Chapter Text
The feeble light of the early morning sun crept through the openings on either side of the curtain, the heavy drapes pooling on the floor and cutting off any other fissure through which the hotel room could be disturbed. Behind that window lay the low hills typical to this region, their verdant colour appearing unsaturated while the sky still held traces of the night before.
Suguru stirred, having been woken for once by the growing daylight and not the sound of his alarm, which made his head hurt and put him in a foul mood for the rest of the morning. This made a different kind of bell pound through his head, waking him with a start, because as far as he remembered they had a mission to complete and sleeping in to the extent that he had was never on the agenda. The cursed spirit he had placed as a sentry during the night had not been disturbed, and neither had he heard the sound of a phone ringing so that one of the higher ups could reprimand them for their laziness. That meant this whole situation was not only known by the assistant managers, but allowed, making it just that more unusual.
Apart from this, nothing about the room seemed otherwise out of place. It had the same crisp linens and neutral colour palette as every other mid-grade hotel did. Even as he extended his awareness via the cursed spirit, everything seemed to be functioning as usual, with staff already manning the front desk and preparing a buffet breakfast whilst other travellers took their time with their morning, making it unlikely they were trapped in some weird domain. He reached for his phone, only to find his arm warm and sleep-heavy, wrapped loosely around another body.
Immediately, awareness rushed through his veins, fuelling a fight-or-flight reaction that was the only appropriate reaction for this situation. He sat up fully, scanning the room, the empty couch, just to double check that yes, he was not only in bed with his classmate, but cuddling him. Cuddling Gojo Satoru.
Retracting his arm, not as quickly as he would’ve liked, because he was raised to be kind and polite towards everyone, including insufferable sorcerers even if they were currently asleep, he withdrew, shuffling towards his half of the mattress and putting as much distance as he could between the two of them. A mild discomfort settled under his skin, and he felt incredibly lucky to be the one to have woken up first. Gojo would never have let him live it down.
Whatever. This can all be sorted out later, when he is dressed and ready to untangle the day ahead. Pulling down the covers, his socked feet touched the ground. Leaving his classmate alone in the bed with the guilty feeling one gets when sneaking out after a one-night stand (not that he’d know), he made his way to the bathroom.
A few minutes later, he pulled open the sliding doors again, bathing the otherwise dark room in a warm orange glow, letting the cool outside air diffuse the humidity inside. Sitting against the door was Gojo, white hair tousled and sleep still crusting his eyes. Clutching a pillow, he looked like he had been forcibly dragged out of bed, and the tension that lined his features relaxed slightly as Suguru drew closer.
Standing above him, the distance between them felt infinite, compounding with every second that passed. His voice was gritty as he spoke, and he had to clear his throat a few times before he could get out a sentence.
“You left me behind.” The words were not whined, as they would typically be, or even accusatory, just a flat statement that hung in the air.
Suguru exhaled shakily. He had forgotten.
xxxxx
When he first came to Jujutsu tech, he had been in the habit of carrying a large backpack with him everywhere, constantly adjusting its position on his shoulders, shifting it up as its weight made it slip uncomfortably down. Now, after a few months, he preferred a single pen, and occasionally a notebook, while his classmates came empty handed. So here he was, carefully tidying his desk, tucking his chair in and thinking about what he would do after he stepped out of the building, because whilst he may be reluctant friends with his classmates, there was hardly an excess of alternatives.
His teacher halted that train of thought as he was about to cross the threshold, calling him and Gojo back. “I have another mission for you,” he said, holding a clipboard with the files attached to it. “A curse was recently spotted by one of our windows in a rural town. It should not be above a Grade 2, but we’re not too sure as it hasn’t been displaying outwards aggression. There are currently no victims, but it could potentially grow into something more dangerous. I thought you two would be able to handle it.”
Suguru couldn’t ignore the underlying meaning behind his words. It wasn’t just their combined power, which he had to begrudgingly admit set them far above any other sorcerer of their caliber, but the way he was trying to force them into a deeper friendship. They had gone on missions before, and it had turned out fine, even if they did bicker and argue and drive the assistant managers insane every step of the way, but when it came down to it they got the job done, so Suguru didn’t see any need to expand on that professional relationship.
