For the average person, breaking the bond was a nearly insurmountable task, one only possible when the two had become so irrevocably hurt by one another that there was no hope of recollection. Only then would it shatter.
Satoru Gojo, on the other hand, first broke his soul bond at the age of twelve. He hadn’t felt the pull before then and he knew from the moment he felt it that he despised it. It felt like a weight was sitting on his chest any given moment. It was gentle enough but coupled with every other sensation he had to alter through with his six eyes, it was still too noticeable for his liking; he was told that when he found his soulmate the weight would start to feel like a comfort instead. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to care for the feeling or the stranger who laid on the other side.
Perhaps that was why it was so simple to will the bond to disappear, to let that unknowable thread that tied him to this stranger snap. It made a world of difference in just a moment, Satoru feeling his chest lighter again.
It would have been only another bother, truthfully, to have someone else around. Satoru had enough on his shoulders alone, he didn’t need to bear the burden of a stranger’s weakness.
Feeling the bond snap at such a young age was an experience Suguru Geto wished on nobody. Even someone he had not met did not want him. As he felt it snap, Suguru let tears fall for only a few minutes before wiping them away and steeling his young heart on the future.
He did not need this soulmate, no. He would bide his time until he could attend Jujutsu Tech and dedicate himself to saving the lives of innocents—no soulmate was required for that.
Years later as he sat in the new classroom, still readjusting the collar of his new uniform, Suguru waited. The other new student beside him, Shoko, seemed entirely unbothered by this delay as their teacher was typing away frantically on his flip phone. Apparently he knew the missing student, had tried calling five times and had been sent to voicemail each and every time.
It had been a half an hour of waiting for this ‘Satoru Gojo’ and Suguru already disliked him.
He came in like a hurricane, slamming the door open and entirely unbothered by the fact the first day technically had started nearly 45 minutes ago, “Quit blowing up my phone, Yaga I’ve only got so many minutes.”
Oh, Suguru could tell without even turning his head to look at his new classmate what kind of smarmy smile he was wearing as he continued, “Only joking—as if I’d have a limit.” He snickers as if there’s some joke there that Suguru and the others are not in on.
Suguru would grant himself the simple joy of watching Gojo get chewed out on his first day and looked over to the seat next to him only to see sunglasses staring right back at him. The teacher was saying something, a loud mess of words Suguru couldn’t bother to care about.
Not when piercingly beautiful eyes finally glanced over the glasses and met his gaze. Not when the weight on his chest that had lasted for only a few hours all of those years ago returned once more.
“Oh,” Suguru breathed out and couldn’t stop his face from showing the mix of surprised and frank disappointment his soulmate would be such a brazen and self-absorbed slacker, “It’s you.”
It was established fairly quickly on in their first year that Gojo and Geto were a duo best utilized together; the pair worked well. Satoru was able to relatively easily control mid-level curses, and pass them for Geto to devour. A few months into the school year and a pattern had already been established.
This is not to say that Satoru enjoyed these missions, quite the opposite. They were mind-numbing most of the time, and Geto’s presence did not help in that matter. The only discussion they had on being soulmates had come after their first day when he and Geto had agreed not to tell anyone about it. They hadn’t spoken about the first heartbreak years ago, nor how easily it snapped back in place when they finally met. And by no means had either broached the subject of breaking it again. It hung as heavy as the bond itself in Satoru’s chest as they were sent on mission after mission.
The veil had been dropped twenty minutes ago now, and still no sign of the supposed curse. If he couldn’t sense the traces of it scattered aimlessly around the park, Satoru would have thought it was some poor-taste joke.
“Stop kicking up the dirt,” Geto’s voice was calm but still Satoru can hear the edge of annoyance.
He huffed and gave the dirt one last purposeful kick, as if making a point, “Not like there’s anything else to do. Hello~,” Satoru waved his arms around and shouts, “Come out, come out wherever you are little curse~”
Geto’s hand smacked his arm down, “Stop that. There’s no need to try and agitate them when we can simply sit here and wait until we either see it or we make sense of the traces it’s left behind.”
