Work Text:
Part One
[THE DIARY]
Entry #3
I had a dream about you last night. You looked like someone who wouldn’t mind sticking around. You looked like someone who wouldn’t mind spending time with me in the slightest. You looked like someone who might have enjoyed it too.
I had a dream about you last night. You were smiling. You had a cheerful glint in your eyes, and I spent the whole night reflecting on how I treated you.
I had a dream about you last night, and you were hurting. I never noticed. I’m sorry I never noticed. I’m sorry I never held you and told you to never leave. I’m sorry I simply let you turn and walk away on the sidewalk that day.
I had a dream about you last night, and you had two arms and your skin was your own and not death’s. I never noticed how symmetrical you once were until I saw you last night. I never noticed that the darkness in your eyes might have been worth something more than a normal hue—that there might have been something sharp and unsettling about that unsearchable depth.
I had a dream about you last night, and you were happy. I never realized how few times you looked that way when you were around me. I never realized that I treated you unfairly until you were already gone.
And then, I had a dream about you last night, and everything clicked into place. I was a horrible friend to you, wasn’t I? Don’t answer that: of course I was. There is no doubt in my mind that you are much happier living without me. My only hope is that I get to see you again after all of this is over.
………
Entry #5
You look stupid in the dirt. You looked much happier when you were standing and living and breathing, and you probably looked even happier when you were awake enough to stay away from me.
Shoko did your autopsy. Do you know how many times she cried throughout the procedure? Twenty-seven times.
Do you know how I know that? It’s because I couldn’t bear the thought of your bones being sawed open without myself as your witness. If you were still alive in there and woke up screaming, I figured you’d want someone punchable around, so I watched the severing—the sawing, the tearing, the bagging—with my own eight eyes.
You never said a word throughout it all. And Shoko cried twenty-seven times.
………
Entry #11
You’ve been gone so long that I’m starting to forget what your voice sounds like.
In other news, Megumi is off to college. It’s great, and he’s going to be an amazing student. He’s always been a great student, but he’s never had a teacher who can help him grow like anyone-other-than-me can.
Why the heck am I even telling you this? It isn’t as if you can see this paper from all the way up There. Then again, just in case you can, I’ll keep writing.
So, Megumi is off to college. I’m happy for him. I’m just worried what I’ll turn into after he leaves.
You should have worried about that, too. Without you, all I was was an unwilling cornerstone. I thought we would always be pillars together, but then you— Never mind.
………
Entry #12
The house is quiet without him.
………
Entry #14
Don’t even try to tell me how stupid this is, but I’m moving to Okinawa. The beach and the sand and the water are warm, and the memories of you and Amanai and I there are the best ones I’ll ever have, and Megumi’s university is out there too.
Don’t you dare tell him that’s the reason I’m moving. (Not like he doesn’t know already.)
We started off rocky, my son and I, but I’d like to think we’ve come to an agreement that he is the blessing and I am the lucky one. It took a while to convince him I’d actually stick around, but that’s fine. All good things come with time anyway. And his deadbeat father didn’t help with the whole nobody-loves-me-everyone-hates-me-guess-I’ll-go-eat-worms thing, but the only reminder left of him is Tsumiki, and she’s still sleeping. He’ll be alright.
………
Entry #16
I had to move back to campus for this brat. It’s so stupid, Suguru. I just had the sand and the sun and the yadda yadda whatever. I know I can just teleport to Okinawa whenever I want, but it isn’t exactly the same as walking down some wooden steps and actually breathing while moving around. I know I never told you, although I’m sure you figured this out on your own, but it’s pretty painful getting blipped through space, y’know? I like to breathe using my actual lungs every once and a while. I like feeling like I’m actually alive sometimes.
Whatever. I’ll have to visit Megumi every other day anyway, so I’ll just check up on the house when I can. Or maybe I’ll have some maid from the clan dust around while I’m away. It’s not like there aren’t enough of them to go around anyway.
………
Entry #27
I don’t know what to do. Yuuji is dying. Sukuna’s cursed energy is tearing him apart, and I hid the last finger to protect him, but if I don’t give it to him and put him out of his misery, he’ll die a painful death.
I can’t let that happen.