Even still, he couldn’t decline a mission, and although he would prefer to be doing most other things than spending a few days in the countryside with Gojo, he said nothing as Yaga handed over the clipboard, letting them read over the finer details alone. Gojo set the file on the table, fingers hesitating in the air as if wanting to dance over its surface, but refrained, instead reaching for the paper, pulling it free from its clasp with a sharp click. His eyes scanned over the words, and he handed it to Suguru, something like excitement on his face as he left, babbling on about the holidays he had taken in this region and restaurants they absolutely must stop by.
Suguru was now alone in the classroom, yet it felt crowded with all the thoughts in his head threatening to spill out into the empty air. He glanced outside, through the window, at the courtyard he had grown familiar with, and beyond that to the buildings of the dorms, slivers of which could be seen through the trees. He didn’t want to take this mission, but if this was what was required to prevent a potentially dangerous curse running unchecked, then this was what he would do.
Those convictions were the only thing that carried him through the next few days, their upcoming departure having thrown his room and the dorms as a whole into a state of disarray with frantic packing. And yet, as he dragged his suitcase over uneven ground to the assistant manager’s waiting car, they nearly snapped as he was reminded of the type of person his classmate was. Gojo stood under the shade of a nearby tree, an innumerable amount of suitcases and bags lining the road beside him. He frowned when he saw Suguru.
“Are you sure you packed enough,” he asked, something like concern lacing his voice.
“Are you sure you packed enough,” Suguru snapped back.
Gojo looked at him like he was the one who had suggested something insane. “Well, yeah, I already cut down, like, five bags. These are the essentials, you know? All my clothes, and then spare clothes in case those get dirty, and then jackets and stuff because it can get cold up there, and then I need spares for those, and I was like, ‘Well I know most hotels have washing machines and stuff but these need to be washed in a certain way and dry cleaned as well,’ so I packed some more extras. Just in case.”
“Have fun carrying all that,” Suguru muttered under his breath, neglecting to mention that it wouldn’t even fit in the car in the first place, and Gojo would be forced to leave his precious clothes behind on the side of the road, because no one else was going to bring them back to his room for him.
Gojo, being the person he is, caught his words, and opened his mouth to ask what he meant, when the assistant manager came by. He eyed the mass of bags, and slightly hesitant at reprimanding the Gojo clan’s precious heir, turned to him to say, “We can only fit one of them in the car, so choose your favourite.”
His face pressed down into an unhappy pout. “What, why? Can’t we get a bigger car?”
“No,” Suguru supplied, all too happy to burst his bubble.
Looking stricken, Gojo continued to demand, “Well, what am I supposed to do with all this then? I can’t just pick one! Each of these is carefully organised!”
Suguru was already halfway to the car as the assistant manager tried to subdue his complaints. “I’m sorry, but we really don’t have the space, and we’re already short on time to get to the station, so we can’t bring them back and reorganise them. I’m afraid you’ll just have to pick one.”
Which of the suitcases Gojo ended up picking, he didn't know, and was pretty sure Gojo himself didn't know the contents either, but soon enough the boot of the car slammed shut and the boy slid into the seat next to him, at least having the sense to pull the door closed behind him. He immediately began to fiddle with his seat, as despite it being a cheap car, it was still nice enough to have a reclining function. Both of them were well used to it by now, so neither Suguru nor the assistant manager mentioned the drive would be fifteen minutes long.
The world passed in stops and starts, blurring when they entered the highway, and frozen as if in a still frame when they stopped at the lights. But sure enough, not even the whole fifteen minutes had passed when they arrived at the train station, the large interchange bustling despite the early morning rush having long passed. The trio found their platform, Gojo following them blindly with his eyes glued to his phone, likely texting Shoko about the tragedy that had occurred, yet he put it away when their supervisor handed them their tickets.
