Chapter Text
First Memory: The First Campfire
Geto had grown up a lonely child. Early on he knew there was something about him that wasn’t normal, that the other kids didn’t have. His mother always chided him about being too lost in his head, but no matter how hard Suguru tried closing his eyes, he could never stop seeing things.
In his backyard. At his school. On top of the lady who sold him sour candies at the convenience close to his house.
Sometimes he would stop in the middle of the streets and just shut his eyes hard, as hard as he could, tiny fists closed tight, and would wish for the monster to go away. But it never would.
Until one day, hiding in his school, counting down the minutes until the bell rang and he could go home, Geto saw another one of those monsters, it was small and green, with big eyes all over its body.
His eyes were wide open this time. He had lived most of his life hiding from them, lonely in knowing of their existence, hearing other kids and their parents point at him as they whispered about his mad stories.
“I’m not afraid of you,” Geto had said that day, voice shaky and hands trembling as he walked closer and closer to the green monster, “I’m bigger than you. I’m stronger than you. I’m not afraid.”
The ghastly thing crooned at him, the sound echoing in his head. Geto could feel something building in his veins, growing in his stomach and spreading all over him. There was no one around him. It was only him and his monster.
And Geto would win.
He brought his feet up high, “I’m not afraid anymore,” And he stepped on it. Hard.
It screeched. Loud and shrill.
He understood then, that it was dying. Geto was killing it. He was ending it’s life. But what life did it even have? It was a monster. A monster only he could see. What if it harmed him? His life was worth more. It had to.
It was then that he felt it for the first time. With his heart racing and sweat dripping down his neck, as he looked at the thing under his shoe, shaking and screaming, he felt the power flowing from all around his body and ending at his fingertips, and somehow he knew to point it down.
Geto watched as the monster unraveled, as his power, his hands, made his nightmare turn into a floating ball. He was panting, seconds felt like hours, and then, before he knew what was going on, Suguru brought the ball to his mouth and swallowed it.
Then he gagged.
Spitting bile at the ground, a taste he couldn't identify coating his tongue. It had been the worst thing he had ever tasted. But the monster was gone. He’d won.
From that day on, Geto was never scared of his living nightmares anymore. Whenever he was alone and he saw one of those ugly things, he would swallow them down, and the more he did, the easier it got.
Until the day he walked home to find a tall, burly man talking to his parents. He introduced himself as Yaga Masamichi, the headmaster of Jujutsu Tech, before going back to spouting about a special school for kids like him, filling their heads with hope for Geto’s future. About what it could mean for him, all expenses paid, cutting edge education… So many pretty words.
“You have to go, Suguru,” His mother said after the man had left, a hand resting on his shoulder, her sweet smell all around him, “There’s no life for you here. We’ve always known that.”
His eyes found his father’s stern ones on the other side of the room, “Your mother is right. We tried our best with you. This is your chance. You will take it.”
His had been a lonely childhood. Born with a curse he didn’t understand, in a place surrounded by people that didn’t understand him. But he never thought about saying goodbye to it. He closed his eyes tight one last time and hoped things would change.
But just like the monsters had never disappeared before, nothing changed.
The headmaster, Yaga-Sensei, came back the next day and told him things he hadn’t told his parents, and though Geto could barely understand what it all meant, all his memories were getting a new meaning. Curses, sorcerers, techniques, negative emotions…
A few weeks later he took a train to Tokyo and moved his things into his new home.
He was sitting on the floor unpacking his suitcase when his door suddenly burst open and a lanky, white haired boy leaned in, with a bright smile on his face and the bluest eyes Geto had ever seen.
“Heya! You’re my new neighbor,” The boy said, already walking in, eyes flying all around the room, feet bouncing from the door to where Geto was, “Oh, is that candy? I love candy.”
Geto had taken a second for his brain to start working again, jumping up and grabbing his bag of sour gummies from the rude boy who invaded his room. He should have never come to Tokyo.
With a glare, he crossed his arms over his chest and hid his gummies, “Who do you think you are? You can’t just barge into my room. Leave. Now.”
“But I was just welcoming you,” The boy frowned, “You don’t have to share the candy if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t want to,” Geto glowered, pointing at the door, “Leave.”
The intruder rolled his eyes, “Of course, Yaga, had to go and find the rudest boy possible to bring here. Shoko is going to fucking love you.”
Who did this white-haired giraffe think he was? Geto wanted to close his eyes and wish him away, but he had outgrown that. And he couldn’t simply step on him and swallow him down. So he sat down and went back to unpacking his things.
And eating his sour gummies. Slowly.
“Mean,” Gojo grumbled, looking longingly at the candy, walking over again, “Well, I’m Gojo Satoru. The only other first year is Shoko, and now you, of course,” he ranted, voice animated again, sitting down in front of Geto, who fought back his groan.
