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@ itadakimasu
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In what is definitely Satoru Gojo's voice: "You've reached Suguru Geto! Leave a message!"
In what is definitely Satoru Gojo's voice: "You've reached Suguru Geto! Leave a message!"
action; a day after the binding vow
It's a necessary, if temporary, split, because although they are bound to work together, both of them need time to adjust to their new coexistence. Satoru leaves because he isn't quite ready for honesty in the form of old emotions mixed with new promises. He assumes Suguru leaves because he has had more than enough of his antics after going so long without.
And with the binding vow sworn, Satoru no longer needs to worry about Suguru's activities on the train.
Distance gives Satoru space to adjust the way his cursed energy feels now that it is mixed with Suguru's. It allows him time to pull down his blindfold and examine examine his energy closely. It looks the same as it always has, only now mixed with a subtle essence of someone else.
Of Suguru.
And Suguru's cursed energy is the similar: he carries with him traces of Satoru, the cost of binding himself to another person.
But the reason that Satoru set these terms becomes apparent once again, only a day after the made their vows. Satoru finds himself groggy and facing the threat of another headache, the stamina from his nap expended. He has no choice but to finally give in to a true sleep, one that will replenish his energy and put him back into top fighting shape. He could — and probably should — warn Suguru, but Satoru remembers where he felt the presence of Suguru's cursed energy in the nights before they made their vow. Instead of waiting for an invitation, he makes his way toward that area and follows Suguru's trail until he finds his camp.
It's cozy. Guarded by one of Suguru's less intimidating curses, a caterpillar-looking creature that seems to recognize Satoru upon approach, the campsite is small but capable of accommodating a couple of people. The treehouse — if it can even be called that, being that it's barely off the ground, the attached ladder only two rungs high — is a different story. It's less a house and more a small shack, and given that it has no door to shut, it doesn't look like it'll hold up in bad weather. It's cute but useless for anything other than sleeping. All it fits is one mattress and a couple of pillows, which Satoru immediately claims for himself.
Completely unconcerned by his presence — maybe even enjoying his company — Suguru's curse positions itself right outside treehouse. Out of curiosity, Satoru reaches his hand out of the door. The curse lobs itself into his palm with affectionate force. Amused, Satoru shifts over as much as he can and the curse does its best to nuzzle against him, though its head barely fits inside the shack. It doesn't seem to mind the discomfort of having most of its body hanging out of the shack and on the ground, so that is how Satoru falls asleep: taking up Suguru's entire bed and petting Suguru's curse.
He sleeps deeply for most of the day, finally able to relax now that he has a safe place to rest — and now that he knows Suguru will act in the event that Sukuna makes a move. He likely would sleep the night clean through, except at some point Suguru returns. The familiar presence of his cursed energy worms its way into Satoru's subconscious, causing him to stir and then, upon confirming Suguru is at the camp, awaken in full.
The curse doesn't seem interested in moving despite its master being home, so Satoru resumes petting it as he had been before he fell asleep.
Groggily, he says:]
Sprinkles was wondering when you'd be home.
[That's right: insult to injury, Satoru is not only taking up Suguru's entire treehouse, but he has also adopted the curse and given it a ridiculous sweets-inspired name. To which it now most definitely answers.]
no subject
and so suguru keeps himself busy, in his way, by collecting more seeds. observing more people. waiting for those moments wherein satoru slips close enough for suguru to sense that small part of himself, wrapped up in something almost as familiar. there are, without a doubt, far better ways for suguru to spend his time.
but if they're to work as a team, then it's important to keep loose track of one another—and so suguru knows when satoru finds his way back to camp. satoru's cursed energy, settling near the barely there blips that are suguru's curses, is as bright as a beacon; suguru tracks it for a time, seeing if satoru will move along or if satoru will stay.
satoru stays, of course. it makes sense. the last time they saw one another was after satoru ran himself ragged; satoru was in dire need of a solid night's sleep then and there—but as suguru finally summons his manta curse, settling atop its back, suguru feels selfishly grateful that satoru chose to wait. they'd both needed time.
and as suguru steps back into his camp, seeing half of his ridiculous curse hanging out of his shitty shelter, maybe it's that time that keeps this from being overwhelming? this being the sight that is satoru curled in his space, absently petting the curse that is, for whatever reason, soaking up the attention. it could be the trace of suguru's cursed energy that satoru now carries with him, marking him as someone familiar and safe; it could be the simple fact that, since the curse is a part of suguru, the curse has adopted some of suguru's weaknesses. mysterious—and not something suguru cares to think about as he steps closer, peering over its head to get a better view of the person patting it.
well.]
Isn't one bad name enough?
[which is, of course, satoru's username, hence the slight lift of a brow—sprinkles?—before suguru glances down at the cozy little thing. as snug as a bug in a rug...]
I see it's made itself comfortable.
[as has someone else, cramped as those quarters absolutely are.]
no subject
Suguru alive, whole, and inextricably entangled with him once more.
Satoru doesn't outwardly dwell, so while his mind may want to loop back to what this all means, he refuses to get wrapped back up in the thoughts he had the day prior. While Suguru is busy making commentary about Satoru by way of Sprinkles, Satoru makes himself more comfortable in his space, knowing full well that he will have to get up sooner rather than later. He stretches himself out, which amounts to his knees hitting the side of the shack and his feet hitting the end. It is cramped, but Satoru, for all that he is curled in on himself to fit, doesn't mind that much — yet. The past few hours were the best sleep he's had on his train. He'll save his complaining for when he's fully rested and sleeping in safety no longer feels like a rare gift.
In the meanwhile, he'll absolutely milk Suguru's space, and make a show of doing so, now that he has Suguru as his audience.]
Any name is better than no name at all.
[Isn't that right? Satoru murmurs as he scratches Sprinkles' head, absolutely milking this moment too.]
Besides, you're one to talk. [Satoru slaps his hands together.] Itadakimasu!
[Which makes him think of food, and thus he sits up a little — as best he can considering the tight space — to get a better look at Suguru:]
Speaking of, what'd you bring back to eat?
[This is Suguru's life now: Satoru lounging in his spaces and raiding his proverbial fridge.