“Keep these safe,” he said. “We're a little short on sorcerers, so I won't be accompanying you and helping you fight the curse. Consider it practice for putting up and managing a veil. Anyways, keep me up to date with your progress, and I'll meet you back here in a few days.”
With a wave, he left them alone. “Nice to know he cares about us that much,” Suguru remarked dryly, but Gojo wasn't listening and already making his way up the platform. Suguru grabbed his sleeve, although part of him just wanted to let him go.
“What are you doing?” Gojo asked at the interruption. “First class is this way.”
“Our seats are down here,” he replied, even though both of them already knew that.
“My family invests in this train line. I can get our seats upgraded, no problem.”
Suguru frowned. “We should do what the higher ups say. Let's not go wandering off, or else we might get in trouble.”
“Who cares about them?” Gojo whined unhappily, but he stayed with Suguru anyway, familiar with how both their stubbornness can easily turn a disagreement into a screaming match. He was surprised at that, as usually the boy would rather do anything else than defer to another person. For the briefest second, the thought that maybe he wanted to complete the trip on good terms crossed Suguru’s mind, but left just as quickly. Gojo didn’t care about other people.
They stored their luggage in the designated areas, Gojo having managed to sneak in a backpack as well as a suitcase, and made their way to their seats. Suguru put in his headphones, having to tweak the cord a few times before music started playing out of both speakers. He hoped it was as clear of a sign as any on how he wanted to spend his trip, and luckily his classmate took the hint. Instantly Suguru felt a little bad, knowing how he liked to pass the time, and seeing him sitting idly in his seat, staring out at the platform, head turned so that not even his blackout glasses could be seen, was so uncharacteristic that Suguru couldn’t help the needle of remorse sliding through his veins.
But he didn’t pull his headphones out, didn’t tap Gojo’s shoulder, didn’t offer any words.
Later, he resolved, I’ll make it up to him later.
They passed the trip in silence.
By the time the train rolled through the station, the sky had taken on an afternoon radiance that brightened the countryside. Gojo stepped out first, rolling his suitcase by his side with Suguru close behind, making a beeline for the closest vending machine.
“Do you want something as well?” he asked, punching numbers into the keypad.
“No, I’m good,” Suguru replied. He didn’t want to eat now if he was going to swallow curses later and run the risk of throwing up. He hated it, but it came with the job.
Gojo shrugged, shoving his hand into the pickup box to claim his food. “Hey, remember what I said earlier about this place having good food? I think we should exorcise this curse as soon as possible, and then we have a full day tomorrow to explore.”
“Fine by me.”
The truth was, places like this didn’t often have much besides nature, and even that got boring after a few seconds of looking. There were no fancy restaurants, or historical landmarks, or anything worth doing in these small towns. Suguru knew that all too well.
“Apparently it was last seen by a small shrine in the north of the village,” Gojo continued, pulling out photos of a dense forest and the overgrown stones that dedicated the place to some unknown god. “The god of the shrine used to be heavily revered, but over the centuries, as famine struck and villagers moved into the cities, people stopped believing in it. The file doesn’t even have its name.”
Suguru frowned. “If we don’t know information as basic as that, how are we going to find the shrine?”
“We might be able to ask an Obaasan, someone who might remember where it is. Otherwise, we can just keep walking around until we find it!”
His reaction must’ve shown clearly on his face, as Gojo laughed. “Come on, I’m sure we won’t get that lost. Besides, with me here, we’ll definitely find it in no time and exorcise it quickly as well!”
“Yeah, sure,” Suguru scoffed. “Did the file say anything more about the curse? What it looks like, or if it is related to the shrine in the first place?”
“Nope!” Gojo said, popping the last syllable. “Man, these things sure are useless. Let’s throw it away.” Suguru couldn’t even argue with him, only providing some feeble retort about how Yaga will be mad, yet the invocation of his name was enough to quiet his classmate, even though most of their superiors were probably far more terrified of him. He wondered what their teacher had done to garner such respect.
As they started down the path that spiraled into the main square, suitcases bouncing over the uneven stones, they were met with a figure approaching in the opposite direction.