“Boring,” Satoru rolled his eyes behind his glasses and leaned back against the nearby tree.
“And what else do you suggest we do, then?” Geto barely asked it as a question and Satoru knew it was meant to shut him up. In reality, it only egged him on that much more. After all, he did know of a way to make it far more exciting and interesting, and they might as well hash it out now rather than wait for some unknown ‘later’.
“We could talk about the whole soulmate thing,” he shrugged, “Or are you waiting for me to apologize before we can talk about it?”
Geto’s expression was nearly unreadable, save for a few blinks. In a moment, his back was turned and he wanders aimlessly around the tree, “Apologize for what?”
“Ending it?” Satoru was almost surprised at how little Geto seemed to care. It’s not as if Satoru himself felt all too sorry—he had been so young and even now, the idea of soulmates is not all that appealing. Perhaps he was lucky enough by fate to be tied to someone who felt much the same.
By now, Geto has wandered his way to the other side of the tree and for a moment Satoru wished he could see Geto’s expression as he spoke, “There’s truly nothing you need to apologize for. It’s not as if soulmates are anything more than some burden arbitrarily placed upon us by whatever powers that be. If either of us do not wish for it to remain, then we can break it. Simple as that.”
Satoru knew it was not quite as ‘simple as that’. It was meant to be challenging, and unbearingly painful to break the bond. It had been easy for him years ago, but he never asked of Suguru how it felt. But given his nonchalance with it now, Satoru closed his eyes and reached around for the bond. Within a second it was broken and the weight that had become a comfort on his chest was now gone.
Before he could open his mouth to say anything, the curse finally came into a view—a small, but grotesque, moth-like creature that flitted about quickly. No wonder it had been so challenging to pin it down.
“You think it heard me calling it over?” Satoru looks back around to the other side of the tree with a shit-eating grin.
“Oh please shut up, Gojo.”
As more months passed, and each settled into the comfort of the broken bond, it became easier for Suguru to spend time around Satoru. He was still a nuisance at times, but one that Suguru was finding at least moderately amusing. In fact, he was actually enjoying spending time around Satoru, even if it was nights being forced to watch terrible movies, or listening to him blabber on about some celebrity gossip Suguru had no interest in, it was time well spent.
Even on missions it had become clear that the pair were closer. No longer did either need to think about what the other was doing or where his weaknesses might be, no, it was instinct. Sometimes Suguru wondered if it was some lingering aftereffect of their soulmate bond, but the hollow feeling in his chest told him that was long gone. Suguru still felt the pull at times to reinstate the bond, when Satoru’s eyes would meet his and shine, or when his laugh was particularly bright. He knew better though, knew it was a decision they had both made and to force it back upon Satoru was unwise. And yet he still let him imagine.
“Ouch!” Satoru whined as Suguru continued to press the alcohol swab against the cut in his arm.
“If you stop squirming it will hurt less,” Suguru tried to keep his voice stern and steady but he couldn’t help but huff out a laugh—the strongest sorcerer brought to complaining like a child over a cut. Sure, the cut was surprisingly deep, but still, it was almost amusing to see.
“And if you stop pressing so hard, I’ll stop squirming,” Satoru’s eyes met his, the sunglasses long discarded, with a pout on his face.
“Satoru,” the name felt so right on his tongue, “I can either stop treating this wound now and I can let it get infected and you’ll bitch about it later or suck it up and it’ll be fine.”
Satoru leaned in closer, still frowning as he questioned, “When’s Shoko back? She can deal with me.”
“Few more days, she’s out on a mission with some of the Kyoto students,” Suguru sighed as he had already told him as much this morning. As usual, though, Satoru hadn’t listened and as usual, Suguru didn’t mind as much as he should for reminding him, “So I’m afraid you’re stuck with my medical expertise for now.” If he pressed the pad more harshly into Satoru’s wound for affect, he would never admit.