Because it's easy to revert to his carefree self. It makes the burden of their history, the heavy feeling in his chest, the intertwining of their cursed energy — all of it that much easier to bear.]
I found another apple, but...
[He intentionally trails off, the fate of the apple clearly being not his stomach. Because how many apples can a guy eat before he gets sick of them and needs something better? Tastier? Sweeter?
The answer is one. One whole apple was enough.]
no subject
or: this curse enjoys attention every bit as much as the person currently doling it out. obnoxious! the both of them—and there is the sudden, stupid urge to stoop down, crossed arms resting atop this curse's head as he throws out some silly tease. it's what he would have done, once. it would have been so easy.
but the hollow ache beneath his ribs ensures that he remains upright, arms tucked within his wide sleeves as he barely, just barely, grimaces at the mention of his username. the powers that be possess an almost satoru-like sense of humor, it seems. terrible names for all—and yet it provides satoru with such an easy segue that suguru is, once again, grateful for something he shouldn't be. so he's responsible for dinner, is he...
...it wasn't a part of their agreement, but neither was this? satoru, crashing into suguru's space as though he owns half it. suguru has every right to point this out—and yet suguru merely studies satoru's face for a moment, frowning, lightly, as he wonders when satoru last ate anything of substance. a weakened partner is a hindrance, not an asset.
and yet.]
"But?" [oh, suguru knows what satoru is getting at? hence the faint trace of amusement in his voice—which sends him turning, ostensibly eyeing the ashes of the fire he'd built the night before.] You're too picky.
[which isn't the best, given that they're living the hunter/gatherer life in this car, but. satoru always was like this—and suguru, despite himself, feels himself slipping back into an all-too-familiar role. maybe he slipped into it a while ago, without even realizing it; maybe that's why he found himself gathering more than he needed earlier in the day.
maybe that's why he shouldn't think about it as he shifts back around, once again taking in the State of satoru. sprinkles and all.]
You won't like what I've found, [he says, annoyed (but unsurprised) by the fact that he remains somewhat amused? that his expression is softening, albeit just about the edges.] But you can't complain. Not until you've made yourself useful.
[build a fire, find more ingredients, help with, say, a certain survey—something! anything.]
no subject
None of that applies here. He can't teleport his way back to the dining car for instant sweets. He can't be picky about his accommodations since the Happy Home App doesn't take requests. He can't even find a decent set of casual clothes. When he attempted to use that app, it crashed and told him to try again later. And while Satoru is pretty good at going with the flow in general, he also tends to be spoiled, because the flow usually works around his whims.
This is part of the reason he's in Suguru's camp in the first place. Yes, he needed sleep, and yes, he and Suguru are now required to work together, but in addition to those necessities is the fact that Satoru prefers this misguided attempt at domesticity over trying to fend for himself. He may be good at everything he tries, but that doesn't mean he wants to try his hand at everything. Foraging, cooking, and doing his own laundry in a river somewhere all fall under the category of no thanks for someone who buys ¥250,000 shirts.]
Lemme guess. It's vegetables.
[Guess who's already complaining even though Suguru just barred him from it!
Satoru paps Sprinkles on the face one final time then murmurs that it's time to check the perimeter. Sprinkles obeys, backing away from the door and bounding toward the edge of camp. Satoru uses the new space to shift his way into the shack's door frame so that he can finally stretch his legs by half-hanging himself over the ladder. He blinks at Suguru, who seems especially bright with cursed energy now that Satoru is looking at him without a curse taking up most of the door — though maybe it's just that seeing his own energy mingled with Suguru's still requires some adjustment.
Satoru idly pats his pocket, looking for his blindfold.]
I'll earn my keep by fighting off that centaur that's been stalking your camp.
[He grins and points in a vague direction, referring to a lynel that's actually too far away to be a threat — and that Suguru would be able to handle himself without any problems. But hey! Fighting is better than lighting fires or playing camp for a meager meal of plants.]
Or...you can tell me what that survey said about you. [In fact, he holds out his hand for Suguru's phone.] Lemme see.
no subject
but these constant reminders of how things were—of what has changed and what has not—are, as suguru is finding, tricky to navigate? made all the trickier by the way sprin—the curse toddles away at satoru's command, the way satoru studies him with uncovered eyes. the familiar should be discomfiting, given all that's happened. it shouldn't be easy to slip back into anything.
except that it is. mostly. satoru, doing precisely what suguru told him not to do and pretending as though he's well enough to take on the world after a relatively short sleep—suguru remains amused despite himself, though satoru's antics feel both out of place and perfectly normal. confusing.
but while suguru was, in fact, curious enough to take that survey—and while he isn't the slightest bit surprised that satoru is being nosy about it—he does nothing aside from briefly glance down at satoru's outstretched hand.]
Why don't you share your results first?
[tit for tat, buddy! or: i'm not handing my phone over without some form of collateral, because i remember how these things used to go. another thing so familiar it's dangerous—which is why suguru finds himself offering satoru a small, placid smile, as though this back-and-forth is perfectly normal. it was, once.]
Otherwise—good luck with the centaur.
[he made this trap? he has no one to blame but himself.]
no subject
Long ago, before Satoru mastered his self-reverse, there were times when was vulnerable — after long and grueling missions, while sleeping, and while healing from injuries. And here he is again: having to regenerate his energy the old-fashioned way, still working on catching up from several days of avoiding that task, and feeling out of sorts as a result. He doesn't remember how to be weak, even as his body demands it from him, and so he's falling back on old habits by default — seeking out Suguru when he isn't feeling his best because Suguru was always safe. He was one of the strongest, and therefore capable of picking up whatever Satoru had to put down for a time. Suguru may not be an entirely willing partner in their binding vow, but he's Satoru's partner nonetheless, and Satoru therefore derive a strange solace from all of this, even if it's marred by promises sworn in cursed energy and the threat of what lies at the end of their vows.
He's made promises too, and he hasn't forgotten those — his cursed energy wouldn't allow him to forget, if he tried. So whereas he might continue to bluster or even profess that he could definitely take on a lynel without issue right now (true, in the sense that he could take it on, but not entirely true, in that it would cost him), he remembers: honesty.
He withdraws his hand, then goes back to digging into his pockets, though he forgoes the blindfold for now, choosing to rub his eye with his free hand while searching for his phone.]
