Chapter Text
Satoru Gojo is fully aware of the fact that nothing can hurt him. He’s indestructible. A force of nature that is immovable and unavoidable.
He still flinches when the distant crack of thunder is heard, there as he sits in the classroom.
The class has long finished, but they remained, talking about something or another that he sure as hell couldn't focus on, at that moment. The sky was a nice, satisfying, clear blue no less than 10 minutes ago. But that’s what they get for the first week of classes. September is always the most difficult.
He rubs the skin between his eyebrows for the migraine that will surely arrive at some point that day.
It’s not that he has an extreme fear of storms or thunder, or something as childish as that.
But..he’s grown wary of them. Nothing good ever comes from them. At least for him.
He honestly can’t focus on even one word that they’re saying. This is a shame because it looks like they’re arguing about something or another, and that’s always entertaining to witness.
The flaky wood of his desk is much more comprehensible right now than the halo of cursed energy around Suguru, rumbling, writhing, like black magma matter full of nightmares that his eyes try their best to capture and analyze.
It was disorienting at first. Seeing an entire arsenal of curses surrounding him every time they spoke. He eventually got used to it, and managed to somehow find Suguru under there as well. And his was so much more lovely than the thrashing mess around him, so he chose to focus on that sliver.
Though, he’d found beauty in the dark mass around him as well. Over time. He’d found it soothing.
Right now, he’s jittery, awaiting what’s to come. So his focus is fucked. He sees everything and there is definitely no blissful escape.
Unless he plucks his eyes out, of course.
But that would be not so good, he tries to remind himself, even as the first rumbling starts to be heard.
Suguru must notice that he’s grown quiet and flicks him on the forehead.
“You good?”
He pretends to flail dramatically and almost falls out of his chair, and that has the desired effect. Suguru snorts and Shoko rolls her eyes, assured that he can keep up with his usual antics. Never mind that his finger didn’t even actually touch skin, only infinity.
He tries to join in on the conversation, makes ridiculous jokes and laughs obnoxiously loud. That doesn’t help distract him from the clouds slowly closing in.
They were supposed to go on a mission that day, the two of them.
He can, of course, pull through. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s had to fight curses while a thunderstorm was occurring. It’s never fun, though.
“Oi, look alive. We need to go.” Suguru suddenly appears in front of him, only a few centimeters apart, and he’s sufficiently distracted looking at his honestly unfairly beautiful face, to forget to respond.
He tilts his face, a smidge of concern bleeding into his eyes, and no he’s not going to stand for that. He jumps out of his chair, and he resolutely does not flinch at the scraping sound it makes.
“How dare you? I look wonderful!” he argues, throwing his arm over Suguru’s shoulders.
That annoying idiot went ahead and hit a growth spurt before him, so it's a little more difficult than it was last year to walk wrapped around him as he is. But he knows he’ll soon join him, maybe even surpass him in height, and he looks forward to all the teasing that he’ll be entitled to do.
They separate to go inside their own rooms and prepare for the mission. They are unfortunately on opposite ends of the hallway, which causes some difficulty when sneaking in or out. The compound is older than dirt, after all, and all the wooden floors creak loudly enough to belong in a horror movie. So after a movie night, or a late night talk, or a random drinking fest with Shoko, they have to play a game of chance to see if they wake up the prim and proper Nanami Kento.
Said stick-in-the-mud holds absolutely no qualms about presenting them to the principal with pretty little bows on their heads should they put a toe out of line. He thinks drinking with a girl in the boys’ dorms past curfew counts as something he wouldn’t exactly appreciate.
He pulls on his thicker uniform, the wind not cold but stronger than the summer breeze of a week ago. It’s meant to be an overnight trip, in this small seaside town on the coast of Mie prefecture. Who thought it was a good idea to organize a seaside mission in the middle of storm season, he doesn’t know. But he sure as hell can’t complain.
He’d been taught early on that letting others know of this..inconvenience..is risky and unnecessary.
But no matter how many times he was thrown out of the compound, to fend for himself in the woods while a storm was imminent, his eyes still haven't adjusted to taking it in. It is too bright, too loud, too big, too..much.
Though he supposes, if there was one thing better than the rest about his training, it was the fact that he now wasn’t rendered completely immobile. He had to learn how to get over it, how to move, how to run and how to fight whilst his eyes were perceiving explosions all around him. It took a few years, a lot of effort and a lot of bleeding, but he got here. Eventually.
He shuffles around his perpetually messy room, which drives Suguru up the wall, trying to find everything he needs. He manages to pack an overnight bag, with a change of clothes, a knife just in case hand-to-hand combat becomes necessary for whatever reason, and his trusty hospital-grade painkillers that he refuses to go anywhere without anymore. Perk of his line of work.