“Look, Geto, it’s an Obaasan, like I said!” Gojo half-whispered, grabbing his arm roughly.
He was right - an older lady was climbing the hill to the train station. Wearing a large brimmed hat, they could just make out the warmth of her eyes peeking out from beneath. She wore loose, long sleeves, likely to stave off the sun, and yet did not appear to be sweaty or uncomfortable at all. As they passed, her gaze briefly slid over them, as if to appraise, and then it returned to the road ahead. Suguru felt the urge to call out after her.
“Sorry, Ma’am, the last train just left. It will be a few hours before the next one comes. Would you like us to walk you down to the village?” he offered, stuffing the sentences as full of honorifics and respect as possible. Beside him, Gojo stiffened, jabbing an elbow into his side, obviously against the idea of getting sidetracked.
She did not turn around, instead replying, “That’s okay, I don’t mind waiting,” she chuckled, the sound ringing through the air as if the idea was immensely funny to her.
“Whatever man, let’s just leave her be. She’s obviously fine,” Gojo murmured, fully dropping his volume so she couldn’t hear him.
Suguru stepped on his foot, drawing out a sharp curse and hiss of pain. “Sorry to bother you again, but do you happen to know where this shrine is?” he asked, walking up to where the woman stood.
She took the photograph from his hand, turning it so she could look at it properly. “Just stay on this road. When you come out the other side of the town center, keep walking until you see a trail going off into the woods. Go to the end of that.”
“Thank you,” he bowed.
“Of course,” she laughed again.
When she had disappeared over the top of the hill and into the station, he turned to Gojo, not needing words to convey his meaning.
“Fine, I get it, you were right,” the white-haired boy groaned. Adjusting his sunglasses and the plastic wrapping which was all that remained of his lunch, he said, “Can we actually go and get this over with now?”
Suguru rolled his eyes, but didn’t say otherwise.
The woman’s instructions held true. After dropping off their luggage in the hotel, they followed the road as it drew out the other side of the village. He nearly missed the offshoot, the trail barely earning its name with how it had been overrun by the encroaching forest. They had to fight their way through the broad leaves and mosquitoes, with no small amount of complaining from Gojo, before it spat them out into a small glade. Here the ground was a little more clear, packed dirt and last season’s leaves decomposing in the humidity.
“Um, is this it? It’s a little small…” Gojo commented, wrinkling his nose as a beetle crawled across the soil. “How did they even find it in the first place? There’s no way anyone’s been here for a while.”
Suguru looked around at the clearing, for once having to agree with Gojo. “There’s no way we can fight properly in a space this small. Maybe we missed an earlier trail?”
Gojo stiffened beside him. “Somehow I don’t think so.”
Suguru turned to see what regular eyes had missed. The shrine, obviously once perched on a large boulder, had fallen off, its components laying in a pile of rubble along its base. The thin shimenawa which had once marked the place as sacred began to rustle, a strong wind blowing in from the glade’s singular opening. Above the shrine, a dark ball began to coalesce, thrumming with power.
Gojo took several steps backwards, nearly crashing into Suguru. “You’re right,” he shouted as the wind picked up and sent the branches above them thrashing. “I don’t think we can fight here. We’ll have to lure it out.”
“How?” Suguru yelled back. “The road is hardly any better and someone might see!”
Gojo raised his hand, a swirling orb of blue forming between his fingers. “I’ll tear down the area, give you more space to use your curses.”
Suguru tried to say something back, but the immense pressure of the growing tempest stole his words as they left his mouth. Instead, he gave a sharp nod of agreement, turning to the curse as its body began to take shape.
Tall and somewhat feminine, it lacked the usual physical disfigurations of curses, with only the crown of its head wrapped in some bulbous growth indicating its bitter origin. It was swathed in a singular long piece of fabric that covered its entire body, the layering of which brought out shades of grey that borderlined black in the places it was thickly wrapped. At the edges of the sleeves, the thin neckline and wispy silk around its feet the cloth was almost transparent.