Nah, I'll spare the centaur for now.
[Maybe not the most honest, but honest enough: Suguru will know why; Satoru doesn't have to make a show of dragging out his every vulnerability into the open.
Honesty, and this whole new exchange of information and working together, is why he decides to give up his survey result without too much fuss. A show of good faith! But also:]
My result's boring, anyway. 'Say yes to something you would normally say no to,' or something like that. I'll say yes to whatever you make for dinner and that should do it.
[Not that he's particularly concerned by the survey result in general. Bigger fish to fry. Bigger concerns around them. Besides, Satoru has a tendency to ace challenges without exactly trying, and has no reason to think this will pan out differently.
He pulls out his phone, finds the survey result, and holds it up with raised eyebrows and very innocent blue eyes: Look how good I'm being, his expression says as he extends his hand for Suguru's phone again.]
Gimme.
no subject
and if suguru wanted to be petty—if suguru wanted to be cruel—he could certainly draw this out, possibly driving satoru from his camp in the process. it wouldn't be difficult—but suguru remembers all the times satoru found him on school grounds, seeking distractions from his discomfort. what must it be like, he'd wondered, to see everything, even when you didn't want to?
(maybe he understands this a bit better, these days. as he stands before satoru a full decade later, spotting the same signs he used to search for—maybe he does.)
but satoru pulls out his phone, telling suguru his results before actually showing them—and suguru could be a stickler about this, too. as silly as this survey is, satoru showing suguru his screen is not the same as suguru handing his phone over; once upon a time, allowing satoru unsupervised access for longer than, like, two minutes was just begging satoru to change his background, or his ringtone, or his passwords, or everything above.
...more memories. it isn't like they matter here, really; suguru's phone remains factory fresh, which is why he finally pulls his hands from his sleeves, shaking his head in the process.]
You're still too rude, [he says, the lightest chastisement.] You could say "please."
[and yet here suguru goes, reaching into his robes to pull out the phone he's kept out of his storage curse™ since their little arrangement began. for coordination, he'd thought at the time. wishful thinking. he should have known that satoru would simply show up.
but, that aside: here one one (1) phone, which suguru helpfully unlocks before placing smackdab in the middle of satoru's upturned palm.]
And you could pretend to be grateful for dinner.
[he's just sayin'. anyway, while satoru ponders (re: ignores) suguru's sage advice, he's free to find the survy results that suguru doesn't seem particularly bothered by? probably because he's decided not to do what he's told.]
no subject
But! First he has to earn his keep (and his right to complain) so he holds back and instead focuses on the survey directive — which is a little bit more interesting than his. And also more amusing, so he exhales a light laugh as he hops down from the shack.]
This is easy. We can get it out of the way right now.
[Easy, because they just did it for the binding vow, so why not just do it again to get this directive completed? Now that they are bound by their promises, it isn't a huge deal for Satoru to let Suguru into his Infinity; and even when Suguru had him vulnerable before, he chose not to act on it. So there shouldn't be any concern — this act should be simple, barely worth considering.
Except, as Satoru temporarily pockets Suguru's phone to playfully tilt his head and wiggle his fingers at Suguru as an invitation, suddenly it feels too much — too far. Whereas last time, Satoru worked on impulse and let down his Infinity on a whim, now he has the burden of forethought and memory. He thinks of holding Suguru's hand yesterday — remembers the warmth of his grip, the way Suguru's forehead felt against his, the sound of his voice as he said I swear — and contrasts it with a time when Suguru was cold, still, and silent. A time when that very hand he held was missing — and Satoru, lifting Suguru's body from the equally cold ground, grieved.
It's too late now, though — Satoru's hand is already reaching out, and he does have to make an effort to help with some of these train objectives, since he's been half-assing it at best until now — and so he remains committed, tease on his lips, hand poised to tempt.]
Let's hold hands.
what is with that terrifyingly serious icon
but satoru is right; holding hands is easy. in theory. a few seconds of contact is an easy enough thing to manage, especially given that satoru is, quite honestly, the one person on this train suguru would willingly touch—and yet there is a reason suguru didn't think to ask satoru for his help. many reasons, actually, ranging from long-ago memories to a far more recent one.
(and what if satoru is offering to clear suguru's directive simply to clear his own? say yes to something you would normally say no to. the binding vow was necessary; this, however, is not, and once again suguru thinks that it would be better to simply ignore this survey altogether. satoru doesn't need to voice every vulnerability; suguru doesn't need to acknowledge every reminder of what was versus what is.)
here, however, is the truth: suguru can deal with this now, or suguru can hear about it for the remainder of the evening. he highly doubts that satoru will simply let this go—hence his sigh, mild exasperation masking much more complicated emotions.]
What did I just say?
[something, something, manners. an important word, which is the least satoru could offer—even if this isn't, you know. his task to complete. it's the principle of the matter, and thus, while suguru doesn't tuck his right hand back into his opposite sleeve, suguru doesn't hold it out for satoru to take. not yet.]
You're assuming that I care about the prize.
[which he doesn't, honestly, aside from slight curiosity as to what the clownductor has in store. something new to dangle over their heads, he's sure, because giving someone something only to snatch it away at some point in the future—a classic trick.
(and above that—well. suguru's taste in both games and prizes is questionable, as he's proven many a time.)]
it was either that or wide-eyed and crazy...i'm out of eyecons
[Technically the truth! Although Satoru knows that's not what Suguru meant; he's aware that this is yet another chide about politeness. Which, just as Suguru will have to get used to Satoru showing up at his camp and naming his curse(s), Satoru will have to get used to this all over again: being told to watch his manners, something that he actually does make a point of doing from time to time, ever since Suguru's last piece of advice on the matter. But that isn't an argument he feels like making, considering what that says about him in the wake of Suguru's parting.
This is the second time that Satoru's extended hand has been rejected by Suguru, but this time, Satoru doesn't kowtow as he had earlier in an effort to make him give in. He gives Suguru a long look, thinking about those words, You're assuming that I care about the prize, and decides that it's time for his blindfold after all. He stops wiggling his fingers and finally retrieves it from his pocket to put it on and face Suguru again. Even through the fabric, Satoru sees their combined cursed emanating from Suguru — an ever-present reminder of what they did, and what this is between them.]