It truly hadn’t been as bad when he was younger, though the brutality of his training was and has been the same. But the level and volume of missions thrown his way has grown, as he has as well. At least they trust him to deal with it, he guesses.
And so Six-Eyes gets overused, and his pain tolerance skyrockets. It’s only natural.
He’s the strongest, so he doesn’t begrudge anyone for this bullshit he has to deal with. It’s his responsibility, after all. An honor that only he has.
It’d be nice to get a reprieve every once in a while, though.
He takes in a breath, holds it, and waits for the boom of thunder to stop reverberating through his walls. And his skull.
A knock sounds on his door and brings him out of his state f forced calm.
“You gonna be long in there? We have to go soon.” The deep timber of Suguru’s voice echoes through his room. He shakes his head and smiles. This is possibly his only reprieve, though he can’t quite admit it aloud.
He met Suguru when they were both scrawny third years. Junior High was an..interesting time for them. And yes, he has enough self-awareness to admit he was indeed a scrawny little shit back then.
Suguru, appearing in their classroom, looking at the floor like it personally offended him. He was beautiful then too, not that Satoru realized, or would ever admit it, even now that he had realized it.
In the beginning, it was clear he didn't want to be there. And he, being the nosy person that he is, purposely overheard the principal talking with Professor Yaga about it. Some too many times seeing curses in front of his parents caused them to think him incapable of taking care of himself, or even insane, according to the principal. They were considering sending him to some hospital in the middle of nowhere, for his “own good”. What a load of bullshit.
The things that average people come up with to explain the extraordinary will never not be ridiculous to him.
Though, the school intervened before it got to that. They’d caught a whiff of someone exorcising curses, who wasn’t on the register. Someone whose remnants they couldn’t recognize. Naturally, a teacher went to investigate, found him in the process of digesting a GRADE-A curse, and the rest is history.
He still gets a kick out of the fact that they called the school a religious healing academy to get Suguru’s parents to agree. What they do, couldn't be further from that if they tried. In fact, were they to approach any religious person with stories of what goes on in their school, or in their everyday life, they’d be eligible for an exorcism, he thinks with a smile.
Yaga, in his usual stern voice which has absolutely no effect on him at all, told them to get along and take care of each other, that first day.
So, they’d fought, of course.
Naturally.
Almost cut each other’s heads off a couple of times because Suguru had absolutely no respect for him, or any self-preservation.
He kept antagonizing him, called him all names that he could think of. ‘Entitled’ was and still is his favorite. Of course, it lacks the sting it had back then, and is a more affectionate term, but back then they both went against each other tooth and nail at every opportunity.
Suguru couldn’t fathom the allowances that the teachers gave him, the level of missions assigned to him, or his behavior.. It is to be expected, having grown up away from the jujutsu world. He didn’t know what it truly meant to hold Six-Eyes, or Limitless. What kind of responsibility or legacy he carries on his shoulders, what is expected of him, how he is expected to act.
He understands now, they’ve both come to understand each other. Mostly. But back then, he wasn’t so understanding, and he fought back.
He didn’t hold back, sparred with him, both in classes and out, probably used his technique too much in order to prove himself to the other. He ended up with a headache more often than not, back then.
Surprisingly enough, he hadn’t won every altercation. He guesses that’s how they ended up gaining an acceptable amount of respect for each other. Suguru because he saw that he wasn’t just a “pretty face with a supposed reputation”, in his words. And Satoru, because he found a person at last who could keep up with him. Someone who could keep him company at the top of the stony mountain he was staked at.
No matter how cliché it sounds, being by himself as the sole strongest person in their society gets lonely sometimes. Finding someone to keep him on his toes was like the first sign of spring. He can now accept that as the truth, no matter how hard he tried to deny needing that push when he was younger.
And now, more than two years later, he can’t imagine what every day would look like without him, his presence, his snide comments, his blanket of cursed energy, so dark and all-encompassing that it gives him some relief to look at,rather than anything else.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, I’ll be right out.” he bites back.
“Think about the state of my panties a lot, do you?” is the response that greets him as soon as he comes out of the room, plus a raised eyebrow.
Well, he definitely does, but it’s not like he can say that. Or Suguru might have one of his curses try to eat him out of anger.
“Tsk, fuck off.” he rams his shoulder on the other’s side for good measure as he walks ahead. The other simply smirks and shows no other reaction.
