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2024-05-25
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How Quickly We Become Prey (I'm With You Always)

Summary:

Spoilers for the manga, especially chapter 236 and 261!

For the first time in almost a decade, Satoru is defenseless and unable to protect himself. And his allies— his friends he’s almost killed himself to protect— are looking at his body like a pack of rabid wolves. Eager to sink their teeth into his spent flesh; mangle what’s left of him.

But they can’t. And they won’t. Because Suguru is here. And the truth is, they’re all afraid of him.

Notes:

So, it's 3am and I've wanted to write something like this for a while now. Basically, I got so pissed off with the characters' treatment of Gojo that since chapter 231/232 I often find myself thinking "wow. if Suguru was here literally nothing of this would have ever happened like wtf". So here it is. A mix of chapters 236 and 261.

In this universe, Geto is still a cult leader, but since Japan got fucked after Shibuya he decided to cooperate with Jujutsu Tech to free Gojo from the Prison Realm and beat Sukuna and Kenjaku (who is possessing another dude's body atp), so that he can return to his silly little murder adventures in peace.

Then they go into battle, and 236 happens, but with a twist.

That being said, I wrote this while grieving heavily so idk I might edit some parts in the future. Who knows. Enjoy and careful for spoilers ahead!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Satoru, just stay with me, alright? Stay with me, don’t fall asleep.”

Suguru tries to keep his voice steady as he speaks; blood soaking his clothes and staining his hands. He has his arm around Satoru’s waist. The latter is breathing in coughs; stuttering; eyes wide and mouth parted in weak whining.

“Suguru…” 

“I know. I know it hurts. It’ll be alright soon, Satoru, you hear me? I’ve got you. Just a few more steps. Shoko will fix you up. You’ve done well. You’ve done so, so well.”

Suguru had barged into the battlefield just in time.

Moving him out of the way before Sukuna’s slash cut him in half, he’d managed to save Satoru from what would have likely been instant death. If Suguru hadn’t acted when he had, Satoru would be cut in half on the ground now. His corpse trampled over in the battle currently unfolding and buried in debris.

Suguru ought to be proud of himself, and he would be— if Satoru wasn’t currently still bleeding on the floor and barely conscious, clinging to Suguru like he was the only thing keeping him alive.

The cut on his lower belly is deep, running from one hipbone to the other; blood gushes out from it like there’s no stopping it, and Suguru feels sick to his stomach. If they’d fought together instead of focusing on different targets to save time— if the others had helped him— if Suguru had finished Kenjaku more quickly— if he hadn’t agreed to go separate ways— if— 

In the end, none of that matters.

Satoru’s life is hanging by a thread, but he’s still breathing next to him; blood stains his chapped lips, and his eyes are unfocused as they look ahead— but he’s still breathing. Still clinging to Suguru and moving one foot after the other. His body is warm against his side, strong even in the most desperate of circumstances, and Suguru will do anything to keep him alive. Anything.

The door to Shoko’s hide-out flings right open as they barge in, and Satoru almost topples over once they set foot in the room. Suguru supports his weight, taking in Satoru’s eyes, now completely void and seemingly unseeing.

“Shoko!” Suguru shouts, panic threatening to choke him on the spot, and he sounds almost pleading; his hands are shaking nonstop now that he knows they’ve gotten to their final destination, and he doesn’t know how to make it better. 

Shoko rushes in with a few of her assistants, guiding Suguru with Satoru in his arms to the tables in gray steel. They’re the ones that can be found in morgues, Suguru notices, and as he helps Satoru lay down on the cold surface, he can’t get Haibara’s face out of his head.

If Satoru dies, this is the last room he will have ever set foot in. These are the last people he’ll have ever seen. If he dies, Suguru will be the last person he will have ever spoken with.

He feels like throwing up.

“Geto, move to the other side.”

Suguru obeys Shoko without really thinking; his eyes fixed on the rise of Satoru’s chest.