Part Two
[THE WREAKING]
“Gojo-sensei—”
“I’m not your sensei.”
Disgruntled, he tries again. “Gojo-sensei—”
Satoru turns towards the boy and purses his lips to hide his grit teeth—the pressing scowl beneath his skin. “Listen, kid, I know you’ve been put in a pretty strange situation with all the” —He waves his arms around flippantly— “finger stuff, but I’m not your sensei.” I swore I’d never get stuck babysitting some stupid kid ever again.
“Gojo-s—“ He pauses, takes a deep breath, and tries again, “Gojo-san, where did you hide Sukuna’s twentieth finger?”
Gojo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “For the thousandth time, Itadori, I didn’t hide it anywhere. I just misplaced it. I’m sure I’ll remember where it is at some point or another—“
Itadori grabs him by the shoulders. “Gojo-san,” he says, sounding desperate, “I need to eat that final finger, and then you need to kill me, and then you can just—just forget all about me—about all of this mess. But I need to eat that finger. You need to give it to me—please.”
“Listen, kid,” Gojo says, staring Itadori straight through the eyes, “I said that I don’t remember where the finger is, so I don’t remember where it is.” He quirks a brow. “Got it?”
Itadori strengthens his grip on Gojo’s shoulders, gritting his teeth as he bites back a pitiful whine. “Gojo-sensei, I’m dying.”
Don’t call me that. I don’t deserve any respect, least of all from you. “But you don’t have to,” Gojo says, putting his hands atop Itadori’s softly. “You can just be a kid and live your life.” Can’t you?
Itadori shakes his head slowly, and Gojo watches in the tense silence as teardrops cascade down his young cheeks. “You know I can’t,” he says solemnly, continually shaking his head. “I can’t.”
But why not? This isn’t fair at all. None of this is.
Part Three
[THE DIARY, Cont.]
Entry #29
Yuuji might just want to die.
………
Entry #30
I figured it’s been long enough keeping him secluded for his own sake, and for the sake of others, so I introduced Yuuji to my son today. They seemed to have hit it off! I think…. Megumi’s sort of a handful in that way—it’s hard to tell if he ever really gets a person—he just shuts down when meeting someone new, but that’s alright. I’m sure he’ll get over it some day.
Yuuji looked at me like I was bonkers when I said we’d be leaving campus today. Sukuna peeked a little beady eye open and, as the kid gave me permission to, I poked the King of Insufferableness right on the sclera. Loser.
He seemed okay with Megs, though, just nervous. Fidgety. Sort of like he was being forced to eat ice cream at a park table and act friendly.
Haha! Maybe that’s why Megumi was so apprehensive the whole time. Man, that’s funny.
They might’ve sat in silence for twenty minutes before I pulled out Othello, but I didn’t hear a single complaint about the sticky fingers and gone ice cream cones, so I won. Suck it.
………
Entry #34
So, Megumi’s essentially moved home for the foreseeable future. He only met Yuuji a couple of days ago, and he’s already threatened me so I won’t execute him. He threatened me. Gojo Satoru. What the heck is he gonna do if I can’t hide the finger forever, tell Maxy to sit on Infinity until I can’t hold it up anymore? I thought my kid knew better.
Well, at least now that he’s back home, I can wrangle him into a spar or thirty. I’m sure his sedentary college bones would appreciate a little whipping into shape.
I’d have Megs and Yuuji spar together if I thought either of them could get through a match without passing out or crying, but for now, I can’t imagine any scenario where neither of those two things happen. I’m sure they’ll convince me otherwise in some way or another.
………
Entry #35
Suguru, I so hope you were watching them fight today. Yuuji totally did a hilarious backflip-into-a-faceplant maneuver, and Megumi somehow got Toady’s tongue all around him like a rope. He fell into the dirt right next to Yuuji.
They both cried from smashing their noses on the ground and I got to laugh in their faces because I was right and they were wrong to doubt me and they’re both stupid teens and golly, Suguru, were we that idiotic when we were their age? I sure hope not. That would be mortifying.
………
Entry #38
Shoko found the finger. She didn’t know what it was, so I can’t blame her for unwrapping it. Maybe I should have just told her about it in the first place. I don’t know if I can handle all of this on my own anymore.