Professor Yaga is standing in the middle of the grassy training field, now shiny with droplets of rain, and he knows it won't be too long before the skies open up and upend their entire contents on their head. He tries to rush as much as possible, not caring to excuse himself in Suguru’s questioning eyes.
“Are you two ready?” he gruffs out, probably because he had to stand in the rain to wait for them.
At receiving two nods, he quickly assembles the transportation technique and a circle of cursed energy materializes around them, like a whirlwind.
He closes his eyes, even though that doesn’t help a bit against the myriad of colors assaulting his senses from said whirlwind. He can do nothing but wait for it to pass, and he tries to focus on the black writhing mass next to him instead, like an umbrella. Even if his eyes are closed, Six-Eyes is not something to be limited by physical means, and will continue to feed him any output of cursed energy even behind his eyelids.
After forever and yet no time at all, Suguru shakes his shoulder. “We’re here, what are you doing?” He opens his eyes, to see his retreating back, walking out of the alleyway they arrived in. To find the hotel, no doubt.
The sky looks turbulent, and he processes with a lot of trepidation that they’re by the ocean during storm season. It’s already raining, the water hitting rooftops and road tiles harshly. It can’t touch him because of infinity, but it still triggers his adrenaline response. He is so fucked it’s not even funny.
The distant boom of thunder has him take a deep breath, the hair on his arm already standing on edge, no matter how much he tries to will himself to stay calm.
“Coming!” He quickly catches up, and they blend in the street. It’s a lot less busy than it would be, were the weather to be good, and his senses are tingling with something vile and anxious. Because even the locals aren’t outside in this storm.
They are experienced, their research for this mission revealed that the people of here often fish, work and conduct their business during this time of year. They know this weather, and this area, and they’re avoiding it for a reason, only the occasional vendor braving the oppressive rain.
And him, whose eyes perceive lightning as though it assails right on top of him, is supposed to be out and about, fighting curses whilst the trees are bending, and the sea is dancing from the wind.
He has a fair bit of experience dealing with this, he reassures himself as he walks behind Suguru. It’s not the first time, nor will it be the last, that he has to fight whilst his eyes are overwhelmed. A storm is but a minor inconvenience.
Ever since his trainers realized this weakness, back when he was only reaching their knees in height, they did their absolute best to make him get over it. He’d stayed in the forest surrounding the compound on most storms of his childhood, having to find his way back from wherever they dropped him off before his eyes made it too difficult to walk.
He’d managed. He’d done it, again and again, and he improved.
Or, later, he’d have to deal with minor curses when lightning struck near the cliffside, not even a kilometer away. Even if it felt like the strike tore his skull in half, he still had to fight.
This was nothing, he repeated to himself like a mantra. There is no reason to be thinking about it. He’d fought in worse conditions.
He truly didn’t know why this particular storm made him feel on edge. Maybe it was because Suguru was there.
.. But they’d gone on missions together before, so that wasn’t completely right.
Though.. Suguru hadn’t really witnessed how bad the toll Six-Eyes can have yet. He’d tried to avoid talking about it as much as possible, so the fault is entirely his own. Perhaps if Suguru, wrapped in kindness as he is, knew a bit about it, Satoru wouldn’t feel like he was dangerously close to letting him down.
He kept a tight knuckle grip on his focus and control. No matter the pulsating pain that he would have to fight through, he couldn't slack off and compromise Suguru. Not for anything.
And he definitely couldn't show him how it affected him. Not only would it be risky, but it wasn’t his problem to deal with, he couldn’t just sick that on him.
Oh..
He realizes that what bothers him is indeed just that. In the past, he had solo missions during summer and early autumn. The busiest months, for him at least. And the most unpredictable in terms of weather. He’d dealt with it himself at the end of every mission, a cold compress giving the illusion of relaxation, so that he didn't give himself a tension headache on top of what Six-Eyes saw fit to grant him. And enough painkillers to put down a cow.
After around 9–10 hours of sleep, he was fine as ever.
.. No chance of that happening now. He wouldn't be able to excuse it.
They somehow arrive in front of the hotel, small but nicer than he was expecting from this almost empty town. It promises warm rooms and seafood that is freshly caught. Not that they’ll have the chance to experience any of that tonight. He has a feeling that this mission will take a while, as he sees the worsening conditions outside.
They go to reception and as they’re waiting for the woman to prepare their key, Suguru suddenly bends to whisper, “Did you see they offer onsen rooms here?”
“Yeah, I did. Why? You want one like that?”
He shrugs his shoulders and answers nonchalantly, “Nahh, I just haven’t been to one, in a while. It looks nice.”
He definitely wants one like that.