Satoru will be saved. He will be. He’s still breathing, after all. Tremors shake his body, and his jaw has gone slack, mouth agape and breath shallow— but he is breathing. Suguru takes his hand in his own, and Satoru squeezes it lightly; probably just an instinctual response, but the feeling grounds him— comforts him, even in such a hopeless situation.

Shoko will fix him. She will get him back together. She has to. They’ll be okay. 

“Geto.”

Suguru turns towards Shoko, somewhat still hesitant to let Satoru out of his sight. Shoko seems uncertain on how to approach the scene, like she doesn’t want to move any closer to them. 

Satoru’s blood is dripping on the floor. She still doesn’t move.

It lasts a second, but the helplessness that flashes across her face for a moment tears his heart apart.

“Shoko, hurry up… he’s…” Suguru chokes out. “He’s still breathing— you can save him, right? You have to.”

Satoru’s hand is still firm and solid in his own, but it’s slowly losing its warmth. Suguru feels it diminishing little by little, and it’s terrifying. Gojo Satoru is fading right before his very eyes, and no one is doing anything to help; everyone sort of frozen a few meters away from him. Keeping their distance from both of them for a reason unknown to him.

No one speaks. Satoru’s shallow breaths fill the room.

They’re wasting time.

“Shoko!”

“Geto, you need to leave.”

Shoko’s cold voice snaps him out of his spiraling.

“What?”

“You need to leave.” She repeats, moving to put her gloves and mask on. “I need to start working on him. You’re in the way.”

Shoko has always been methodical with the way she prepares for any kind of surgery or treatment. She’s surgical at it, and her face never betrays any emotion. She’s cold, professional, detached, straightforward; no time to beat around the bush. It’s something that Suguru used to admire when they were younger; the way she seemed to be above all the tribulations and mess that weigh on the common person, and especially on sorcerers.

Now, her attitude just unnerves him.

“What do you mean ‘in the way’? I can help. Utahime can, too. We can help boost your technique. We can—" he rambles, but Shoko just stares at him. Everyone in the room is silent and watching.

“Suguru, you need to leave.” She repeats for the third time, and that’s when it hits him.

Shoko doesn’t want Utahime to leave. Or the kids. Or any other adult in the room. Everyone else can stay.

She just wants Suguru to leave. Him and him alone.

For a moment, he’s stunned into silence.

“Shoko, I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. I fought Kenjaku, I gave you his cursed spirit— I just want to make sure he’s alright. I won’t ask for anything else. Just— just please, help him. He’s bleeding out— Satoru— I just want you to help him.”

Shoko furrows her brows in distress for a moment. “I know.” She says, but she doesn’t add anything else. As if meaning, that’s the whole problem.

She doesn’t seem to think Suguru will interfere in Satoru’s procedure— which would have been stupid, anyway. No matter how deranged his life path had become, Shoko more than anyone else has always known just how much Satoru means to him. Hell, she was there, all throughout those three years, so why does she want him to leave the room of all people? What doesn’t she trust him with, when it comes to Satoru? 

Options as to why Shoko wouldn’t want him in the room spiral in his head, and as the only plausible reason slowly sinks in, Suguru feels his heart grow cold. A mix of dread and anger and disbelief takes root in Suguru’s chest, smothering grief, and he has to force himself to stay calm— at least, until he’s made sure that’s really it.

So, he speaks. Voice steady. A simple question.

“You don’t want to heal him, do you?”

There’s silence in the room.

Satoru is still holding his hand weakly. Shoko just stares at him.

She doesn’t move.

That’s confirmation enough.

“We need to hurry up, ma’am. Kashimo-san won’t hold out for long against Sukuna.” One of Shoko’s assistants approaches them from the sidelines. “Sir—” he addresses Suguru once he’s a few steps away from him.

As his hand goes to grab Satoru’s wrist to part the two of them, though, Suguru feels something snap inside of himself.