“Leave,” Geto tried again.
He failed again. Gojo straightened his long legs and whined, “But I’m bored. And the upper years never want to hang out.”
“I wonder why,” Geto mumbled, then he took a deep breath and looked at Gojo, “Look, I really need to unpack, and I would rather be alone right now. We’ll see each other in class.”
For a second he could swear he saw disappointment in those bright blue eyes, but it was quickly replaced with a smile, “Yeah, I get it.”
And just as suddenly as he showed up, Gojo was gone. And Geto finished packing alone, his bag of candy abandoned next to him. And while he did see Gojo in class the next day, the boy had ignored him, talking mostly with the only other person in their year, Ieiri Shoko, who smelled of cigarettes and sake, a smirk etched on her face.
As Geto settled into a routine in his new school and new life, he felt like he never left home, alone as he fought his monsters. No, curses. Except now the others around him could see the same things he did.
He trained, and he learned about the society he was thrown into. And he watched from the sidelines as Gojo dominated everything he could on the first try. He was strong. Geto could feel his power, even from away.
And Gojo was arrogant. He never shut up. Never respected his elders. He could never stay still for longer than ten seconds, legs bouncing up and down, fingers twitching and tapping. Gojo always wanted to be the one to do things, barely ever giving Geto a chance to try.
And so, Suguru never tried to talk to him, he worked alone and trained by himself, and whenever they were sent on missions together, he would go one side and Gojo another. They didn’t talk. They didn’t need to.
Except that Yaga-Sensei was an asshole.
“What,” Geto said, just as Gojo groaned dramatically, like everything else he did.
Their Sensei merely blinked and repeated his earlier words, “You two are being sent on another mission. There’s a mountain up north that is a breeding ground for curses, we often have to send teams of sorcerers to exorcize them. Lately, there’s less and less people to spare. So you’re going.”
“But we just came back from a mission,” Gojo complained, a petulant tone to his voice.
Yaga-Sensei nodded, “Yes. And now you’re leaving for another.”
“Alright, Sensei,” Geto agreed, jaw tight as he got up, ignoring Gojo’s eye roll.
Just as they were leaving the room, Yaga spoke again, “It’s starting to get cold, maybe you two could start a campfire while you’re there. Who knows how long it will take for the curses to show up?” And with that, he snapped his fingers and one of his cursed dolls jumped and closed the door on Gojo and Geto’s face.
They looked at each other for a second, brown eyes on blue ones, and without a word they turned and left. Two lonely boys walking in opposite directions.
The next morning they left the school and rode with one of the assistants until the edge of the mountain, silent apart from the pop music Gojo kept putting on the radio, his feet tapping on rhythm.
Geto was glad for Yaga’s advice on how cold it was. The wind was freezing as it hit against his skin, his nose and fingers hurting the longer they walked up, following a trail between the trees, listening and feeling all around them for curses.
Sometimes Surguru was sure he could feel them close by, watching them, but he could never see them, couldn’t reach them. So they kept walking. And walking. Geto would go between hiding his hands in his pockets and keeping them close to his mouth, blowing hot air into them.
Everytime he looked at Gojo, the other boy looked unfazed, eyes so bright against the darkening florest, posture relaxed and lips slightly pursed, whistling as they walked. Not uttering a single word, and still managing to get on Geto’s nerves.
“Oh, Geto, look,” Gojo shouted, pointing at a nice empty clearing in between the trees. The leaves had been trampled and traveled over, making the space look more level than anywhere else in the forest. And there was a log, its entire body still intact. It looked like a perfect place to sit, “We’re high enough that we can sit and wait now. And with so many trees around, the wind will be a bit less harsh there. Yeah?”
Except that Gojo wasn’t bothered by the wind. He probably didn’t even feel it, not if he had his Infinity up. Geto smiled at him and nodded, head down as he walked over, almost missing the big grin on Gojo’s face.
Before settling down by the log, they went around gathering kindling. Gojo came back with an arms full of twigs and branches, while Geto fixed it all on the ground in a little nest, and soon enough Suguru was letting out a relieved moan, the heat from the fire warming his skin, the tips of his fingers tingling.
And he could feel Gojo’s eyes on him. The expectant expression on his face, looking weirdly proud at himself. And for the first time since they met, Geto wasn’t annoyed at it. The flames cast flickering shadows over Gojo’s pale skin, the smell of smoke and pine around them.
“Good choice, Gojo,” He whispered over the crackling sound of the fire, “This is nice.”
The other boy’s eyes widened and he gave Geto a big smile, all teeth and gums, and he went to say something, but Geto saw the moment he gave up and merely nodded, his head falling back and turning up to the sky, eyes closed.