I wish you were here.
Sukuna came running. If I ever have to see that pathetic-looking expression on Yuuji’s face again, it’ll be a million years too soon. The next time I see Sukuna, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind.
………
Entry #39
Megumi said to take a breath and relax for a while, but if I sit idle for one second longer, I’m going to say or do something I might regret. So, naturally, I blipped to Africa instead. Yuuta says “hi”. Miguel says “Gojo Satoru, get out of my face or I’ll kill you; this wasn’t the arrangement”. I had a great time.
………
Entry #40
I’ll be pivoting my efforts from here on out. I’m going to find a way to take Sukuna out of Yuuji’s body.
And then I’m going to kill him myself.
Part Four
[FAMILIAR PATHS]
“Gojo-se–san,” Itadori says, kicking the toe of his sneaker against the floor repeatedly. “You don’t need to go through all of this trouble for me.”
Gojo rolls his eyes, flipping the page of the book in his hands. “Sure I do,” he says simply. “Are you sure you don’t want Megumi here?” He pats the bench beside him.
Itadori takes a seat. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he says. He rubs at his cheeks irritatedly—Sukuna’s eyes haven’t shut since he sensed the final finger. “He doesn’t need to hear all of this.”
Gojo hums. “But he knows about everything.”
“Sure,” Itadori says, moving his hands upward to lie his palms against all four of the eyes on his face. “I just don’t want to get his hopes up. If she doesn’t have anything to help me, then this is basically a waste of time, right? I wouldn’t want him to feel… bad or whatever.”
“Uh-huh,” Gojo says, sounding rightly unconvinced. “And that’s why you decided to join me here, so you wouldn’t feel bad or whatever if it turns out your only options are to die now or die later?”
Itadori smiles sadly. “Those have always been my only options, sensei. I guess I just haven’t wanted to think about any other option because the likelihood of a saving grace this far in the process of… uh… consuming him is abysmal at best.”
Gojo hums. “You just didn’t want to get your own hopes up.”
“Exactly! See, I knew you’d–”
“Hypocrite.”
Itadori huffs out a laugh and props his elbows on his knees, lacing his fingers together. “Right,” he says with his head practically bowed down between his knees. “I’m a hypocrite. I don’t want Megumi to get his hopes up, but that’s the exact same excuse I’ve been giving myself to give up hope on finding a healthy alternative this entire time. I get it! I’m just piling screw ups on screw ups.”
“Itadori,” Gojo says, turning his head towards him. Itadori doesn’t move a single centimeter. “Just because you want to save Megumi from feeling bad doesn’t mean you should be putting yourself down instead. So, you made a mistake. Whatever. Everybody makes mistakes—and yes, before you even ask, that does include myself. Nobody ever expected you to know what you were doing throughout this whole thing. You weren’t even a sorcerer before you ate Sukuna’s finger.”
Itadori makes a frustrated sound. “No, you don’t get it! I should have thought to seek out another solution—I’ve lived–”
“Sorry for keeping you waiting!”
Gojo watches as Itadori’s frantic yet somehow solemn expression turns stony and apprehensive in an instant. His head raises and his eyes widen in surprise before Gojo even turns to greet the woman who’s joined them in the hall.
“Tsukumo Yuki,” Gojo says playfully, grinning from cheek to cheek at the girl who has given him so much more work to do over the years. He turns his gaze to her side appraisingly. “You must be her pupil, right? We’ve never met before, but I’m sure you know who I am.”
“Of course I do,” the tall boy says. “There isn’t a single jujutsu sorcerer in the world worth their salt who doesn’t know the name Gojo Satoru.”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Gojo remarks, crossing one knee over the other. “Do go on.”
“Regaling all of the great conquests of such—”
Tsukumo laughs, cutting the boy off as she waves a flippant hand in Gojo’s direction. “Oh, Satoru, leave my poor Aoi alone.”
Gojo shrugs innocently. “He started it.”
“Todo….”
All eyes fall upon Itadori and his disbelieving expression—the tears welling up in his bottom lids and the harsh red set just below them—until the boy averts his own.