He turns to the woman looking through the cupboards for their key, who was obviously not too happy to see two underage boys checking in together. But when he requests an upgrade to an onsen room and holds out his metal credit card, she beams at him enough to power a lighthouse, and he counts it as a win.
Suguru grumbles that it was unnecessary, that they’ll finish too late to properly enjoy it, and that it’s a stupid expense, but he smiles when he bumps their shoulders together, so he'll take it as thanks. He rolls his eyes and smiles back.
Their new room is more of a small house than a room, with a kitchen, a bathroom, an outside patio with a private onsen area, and a bedroom.
A bedroom.
…
As in..one bedroom..for the two of them?
With one bed?
For both of them..?
Well..it can’t be too bad, he supposes. They’ve shared a room before for missions, it’s not like it's an unprecedented phenomenon. He decides he needs to get his shit together and stop freaking out over the smallest things.
But with the room upgrade, the private onsen, the seaside view.. It feels a lot like a romantic getaway. Not a mission.
Not that Suguru views it like that. He’s perfectly content to unpack quickly and pull out his weapons, not a care at all. If the bedroom situation bothers him, he sure doesn't show it. The only crazy one is Satoru, who can’t even keep his eyes off of him for two seconds, addicted as he is.
But Suguru..is his friend. His best friend. The one who understands him above all others. And he’d rather cut his own head off than risk that. And for what, some infatuation that he knows can’t be returned?
Satoru knows that objectively he’s not bad looking, nor does he lack redeeming features. But as Suguru likes to point out, he’s “one of the most annoying people on this planet”. And he can’t exactly disagree. They drive each other up the wall on most days, best friends or not. He can’t imagine Suguru seeing him in any light other than friendly. He causes too many problems for anything else to be expected.
Maybe if he was another person. A normal one, with normal eyes, or even no eyes at all. Whose responsibilities and training wouldn’t put him in such a position. Who could choose what to do with his days and show his emotions and care freely.
But he’s Satoru Gojo, and even though Suguru understands him a lot, understands him enough, he only understands what Satoru let him see. Only what wouldn’t be a weakness.
And he already thinks of him as an annoyance. Imagine if he saw all the chaos he actually is. He’d run for the hills, without a doubt. He snorts at himself, self-deprecatingly. He really needs to stop thinking of such things.
“What are you laughing about?” Suguru asks, not looking up from sharpening his blades together.
“Your stupid face, of course!” he cheerfully replies, and sticks out his tongue. Suguru of course falls for it, because never let it be said that he doesn’t know him as intimately as he knows himself. He knows just what strings to pull to get whatever reaction he wants by now. He starts chasing him around the small sitting area, blades in hand, until they both trip over the same bloody coffee table.
Well, Satoru trips on the coffee table, ends up on the couch and then Suguru trips over his extended legs. And ends up on top of him on said couch.
The blades are thankfully somewhere on the floor and not embedded in his innards, which is very good. Suguru, close enough to see all the hues in his eyes, is not so good.
Now that he thinks about it, the blades in his abdomen may be a safer option. At least then there’s a chance of survival. But if he stays like this, with Suguru looking at him, so annoyed and amused and beautiful and so fucking perfect, he’ll actually kiss him. And then he’ll definitely die. Either cause he killed himself or because Suguru did. Whichever comes first.
Suguru doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe from the look of it even, and he must really be pissed off for that to happen. He just stays there, their lower bodies connected, torso flush against him, and his eyes reading Satoru’s face like he can find some kind of answers there.
Satoru makes no sound or movement either, his whole body seizing from the force it takes to keep his control in check. Finally, Suguru breathes out and pulls back, getting off the couch and dusting himself off like Satoru gave him the ick. And isn’t that a big sad irony. Because if anything, Satoru gives himself the ick with how he acts. He’s been taught better than that. They have a mission to do, an entire town of people to save, and he’s here teasing Suguru, and running around like a child. Has he lost his senses?
He makes to sit up on the floral patterned couch, and just then, because relief is never a long-term state for him, it seems, the windows light up, the room bleeding white.
It feels like his entire body is on fire, like all the particles that are charged with electricity around him are trying to forcefully find purchase on his skin. Six-Eyes helpfully makes the experience even more detailed, and it’s like he’s hitting the dirt outside and splitting into a million little atoms along with the lightning.
He can’t feel anything, can't hear anything, can’t even see around him anything corporeal except the expanse of darkness that the sky looks like during a storm. He’s nowhere and everywhere all at once, and then Suguru, and his black blanket of curses, is shaking his shoulder and saying his name and suddenly he exists again.
“Come on, are you gonna sleep? We need to go, Satoru.”