Geto had noticed how sensitive Gojo’s eyes seemed to be.
The minutes passed with them sitting side by side enjoying the warmth of the fire, the sounds of the night echoing past the trees, the distant cry of a bird and their loud breaths.
Geto reached into his pocket and grabbed a bag of his favorite sour gummies, immediately eating a handful of them, trying hard to ignore the other person sitting next to him. But then Geto thought of his childhood, being lonely even when surrounded by people, seeing things others couldn't.
He remembered Gojo walking into his dorm, excited at the idea of a new person to share all this with, Geto thought back to the upper years who never hung out with Gojo, about the society he was thrust into and that Gojo was born into.
Looking at the candy in his hand he made a choice, and placed the half-filled bag in the log between them, almost touching Gojo’s leg. He said nothing after it. And he felt Gojo’s hesitance, his wondering, but just as suddenly as he put the candy down, Gojo picked it up.
Geto didn’t say anything.
And Gojo didn’t thank him.
But they knew.
It wasn’t long after that when they both felt the hairs on the back of their necks rising up, and the clicking sounds of a curse nearby. Gojo was the first one to stand up, putting the bag of candy in his own pockets and shaking his long arm and legs.
Geto slowly got up and followed Gojo as they walked deeper into the woods, already missing the fire they were leaving behind. They followed the noises and the cursed energy until they found what they were looking for, the curse stood in front of them.
It was grotesque looking, a twisted mass of dark purple limbs and negative energy, towering over them with glowing red eyes and elongated arms that seemed to shift and writhe with every movement.
“Oh, it looks so ugly,” Gojo taunted with a smirk.
Geto shook his head, determined to go back to the dorms and burrow under the blankets, “Let’s make this quick, Gojo.”
The curse lunged at them with a roar, its claws swiping through the air with deadly precision. Gojo moved first, his movements quick. The curse's claws met the invisible barrier, stopping mere inches from Gojo’s face. For a second, Geto couldn’t breathe.
No matter how many times he saw it happen. His mind always wondered, what if it didn’t work?
But with a flick of his wrist, Gojo sent the curse flying back, crashing into a nearby outcropping of rock. Geto immediately followed that with a step forward and harnessed all the power in his stomach until it flowed out of his hands.
A few cursed spirits spilled out and bombarded the curse flailing on the floor, holding it in place, “Now, Gojo!”
The curse roared with fury, dispersing the smaller spirits with a violent thrash. Gojo took the opportunity, smirked at the curse and put his arm up ahead, fingers aimed at the curse and the Blue glowing bright as he sent it towards the spirit. It shrieked at the blow, thrashing on the floor.
"Your turn, Geto!" Gojo singsonged.
Geto outstretched his hand as he began to absorb the curse. Sweat dripped from his brow, going down his neck, his breath ragged and almost gasping. Harder. Go, Suguru. But the curse, sensing its doom, lashed out with a desperate, final attack. Dark limbs shot towards Gojo, who was too busy grinning at Geto to see it.
In that split second, Geto's eyes narrowed with resolve. "Gojo, move!"
Gojo looked confused, not moving an inch, and the attack hit his walls, not touching him at all. And Geto wanted to hit himself. Of course, Gojo was fine. The curse turned its attention fully on Gojo, screeching loud in anger, but Geto was there, stepping between Gojo and the curse.
The monstrous spirit screamed, its form beginning to unravel as Geto's power took hold. Slowly but surely, the curse was drawn into Geto's hand, its energy spiraling into a condensed, black sphere. With a final, guttural howl, the curse was absorbed entirely.
Turning his head away from Gojo, he swallowed it down, closing his eyes tight as the taste of death and vomit coated his tongue. He breathed out of his nose, the silence of the forest echoing in his ears.
“You okay?” Gojo asked softly, coming up behind him.
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
Geto nodded, “Yeah… yeah. We did good. Right?”
“Yeah, we did,” Gojo smiled, eyes soft under the night sky, shining bright and happy, “And hm, thanks, for the warning.”
With a scoff, Geto started walking back to the campfire. “It’s not like you needed it.”
“Still, it’s nice that you didn’t want me dead,” Gojo replied, long legs easily catching up to him.
“Of course, I didn’t.” Geto stopped, looking earnestly at Gojo. “Yaga-sensei will keep sending us on missions together, which makes us partners.”
Gojo stumbled and said nothing back, but Geto knew he understood. They reached the campfire once more to find the fire at its last embers, dying as they watched it, the smoke flowed high and the air still cold. No longer could they bask in the warmth of the fire.
“Well, time to go,” Gojo kicked some dirt into the fire, but as he started to leave the clearing, Geto went to grab his wrist, not touching him at all, but enough that it caught his attention, “What? Did you hear something?”