“What medical expertise?” Satoru raised an eyebrow and Suguru watched as a devilish smile, “I know, I know, you’re such the teacher’s pet of our class and that’s probably given you an unnecessarily big ego that you could do anything, but being a doctor is definitely not one.”
Somewhere in becoming friends, it had become apparent how much Satoru enjoyed getting a rise out of him, and Suguru still always took the bait, “Is that so? And here I thought the one with the oversized ego was you. Suppose that isn’t the case, though, considering your oh-so-special infinity didn’t come up quick enough to protect you this time.”
Looking up from the wound, Suguru found himself far closer to Satoru, the other’s face barely inches away from his. He tried to read the expression in Satoru’s eyes, only to find himself lost in the crystal blue of them. Suguru’s heart beat so loudly in his ears he could barely hear Satoru say, “We’ll get stronger.”
Maybe it is the promise itself that does or their closeness that does it. The weight settled back into Suguru’s chest, warmer than it had been the past times he had felt the bond. It all seemed to make sense then, why tales were told of soulmates, why so many people yearned to find their other half, why fate itself had drawn these two together.
Suguru couldn’t recall even years later if he or Satoru had closed the distance first. All he could remember was how chapped Satoru’s lips were and how little he cared about that. When they finally parted, Suguru was smiling more earnestly than he ever had in his life.
“Perhaps the soulmate thing isn’t too terrible,” he mused, the back of his hand tracing up Satoru’s cheekbones as he watched the other teen’s eyes widen.
“Just ‘perhaps’?” If anyone didn’t know how much Satoru enjoyed dramatics, they may have thought he was truly offended. But Suguru knew better, he could see the glint in Satoru’s eyes as he continued, “Sounds like you need more convincing.”
Before Satoru could lean in again, Suguru pulled back so far he was practically laying against his pillows snickering, “That is the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard.”
“Oh, I’ve got worse,” Satoru assured, no hesitation in crawling on top of Suguru until his face was once again so close. For Suguru’s liking, though, he still was not close enough. He craved the feeling of those lips again.
For the rest of the evening, the pair were never more than a few inches from each other.
Satoru felt as if he were no longer in his body at that moment. He had transcended to be a vessel for his power, his rage, and nothing more. As he stood in the stark white room filled with faces smiling at the death of an innocent young girl.
He hadn’t meant to break the bond, but as he looked at Suguru with Riko in his arms, it snapped anyway. Satoru’s chest felt empty suddenly, but whether it was from the bond or the death, he couldn’t say.
It was a bit of everything that broke him that day.
It was nearly a week before Suguru saw Satoru again. They had passed each other briefly, as he was leaving from giving his report to Yaga and the higher-ups and Satoru was heading in. Even then, trying to steal a glance at Satoru’s expression felt like peeking behind the curtain at a wake. It only rattled the emptiness inside of Suguru, his own soul aching for its other half. Perhaps, he decided, it was better the bond was broken. It had been too many times now already that what had meant to tie them together had been severed. They could still be together without the soulmate bond, anyway, it wasn’t strictly necessary. And it might at the very least save them both from the back and forth that seemed to be persistent.
That night, Suguru heard a knock on his bedroom door, followed soon after by someone coming in. He didn’t need to open his eyes at all to know who it was. And when the man slipped into the bed beside him and wrapped his arms around Suguru, it was a familiar warmth and comfort.
Neither teen said anything for a while, but still Suguru couldn’t fall sleep. Were they really not going to talk of it at all? Were they to simply move on and act as if Amanai’s death was some mere unfortunate accident, a byproduct of the world of jujutsu?
The arms around him tighten and another promise is made, “I’ll get stronger.” And just as it had months ago, Suguru could feel the bond accidentally slip back into place. It felt sour this time around, for Satoru’s simple words revealed too much.