When'd you get so boring?
[Suguru turned him down before, when Satoru was attempting to bridge the gap between them with another stupid game conducted over text messages. Satoru is with him in theory — he isn't interested in being the conductor's pawn here, just as he isn't interested in being used by the higher-ups back home. But this is more than a stupid survey — this is Satoru making an effort, in his own obnoxious way, to work with Suguru the way he's requested Suguru to work with him. It's a silly directive for what will surely be a stupid prize, but silly games and stupid prizes were always theirs.
(But the question is rhetorical, nonetheless: Satoru knows the when behind Suguru's change of heart. It wasn't when he left; it wasn't while he was gone. It was after Suguru's point of no return, when Satoru what was supposed to be a final decision.)
There's another way that Satoru could make himself useful while still ensuring that Suguru fulfills his directive: he could find him someone else to hold his hand. Undoubtedly, Suguru won't want to touch the hand of a non-sorcerer, but Satoru has met a couple of people with abilities that aren't so far off from cursed energy. He could make a suggestion, a phone call, and exchange one favor for another to bring someone with their hand out for Suguru to hold. Networking! Something that, for all that Satoru is a menace to train society, he's actually not half-bad at. But that's an unfair burden to anyone he were to pull in to this scenario; Suguru may be bound now, but he won't be bound forever, and there's no telling what the future holds.
And Suguru is Satoru's now: his responsibility and his burden, his past and his future, and his enemy and his best friend, all wrapped up into one. If Suguru is going to hold anyone's hand, it's his, and his alone.
So, after only a minute pause, he extends his hand again, wiggling his fingers once more, but this time he encroaches on Suguru's space.]
Aren't you a little curious?
[About the prize! About his hand! About how peaceful the evening could be, if he gives in now rather that later...]
eyecons... stop 😔 time to go make more
that is what this feels like, as satoru slips his blindfold back over his eyes: like satoru is picking at some scabbed-over wound, refusing to simply let it be.
and maybe it's even fair, given how long this particular wound has been allowed to fester, but it feels fresh to suguru. none of this is easy—except, of course, the things that should be difficult, such as finding satoru's antics amusing. recognizing satoru's subtle tells. allowing satoru into his space, close enough for their breath to mingle, and let it be known that suguru is still processing that. the shock that was warm skin beneath his fingertips continues to haunt him, a siren song; a warning bell.
but if satoru recognizes that this—all of this—is difficult for suguru, he's yet to show it. or—well, that isn't entirely true. suguru recognizes that satoru is being patient, in his way? that satoru is falling back on their old dynamic for his own reasons, and yet things are different. things have changed. so much remains unaddressed; even with the binding vow bringing them together, there remains a vast amount of space between them. how do they even begin to bridge it...
(should they?)
suguru feels tired, suddenly. sore. it hasn't even been a full day since suguru allowed satoru to come far too close—and here is satoru hoping for a repeat performance, offering his hand as obnoxiously as possible. aren't you a little curious? no, suguru thinks. not really. what matters—what should matter—is reaching their destination as swiftly as possible; there's no need to stop for breaks along the way.
(playing these stupid games will only hurt them, in the end. both of them. their own games are risky enough, and this isn't even one of them.)
and yet.]
I don't know why you are.
[if satoru is going to make a point of this, then it's better to simply get it over with—which is why satoru, against his better judgment, reaches out, fingers catching satoru's.]
no subject
He's a different person — one who is mindful of the students he teaches, even when he's forgoing typical teaching methods to impart lessons. He's cognizant of the issues in jujutsu society, and he understands the importance of having strong allies stand beside him, rather than behind him. Satoru truly strives for change — and does his best to ensure that his students will be strong enough to seize it when the time comes.
He is no longer blind to what is in front of him.
But Satoru doesn't always want to see what he has no choice to observe, and there are still ways in which he remains flawed. This is a case in point: still tired, still vulnerable, still observing the way their cursed energy intertwines, Satoru strives for forward momentum and distraction, making gestures that are more annoyances, backsliding because it's easier.
Satoru doesn't regret much in his life, but when he thinks about regret, it always takes the shape of Suguru: Suguru walking away. Suguru's body without Suguru inside.
As Suguru's fingers finally reach for him, finally make contact, Satoru thinks that this, too, feels something like regret: wistful, nostalgic, and too dangerous to indulge. His Infinity allows Suguru in without any fanfare, and that also feels too much like before to settle quietly in the now.
But Satoru has egged this on, and so he doubles down in his commitment. He takes Suguru's hand entirely in his, linking their fingers together, and thinks about how warm and alive Suguru's hand feels — how whole Suguru is, missing nothing at all. He thinks about all the things his hand has done, and all the things it could do, and despite the burden of history and the unknown days to come, how perfectly it still fits in his own.
This was supposed to be the easiest of all the possible ways that Suguru could earn his keep — a simple gesture, to indicate his willingness to make an effort. It wasn't supposed to cost him anything.
But when he has to suppress the urge to tighten his grip to keep Suguru from pulling away — to force himself to remain jovial when he realizes that this is, somehow, even more difficult than yesterday — Satoru thinks that this might have been the most costly of all options.
See? he might say. This isn't so bad, is it?
But that's a lie, and Satoru has promised to be honest.
So instead he asks:]
Think that's long enough?
[And, with a mixture of reluctance and regret, begins to let go.]
no subject
satoru simply allows suguru in.
except there's nothing simple about this, because far be it from satoru to practice restraint; he takes what is offered and, unsurprisingly, demands more, fitting his fingers between suguru's as though they belong there. satoru, continuing to pick, and to pick, and to pick. suguru wonders if he's even aware of it? wonders what he's after if he is. surely there is some reason for this, beyond satoru's exhaustion, satoru's bad habits...
...and there is. of course there is. this is satoru slipping back into what was, every bit as easily as suguru—and as suguru shifts his focus to satoru's half-hidden face, suguru suspects that he, too, realizes the cost of such a thing. nothing is as it was; nothing can be as it was, which is why it's little wonder satoru loosens his hold, obviously preparing to pull away.
before suguru can think better of it, he finds himself folding his fingers, tightly, over the back of satoru's hand. locking it in place; refusing to allow satoru to escape the fact that everything is too much, too soon, though suguru's expression remains calm. he isn't thinking about the hand he's continuing to hold. he can't. it's too familiar a feeling, too comfortable when it should be anything but.]