“Sorry,” Itadori says, rubbing at his eyes with the long sleeves of his uniform. “Sorry, just give me a second.”
“He did the same exact thing when we met, too!” Gojo exclaims somewhat proudly with an impish grin on his face. “But, y’know, without the extra set of eyes.”
Tsukumo stares at Itadori for a while longer than she probably means to, her eyes growing more curious second after second. “Aoi,” she says, gesturing towards Itadori. “Why don’t the two of you chat somewhere else for a while?”
Itadori flinches harshly, tossing his chin towards Gojo in question.
Gojo shrugs. “The training grounds are available right now,” he offers. “Don’t go crazy without me, alright?”
Todo bows at the waist, nearly smacking his forehead against Gojo’s knees. “Thank you, Gojo-san! We will spend our time together productively!”
“I’m sure you will,” Gojo says dismissively. He turns towards Itadori and his anxious eyes, leaning close. “Just have fun, okay?”
Itadori nods as Gojo sits himself up straight again, grinning. When he stands, Gojo claps.
“Great!” he exclaims. “Have fun, you two!”
“So,” Todo says boisterously as he and Itadori walk away from them down the hallway to the left, his hands on his hips and his chin up high, “what sort of woman is your type?”
Itadori shrinks a bit, trailing a few steps behind him. “I haven’t given it much thought….”
“You must appreciate some part of the human female!”
“Uh….”
“Don’t worry about them,” Tsukumo says, taking Itadori’s seat on Gojo’s left.
Gojo smiles pleasantly. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
She barks out a laugh. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, leaning backwards to get more comfortable. Tsukumo sighs. “Aoi’s a good kid, y’know? So your vessel isn’t gonna have any trouble as long as he’s around.”
“You mean he could beat Sukuna?”
“I didn’t say that,” Tsukumo says, smiling. “But he’s got a sound enough head to make sure things never get to that point.”
Gojo hums. “And if he doesn’t have a choice?”
“He’s got a sound enough head to run and get help when he knows he can’t win, too.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a good kid there,” Gojo says, leaning to the right with his chin resting on the back of his hand.
“You’re right, I do,” Tsukumo says. “And it sounds like yours has got himself into quite the pickle.”
He’s not my kid. “You’re right, he has,” he says, echoing her sentiment. “So you’ve looked into things on your end?”
“Sure,” Tsukumo says before groaning. “Man, researching the soul sure is exhausting. If only I had a highly blessed, infinitely incomprehensible research subject to fiddle with….”
“Hard no,” Gojo says, fighting back a smile. “Itadori is completely off limits.”
Tsukumo barks out a laugh, leaning forward to hold her stomach. “I wasn’t talking about—Oh, Satoru, you sly dog.”
Gojo hums, content with her flustering. “Well? Have you found anything in your fiddling?”
“Yeah, actually,” she says through dying chuckles before resigning herself to leaning her elbows on her knees, practically half-slouching over the bench seat. “You remember the failed merger?”
Gojo turns, already glaring, to level her with the harshest expression he can muster.
Tsukumo throws up her hands in mock surrender before resting her arms back on her knees. “Man, you can not take a joke, can you?”
“Hah-hah,” Gojo says. “So? What about it?”
“Itadori is a vessel. Sukuna is essentially a cursed spirit.” Tsukumo turns towards him sharply. “It’s essentially like Tengen’s progression—What do you do when you’ve got a tumor slowly killing you?”
He furrows his brow. “...Cut it out.”
She raises her brow. “Or…?”
“Or suppress it?”
“Exactly! So, you’ve got two options here.” Tsukumo lists them on her fingers. “One: You can find a way to cut Sukuna out of Itadori’s soul. Or two: You can find a way to kill him from the inside.”
Gojo hums, holding his chin. “So, poison the roots or pull out the weed?”
“Presicely!” She snaps.
“But how do we cut his soul away without injuring Itadori’s? Or, if we went the poison route, how can we be sure that it won’t poison Itadori as well?”
Tsukumo shrugs. “Dunno. But it’s something to think about, isn’t it?”
Gojo hums. “Have you figured out how we could even do either of them?”
“Of course I have. Who do you take me for, a novice?” Tsukumo scoffs. “I’ve been researching this stuff since before you were born.”