No longer was it ‘we’, but now just Satoru alone to bear the burden of strength. Suguru had proven himself too weak, hadn’t he? The chasm between them was only bound to grow ever deeper.
Maybe it would be enough, the reformed bond, maybe that could hold together the pieces of Geto that already were threatening to tear apart.
It was not enough.
No amount of Satoru’s love could outweigh the sheer rage and disillusionment Suguru felt. Occasional missions alone became the standard, the horror of swallowing down each curse and bringing them into his being became routine. At nights, Satoru would talk endlessly about how he was improving, how infinity would never make him susceptible to the likes of a Toji Fushiguro ever again. And Suguru was, truly and genuinely, happy for that. He only wished that he could say the same. Instead, he felt more used and tired than ever.
And then he broke. Two young innocent girls who could have a future, like the one Riko had dreamed of in her final moments, abused by non-sorcerers who knew nothing of the truth and instead longed for their deaths.
Disgusting.
When all was said and done, Suguru finally felt at ease for the first time in a while, since the night he and Satoru had shared long ago and promised strength together. But Satoru had long abandoned their united front it seemed, so Suguru felt no need to keep holding onto a mirage of hope.
He chose his words carefully in what he thought would be the final conversation, knowing exactly what to say to hurt Satoru, break him. He didn’t deserve being dragged into ideas of genocide simply because his soulmate had gone down that path. No, Satoru needed to find his own meaning in life, beyond the ideals of strength or the mandates of the higher-ups, or even beyond the force of fate itself that had brought these boys together.
It was a parting gift, Suguru believed, the freedom of a broken bond.
It took years until Satoru gave into the urge to try and find Suguru again. By now the number of innocents he killed ensured there was no chance of even naively hoping things could go back. Instead, Satoru had steeled himself for a different future than the one he had imagined years ago when Suguru was all that had mattered in the world. Despite knowing how even seeing Suguru again would reopen the wound, Satoru thought perhaps that it would be worth it. It would be a reminder as to why he would be starting as a teacher the upcoming school year: to ensure that no sorcerer, no matter how disillusioned, would turn out this way again. Suguru was brazen in his presence, even if his exact location at any given moment was unknown. The temple he had established was at least a given. And thankfully with Six Eyes, Satoru could stay far away and indulge in just the simple to desire to make sure that Suguru was at least still alive. No longer with the soulmate bond, Satoru would never know. And the idea of not ever knowing for certain gnawed at him until it drove him to finally see him.
Perched on the roof of one of the highest buildings in the area, Satoru carefully watched the back exit of the temple, waiting. Finally two girls bounded out, Mimiko and Nanako, Satoru had done his research, followed closely behind by their father.
He hadn’t meant to, no intention behind it at all but as if the forces that had tied them together years ago intervened yet again, the bond snapped back in place. Before Satoru could teleport away, he watched as Suguru’s head snapped in his direction, scanning up the tall building until he found Satoru standing there. He offered a simple wave, so unnervingly casual and easygoing.
Satoru couldn’t stay there a moment longer and feel both the need of his bond grow stronger and the hurt eat away at him.
It was almost as if speaking his name aloud is what summoned him back to Jujutsu Tech. Satoru knows it isn’t true, of course; he’s strong but even he lacked the strength to force Suguru back, as years apart had only proven. Nevertheless, Suguru soared down with his gojo-kesa billowing in the wind, descending with surely nothing good to offer.
Though as Yaga hurried off in a rage to collect the other sorcerers on campus to confront him, Satoru could only watch as a bit of that bond still tugged at him in hope. Perhaps he would be back to ask forgiveness, to return. He would not be welcomed, not after all the blood that has stained his every smile—but Satoru would pull strings, threaten the higher-ups to make it so. And as he watched from afar Suguru smiling, it became a easier delusion to believe.