Do you?
[a question for a question, because is this long enough? both to complete suguru's directive, and to satisfy satoru's curiosity.]
no subject
When faced with uncomfortable or heavy situations, Satoru relies on his antics to carry himself — and those around him — back to a state of normalcy. But there was a time when he showed Suguru his true self: when he admitted to feeling nothing, in the aftermath of trauma; when he admitted to being tired, after overexerting himself; when he was the one clutching Suguru's hand tightly, preventing him from leaving so he wouldn't be alone.
This is an inverse of what once was, twisted to make a point, and Satoru knows that it's his own fault — for swooping into Suguru's camp as though the binding vow isn't still fresh and painful for them both, and for grasping Suguru's hand as though he hadn't once taken his life. But this is only the beginning; they'll have to work together on this train, through a variety of objectives. Suguru will have to accept him in his camp so he can rest safely. And Satoru has two choices: either be unrelentingly himself, or dwell in how difficult it feels to look upon Suguru as an unwilling ally — and an enemy waiting to strike at the end.
And what can Satoru do here, other than smile and tighten his grip once again, embracing the prolonged hold as if it doesn't go right for his chest, a blow that reaches its mark. He takes everything in stride, even when he doesn't want to, and Suguru can't be the exception he once was.]
Yeah, I think this should do it. [There was no time limit on the directive, and his curiosity has been more than satisfied; in fact, his interest in the survey's prize is gone.] But we can wait a minute more to be sure.
[He looks away from their hands — and away from Suguru — and offers a shred of honesty, in accordance of their agreement.]
One night'll be enough.
[Enough to get him back on his feet, in fighting shape, recovered for at least a few days of the distance that Suguru has demonstrated they need. Satoru will eat his dinner, sleep in his bed, and then go off until he needs to recharge again. His statement is meant to communicate that: he may be milking this now, tackling it as he does all things, invading Suguru's peace and pretending that everything is fine, but it is out of necessity, a way of coping with a situation that is difficult for them both. And he won't prolong it for either of them.
A light squeeze of Suguru's hand then — which could be read as a tease, or a means of pushing boundaries even further, but it is meant as another form of honesty: an acknowledgement. An apology. A way of saying: I get it.
Then he severs their hands with his Infinity — and lets Suguru go.]
text; un: ⬆️⬆️⬇️⬇️⬅️➡️⬅️➡️🅱️🅰️▶️
Anyway, assume this happens sometime after the current text thread wherein Suguru learns about The Furby but before other drama...I just want to start filling this inbox up with nonsense, as is Satoru's Way.]
suguru!!!
sprinkles found a FIERCE BEAST wandering around your place
it's about to go down!
[The attached is not, in fact, a video of a fierce beast, nor is anyone getting ready to fight. It's a video of Sprinkles walking up to Whipped Cream the Furby and trying to decide if it is Friend or Foe. After a moment, it seems to decide on friend and nuzzles against it. It's actually pretty cute! It's also clear that despite the Serious Situation of this train car, Satoru is finding time for nonsense, as usual.]
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...and it is cute. like, objectively. this is the sort of thing the girls might send him, albeit without the curse—and for a brief moment, he does, in fact, feel a pang of something akin to homesickness. what are the girls up to at this precise moment? he can't help but to wonder.
but—sprinkles. whipped cream. the here and the now. okay.]
For a fierce beast, it isn't putting up much of a fight.
[a pause, and then, almost as an afterthought:]
Don't let the curse eat it.
[that has to be bad for the curse, whose name rhymes with wrinkles.]
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sprinkles might
you better hurry home and check
[Except don't, because Satoru sends a picture of Whipped Cream draped around Sprinkles' neck, the two of them clearly now good friends. Which means Suguru will have (2) against (1) when he inevitably grows annoyed with the furby and wants to get rid of it. Was this part of Satoru's plan for keeping the furby safe and sound at Suguru's camp? Maybe!]
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It looks like you have things under control.
[so don't let him down!]
Take it with you when you leave.
[or: suguru is definitely returning later in the evening to find the furby still wrapped around the curse without a name.]
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i already left
[Sorry, he can't bring the furby with him! He's long gone!]
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text; un: ⬆️⬆️⬇️⬇️⬅️➡️⬅️➡️🅱️🅰️▶️
He told Suguru before: his students are off-limits. That includes anything the ring may reveal in regard to them. That includes seemingly harmless discussions about polite behavior.]
back off suguru
[Let kids be kids, but even more than that: take this explicit hint before things get a whole lot more complicated very quickly.]
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...but. risking their partnership at this stage of the game is reckless, indeed; suguru knows that he can only take this so far, so.]
It never hurts to be polite.
[take that as you will, satoru. apply it to whatever you wish.]
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He says nothing, and he doesn't put the ring back on.
He merely pockets his phone and focuses on getting to Nobara.]
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@🔨
You could've just told me who you were talking about, you weird cryptic top knot.
[ The other details about 'murder' and 'leading a cult' are also concerning but ... it probably isn't too uncommon to have killed someone as a sorcerer. Nobara herself has killed a curse-human hybrid. ]
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I don't think he would have liked that.
But hello to you, too.
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No hellos u_u ] Sensei's pretty cagey about himself in general.
But I'm pretty sure he went to Tokyo High. So, what, are you alumni?
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Not exactly. I left before graduation, but we were classmates for a time.
[sometimes you have to leave polite society to commit murder on main! real hot girl shit 💁♀️ but he's treading on dangerous ground here; once this gets back to satoru, suguru is in for it, and yet:]
He hasn't told you about his school days?
text; un: you know; sometime after ~tension~ due to nobara's arrival
What he does not expect, when he walks up to the large building, is for a woman to run out, address him by name, and tell him she's been waiting for him. Satoru isn't caught off guard by much, but the way she throws her arms around him and embraces his Infinity with relieved awe manages to be an exception. He gapes as she leads him inside and talks about how her son is ready for tea — and how delighted she is that Satoru is already dressed for the occasion. Truly, he is a catch! Her son will fall for him instantly, she's sure of it.
