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Gojo Satoru was nothing but a title. An empty shell containing the rotten corpse of a man who was too young to die. The Strongest. Gojo Satoru was nothing more than a name, one so heavy to bear that he was buried under it when he lost his breath against Sukuna. A weapon, until the very end.
Satoru never thought about his life.
Lie.
Satoru always thought about his life. How it was filled with the promise of power and the title of the strongest. But when Suguru brought the corpse of the girl he failed to save, he felt sick. So sick he wished he could end everyone in the room. The proof of the cracks beneath the title he wore.
Satoru thought being the strongest mean he could do anything he wanted. Power had been promised to his hands the moment he opened his eyes to gaze upon the world. But oh, how foolish he was.
He grew, of course. That cracked shell hid itself beneath his wide smile, rotting quietly inside him, waiting for just the right moment to burst and show the world that he had already died long ago.
Years ago, in December, Gojo Satoru had died with the blood of his love scattered by his own hand in a nameless alley.
Or so he thought.
Itadori Yuuji. The brightest sun Satoru had ever seen, the kind that blinds you even when your eyes are already closed. A light that made him forget, for a moment, that he was only a weapon.
Satoru never meant to fall.
But he did. Hard.
Yuuji was everything he wished to protect. A boy who shone so bright that he was destined to burn out too soon. A boy that is cursed to live a short life, ending in the most brutal way possible at the hands of the strongest, Gojo Satoru.
Fate must have been laughing when she made Satoru fall again. To end the life of his love and watch their warmth fade while his hands were drenched in their blood. What a cruel way to remind him that he was nothing but just a title.
But Yuuji was too bright, and like a moth to a flame, Satoru couldn’t help himself. He fell again, again, and again. Every time he saw that smile. Every time those honey colored eyes softened with affection when they gaze onto him. Every time Yuuji tried his best to help, even when fate itself was merciless.
Satoru let himself fall for that boy. He knew how it would end. He always knew. And so, he thought,
‘If loving you means drowning, while hoping I could hold your hand once more, then so be it. I’ll drown a thousand times if it means I can hold you for one more second before I lose you by my own hand.’
The day came like winter, quiet but inevitable. Satoru stood before Yuuji for the last time, his Infinity down, his soul laid bare. The boy looked at him, truly looked. Past the title, past the power and saw the corpse hiding within the strongest. And he smiled.
"Gojo-sensei," Yuuji said, and there was no fear in his voice. Only warmth. Always warmth.
"It's okay."
Two words. A final act of mercy, not for himself, but for his executioner. It was the cruelest kindness Satoru had ever received. He wanted to scream. To tear the world apart. To rewrite fate itself with his bare hands.
But the strongest doesn't get to choose.
His hands moved. Yuuji's warmth spilled.
Satoru was a man before he was a corpse. But on the day Itadori Yuuji was executed, Satoru became nothing more than a corpse dying for the second time.
And thus, Gojo Satoru is the strongest once again.