Gojo rolls his eyes. “So enlighten me.”
“Do you still have that inverted spear?”
Gojo squints at her. “I destroyed that thing. You know that.”
Tsukumo sighs forlornly. “I know. I just wanted to hear you say it so that I could say that I was right and you were wrong.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, to put it simply, that spear and the black rope—the only tools powerful enough to break through your Infinity—are two of the only tools able to sever souls as well.”
Gojo crosses his arms. “And your point is?”
Tsukumo sighs, shaking her head. She raises her eyes to Gojo’s and blinks slowly. “In attempting to create a safer world for yourself to live in, you’ve basically doomed your vessel friend.”
Gojo hesitates, “There’s got to be another way to save him.”
“Sure,” she says, shrugging. “Make that poison. Kill the whole dang weed.”
“But how?”
“I don’t know,” Tsukumo answers honestly. “I’m sorry, Satoru. I really don’t know—but do you know who might?”
Gojo sighs. “Who?” he asks dejectedly.
Tsukumo grins impishly. “Tengen.”
Gojo groans, tossing his head against the back of the bench. “No,” he whines. “Please tell me there’s someone else—anyone else?”
Tsukumo chuckles. “Unfortunately not.”
“But,” Gojo says, looking at her whilst batting his eyelashes, “as my super awesome, uber powerful, very beautiful senior, you’ll join me, won’t you?”
Tsukumo stands, beaming. “Nice try, kid,” she says, “but you’re at least fifteen years past that expression looking cute. It just ain’t right for a grown man to pout like that.”
Gojo groans. “Please go with me. I’m begging here!”
“Just take your vessel friend,” Tsukumo says, waving her hand dismissively. “He’ll need to hear all she has to say eventually anyway, won’t he?”
“You’re my vessel friend,” Gojo points out.
Tsukumo tosses her head back, laughing so loudly it echoes down both adjacent halls. “Oh man, you crack me up, Gojo Satoru,” she says, wiping tears from her eyes. “I am not a vessel.” She peers down at him, brown eyes like precarious stalagmites high above him. “And we are not friends.”
Part Five
[THE DIARY, Cont.]
Entry #42
I talked to Tengen. She didn’t have much to tell me that I didn’t already discuss with Yuki—Yes, we should be figuring out how to kill Sukuna; yes, we should be figuring out how to poison him from the inside. Blah, blah, blah.
But then she comes up with this: Deploying the Death Paintings. Old age must really be getting to her. I’ve never heard such a batty idea since you, Suguru. It’s insane. What, we’ll just unseal a glass jar and see what happens? They don’t even have full-grown bodies, or at least adolescent ones. What the heck is a prenatal curse supposed to do against the King of Curses sealed in a vessel?
………
Entry #43
I talked to Tengen again for an explanation. I diagnose her with CRAZY! What sort of idiot would suggest having a vessel eat. EAT! a Death Painting?! What the heck?! Sure, he could handle consuming Sukuna, but at what cost? I’ve seen Yuuji’s recent wardrobe change. He isn’t eating enough as it is—probably in some sort of silent protest… I’ll talk to him about it later—and Sukuna probably isn’t helping.
Here’s an unborn embryo, kid! Eat up!
LIKE HECK I’ll let that happen. Tengen is insane. This is insane! There’s got to be another idea other than: Oh, well, their blood has been tested and it turns out it's poisonous to curses AND humans, so just have this VERY HUMAN BOY swallow one to kill the curse inside him and probably himself, too! It’ll solve all of your problems, Gojo Satoru! You’ll never have to see my face again, Gojo Satoru! You’ll never have to face your past ever again, Gojo Satoru! Aren’t you the strongest, Gojo Satoru? Are you acting like the strongest, Gojo Satoru? Was the boy not destined to die anyway?
Tengen’s stupid voice makes me want to grate my nails into my ears.
………
Entry #47
Yuuji got an audience with Tengen, that rat. She told him about her plan and he agreed.
He agreed?! Yuuji wants to eat a Cursed Womb to maybe kill Sukuna from the inside out. Oh, yeah, just expect me to sit here and watch him kill himself. What a great idea.