Satoru doesn't protest at first. He's here for a reason and this is getting him access to the mansion, so why complain? But then her son emerges from a room and she says something that ends with married by the end of the day — and Satoru has to bite his tongue from asking who told this lady that he'd make an ideal husband.
Satoru isn't easily ruffled. But when he makes an excuse as to why he can't stay for long (let alone marry her son), she only doubles down. And when Satoru makes a couple of teasing, obnoxious comments, her son laughs instead of getting annoyed, which means that his mother sinks her claws in deeper. Figuratively, but judging by the way she grabs Satoru's Infinity along his wrist, almost literally as well. It becomes clear: Satoru has to get out of this mess before she calls someone over to marry him off to her son right now — but he also wants those supplies. And he doesn't want to hurt a woman just because she's desperate, even if that would get him the supplies a lot faster.
So as the woman walks him to a room and her son looms behind them, Satoru slips the ring that bonds him to Suguru on his wedding finger. The link between them goes from silent to suddenly activated, revealing Satoru to be harboring a mixture of unusual emotions: annoyance, discomfort, a subdued amusement that's fading into irritation. And as he glances at the decorated halls, he also pulls out his phone to text Suguru.]
how fast can you get to the mansion
[Things are tense between them, and Satoru had intended to keep Suguru shut out for a little longer, at least until Nobara was truly acclimated (and well), but they're partners, united by their binding vow. They're in this together, regardless of how rocky things become between them, and Suguru is therefore the person he should call to help him with a mission, no matter how ridiculous it may be. And most important of all, Satoru needs to produce a spouse. So! After sending this message and trusting that Suguru will come despite their last text message exchange, he pockets his phone, shows off his ring, and tells the Madam that he's already married — and his husband is on his way to join them for tea.
The Madam leads them to a table and Satoru drapes himself over a chair. While the tea is prepared, he waits.]
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Not a word. But he doesn't tell us anything about himself.
[ Geto probably left school to run his cult? Maybe murder? She'll ask about that later because i dont like having two convos going on at once in a thread ok ]
What was he like in school?
tension... whatever do you mean...
and yet, as suguru speaks with a nurse at the clinic, there it is: the mildly uncomfortable sensation that is someone else's emotions—satoru's emotions—brushing alongside his own. like fingers, just barely catching; something that would be easy enough to ignore, if suguru wished to return to the conversation he finds himself so rudely holding up. learning more about the patients—and, of course, the white-haired scoundrel making an apparent game of breaking into and out of the clinic—could prove useful.
but his phone buzzes; satoru's discomfort grows, and suguru finds himself excusing himself to peek at his phone. how fast can he come to the mansion? well. the answer is very—and yet suguru hesitates all the same, unable to determine which should trouble him more: the fact that he never removed his ring, or the fact that satoru slipped his back onto his finger right before calling in a favor.
...in the end, it doesn't matter; suguru slips his phone back into the (convenient) pocket of his cassock, offering polite parting words before heading straight for the mansion. he's heard all manner of rumors regarding the place, many of them centering on its eccentric owner; he isn't quite sure what to expect, but the plan is to text satoru when he arrives, pinpoint where satoru is.
but there is someone waiting for him when he arrives? a servant, who, while plucking his cloak from his arms, informs him that their mistress is so looking forward to meeting mr. gojo's husband—and it's a near thing, the way suguru prevents his smile from slipping. a very near thing. satoru is sure to feel that sudden stab of surprise.
suguru, however, knows how to play this game, and thus suguru remains outwardly calm, following the servant through the hallway (while swiftly slipping his ring to the appropriate finger). oh, yes! his husband. isn't he charming.
and less than a minute later, suguru finds himself face-to-face with his oh-so charming husband, settling into a seat as the servant informs them that their mistress and young master will be joining them shortly. suguru thanks them, of course. waits until they've slipped out of the room before he shifts his attention back to satoru, his smile turning brittle as he does his best to ignore his mess of emotions: amusement, annoyance, the smallest smidge of relief. days of silence for this...]
Having fun?
[a deceptively calm way to ask: what is going on? all as his eyes briefly fall to the hair tie, still sitting snug around satoru's wrist.]
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Do you want to guess?
[it's fun!]
nothing at all...they're a happily married couple
Satoru can't get distracted by Suguru's humanity — by his emotions — when he needs to focus on keeping him contained and Nobara safe.
But the ring has its uses: Suguru's cursed energy alerts Satoru of his arrival, but it's his surprise that tells Suguru he's learned the purpose of his visit to the mansion. The ring cues him in on the fact that Suguru is a mixture of annoyed and amused — and something else.
Satoru tries to push that something else from his mind, staving it away to prepare for their pretense. He asked Suguru here for a reason; he has a goal. This is not about inviting his feelings back into the forefront of his mind.
Though many of the passengers on this train may not guess it given his obnoxious behavior, Satoru is actually well-versed in stuffy meetings requiring a degree of decent etiquette. He prefers to forgo decorum in favor of sticking it to the higher-ups who normally require meetings like this — with formality and polite words framing every interaction — but he is capable of maintaining his manners when necessary, thanks to his upbringing in one of the three prominent sorcerer clans. So when he senses Suguru's energy approaching, Satoru actually sits up a little straighter. He adopts an air that is more polite than his typical demeanor, albeit still fairly lacking, and smiles with the adoration of man prepared to greet his spouse —
And then it's time for him to experience a surprise of his own as he sees exactly what Suguru is wearing. That is swiftly followed by unbridled mirth, which overtakes any hope of propriety. It's a good thing their hosts haven't joined them yet, because as the servant turns away and Suguru asks his question, Satoru erupts into laughter.
Thankfully, the servant politely refrains from gawking and instead clears the room, giving him and Suguru a few minutes to themselves before their hosts make their appearance. Once they're alone, Satoru says:]
You decided to change your costume.
