Yuuji dismissed the sudden wave of annoyance from the boy and instead found himself focusing on the true fact of the matter that was just revealed. 

“Huh, so Sensei’s your Dad.”

“He’s not. I’m sure he would’ve desired a million other ways to spend his younger years than saddled with a bunch of pre-teen kids.” Fushiguro’s voice was bitter as he scoffed, rolling his eyes whilst a thin veil of disgust lingered around his aura. He and Kugisaki could only stare dumbly at the boy and his evident unawareness of the situation he was placed in, did he truly not know how much Gojo cared for him?

“I never took you for the oblivious type.” Kugisaki stated bluntly, gesturing to Fushiguro with a thoughtful and patronising tone as she continued to speak. “You must still be in your rebellious teenage phase, rejecting your parents and all that crap.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Well, either way, it explains so much!” Yuuji jumped in merrily, blatantly ignoring the glare Fushiguro shot against Kugisaki’s smug smirk.

“It… It does?” Fushiguro asked warily, eyes squinted as if trying to gauge Yuuji’s sudden train of thought.

“Oh, totally. No wonder you’re the favourite, you’re literally the bastard’s son!” Kugisaki scoffed, causing Fushiguro to immediately switch his confused look into one of bafflement, eyes widening as he choked out his next words. 

“F-Favourite?! ”

“Yeah and it makes sense you’re always so relaxed around him, he’s probably saved you a bunch as a kid!” Yuuji could see it clearly now, the easy going sense of security Fushiguro always had around Gojo’s existence was likely one born from a young age. Maybe in some ways Gojo was even something like a hero to the boy. 

“What do you mean relaxed around him?” Fushiguro prodded, eyes lit with uncertainty Yuuji didn’t understand, was this truly shocking news for him? 

“Like on missions and stuff, or that day at the school.”

“Yeah, sorry to break it to you, but you completely lose your uptight-ness whenever he shows up.” Kugisaki gestured to Fushiguro’s rigid form as she spoke, grimacing slightly at the thought of the many scoldings the boy always gave them on missions no doubt. 

“You… you guys— You don’t feel… You don’t think you’re safe with him?” The softness of the voice instantly brought Yuuji’s attention back to his friend. Fushiguro looked out of place in a way he had never been before, hands shaking to match the unsteady tone of his words. Kugisaki and him quickly traded glances before coming to a quick agreement that they would try and nip whatever was happening to their friend in the bud as soon as possible. It wasn’t like Fushiguro to get so worked up over something like this, let alone something about Gojo of all people. 

“It’s not like that, Gojo-sensei’s the strongest! Of course, we feel safe!” Yuuji chirped, trying his best to get his sincerity across to his uneasy friend.

“We just don’t drop all sense of logic whenever he’s around. It’s like you completely forget you’re on a battlefield or something, it’s kinda weird.” Kugisaki tried to explain, but judging by the look of bewilderment still plastered on Fushiguro’s face the point either of them was trying to make still didn’t get through to the boy. 

“Yeah, of course Sensei’s gonna protect us but what if he’s busy with something else while we’re being attacked? He can’t keep us safe all the time, right Fushiguro?” Yuuji asked, waiting for the easy going response anyone else in their school would’ve surely given. 

Yet when Yuuji looked up at him, Fushiguro’s face was completely absent. It was like all the words uttered from their mouths contradicted every aspect of common sense he had stored in his brain. As if what Yuuji just said was completely abnormal, and hey, maybe it was different for the son of Gojo Satoru. 

“See, you’re getting that look, stop it now you bastard!” Kugisaki scowled, pointing a finger at the boy whilst also successfully snapping him out of his daze. 

“What look?” 

“You’re looking at us like we’re the idiots in this situation!” She yelled, a hint of annoyance lacing her words as it typically did when the girl was tired of one of their antics. Such a tone seemed to happen a lot more than it probably should’ve. 

“What?! N-No, it's just…” Fushiguro stuttered, his gaze darting away as he gnawed at his lip in thought. When the boy finally decided to look back at them his eyes were tinted with a touch of disbelief. “Does everyone think like this?”

