Chapter Text
All Satoru ever knew, was the way how cursed energy pulsated through everything, it coloured his entire world an extra range of colours, varying in different degrees of brightness. It marked where buildings stood, where people were (a much fainter pulse of cursed energy, but present nonetheless). It was stronger with sorcerers, every technique slightly different for his Six Eyes. It caused him to easily distinguish it, to come up with a plan on how to deal with it. He wasn't a special grade sorcerer for nothing. He had trained his entire life, ever since he managed to walk, all he ever really knew was training. He managed to get the hang on both his Six Eyes and his Limitless technique pretty early on, and things only grew from there on. But, as it seemed, even the strongest sorcerer had his weaknesses, had his moments of humanity. One such weakness, was the love he held for his one and only best friend. Geto Suguru. The man he had to kill with his own bare hands, not even an entire year ago. And then, one day in an underground station in Shubuya, he had appeared again. Stitches across his forehead, same cursed energy marking his body, the cursed energy that was so familiar to Satoru. But his soul knew otherwise. The Suguru he knew and fell in love with was long gone. The last words Satoru heard before the world closed in on itself, were gate close.
Inside the prison realm time didn't pass, nor affect him. He had no knowledge left from the outer world, only that things were happening. He couldn't hear nor see anything from outside, and the prison realm itself was marked with darkness, exept for a floor scattered with skulls. The strange thing was, that despite there being no light, was that everything was too bright, like it was trying to burn a hole in Satoru's skull. Inside of there, it was only Satoru and his thoughts. The always present cursed energy that marked his world was gone, and for the first time since he was born he experienced quietness. The oh so unsettling quietness. It made his skin crawl, made him imagine things that weren’t really there. The sensory deprivation had managed to get to him soon, since his technique had always given him more input than normal people. It was also no wonder those images were nothing but haunting him.
He imagined his friends, Suguru and Shoko, the closest ones he ever had. He imagined their youth, the times and laughs spent together. He could hear Shoko's exasperated sigh as she heard that Satoru had managed to get himself sealed, it was nearly comedic in a wicked kind of sense. He could hear Suguru's laugh upon hearing how his one and only best friend was trapped, but then the image of a new Suguru, one with stitches across his forehead appeared in front of him once again, and Satoru's heart got clenched together once more. He didn't like that Suguru's body was being used by someone else, how he was forced to do things he probably didn't want to do. Sure, Suguru's mind hadn't been at the right place for a decade, but he knew that Suguru would never side with curses. Satoru liked to believe that somewhere Suguru was watching, aware of things, but unable to do anything. In a wicked kind of sense, similar to how Satoru found himself.
He started to imagine his students. Not just the current first years, but also the second years, and all of the students he had taught before. He imagined the days he had spent teaching, days he had spent training them. He imagined them going out together, having fun together. It was all rather a peaceful scenery, until piercing screams scattered the dreams. He imagined them laying in front of him, limbs cracked at odd angles, their dull eyes staring up to the sky but not registering anything. He heard them beg, yell his name, ask him to save them. But he was always too late, like they were right there but just out of reach. Like he had failed everyone he cared about.. Every peaceful thought he had of them turned into this gruesome painting, and all made one thing very clear. It. Was. All. His. Fault.
The same things went on for god knows how long. Time was tripy, and Satoru couldn't count it himself, since nothing seemed to change inside of the prison realm. Everything was a vast canvas of everything and nothing all at once, like he was in his own domain expansion, except he was not in control at all. It rather felt like he was at the receiving end of the information. He didn't need to eat, sleep, blink, or even breathe. It was as if his mind and body were trapped in something that preserved him for years. He still liked to sleep from time to time, even if it wasn't needed. He did that before too, since his reverse cursed technique allowed his brain and body to stay fresh at all times sleep became something unneeded for him. His dreams weren't any better than his waking stance, because both plagued him with imaginery nightmare worthy. All taunted him, all made him realise how stupid it was. Satoru had held on to those 3 years of his youth for nearly a decade, he cherished those moments, he longed for them like no other. He wanted things to be how they were, with his best friends next to him, with everything alright. But, time and time again he got confronted with the truth. Nothing would ever be the same again, and the longer he stayed trapped the more sure he was of it.
Satoru wasn't sure he'd ever see the light of day again, everything started to feel quite pointless at some point. He was sealed, and his students probably fighting for their lives. He knew they'd try to unseal him, but doing that would be trippy. He knew the elders didn't like him, he had made sure of that, and he was also quite sure that the elders had made it a crime to even unseal him at this point. But, Satoru could hope. He hoped that his students were alright. He hoped that his friends were alright. He hoped that the world he knew was alright.