[And laughs again. Which is to say, yes, now he's having fun, given that his husband happens to be a priest and Suguru seems to be running with a theme — but that doesn't answer the real question. And the ridiculousness of the situation doesn't stop Satoru from noticing some finer details: Suguru moved his ring to support this pretense; Suguru is still in sync with Satoru, no matter how much tension currently exists between them; Suguru has not found a replacement for his hair tie; Suguru's smile changes when he looks at Satoru, in a way that elicits an echo of that ache in his chest.
And more than all those: yet again, Satoru's trust in Suguru, however minimal, has been upheld.
Satoru rests his elbow on the table, all hope of manners now fully lost.]
Wait until Madam Vermeer sees you.
[It's probably a good thing she didn't see Suguru first because though he may be a priest now, he would have been an ever better catch for her son before his wardrobe change. And Suguru might not have claimed to be married to get out of the situation — which means Satoru would have missed out on this.
(And that would have been better, he knows, than this spur of the moment plan, if only because it would have spared him the knowledge that Suguru kept his ring on for all of this time — as though he were waiting. And it would have been easier to keep it off — to remove it again, after this is done.
Blankets. Water. Supplies. And the other, more subtle motivation beneath it all: Satoru has been alone these last few days. Surrounded by people, with a student in his charge, but alone.
But here, under the scrutiny of Suguru's gaze, he is seen.)]
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for one.
and while suguru understands why—because he does, of course he does—the underlying resentment remains. suguru is a convenience—until he isn't. satoru is free to pick, to choose, to work with suguru or to ignore him entirely, but suguru is expected to be there each and every time satoru decides that he is needed.
but what is there to do now, aside from maintain the illusion of politeness? to spread his hands above his half of the carefully set table, both to display his ridiculous outfit and to make a (silent) point: what did you expect? you dug this hole yourself.]
If only I'd known I was married.
[not that it would have helped with the app, but. he could have dressed up—or come up with far more sensible a plan than this, once again proving convenient, when convenient. it isn't so much a bitter pill as it is an unpleasantly large one? something lodged in his throat as he experiences every unwelcome emotion.]
Work does keep us apart, [he says, smoothly, as he keeps his hands in his lap, every bit as polite as satoru is rude.] I hear you've been very busy. Breaking and entering?
[those nurses, always gossiping—and while suguru has yet to take so much as a single step into the clinic, knowing that is a line that should not be crossed, he can sense the cursed energy within. again: there's little that is truly private on this train.]
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His intention hadn't been to upset Suguru, even if it is an understandable byproduct. Rather, what better way to reinstate contact than with something stupid — removed from recent developments — and a third party who could keep things civil? Keep things fun. And while Satoru may have been able to call in favors from others, there's only one person who knows him well enough to truly sell this act.
But Satoru doesn't slide out of his own amusement as Suguru's recedes. He rests his cheek in his hand, maintaining his slouch over the table, and watches as Suguru upholds his polite posture, the two of them the very picture of contrast. In his mind, this is an olive branch of sorts, however ridiculous it may look. This is reestablishing a working partnership despite the fact that he has every reason to keep Suguru shut out.
Or at least that's how it could have gone, had Suguru chosen to begin this conversation with anything other than a sly mention of the clinic. There's only one place Satoru has broken into — and that means that Suguru is keeping tabs on him, and in effect, Nobara as well.
It was only a matter of time before Suguru sensed her cursed energy. There is no hiding on this train, not truly, and so Suguru cannot be faulted for knowing. But bringing it up — dangling it in front of him — reminds Satoru of the two of them sitting side by side in the museum, Suguru holding out an object that Satoru couldn't see.
This is Suguru saying, I know.
Nothing happens outwardly. Satoru remains smiling, his body language stays relaxed, and he replies in an easy tone, as though unaffected. Inwardly, however, he ends up on guard; as a flash of concern for Nobara begins to take precedent in his mind, he attempts to relax, to avoid thinking of her, to focus only on Suguru and what is looking to be a more strained teatime than originally planned.]
You've been asking around?
[Despite his best efforts, Satoru feels tense, something he knows he can't hide from Suguru while he wears the ring, and likely would not have been able to conceal from him without it. There are many reasons for Satoru to continue to look at Suguru as a threat — as an enemy — and there are equally as many reasons for him to remember the person he was and still could be. But there is only one person on this train that threatens to truly upset the balance.]
You must've missed me.
[He's careful to pay close attention for the approach of their hosts; waits for an indication that they're near.]
But maybe I should've been keeping a better eye on you, as your husband.
[As his enemy. As his friend. As the person who is supposed to be ensuring that Suguru does not make the same mistakes as he did in his past life. Bound as they are, for better or for worse.]
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...it isn't that suguru doesn't understand the desire to protect. were the girls to appear on this train, they would become suguru's priority; he would place himself between them and satoru, would take whatever steps he deemed necessary—but attempting to hide them? asinine. it would only serve to weaken the very partnership that could protect them.
but maybe suguru is the only one to concern himself with such things. maybe this is what makes suguru inconvenient.
and thus it is satisfying, on some level, to both see and feel the way satoru pulls taut. it shouldn't be; suguru is too sensible for such childishness, and yet his smile solidifies even as he hears the telltale sound of footsteps nearing the far door. satoru's student tips the scales in an interesting way? leaves satoru with far more at stake, were this partnership to fall apart and sukuna to decide to strike. suguru does not wish for a such a thing; his single stipulation is, as always, at the front of his mind, but therein lies the problem: suguru has always stood to lose more.
now they're standing on more equal footing, but satoru continues to act as though he has the high ground.]
Maybe I should have been keeping a better eye on you, [is suguru's almost playful response. his tone is light—but there is pointed undercurrent, of sorts, that grows more pronounced as he adds:] I remember our vow.
[vow. nothing any potential eavesdroppers will find strange, given their, ah, marital status—and certainly nothing madam vermeer is likely to overhear as she sweeps into the room, her son right on her heels. unpleasant company, so far as suguru is concerned; they remind him of those monkeys with far more money than sense, but this, too, is a game that suguru is all too familiar with. it's why he pushes his seat far enough back from the table to stand, straightening his attire while cutting satoru a look from the corner of his eye.]
Are you going to introduce me, dear?
[petnames were never them—which is, of course, precisely why suguru chooses to use one here and now. only satoru will recognize this for what it is, but he can hardly complain; he was the one to choose this game.]