“I’m sure not exactly, but along the same lines? Definitely. He’s our Sensei and I mean he’s Gojo, so he’s always gonna try and keep us safe, you know? But it’s not like he can be everywhere at once, it’s only natural to be a little on guard, right?” Yuuji once again prodded, giving way for the simple reply he was expecting Fushiguro to respond with, yet just like before his friend merely held a blank look as his frozen form finally grew slack with abnormal dumbfoundedness. 

“Oh.”

“Wow, you seriously don’t agree, do you?” Kugisaki laughed incredulously, leaning back with her arms crossed as she looked at Fushiguro’s clearly uncomfortable form shuffle in affirmation. 

“It’s not that I don’t agree, it makes sense, of course it does. It’s completely logical reasoning to take.” Fushiguro stated, his hands twitching slightly by his slide. Although the words were calm and steadfast, Yuuji could still witness the impact of the information affect Fushiguro’s agitated figure. 

“So why do you still look like you just got slapped?” Kugisaki questioned candid as ever, raising an eyebrow when Fushiguro ultimately dropped the facade of nonchalance and sighed in exasperation. 

“It’s just not what I’m used to, okay?” Fushiguro relented, flicking his gaze off to the side once more as he noticeably forced the next words out his mouth with a sigh. “Gojo-sensei’s… Gojo’s always been there for me, alright? There’s never been a moment where he hasn’t arrived when I needed him… It’s weird to hear you talk about him like he’s just a teacher, I guess sometimes I forget you don’t know him like I do.”

You don’t know him like I do.

Wow… and did that line not fail to make Yuuji a little jealous. 

Even after hearing and processing the idea of Fushiguro being raised by Gojo, the thought didn’t really settle in until right then. Hearing the level of familiarity that was held in every syllable which Fushiguro spoke made something crawl within the pits of his stomach. 

What was it like… to have that level of faith in a guardian? 

Yuuji never knew his parents and his Grandpa had been too sick to be able to act as such a stable figure. Gojo and Nanami were the closest things Yuuji has ever had to a reliable adult in his life, however never had he placed that amount of faith in either of them. Sure Gojo’s been there for him and Yuuji trusted him more than anything, but there’s something about living so alone all your life that made you unable to shake that sense of independence buried so deep within every thought you had. Gojo could be standing right next to him and every bone in Yuuji’s body would be anxiously waiting for the moment he needed to defend himself. 

So listening to Fushiguro now? Talking as if it was normal to place your existence in the hands of another so readily, it was kind of unimaginable. 

“What about missions?” Kugisaki asked, her voice somewhat strained. Maybe she was thinking the same things he was, the easy-going way in which Fushiguro talked about their Sensei starting to make something inside her clench as well. 

“We made a deal about that already.” Fushiguro stated and Yuuji could not help but be a little bitter at the fact that even something like this had an explanation already in place. “He’ll only come when I call him or my cursed energy spikes in a certain way, a signal of sorts.”

“He has your cursed energy memorised? ” Kugisaki exclaimed incredulously. “Gojo has the Six Eyes, he witnesses and senses millions of cursed signatures a day. How could he possibly remember such a thing?”

“Ten Shadows radiates differently from the rest, it's stronger. Unique in ways the common ones aren’t. According to him, it would be effortless to distinguish even if I was in a room full of Sorcerers.” 

Maybe Yuuji was imagining it, his brain had been going a little haywire this entire conversation after all, but as the words left Fushiguro’s mouth Yuuji could not help but hear the slight defensive undertone written behind each one.

“You think he’d notice? Even if he was overseas or caught up in his own mission?” 

“You guys don’t get it…” Fushiguro’s voice was riddled with irritation as well as a little desperation, as if he truly couldn’t believe what they were trying to convince him of. “Go— Satoru promised. ”

If it wasn't the use of Sensei’s first name which made both Kugisaki and him flinch then it was the fervent manner in which Fushiguro spoke. That was all it took for Fushiguro to place his utmost faith in their teacher, Gojo had promised. A few words from the man and Fushiguro was ready to risk his life, as if there was nothing more reliable than that.

“Fushiguro—”

“I can’t blame you guys for doubting. It’s probably insane to hear me talk like this about that idiot, but you have to understand that Gojo isn’t… he isn’t just a teacher to me, alright? Sure he’s the strongest, but it’s not just— I can’t not trust him, okay? It’s stupid, I know, but if Gojo said he’d come— then he will. I can’t believe anything less.”