His eyes refuse to cooperate for a bit, because he, the idiot, is out of practice, apparently. The room shakes from the force of the strike as it hits the ground outside. He manages to regain some of his composure, but Suguru is already looking at him weirdly. His body looks too tense, he can feel it, but he can't relax it, no matter ho hard he tries.
His skull has naturally started throbbing. It’s low on the pain scale of what this can evolve into, but he’s not fooled. He gives it 2 hours before it reaches peak inconvenience. Max.
But it is of no importance as they grab what they need and head back out, into the downpour.
His infinity is wrapped tight enough to choke him, so he stays wonderfully dry. But it's better than being caught off guard again, so he lets it slowly drain the air out of his lungs.
Suguru walks ahead, one hand buried in his pocket, and the other holding his phone close so that he can lead them to the location they need to scout out. Yaga had sent it with instructions of observing first before exorcizing the curse, as it was a Semi-Grade 1 and had already sunk 12 ships in the last year. Apparently he didn't think his two strongest students could take it.
Thankfully, the principal didn’t underestimate them as well, and had assigned this mission personally.
Yaga only agreed under the condition that they didn't charge head first without a plan. And with Suguru there, calm and collected and logical as he usually is, he needn’t have worried.
The phone’s screen is the only thing illuminating their way as they walk, catching on Suguru’s metal earrings and making the dark alley they’re in look less haunted. Slightly.
They arrive in front of the port area, where many ships are anchored. More than he expected from such a small town. He sees fishing boats, bigger traveling ones, and even one yacht. All swaying as the waves climb up the piers and crash down again.
They finally come to a stop in front of a rundown warehouse, its front connected to the sea, and the smell of sea moss and rust assaults his nostrils.
Suguru closes his umbrella and puts it somewhere so that they can grab it again when they’re done. Never mind that Satoru doesn’t need it. But he’s thoughtful like that.
The sky lights up again, and he can’t quite hide his flinch. How can his skin look alright when it feels like a thousand explosions are happening across it? His eyes are quickly starting to pulsate in their sockets.
Suguru is busy reading the “CLOSED DOWN” sign for more information, so he remains unaware of Satoru’s momentary weakness.
“Let’s round the perimeter. Find a back entrance or something.” He suggests, and Satoru grunts in reply, because he can’t quite trust himself to speak.
So they split up, and he no longer has to hide the way he twitches every time the sky rumbles. After no time at all, one of Suguru’s curses, a small reptilian one that doesn’t draw any attention in the middle of the night, bites at his pant leg. He follows it, and they find a door leading to a basement, hidden behind large trash containers.
He lets Suguru try to move them with one of his curses so that they can access the door. He lets him try for a few minutes, because he’s annoying like that, until the screech of the metal against asphalt is too much and may actually alert the curse of their presence. Then he steps in.
“Or we can just do this.” He snaps his fingers for the extra flair factor and levitates them away from the door, letting them down gently. No sound is made. He pretends to dust off his hands, as Suguru looks on with unfathomable frustration. By this point, his hair has started gathering crystal droplets, and Satoru feels stupid for not having offered to cover him with infinity as well.
“And you didn't think to do this before I broke my back trying to move these?” He gripes, and Satoru goes closer to use Infinity once more to unlock the door.
“Now, where’s the fun in that?” He quips back, because he can’t be likable apparently, and doesn’t see the reaction that brings out, bend as he is with his finger in front of the lock. He reaches out with his technique, feeling the gears and mechanisms inside of it, and twitches it this and that way until a ‘click’ is heard.
All of a sudden, in front of his face, is deposited a slimy sea slug, the size of the palm holding it. He only just manages not to screech, but whams it with his hand by instinct and sends it flying.
.. It lands clear on Suguru’s face. Who, even as the perpetrator who brought it in front of him in the first place, has the gall to look outraged.
“What’d you do that for?!” he growls out, stalking up to him. Satoru raises his eyebrows, looking up at him through his glasses in a condemning manner.
“You’re the one who started it.” he excuses, handing him a cloth napkin he had in his pocket to wipe the slime off his face. He can’t imagine it’s very comfortable or clean.
Suguru looks at it like he doesn’t know whether to be offended or not, but takes it with a roll of his eyes.
“Tsk. Let’s just go.”
Another strike hits the ground, further away, so it only just manages not to feel like a sledgehammer against his skull. He closes his eyes and quickly takes a steadying breath.
They slam wide open when a metal creak, like something heavy crawling on the roof, is heard.