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Satoru masters the art of pretending to be married as quickly as he masters most things. On the surface, he's the very picture of a somewhat polite man — not entirely, as the Madam and her son were charmed by his teasingly impolite comments earlier, but enough to indicate that he was taught manners somewhere along the way — rising only a beat after Suguru.]
My husband, Reverend Father Geto. Suguru, [Satoru addresses him by his name instead of adopting Suguru's new and, admittedly, provoking style of using petnames] this is Madam Vermeer and her son.
[Satoru has already gone through all of this — the embraces, and then later, the more formal bows that became handshakes, so as soon as he's spoken this introduction, he takes his seat again — last to stand, first to sit, stretching the limits of manners. This, at least, allows him to watch the servants who enter the room with tea, cups, and sugar, Satoru notes with relief; it gives him a brief break from remembering the smile on Suguru's face as he made that comment about their vow.
Because the fact is: Satoru masters just about everything he tries, but that isn't to say he does so effortlessly. To the those who don't know him — everyone on this train, save for one person — he may appear to pick up skills with ease, but that isn't the truth of it. Satoru has worked hard on many of his abilities, and not all lessons are easy to digest and adopt, even if he manages to come out on top every time. This situation is a perfect example of something that may, on the surface, look perfectly natural to the Madam and her son, but it steeped in effort beneath Satoru's easygoing facade.
There was an accusation laced in Suguru's words, almost as venomous as the unusual emotions that Satoru feels aimed in his direction. Suguru's words, and the petname that caps them off, were meant to be barbed. Satoru's feels the sting of dear still, as he finally looks up and sees that the Madam is sparing Suguru the hug she forced upon him, likely due to his attire and apparent occupation.
Satoru's innate response is to argue against what amounts to an accusation, in a way he might have argued with Suguru long ago — loudly, with bluster, burying the lede of his overall point, which would be that he obviously remembers the vow and has adhered to it, otherwise he'd be suffering the consequences. It takes a lot of restraint not to fall into those old habits; it takes even more restraint not to laugh again, or change this from a civil teatime into something that would be sure to irritate everyone, not just Suguru.
Not eveything comes easy to Satoru, even if it does come to him in the end.
Madam Vermeer is, naturally, surprised to find that Satoru's husband is a man of the cloth, and maybe a little suspicious, too. She looks between them; Satoru looks at her son, who shuffles back and forth on his feet.]
We were married before he was ordained. [Sometimes a calling comes knocking long after sweet nothings are whispered in the middle of a night; sometimes you go to bed with a person one night, only for them not to return the next. Isn't that how it goes?] I take my marriage vows very seriously, so I stuck with him, even though it meant certain limitations.
[He lilts his tone on that last word. Madam Vermeer's son finds this amusing but tries to hide it. Madam Vermeer herself is a little more scandalized. Maybe she's beginning to feel like she dodged a bullet in losing the chance to marry off her son to Satoru.
It is, of course, a rebuke for Suguru's earlier comment, as much as it is a disruption to polite tea talk — he's broken no vows. His students were always off-limits. And Suguru, for all his polite demeanor, is managing to strike the chord he wants with his diction.
But Satoru isn't sabotaging this meeting, even if he's already thinking about the cost, something he should have better-considered before texting Suguru. Hence, he plays off his comment with a chuckle, as though he was misunderstood.]
I mean his work hours. They keep him out late, especially now that he's spending so much time at the clinic.
[Every single word is spoken with effort; every single word looks like ease.
Only one person in this room has concerned himself over someone who is ill, and Satoru tries not to allow his thoughts to venture in the direction of Nobara agian, but they do. And then again: he thinks of Suguru speaking with the nurses. Suguru on her network post. Suguru following her trail.]
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[ She loves her sensei but facts are facts ]
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I'd add loud and rude, but you're not too far off.
So you really are his student.
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which is the crux of this matter, really, because here is suguru, sacrificing more of himself, of his values—and for what? for what? for satoru, whose reason for being here remains a mystery that he did not, does not, feel the need to share. and yes, sure, some variation of this worked for them, once; this does not work for them now, for there is no friendship to fall back on.
but suguru's options are limited; he has little choice but to accept the role that satoru assigns him, which is why he mumurs his own greetings, both allowing and listening for satoru to flesh out this scene. satoru is the director; suguru is the lead watching for cues. this is far more tiring than it was a decade before. the thrill that was not knowing what satoru would say, what satoru would do—even when satoru would take things too far, suguru's exasperation was tinged with the sort of fondness that, when given enough time, superseded everything else. they were a team.
and they do work well together, all things considered. satoru still offers the (ridiculous) explanation that suguru needs; suguru still rolls with it as opposed to bucking against it, managing a quiet, almost embarrassed laugh in the brief pause that follows. of course he understands satoru's true meaning? which is annoying, in its way; satoru's limitations are nothing, in the grand scheme of things, but satoru always was better at taking than giving.
(maybe you've forgotten what it's like to work with others. suguru told him this—and suguru remembers what followed, but in this moment, this is what suguru thinks of: satoru, coasting. satoru, failing to recognize the value of suguru's cooperation.)
but as madam vermeer's eyes jerk back to suguru at the mention of his visits to the clinic—no doubt wondering how close he comes to the infected on a daily basis—he just barely inclines his head, playing the part of the humble, dedicated priest.]
It's easy to overlook the caretakers, isn't it? They help others, but they often have no one to help them. A noble sacrifice. [the briefest pause, as though he's thinking of all those hard-working, nurses, before he continues with:] I offer them what comfort I can.
[and with that said, he raises his head just to catch satoru's eye, a smile once again playing about his lips. as though satoru is the apple of his eye; as though his presence is a blessing.]
Which does leave us little time together—but thankfully, my husband has always been such a selfless partner.
[ah, yes. satoru the selfless. another trifle of amusement as the lady and her son finally make their way to their seats, servants pulling them out for them—but as suguru also sits, making sure to only do so after the lady is well on her way to being situated, he adds:]
Of course, he's been doing his part, too. [or, well, as suguru reaches for his napkin before a servant can begin pouring his tea—] Or so I'm told. He's too modest to tell me himself.
[something, something, no communication whatsoever.]