In the end, he’s made his decision. I’ve already tried and failed to get him to change his mind.
Whatever. Nobody ever listens to me anyway.
………
Entry #48
He didn’t die. I don’t understand.
Suguru, you didn’t hear this from me, but I’m scared as to what that means.
We don’t need another you.
…No offense.
Part Six
[BRANCHING VEINS]
Gojo finds his son propped against the wall outside of Yuuji’s room. It’s a simple sentiment of boundaries, not sitting within Yuuji’s personal space while his door is closed.
It’s a sentiment Gojo Satoru himself might have overlooked during his time as a student here. Teleporting from Point A to Point B will make the purposefulness of respecting time alone more difficult. He never had a reason to knock or twist a handle.
“I take it he’s still sleeping?” Gojo asks, staring at Yuuji’s bedroom door as though to peer through the grain.
“Yeah,” Megumi says quietly, uncrossing and recrossing his arms over his chest. “Two days.”
Gojo hums acceptingly. “But he isn’t dead.”
“I guess so….”
Gojo moves his head to look his son in the eyes. “He didn’t tell you about this, did he?”
Megumi scoffs. “That he’d be eating a Cursed Womb? No, it must’ve not come up in conversation.”
Gojo pats him on the top of the head, grinning when Megumi scowls at the action. “Try not to be too upset with him, alright? He’s going through a lot right now.”
“Sure, a lot,” Megumi echoes, reaching up to shove Gojo’s hand off of his hair. “A lot that I don’t know about.” He glares at Gojo expectantly.
Gojo laughs dryly. “Dang. I haven’t seen that look for a while.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“I dunno,” Gojo says sing-songy. “It isn’t exactly my story to tell, y’know? I would hate it if Itadori woke up mad with me ‘cause I spilled the beans.”
Megumi shoves him lightly. “Just spit it out,” he says, very nearly growling. “He’s dying, isn’t he?”
“Well,” Gojo says, somehow soothingly, “that has always been the plan.”
“That’s not what I meant. Just—Why now? Why did he have to eat a Death Painting, to make himself feel better? I don’t understand.”
I don’t either. Gojo sighs. “I’m sure he’ll explain everything to you when he wakes up,” he says. “I have a couple of questions for him myself.”
Megumi squints at him again. “But you won’t kill him,” he asks, but it sounds more like a statement.
“He hasn’t eaten Sukuna’s twentieth finger, has he?” Gojo asks in return.
“No,” Megumi says, turning back towards the door when he hears quiet rustling. “At least, I don’t think so.”
………
“So… this is Chousou!” Itadori exclaims, holding up jazz hands on either side of his face.
Gojo and Megumi look back and forth between his right eye and his left, noting how his left one is darker in hue than usual. That eye flicks to the side to avoid contact with their own, but Itadori’s right one remains looking forward.
“Eugh,” Gojo says in reply, reaching out to shake Itadori’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“And you as well, sorcerer,” says Chousou with Itadori’s mouth.
Nobody says anything for a little while, the five of them simply figuring out how to proceed without causing a ruckus. At least Sukuna isn’t actively trying to fight off his superimposed roommate.
“This is weird,” Megumi says dryly, his hands in loose fists in his pockets. He turns towards Gojo. “It’s weird.”
Gojo nods, retracting his hand from Itad—Chousou’s? …Whatever—ori’s with a grin. “It is!”
“Don’t be mean, guys,” Itadori says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Chousou can’t help looking so weird without his own body.”
“You’re the weird-looking one,” Megumi retorts, rolling his eyes. “And what’s with that mark on your nose, anyway?”
Chousou grins using Itadori’s teeth. “Blood manipulation is the Kamo Clan’s coveted technique, and as my brothers and I have inherited this ability, I thought it convenient enough to supply myself with easy access to my cursed blood—an idea that has manifested itself upon my brother’s flesh—”
“...brother?” Megumi whispers, his brows furrowed with confusion. He looks at Gojo who simply shrugs in reply.
“Yes, my brother,” Chousou says proudly, propping his arm onto his hip. “Yuuji and I share the same… father…. You do know of Kamo Noritoshi, do you not?”