Its face held no particular features, yet it turned to look at them anyway, regarding them with eyes it did not possess. Presumably sensing their immense cursed energy, it raised its hands, beginning to chant without a mouth as its head tilted up to face the sky. What little blue could be seen from beneath the thickly intertwined canopy rapidly began to darken, almost like a storm was forming above them. Suguru gritted his teeth. An ultimate move from the enemy was not the ideal way to start a battle.
His partner clearly thought the same, choosing to send Blue careening into the curse’s chest. Before the resulting smoke had faded, Sugurru launched himself at it, aiming a series of kicks at its chest. But instead of flesh giving way, he was met with a hard wall that not even legs reinforced with cursed energy could bring down. It's made of stone…?
Jumping back, he sent out a cursed spirit. Somewhat resembling an arachnid with far too many legs, it crept jerkily towards its target, spraying an acidic mucus that ate away at the ground. The curse screamed as it was damaged, the sound like the harsh grinding of metal upon metal. The clouds continued to swirl above, twisting around a dark central point.
Gojo sent out several more waves of Blue, bringing down trees to launch at the target, whereas Suguru charged again. The curse, while heavily armoured, was otherwise unable to defend itself when charging its power, making it invulnerable to the effective attacks from the spider-like creature. Its visage was chipping, corroding, but too slowly, and a heavenly beam of light was meanwhile descending from the sky.
The cursed spirit raised its arms, clasping them together so as to form a single pillar. Sparks flew where the light met its arms and they began to glow, radiating with heat and energy. With another rattling shriek it pointed the beam at them, letting loose a charged bolt of electricity that spread across the field. In a split second, Suguru decided to sacrifice his cursed spirit, watching its body disintegrate in the whitish glare. He reached into his store, hastily running through the demons he carried, knowing nothing would be able to stop the blast yet unable to run away fast enough.
Something collided with his midsection and he flew several feet, bouncing harshly against the ground. When his vision returned, it was slow, in spots and bright stars that lingered even when he blinked, several times to rid the dust from his eyes. He was lying on the ground and everything hurt. Gojo's head was pressed against his neck, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. A blanket he recognised as Infinity slowly began to recede, exposing his back to every twig and pebble that jutted sharply into his spine. Gojo groaned weakly.
Pushing himself to his feet, he glanced around. The charred body of his cursed spirit was fading away, thin particles drifting off into the blue sky. The clearing was strewn with detritus, fallen logs and acid burns marking the scene. The air was still, almost unnaturally so after the chaos it had been earlier, and from it came a tentative birdsong as if the world had resumed.
Gojo was still lying on the ground, eyes closed. His glasses had been lost at some point. Suguru should've asked if he was okay, but all he could get out was, “You saved me.”
And sure, that concept in itself was not ridiculous, they were classmates and partners above all else, not to mention the amount of paperwork that would have to be filled out should one of them actually die, but it was something the version of Gojo that lived in his head would never do, and for the first time, Suguru truly wondered if that impression was as accurate as he thought.
“Yeah,” the boy croaked. “Of course.” Pulling himself upright, he said, a bit more clearly, “What the fuck was that.”
And despite their situation, Suguru couldn't help but laugh. The whole thing could have barely lasted more than a minute.
“Hey,” Gojo complained, the only sign needed to show that he was fine. “I'm really beat up over here. That was not okay. Never again.”
Suguru's shoulder shook as he tried to muffle his laughs. “You have Infinity, you baby, you're perfectly fine. But about that cursed spirit, I'm not too sure,” he said, walking to the edge of the clearing, peaking out through the arch made by the trees to the road and village beyond. “That was pretty weird, and I don't know how it could've just disappeared like tha-”
A sharp pain flooded every limb in his body, agony coursing through his veins, tearing his head apart, raking bloody fingers across his lungs, and he staggered backwards, tripping over stray branches, to fall on the damp ground. Through hearing muffled by the pounding in his ears, distorted as if underwater, as if happening to someone else, he recognised the sound of Gojo's screams.