The conviction in his voice was… it was astounding. Yuuji didn’t think that he had ever heard Fushiguro talk this much in one sitting before.

“Maybe it’s different for you, because he’s our Sensei, but he saved me that day. Gojo promised he would stay, that he would protect me. He may be a dumbass more often than not, but he’s held that promise for as long as I’ve known him and I have to— I know he’ll keep it for as long as I keep knowing him. That’s how I’m always calm around him, I know he’ll do anything to keep me safe, no matter what, because… because…”

Fushiguro didn’t say the words but Yuuji could hear them regardless. 

Because he loves me.

And what a feeling that must’ve been.

It’s only later that Yuuji learned how true those unspoken words were. 

How far their Sensei would go for his child. 

Heedless of the cost.

It was just Fushiguro and him sitting in the school’s kitchen at the time. Yuuji had been starving and consequently dragged Fushiguro over to make him a meal. It had been a strange fact to find out but apparently the boy was really good at cooking. When he had asked about it, Fushiguro had simply stated that it was either he learned how to cook or try not to get poisoned by a teenage Gojo’s monstrous concoctions.

Safe to say, Yuuji was glad he did not have to deal with such a thing growing up. 

It was quiet whilst they were there, comfortable silence enveloping the two of them as they simply enjoyed one another’s company whilst the Friday afternoon dragged on. Kugisaki had gone to town to shop for an outfit for their trip to the markets this weekend, as well as offering to bring back snacks for the movie they had all planned to watch tonight. 

It had been a long week, missions after mission stacked against them in attempts to keep them alert for the sudden influx of curses in the area. It was exhausting to deal with, especially since Maki and Inumaki were away for their own assignment. Without their Senpai’s here it seemed that all the work fell into them instead. Not to mention Sensei had still not returned from his own mission. Yuuji was never certain where the man actually went but Fushiguro said he was supposed to arrive back sometime this weekend. If all went well, maybe they would invite him to their market trip, Kugisaki would surely be thrilled by the idea of using his card again. 

Nevertheless Yuuji couldn’t find it in himself to complain a lot, as much as it was tiring to exorcise so many curses back to back, this option was much more favourable than letting innocents get hurt. He’d rather pass out on the kitchen table as he was now than hear about a child’s funeral within the local papers. 

Anything was better than that. 

Still, it was his naivety and negligence that was probably the reason why things had turned around so disastrously. 

His eyes were droopy and limbs numb after all the strain on his muscles. It was the type of feeling Yuuji’s inhumane body was rarely ever exposed to, thus making it all the more hard for him to be able to gather his thoughts as he usually would.

Even now as he lay slumped over the table, the quiet flicker of the flames lighting the hob echoed as a rhythm in his mind, slowly but surely making him all the more eager to drift off to sleep. 

Fushiguro seemed to notice his unusual silence, the absence of noise radiating from his place was something unfamiliar whenever they were together. The boy turned around and spoke to him, yet for the life of him, Yuuji could not process a single word he said.

His vision was blurry as he fought to stay awake. It was a dumb move on his part but he could not explain the foreboding sense of displeasure that his instincts were giving rise to. Typically he would already be out like a light, snoring on the uncomfortable wooden table as if it were one of the most pristine beddings he’d ever had the fortune to lie in. Yet today was unlike any other, every piece of Yuuji’s gut was screaming at him to stay conscious. That something severely bad would occur if he were to simply give his eyes a moment of rest. 

It would most likely sound stupid to an outsider listening in on his thoughts, but Yuuji knew better. He had never failed to trust his gut and in return his instincts had never failed to help him in the best of ways. They were the reason he was still kicking to this day, so if his mind didn’t think rest was a worthy option then so be it. 

That being said, Yuuji was tired.  

So, so, tired. 

The more he attempted to stay awake the quicker his body seemed to want to slip into that abyss of darkness. His dreams had never felt so close before, yet Yuuji was afraid of what price he might have to pay upon waking up after touching them.

Fushiguro seemed to sense something was wrong as the boy was quick to abandon his cooking and crouched before his fatigued figure.

“Itadori? Are you okay? Do I need to call Ieiri-san?” The boy asked, concern evidently slipping into his typically monotone voice.