Gojo raises his brows in shock. “That Kamo?” he asks, sounding disgusted. “Yuuji’s related to him, too?”
“Yes—”
“No,” Itadori interjects, poking at his own cheek to stop Chousou from talking. “I didn’t spend much time with my parents, but I at least know who they were: Jin and Kaori, not Noritoshi. And I’m not from any clan. Chousou’s just delusional.”
Chousou furrows his brow. “I am not delusional.”
Itadori nods grimly. “He’s delusional.”
“We ate spaghetti together!”
“Anyways,” Itadori says before clearing his throat with his fist in front of his mouth, “I’m sure you have questions—”
“Yeah,” Megumi says, “I do. Why didn’t you tell me about all of this?”
Itadori laughs sheepishly. “Well—”
“No, scratch that,” Megumi interrupts. “Did eating the Cursed Womb let you accomplish whatever it was you wanted to do?”
Gojo watches Itadori’s anxious grin as it slides and twists downward into something sadder, something quieter, like the final smile Suguru gave him before disappearing from sight.
“Not exactly.” He continues, quieter, “But I’m working on it.”
Dang it.
Part Seven
[THE DIARY, Cont.]
Entry #51
So, Yuuji is crazy. He isn’t that sort of crazy that any good sorcerer needs, though.
He’s just off his rocker.
I got a call from Ijichi that Yuuji told him to drive to Aomori—that’s pretty far from here, but you knew that already—without any explanation as to why. Just “Get me there”. Weird.
And then, he tells me that Yuuji threw a girl in the back of the car and told him to peel out of there.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, I hear the two kids laughing maniacally. They’re both insane. Not your level of insane, Suguru, don’t be jealous.
…Although, they’re working up to it.
Stupid Yaga told me to keep an eye on her for the time being. I don’t know what sort of joke that guy’s trying to pull, but it isn’t a very funny one.
………
Entry #52
Her name is Kugisaki Nobara and I think these kids are going to kill me. No, I’m not exaggerating, Satoru, blah, blah, blah. They’ve been researching the flipping Prison Realm!
I don’t understand what’s going on.
………
Entry #53
Yuuji just asked about Nanamin. Not my past classmates, not Nanami Kento, not even the record holder for the number of Black Flashes in a row. Nanamin. I call him that. Who the heck else knows about it that’s actually still alive?!
………
Entry #57
Yuuji says he’s from the future. I don’t believe him.
………
Entry #60
Okay, what the heck. I’ll believe him… for now.
………
Entry #82
I won’t be able to write for a while, so just watch over me if you want to. Also, don’t worry your pretty little head about little ole me, alright Suguru?
I’ll get your body back, and then everything will go back to normal.
……
Entry #84
Your imposter found the finger.
Once again, Sukuna came running.
Part Eight
[THE END]
“I’m sorry, Yuuji.”
The boy just smiles. “I know.”
Gojo breathes in deeply, releasing the air in a shaky exhale. “It doesn’t have to be me, you know. It can be someone—anyone—else if you… you know. If you’d prefer to see a happier face before you die.”
“No, no,” Itadori says, shaking his head. “This is fine.”
“Okay,” Gojo says, clearing his throat. “Is there anything else you’d like to say before, uh….”
“Just one thing,” Itadori interrupts, his teeth pearly and his body thrashing. Sukuna must be livid. “Next time, I want to live peacefully.”
Gojo furrows his brows. “...Next time?”
“Thanks for everything, sensei.”
Gojo bristles. “I’m not–” He deflates. “You’re welcome, Yuuji. …Is that all?”
“Yeah. Look out for Megumi and Nobara for me, will you?”
“Sure thing, kid.” He sniffs harshly. “And for the record, I’m sorry we couldn’t find another way.”
“It’s okay,” Itadori says. “I was always meant to die, remember? I’ve been waiting for this moment for quite a while.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Gojo sighs. “Bye, Yuuji.”
“So long, sensei.”
Part Nine
[THE DIARY, Cont.]
Entry #100
Yuuji’s gone, but I won’t stop searching.
I’ll make sure you get a proper death if it’s the last thing I do. Just wait and see, Suguru.
I'll put that imposter in his place in the dirt.