Satoru still wasn't sure how much time had passed, or what exactly had happened in order to be spit out right back into the world, because a splitting headache greeted him back. He could feel the ground underneath his hands, hard, cold, piercing, and grounding. The same material was slowly dripping through his pants, like he was ordered to focus on what was underneath him. The sensory information he had lacked for so long attacking him all at once, and the cursed energy he had missed came back, as clear as day. The air smelt fresh, something he didn't think he'd ever smell again. He figured it must've been spring, since the sun felt nice upon his skin and he could faintly smell flowers blooming in the distance. He heard soft murmuring around him, footsteps approaching him until they came to a halt in what Satoru presumed was right in front of him. Satoru didn't want to look up, he wasn't sure if he wanted to see whoever had managed to unseal him. He knew that the only one who could do so would've been Suguru himself, and he was damn sure he hadn't attempted to free himself. He knew it was silly, but the prison realm managed to rip him off of all of his cursed energy, and it had no physical bounds in there either, making breaking free even more trippy.
"Who are you?" A strange voice said, someone Satoru didn't recognise, and he had to blink a few times in order to properly see the world around him. His blindfold was gone, Satoru didn't know how, but he didn't care. He was finally free. "I won't repeat myself again, who are you?" The man asked again, and apparently he had asked it multiple times, but nothing seemed to come through to Satoru's skull. Satoru blinked more, and finally looked up. He saw a tired looking man, long black hair, with a scarf wrapped around his neck. Satoru didn't know him. "I'm-" Satoru's voice was hoarse, probably from not speaking so long, and he coughed a few times before attempting to speak again. "I'm Gojo Satoru." He said, and the man raised an eyebrow at him, like he didn't recognise the name at all. Had the elders erased his entire presence too, Satoru wondered to himself.
"And tell me, why is a teenager at a villain hide-out?" The man asked, and Satoru blinked. "I'm not a teenager." Satoru defended himself, he was pretty sure he was 28 last time he checked. "Trust me kid, I know how a teenager looks like, and you're definitly one. Now tell me, what are you doing here?" The man asked, and Satoru looked oddly at the man, still in the same position, causing his head to be slightly titled a little upwards in order to get a good look at him. "I'm 28." Satoru said, and the man tiredly shook his head. "Whatever. The question remains the same. What are you doing here?" He asked, folding his arms, like he was already done having to deal with Satoru's antics. Satoru lifted his upper body up a little, so he was simply balancing on his knees now, and then shrugged, taking a good look at his nearby surroundings. He was in a warehouse, a tiny window causing the sun to land on his skin. A collection of boxes and odd tubes decorated the scenery, and it made Satoru wonder where he was exactly. Now that he focused a little more on it, he could smell chemicals in the air, but it once again left him in the dark of their possible purpose. It was then that he noticed the other people around , 8 in total, to be exact. The man who had asked Satoru why he was there signaled something, causing Satoru's attention to be thorn away from his surroundings and to focus back on him. "Take the boy to the station, we'll figure there out if he's a villain or not." The man said, and before Satoru could react properly a pair of handcuffs found their way towards his wrists, tightening around them, and he was pulled upwards. "Wait, what?" Satoru asked, and the man simply sighed. He put an exasperated hand towards his head, placing his thumb and index finger over his eyes as he gently rubbed them. "He looks like he has a lousy mouth, ignore everything he has to say, I'll deal with him later." The man said, and Satoru was brought away. He watched the hallways pass in front of his buzzing head as someone rudely pushed him forwards. Out of the warehouse, towards outside where the sun burned his eyes. Something about this world felt different. The cursed energy had changed, it had developed into something else, that much Satoru could tell. He wasn't sure what exactly it was. But he knew he wasn't in the time he used to know. He was pushed down into a police car, and in the rearview mirror he managed to catch a glimpse of himself.
The man was right, he looked much younger than 28, and Satoru had no idea why. It seemed that somehow the prison realm had made him younger, and somehow unsealed him in a different age. Satoru refused to think about what exactly that meant, because the thought of him surviving while everyone else didn't seemed to hurt him even more. He didn't know what had happened to them, and he doubted anyone else would know either. He'd rather imagine that his students had survived all of it, that they managed to live a long life for a sorcerer. But, as the car drove away and buildings passed by in a blur in front of his eyes, Satoru knew that he was only believing in lies.