Fushiguro was close, oh-so close. 

Yuuji could feel the heat of his hand press softly against his forehead. It was warm… gentle and caring in all the right ways. The heat seemed to encompass him in that moment, swirling around his senses and blocking out any other impressions his body might’ve felt. 

Warmth.

By the time Yuuji realised his eyes were slipping shut and his breathing began to level out it was already too late. A claw wrapped tightly around the edge of his consciousness and yanked him back into murky waters and a desolate graveyard. Yuuji’s eyes flew open at the feeling of water spraying against his face and the gloomy atmosphere encasing his entire surroundings.

RedRedRedRe—

Sukuna’s domain.

Fuck.

Immediately Yuuji tried to take his body back but he knew that his efforts would be futile. All he could manage was to observe Sukuna’s actions through his own vision as the curse prattled around inhabiting his body.

Yuuji never knew what it was like for everyone else when the curse took over. He had heard Kugisaki’s idle commentary about markings littering his face or Fushiguro’s disturbed confession that the man seemed to have a strange aversion to clothing. Either way, Yuuji knew it was never good. Nobody seemed too fond to talk about the moments whenever he asked and that was all the reason he needed to keep away from the topic.

Now though, as he watched Fushiguro’s eyes widen and his shaky hands clasp together, he wished he had asked more. Maybe if he knew his friends true fears he would’ve tried harder to keep them at bay.

“Fushiguro Megumi, what a pleasant surprise.”

Sukuna’s voice always sounded strange when he spoke, it was deeper and silkier than Yuuji’s own, never failing to curl in all the right ways as Yuuji would imagine that of royalty’s to do. It reminded him of how obnoxiously grand the curse always acted within his mind, talking down on others and wishing the most obscene deaths on people for the sole reason of tormenting Yuuji’s sleep. 

Yet despite it all, hearing Fushiguro’s name was always the worst.

Maybe it was the sheer fact that the curse only bothered to remember the boy’s title, but either way, the sound of it leaving his lips in such an unmistakingly enthralled manner consistently made something ugly writhe within his stomach. 

“Sukuna.” Fushiguro tried to act unbothered by it all but the surge of cursed energy and formation of his shikigami was enough to clearly betray his efforts. “Give Itadori back his body.”

“Give back? Oh, but he was so generous to leave the seat open for the taking. If the boy wants it back, he is more than able to try and take it.” 

The taunt of Yuuji’s failure sat heavy within his stomach. It was his fault this situation ever came about, that Fushiguro was in danger at this moment. If only he had been more careful, more aware — stronger.  

Alas it seemed that despite everything he had endured Yuuji was still too weak. 

“Sukuna—” 

It was quick, the speed at which the curse moved. Fushiguro could hardly start his sentence before he was thrown against the wall with barely the flick of a finger. Sukuna was even faster to crowd against the boy as he groaned in anguish, clutching his side desperately to keep his stitches intact. 

Fushiguro had suffered quite the injury during one of their missions, a calculated attack from a more intelligent curse had almost killed Kugisaki right then and there if not for Fushiguro’s interference. Yuuji knew it would take at least the rest of the week before it was healed, however looking at the boy seeth in pain, he wondered how much worse it had become.

Fuck.

None of this should be happening! Yuuji could only fume in despair as he fruitlessly attempted to gain control each and every second he was forced to watch his best friend's misery. 

“Now, now, little blessing. No need to get so aggravated. The brat should’ve been more aware if he didn't want such a thing to occur.” Sukuna leered, as a clawed hand made its way to harshly cradle the boy’s throat. The grip was tight and Yuuji could only watch as those nails dug crescent wounds into Fushiguro’s cheeks.

“What do you want? Just kill me—”

Yuuji was sure his heart would’ve stopped beating if not for Sukuna’s hand yanking the boy’s limp body to eye level, the movement instantly cutting him off. 

“Don’t be so hasty, there's still much I need from you.” The silken voice hardened ever so slightly at the earlier demand. His eyes were focused, Yuuji could feel it, the way each pupil observed the blood pool against his nails and slowly trickled down Fushiguro’s cheek. It was always unsettling, the sheer fascination Sukuna had with Fushiguro ever since the Detention Center, the whole idea of it make Yuuji sick.