Suguru grabs him by the elbow, drags him inside the basement and locks the door shut. He has one of his curses stand guard against the door so that they have one clear exit route, and Satoru who has by now gotten his shit together holds his hand to his lips, and then points upwards, signaling the other to be quiet. It’s quite convenient that they need to be silent from this point on, he can’t imagine he wants to answer any questions Suguru has right now.
Suguru has a complicated look on his face, but nods nonetheless. They use Suguru’s phone to light the way, looking for clues as they go. They need to know what they’re fighting, after all, to make a plan.
Okay, so they might have not exactly heeded Yaga’s words, but how can they make a plan based on the information they gave them? They’re not charging head first per se, they're simply scouting ahead to broaden their understanding of the situation. Yeah, that sounds about right.
They were told this town had been suffering from shipwrecks and freak accidents at sea for close to 4 years now. They hadn't reported it, because it only happened during storm season, but now it started happening at any time too, and someone finally called their relative to complain. Their relative knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who works in one of the jujutsu offices in the center of Tokyo under the guise of pest management. And so, by word of ear, they found out.
Apparently, this all started happening after a big storm sank 3 ships. There had been no survivors, not that anyone had been able to leave the port to go check. Because of the weather, it had been days before anyone was able to go check. And by then, only one ship could be salvaged. But they found no bodies or bones inside.
The residents took it and the family of the owner placed it in the warehouse they were currently investigating. After that, no ship of that family that left the port ever came back. Slowly they all left, and their business closed down. But the situation escalated, even after they left. Now only a few people were able to come and go, and they did not seem to have any apparent connection to the disaster of back then.
Now they’re starting the mission in the place where it all started. If any ships that left this warehouse didn't make it back to port, naturally, the curse made his lair there.
More creaking above head has them freezing in their tracks. The air in the basement becomes freezing, even though it isn’t cold outside, and they can now see the imprints of their breaths fog up in front of them.
Satoru notices an old staircase, no doubt leading somewhere where they can have more of an optical advantage. He nods towards it, and Suguru quickly catches his meaning, rushing over there with quiet footsteps.
Meanwhile, he stares at the ceiling, willing Six-Eyes to focus on what’s above them rather than the continuous assault of split atoms on his shield made of Infinity. What he finds makes his hair stands on edge for another reason entirely. Because that is definitely a Special Grade he’s seeing. And it’s as large as a house. Their info had been wrong, this thing has killed a lot more people than they thought.
*CRACK*
He whips his head around to stare in horror at the staircase, of which a step had caved in, trapping Suguru’s leg inside of it. He looks back at him, equally alarmed, but Satoru has no time to think, no time to react, before the wooden ceiling caves in and down descend humongous..tentacles? No, seriously, what actually are those?
They thrash around, tearing down shelves and old equipment as they try to locate him and Suguru.
Satoru is jumping, twirling, running, ducking, doing everything he can to get far away enough from them to assess the situation at hand, but it's no good. Those things are too fucking fast. He sees an old metal pike shining in the corner, and he makes a dive for it, thinking he can use it to nail one or more of them down. He can’t use infinity in this old building, or it’ll come down on top of them. Never mind that the thing is too big, and too fast, for infinity to be able to do any significant damage in this small space they’re confined in.
Suguru sees him eyeing it and makes a quick decision. A very stupid, impossible, reckless decision that is so unlike him that Satoru thinks he might have hit his head or something. Because the impossible idiot, instead of quietly blending into the wall behind him until the tentacles leave, pulls his leg and causes a loud creaking noise. Which draws the curse's attention as expected.
It leaves Satoru, and all those slimy tentacles, whose suckers apparently have mouths with an indefinite amount of teeth in them, head for Suguru. Whose leg is still fucking stuck, and he can take it out, he has the strength to do it without a doubt, but it’ll cost him those few extra seconds and Satoru’s mind blanks.
He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t stop to think or breathe, only grabs the spear and catapults himself over there with neck-breaking speed.
He knows he’s succeeded when he finds himself hovering above Suguru, his eyes big and horrified and enraged, and tentacles wrapped around his midsection.
In the next second, he’s pulled up through the broken ceiling, splinters bouncing harmlessly off Infinity. Suguru screams his name and jumps out after them, his curse technique already activating, and several actually disgusting insect-type curses jump out with him.
But he’s too busy staring at the millions of small eyes on that curse's face, reflecting his own face back at him. It’s huge, like he thought. Which shouldn't be a problem for him, on any other day. But today he’s jittery, and if he misfires once, this whole building is collapsing on top of them, and he might not have enough time to cover Suguru with Infinity as well.