Geto shook his head, “You were born into this society. This is all you know.”
The sorcerer nodded, and waited for Geto to continue.
“Is this all our life is going to be? Is this all? Because before this, I had different ideas of what my future would be. I had other dreams. Other hopes. And they all seem silly now,” Geto couldn’t breathe. He wanted to close his eyes and wish it all away, to be back home, in the dark about all of it. “How can I think of going off to university and of traveling around, when I know what the things I’ve always seen mean now? How can I go on, knowing that if I don’t absorb them it means other people are in danger?”
Both boys looked deep into eachothers eyes – for hours, days, months, years – but what was really maybe a few seconds, and they knew. Knew. Knew. Knew. Except Geto didn’t know it at all. And Gojo had never asked himself any of that.
“This is it. All of it. This is Jujutsu Society. This is the weight of being born the way we were, with the powers we have. You can run away, but it will always be there, you will always see it. So stay.”
Gojo grabbed the candy Geto gave to him from his pocket and took a handful from it, handing the bag back to him, “I never really go for sour candy, I prefer sweeter stuff. And chocolate. And pastries. Oh, on the way back, we should stop to get dinner somewhere.”
Though the night was cold and the mountain unforgiving, around that clearing, with the smoke of a dying fire, there was a sense of timelessness and connection, as if the mountain itself recognized the endurance of those who dared to tread its paths.
And Geto smiled at Gojo, nodding along his ranting, mind wondering what would come next for them. He wasn’t so lonely anymore.
December 24th, 2011
Gojo used to go to this mountain all of the time. When he was a schoolboy learning how to fight curses with Yaga-sensei, with his classmates on missions, for self-instructed training with those same classmates. This was his first time coming back and this time he was alone. Alone. He would walk the path instead of teleporting, wanting to feel something, even if it was the ache in his legs. Pain was comfortable, it was what he knew.
Curses popped up there often—ones too powerful for most sorcerers to handle. It would make sense, that a tree-cloaked mountain would be the perfect harbor for cursed spirits.
But this time was different.
Because after Gojo did what he usually did, after he exorcized the curse and turned to go, he caught a scent on the wind that stopped him in his tracks. There was no comparison, but if Gojo had to choose one, he would say it smelled like the earth after rain. That rough, rich, familiar smell of the cursed energy of his best friend. His one and only. There wasn’t a question in his mind, he didn’t second-guess himself for even a moment.
Suguru, the reason Gojo hadn’t been there in four years. After Geto left, he’d worried about returning to this place that meant so much to them. He would never have asked Yaga-sensei to not send him there, but he didn’t have to. For the last four years, Yaga had kept him away from the mountain and Gojo hoped he knew how grateful he was.
Recently, curses were cropping up everywhere and in unmanageable numbers, and he knew eventually, he would have to return here. To their mountain.
Suguru had been there. Recently. Not just before Gojo, he would’ve noticed it sooner if that had been the case. Maybe the afternoon or night prior. He hadn’t just missed him, but it was close enough.
Satoru kept his memories of Geto Suguru in a box in his mind, untouched, unopened, and buried. Back when everything first happened, when Suguru first left, Satoru told himself it was okay to take time. He was too raw then, too vulnerable, he would take care of it when it felt more manageable. When the thought of rummaging through those memories didn’t make him sick. The box was a die, one he rolled over and over again in his head, waiting for something in the numbers to tell him to open it. The task never felt more manageable, and the numbers were all still just numbers.
It had been four years since he’d seen Suguru.
And he still knew his scent.
He should go home. He should keep walking down the mountain, return to Jujutsu Tech, and let it go.
But Satoru had always been comfortable with pain. So instead, he gathered kindling, created a nest of twigs and branches, and started a fire. He stood by the blaze, enjoying its warmth for a while before finally taking a seat on the nearby log.
And he opened the box.
Closing his eyes never shut everything out, but it shut out enough for him to picture the room he had felt more comfortable in than his own. He could picture Suguru sitting in the windowsill, staring out at the view of the sky. He could feel the give of Suguru’s bed as he perched himself at the end of it, eyes on him the whole time, waiting for his acknowledgement. He could feel Geto finally turn to him, brown eyes softening as they landed on Satoru.
With the smell of Suguru in the air, and his phantom eyes on Satoru, he almost fell asleep out there alone in the woods. Slowly, the smell of the smoke swallowed the smell of Suguru, and Satoru was left turning a memory over and over in his mind with no sense to accompany it.
Four years later and the memories still hurt, but the pain was different. It was pain that didn’t come with loss alone. Loss alone would not have trapped Gojo in his own mind on that log. It was love and loss. To have, and to hold, and to lose.