“Itadori, you have to—”

“Tch, don’t bother, the brat is useless. You Sorcerers are so quick to blather about saving lives when you can’t even ensure that of your own. He’s grown weak during your escapade, couldn’t even try and resist as I took control.” Sukuna smirked, amusement clearly interlaced within his words. Yuuji’s heart faltered ever so slightly as the truth leaked from Sukuna’s mouth. 

Because that’s what it was, the truth. 

It was Yuuji’s fault for being so weak, so stupid to not ever once consider how his own mental well being would affect his hold on Sukuna. He had grown complacent with the lack of major curses roaming around. With only their routine missions in place. he had been slowly led into the false sense of security that he would be safe within the walls of Jujutsu Tech, as if his own body didn’t house the most feared spirit of them all. 

As if Yuuji himself wasn’t a threat to everyone and anyone around him. 

“Who knows, maybe he won’t ever be able to again. Then where would that leave you Fushiguro Megumi? That’s right, all alone with me— ” 

Yuuji gasped as his body was violently thrown against the wall, the breath forced from his lungs in an instant. He seemed to regain his body, if only for a moment, just to feel the sensation of ice encase his entire soul as his muscles froze and the coldest of eyes locked him in place. 

Blue.

“Sukuna, what a surprise!” Gojo's voice was bright and cheery yet lacked all his usual fervour. He planted himself immediately ahead of Fushiguro’s crumpled figure, the boy in question having to peek around the man’s tall form for Yuuji to catch the tiniest glimpse of him. 

“Gojo-sensei?” Fushiguro rasped out, his voice raw from the pain he was holding back. Despite it all, Yuuji could still catch the touch of wonder hidden beneath his words as if he couldn’t believe Gojo was indeed standing before him. 

“Ah, Megumi, still able to speak? That’s good.” Gojo hummed, his gaze turning away from Yuuji’s pinned form to assess his student behind him. He remained silent as he did so, nevertheless the clear spike in his aura when those azure eyes finally trailed over the streaks of blood adorning the boy’s face made it more than clear to everyone present what thoughts were unquestionably running rampant in the Sorcerer's mind. 

“Sensei, what are you doing here?” Fushiguro asked, wincing slightly as he made his move to sit up straighter. The small noise caused Gojo to step back, instantly raising a hand towards the boy to gesture for him to remain in his collapsed state. 

“I was planning to gift my darling students with an early arrival, but it looks like you beat me to the surprise.” Gojo quipped only after Fushiguro huffed out and relented to resting his back against the cracked wall behind him. His joking nature lacked all its typical charisma, instead coming out flat and toneless as his gaze lingered heavily on the harsh pants Fushiguro was releasing. 

Yuuji felt the air around him wind tighter within the second. 

“Gojo-sensei, Itadori might still—” Fushiguro pleaded, his eyes darting from Gojo towards Yuuji as he spoke somewhat desperately. The boy barely got a few words out before he coughed roughly, small spots of blood spewing from his mouth. 

In an instant, the room grew tense. 

“Megumi.” Gojo’s voice dropped, his demeanour shifting within the second as he turned to face Yuuji’s strung up form, eyes desolate from any emotion he may have held. “Yuuji’s not a concern at the moment.”

Yuuji had never felt scared of Gojo-sensei before.

Never… except that one night the second time they met.

Surrounded by nothing but the hue of candle flames, his aura had been overwhelmingly ominous. Yuuji knew nothing of this man except for the fact that he was Fushiguro’s Sensei, that he had been the one to get this Sukuna thing under control. Yet in that moment, tied to a chair and Fushiguro nowhere in sight, with only the presence of a man who did not even need the ability to see—

Yuuji had been scared.

Frighteningly so. 

The feeling that encompassed him now was similar to back then. With nothing but Gojo’s hand spread out in front of him and the sensation of infinity itself pinning Yuuji against the wall, he couldn’t help but slightly fear for his life. He had never imagined what Gojo’s technique would feel like, and never would he attempt to ever ponder the thought after this. 

It was like air itself was his enemy. The world around him warped to oppose his movements, coiling tightly against his neck and wrists allowing not even a second to think about escape. Although, that was by far the best of it… 

In comparison to his Six Eyes? 

This sensation felt like a blessing.