So he steels himself and rams the spear in the center of its head, not that it’ll do much as the spear has no cursed energy. But it annoys it enough to flail about. He’s tossed here and there, thrown through the roof, and pulled back down to fall on his ass next to Suguru. He’s assumed a fighting position and is on standby as soon s the thing is close enough for him to get a clear shot.
But when Satoru finally lands on the ground, he instead sends his curses to distract the now-dubbed “Kraken”, so he can check up on Satoru.
“You okay?” he asks urgently. At his affirming nod, Suguru continues with even greater urgency.” What the fuck were you thinking, jumping in like that !?”
And Satoru must be not okay after all, must have hit his head actually, because he replies“ I wanted you to be safe.”
“I-you absolute..ugh.” Suguru splutters before settling for a groan that seems to come from deep within, and he then says nothing else.
Meanwhile, the “Kraken” is whacking the insects Suguru sent in all manners of directions, and soon there aren’t that many left. Satoru quickly gets into a fighting stance, pulling his glasses off and getting ready to give it his all. He’s close to Suguru now, could grab him in seconds and put him under infinity, so he can finally blast the thing to next Tuesday with no qualms. But he needs it t stay still long enough for that to happen.
“Do you have something big enough to hold it?” Because maybe destroying it isn't the only option here. And the last time he destroyed something Suguru wanted to digest, he didn’t speak to him for days. And that’s just plain torture, so he’d rather not repeat that, thank you very much.
“Nope, definitely not.” He answers while avoiding a stray tentacle that tried to slam into him.
“Well then..” he cracks his knuckles and gets minutely closer to the very much enraged curse. He has to duck and roll to avoid a few sets of mouths, determined to cut him in half.
“Are you planning on fighting it ?!”
And Satoru suddenly finds the situation so tragically funny that it's a wonder he doesn't break out into giggles. There they are, in the middle of nowhere, fighting a giant octopus, while the person he cares about the most in the world is behind him and has no way of containing it long enough for him to hit it straight on. So he has to tire it out first. Otherwise, they’ll make a mess.
“Sadly, I may be about to do that, yes.”
“It’s huge Satoru, get your ass back here!! We’ll figure something out together!” he shouts, now really fighting with those tentacles as all his insect curses have been destroyed. And the thing is fast. Too fast.
“I’ve fought bigger!” he replies with fake cheer and grabs on a tentacle. It leads him on a wild goose chase around the room, but finally he lands on the curse's head, which is now above the roof.
He starts hitting it as hard as he possibly can, imbuing his fists with cursed energy, hitting it directly in the eyes, hoping to slow it down enough to get a clear shot. But even on its head as he is, the tentacles keep coming for him, and though he avoids them the best he can, they’re really everywhere.
He tries cutting one off with cursed energy, but the fucking thing sprouts back almost immediately. He tries it again and again, but the result is the same, and he’s left surrounded by them.
After he delivers a particularly mean punch to its head, the clouds above light up, and he feels the familiar sensation of fire on his skin. In this fraction of a second, one of them grabs him without him realizing and starts throwing him through the roof. And infinity holds strong, but he can still feel the pressure that the 5 tonnes of metal rods and roof tiles are like, as they hit said barrier.
He gets enough of that and cuts the tentacle off, falling to the ground exactly where he’d started.
Suguru, who had been trying his hadn't at cutting them off from the bottom up, eyes him sceptically, sprawled on the ground as he is. “Fought bigger, have you?”
He shakes his head to clear the residual dizziness and gets to his feet. “Oh yes, definitely.” He replies sarcastically.
Suguru raises his eyebrows, like he thinks every single word he utters s bullshit. “Ne, Suguru, are you joking? It’s massive! I think you’d know if I fought a fucking-” he jumps to avoid yet another tentacle “-30 meters octopus before!!”
He throws a small blast of his blue technique, hoping to hit some of the tentacles and keep them gone this time. But the damn thing is too fast, and it’s now hanging upside down from the roof, hanging from the torn structure. And so he breaks a big portion of the wall instead. And he thanks everything that no one is outside at this hour, otherwise this would draw a lot of attention.
“It’s too fast, we have to tire it out!” Suguru shouts helpfully, and he adores him really, but this fight is making his nerves frayed, so he needs to finish it as soon as possible, so he can calm down. Before he does something crazy, like screaming at him. It’s the storm’s fault, he’s sure of it. He needs to finish this and lock himself in the hotel’s bathroom for at least one hour and relax, so he can get back to his usual infatuated state of being.
So they jump, and duck, and keep cutting those annoying tentacles off, and at last, one of them takes a few more seconds to sprout back. He lets out a whoop of joy, and he and Suguru redouble their efforts.