Until the man he loved clasped his hands with Yuta’s and Satoru could now distinguish that smile from the one he had known years ago—no, this was the smile of a man who had gone far off the edge.
“Do me a favor. Could you please stop preaching your crazy beliefs to my students?” In the years Satoru had imagined what his first words to Suguru would be, trying to craft something that could be just as biting and harsh as Suguru’s had been.
Yet his words failed him, for Suguru still turned with a falsely bright smile and sang, “Satoru! Long time no see!”
His heart ached at it, the clear facade worn, the cold kindness that had been so genuine years ago. “Step away from this kids right now, Suguru.”
“I heard this new first year class is simply outstanding.” Satoru watched as Suguru’s head tilted back, the dark hair cascading down as beautiful as the day he had left. “Seems it’s true you till have an eye for talent. A special grade cursed human, a curse corpse mutation, a cursed speech user, and last—the Zenin clan’s biggest failure.”
Satoru so desperately wished he were surprised by this turn of events, or the shocked when he called Maki a ‘monkey’. It was simply a reminder that the man he had loved, had been bound to, was no longer the one in front of him now.
That fact made it no easier, though, as Satoru severed the bond once more and welcomed that loneliness.
The girl was amusing in her irritation. What could a failure of a sorcerer like herself think to threaten him? Still, one part of Suguru still remembered what Toji’s blade had felt like slicing open his chest. No, the brat in front of him could never be a successor to that bastard, and the world was far better for it.
It was in the midst of those thoughts that Suguru felt hollow once more. Surprising, really, after years apart with the bond in tact that now was the time Satoru chose to break it. Back when Satoru had found him and that comforting weight had settled in his chest again, Suguru had expected it to momentary—a blip in the new status quo. But it stayed, and even Suguru himself could not bring himself to break it again.
There was no time, though, to sit and wonder about Satoru’s intentions—not when he had come here with a message. And so following a brief and shockingly truthful apology to Yuta, Suguru declared his intentions.
He had imagined what their faces would look like when he rained hell down upon the jujutsu world, proved to them the folly of their naiveté. And even though he scanned the crowd to see the anger and fear across Nanami, Mei Mei, Yaga, and the others, he could see nothing in Satoru’s blank expression. And somehow that hurt far worse than the emptiness in his chest—the man he had known so well, and thought he still did, had become inscrutable again.
So he stared for a moment unabashedly, to all outsiders it seeming a direct challenge, but to the pair it was a question: Is that still you? In thinking just that alone, Suguru felt the familiar bond settle back into his body.
As his daughter squealed about the cafe, Suguru waited, if only to see if Satoru would break it once more as easily as he had moments ago.
Instead, the threat was only verbal this time, so Suguru dared to push further, to directly threaten the beloved students with the curses he had on hand. Still, the bond now stayed. It seemed as though Satoru was as foolishly sentimental despite all his best efforts to be otherwise. It was fine by Suguru, anyhow, the bond was no irritation and by all accounts it would make for a more interesting war.
“Goodbye everybody! See you at the war!” Suguru smiled as he took his exit, wondering how much longer he and Satoru could keep their dance going or if the music would come to close sooner than either had wanted.
Satoru decided days before Night Parade what he would do with regards to the bond that still weighed on him, even more of a comfort than it had been years ago. It was inevitable that he would see Suguru at some point during the night, the two always drawn together no matter the rest of the chaos in the world. And Satoru knew that if he saw Suguru, it would only be to follow through on the order Satoru had been given the moment Suguru had defected.
Yet, he promised to himself would not break the bond. It would hurt less for Satoru to end it all now cleanly, but when morning would rise, he knew he would be more alone in this world than he had been in years. In some way, the agony of the unsecured bond would be his penance for what he would have to do, it would act as a reminder of the love he had truly held for Suguru all of this time.
Maybe in another world, love would be kinder and easier to the two of them. In this life, though, Satoru would bear the burden of their love forever.