The chill that ran through his body was merciless, it felt as though it raced up every inch of his veins… yet not just quite. It hovered briefly over his skin, but never once penetrated it. Instead it roamed. It wandered throughout the aura of his cursed energy and slithered between what felt like the cracks of his soul, invading every crevice of his being and digging up the depths of his agony.

Never before had Yuuji feared Gojo.

But then again, never before had Gojo seemed so Godly.

He had thought he understood why the man was considered the strongest that day he stood within his domain. It had been eye opening to witness the extremities which Gojo oh-so casually possessed, however none of those thoughts compared to how it felt to be trapped on the receiving end of such brutality.

For a moment, Yuuji was sure he had even forgotten how to breathe.

Gojo remained relentless in his observation but Yuuji could not fault him for it. Whilst his mind was clearer and he could feel the sensations of occupying his own body return more thoroughly, Yuuji was still not in control. He could feel Sukuna’s presence in the forefront of everything as well as recognize the way his markings stretched across the length of his arms.

Whilst the curse in question remained silent, he was by no means gone.

“Sukuna, for a second I thought I heard you threatening my student… What was it you said again? Megumi, all alone? ” The false joy was unsettling in the way his teacher spoke. Yuuji could barely breathe as he watched the tips of Gojo’s fingers curl ever so slightly, his limbs twisting obediently in response. Pain sprung forth within every inch of his nerves yet Sukuna made no move to acknowledge the phenomenon. Yuuji wasn’t even sure if he could feel such a thing. “It seems you forget your position so quickly.” 

“Casting your precious student aside? How admirable of you Six Eyes.” Sukuna mocked, a smirk forming on his own lips as the curse locked eyes with his Sensei.

“Aw, feeling considerate now are we, Sukuna?” Gojo smirked, stalking forwards with leisurely grace yet never once exposing Fushiguro’s form from where he lay defenceless behind him. “Don’t make everything so personal, it's nothing more than a conflict of interest.”

You hear that brat, how easy it is to fall from your place by his side?

“Fushiguro Megumi. ” Sukuna leered, the name of the boy passing through his lips in such a way that the infinity spiralling around Yuuji’s limbs tightened reflexively as Gojo’s eye twitched with distaste. “Of course… I’ve noticed you take a special liking to him more than the other brats.”

“As have you.” Gojo replied blankly, the tone of his voice devoid of feeling. 

“He’s quite the specimen is he not?” Sukuna taunted further. Yuuji could feel the satisfaction within the other churn heavily across his mind as Gojo continuously took the bait the curse offered so readily. 

“Naturally, he’s mine after all.” 

Despite the easy-going grin, Gojo’s voice was stern as he spoke the words — possessive , Yuuji would even go as far to say.

“Oh, now is he really?” Sukuna murmured, the sharpness of his smile never once slipping as he spoke. “Then I suppose it would be an issue if I were to kill him?” 

Yuuji suppressed an internal wince as Gojo’s fist clenched involuntarily, nevertheless the reaction only seemed to make Sukuna more eager to continue his tirade. 

“Or perhaps I’ll decide to take him for myself, it’s not often a Sorcerer catches my attention… especially not one as charming as my little blessing. ”

Yuuji gasped as the air was forced out from his lungs in an instant, his bones practically crying in anguish as a sudden added force toppled over his being the second the words slipped out from Sukuna’s tongue. 

“Now, now… You’ll have to be careful of your strength, Six Eyes.” Sukuna jeered, his voice upbeat and filled to the brim with pleasure. “You wouldn’t want anything to happen to the poor brat, now would you?”

“Like I said before, Yuuji is not an interest as of right now.” 

“ Gojo— ” Fushiguro jumped in immediately, his voice slightly strained with the pain from his injury yet no less aggravated by his Sensei’s nonchalant response. However before he could utter out a single reprimand for the older man Sukuna’s merciless laughter filled the air. 

“I see Sorcerers are just as selfish as they were in my time, you are all the same righteous fools you pretend to be.” The curse remarked snidely, scoffing at the notion. 

“Sukuna, why did you switch?” Gojo cut in, growing irritated at the obvious games curse was playing. “You clearly have no intention of fighting back, I mean unless you really are this weak. ” 

Gojo smirked, leaning back as a smile laced his face and his eyes lit with evident glee. Yuuji could practically feel the irritation swirling within his stomach as the words settled within the air.