Again the crack of thunder is heard, loud enough to make the walls shake, and he recognizes that it's closing in. The storm is exactly above them.
He doesn’t have the time to react to this, only twists, jumps through the air, and tries his absolute damn most to keep as many of those damn legs gone. He’s getting tired, he can see Suguru’s breathing heavily as well, so he knows they need to put a stop to this.
He gets as close as he can, and he gets ready to release a stronger blast, right in its face. He sees it slowly turn its attention to him, while Suguru is busy summoning a snake curse to wrap around it, to keep it somewhat in place.
He also sees the opening on the roof above head, the dark expanse coiling and moving, as lighting flashes between the masses. His eyes catch the spear hanging from the curse's head, a spear he quickly recognizes from the fishing trip they went on as first years. A lighting redirector for boats. As in, the thing that’s supposed to be connected to a machine in order to push the very thing it attracts, in the opposite direction. So that it doesn’t hit the thing it’s staked on. There is no machine here.
He sees millions of eyes blinking at him, his ashen face reflected back at him. He sees, as though in slow motion, the rumbling come to a stop, a dangerous silence, and then the skies have parted, and the air is charged.
And then everything is white.
He’s flying backward, whether from the curse thrashing and throwing him, or from the electrical backlash from the strike, he doesn’t know. He doesn't know much of anything in that moment.
Only pain. Immeasurable amounts of pain. He hits the floor at some point, or the wall, or something. His back is touching something.
But the only things he’s able to focus on are the stars attacking his vision, no matter that his eyes are closed. There is no reprieve. Not from this.
Even when his training required immersion therapy, as they called it, he’d never stood so close to one. Never felt its effects so bad.
They’d said it was just because of a weakness in Six-Eyes. They’d called it a malfunction in an otherwise perfect system.
Well, that malfunction is not limiting itself to his eyes. His entire body is burning, and the closer he pulls infinity to protect himself, the more it burns. His whole body, every atom, every particle, it’s as though it's attracting the lightning, like it’s stuck on his skin. It’s all on fire.
And Six-Eyes, blast those eyes, he’ll tear them out as soon as he gets the chance, see this threat hit Infinity, and they send him signals over and over and over again. And those signals make his already sensitive system, completely overwhelmed. Because Six-Eyes doesn’t do things by halves. No, they want him to experience it all over again, until it gets through his skull exactly what’s attacking him.
It’s a useful skill, when he’s fighting someone. The second the atoms of their cursed energy come into contact with infinity, he knows everything about their technique, as though he’s used it himself since he was young. Even if they don’t come near, it only takes minimal effort to dissect them.
But now..
Now, it's not cursed energy attacking his shield. It’s pure, undiluted electricity. It’s split atoms, and they’re attracted to the barrier he made up, for whatever reason. But, the only reason he didn't get fried like a dinner turkey is because of the aforementioned shield, so he’ll keep it up, even if it’s painful.
And it's like getting dissected, over and over again, and he’s experiencing what it feels like, getting electrocuted every time those particles come into contact with infinity. Which means, he experiences it non-stop.
He bites his tongue. He has enough sense left to know that if he screams, he’ll distract Suguru and that’ll be dangerous. He doesn’t need to drag Suguru down with him.
But as he muffles his screams around his tongue, and feels the taste of blood hit, he also knows somehow that hands are touching his skin. His fevered, and decidedly on fire skin. And the places, the trails those hands leave, he knows in his delirious state. His mind is pulsing with agony, but he recognizes Suguru.
He opens his eyes, only a fraction. Only to assure Suguru he’s not actually dead.
He takes in, eyes open a slit, the absolute carnage that the curse is causing.
It doesn’t seem like too much time has passed, though the agony feels like an eternity. The “Kraken” is still twitching from the electrical aftershock, still trying to break everything in the near vicinity, and the curse wrapped around him doesn’t look like it’ll hold for long.
Suguru is hovering above him, face frantic. He can feel, distantly, the pressure of his hands as they shake him. But, he can’t focus on that, can't focus on the way his head is close to bursting, can't focus on anything really. Because in his delirious state, he’d gone and distracted Suguru, and now one of the tentacles is heading straight for them. It escaped somehow the tight hold that Suguru’s curse had it under.
He doesn’t think, only pushes Suguru to the side, only takes a sharp breath, and holds out his hand, pushing whatever’s left in him, whatever his technique still can manage, into a destructive ball of cursed energy. He throws it at the curse, only keeping his eyes open enough to see it splatter and then disintegrate and then with relief, eyes ready to liquify themselves from the pain, knowing Suguru will take care of him, he lets himself fall to oblivion.