“Righteous and idiotic indeed.” Sukuna bluntly bit back unamused. “Do not fear Six Eyes, the day will come where I cleave your soul in two, but for now I merely wanted to visit Fushiguro Megumi… He’s always such a pleasure to see after all.” Sukuna confessed alluringly, his bloody gaze trailed down to lock onto that of midnight hues. The mere action of Fushiguro tensing under the wave of coyness was enough for Gojo to be stripped from his indifferent facade as he took an infuriated step forwards, winter eyes gleaming with rage as he growled. 

“Sukuna, I swear— ”

It was then that all the threads within Yuuji’s mind snapped. He could feel the way his body collapsed in on itself as Sukuna retreated back gleefully, the puppeteer finally relinquishing his hold. Yuuji could sense it now, the recesses of his mind growing stronger as his hold on his body grew more prevalent in each passing second. The reddened atmosphere waned from his vision and the rush of water dwindled from his ears as the world around him grew brighter under his senses.

Sukuna was gone. 

Yuuji was back in control. 

“Itadori!” Fushiguro’s voice snapped him out of his stupor and Yuuji blinked up to the crouched figure in front of him, his mind bleary with the remnants of disorder. 

“Ah, Yuuji-kun! Glad to see you back!” Gojo smiled, his voice had levelled back to its typical joyous tones yet the coldness from before couldn’t help but still haunt Yuuji’s mind nonetheless. 

“Sorry, Fushiguro! Sensei!” Yuuji yelled apologetically once he had fully gotten a grasp of himself once more. “I was too tired to stop him, Sukuna’s never tried to switch like that before. I think when Fushiguro—”

“Nevermind that.” Gojo interrupted, obviously restraining himself from whatever emotions the curse had previously riled up. “We might have to add more control lessons into your schedule though.” 

“Right!” Yuuji agreed automatically before his gaze trailed over to Fushiguro’s exhausted form ahead of him. The boy had moved over to kneel next to him, eyes gleaming with concern, nothing but a hand around his stomach to keep his stitches in place. “Oh! Fushiguro! Are you alright? Sukuna didn’t hurt you too much did he?”

He severely hoped not. Yuuji couldn’t begin to imagine the things that possibly could’ve happened to his friend due to his misjudgment.

“No, you idiot.” Fushiguro sighed, undeniably reading Yuuji’s guilt like an open book once again. “Sukuna was just being an asshole as usual—” 

“As usual?” Gojo leapt in, his voice terse. 

“Gojo-sensei was the one who hurt you. ” Fushiguro continued on, worry and irritance lacing his voice as he distinctly shot Gojo a glare at for outburst. 

“Ah, sorry about that Yuuji-kun!” Gojo heartily apologised, raising a single hand as his half bowed. “No hard feelings right?” 

The words were light and carefree, yet Yuuji could hear the implication nonetheless. 

You understand why I did what I did.

Why I said what I said.

“Of course!” He grinned happily, disregarding the way Fushiguro berated him for his easy going acceptance and scolded Gojo for his careless words. Gojo was smiling at him pleasantly, the gratitude in his stance evident to Yuuji’s mind, because now it was obvious. If the choice ever arose again between Yuuji and Fushiguro — He knew exactly who Gojo would pick. 

And not once would Yuuji ever blame him for it. 

It was sort of comforting, knowing that there was someone out there who would be able to stop him before he did anything to harm the people he loved. Even though it was Gojo, his dearest Sensei, who was the one who had grown so ready to kill him at that moment, Yuuji could not bring himself to find any animosity towards the man. 

It was an instinct to protect, Yuuji could understand it. 

It’s nothing more than a conflict of interest.

His precious student or his precious child? 

The boy he taught and cared for daily or the treasure whom he had raised carefully with every fibre of his being?

How could Yuuji possibly grow upset at such an action when even to him it was clear as day what the choice would be? It was an ultimatum that most parents would hardly hesitate in making.

Not to mention, the plain and honest truth of the matter was that he deserved it.

If Yuuji had done anything to harm Fushiguro at that instant…

He would never forgive himself for as long as he lived. 

That much was certain.