A massive black snake-shaped curse manifests itself between the man and the two strongest sorcerers, positively throwing the guy on the other side of the room. The curse settles with his massive head next to Satoru, tail circling both Suguru and Satoru in protectiveness with its fangs showing, and Suguru turns his head around to glare at the crowd behind him.

“Any of you lay a hand on Satoru and that’ll be the last thing you ever do”

No one dares to speak. A few kids take a step backwards; Kusakabe swallows, cowering; the one kid Suguru fought on the parade of a hundred demons – Yuta Okkotsu – places his hand on the hilt of his katana, but he doesn’t unsheathe it. He’s sweating in anxiety, and his pupils shake in the brown of his eyes.

Even so, no one leaves the room. They stay, and they watch the scene unfold with their heart in their throat, and, right then, Suguru understands.

Suddenly, it’s crystal clear.

They’re all in on it.

Whatever they’re waiting to happen, whatever they want to do to Satoru, they can’t do it if Suguru is here. Shoko probably warned them beforehand that he wouldn’t allow it— they probably even hoped he’d take longer fighting Kenjaku. But instead, he’s here; the weak body of his best friend on full display at his side, and wolves foaming at the mouth before him. Beasts, acting like cute, innocent little lambs. Dogs, just waiting for the green light to feast.

Something ugly twists in his chest.

It’s always like this. The higher ups, adults, kids, strangers— always wanting something from them; something that right now, in the state he’s in, Satoru can’t even give; something that, if he can’t give willingly, will be taken by force.

But no one will get close to Satoru like this. None of them will. Not as long as Suguru is here. 

For the first time in almost a decade, Satoru is defenseless and unable to protect himself. And for whatever reason, his allies— his friends that he trusts and has almost killed himself to protect— are looking at his body like a pack of rabid animals. Eager to sink their teeth into his spent flesh; mangle what’s left of him.

The fate of a sorcerer. A marathon game.

But they can’t. And they won’t. Because Suguru is here. And the truth is, they’re all afraid of him.

A special grade sorcerer and curse user who is second only to Gojo Satoru in raw strength. The one who has just defeated a millennia-old curse who had reduced their lines to shreds in Shibuya, and even after that.

“Geto—"

“Shoko, you better give me an explanation that I can accept. Now.”

Shoko pauses, then sighs tiredly, sweat starting to form on her forehead.

“We have a back-up plan, and we need to go through with it. We can’t lose any more time.” She explains.

“What back-up plan? He’s already in this state— and you still want him to fight? Or, what, are you going to experiment on him? Tell me, Shoko, what is it that you all seem so set on doing? Because your priorities look all kind of fucked up right now.” 

“It doesn’t matter, Suguru. What matters is that it will save everyone.”

“I don’t care about that!” he snarls. “Satoru almost got himself killed for you and you’re still thinking of ways to use him instead of helping him! I don’t care about ‘saving everyone’!”

Shoko sighs, her patience suddenly wearing thin. “Geto, try to be rational for a single second—"

“Gojo-sensei consented.” Someone speaks from the sidelines, and Suguru notices it’s Yuta Okkotsu once again. The kid Satoru put himself on the line for, way before the fight against Sukuna even took place. “He wanted to save us all, and he consented to it. He wants to do this, Geto-san. Denying him his last wish— wouldn’t that be cruel?”

Last wish.

Last wish.

But Satoru isn’t dead yet, is he?

Satoru is still clutching his hand. Holding on for dear life.

Cruel?

To speak of him as if he’s already gone… isn’t that cruel?

Suguru looks at Satoru’s face, his eyes closed and blood drained from his cheeks. His breath is uneven. His lips are dry.

Satoru has never been one to consider his own well-being. He’s always been reckless, proud, confident to a fault. For those three years of their youth, Suguru has always taken care of him in his stead. Staying with him when things got tough; covering his back; warning him not to eat too many sweets; praising him on a job well done.

For those three years of their youth, they’d cared for each other, in the rawest way possible. They’d been each other’s pillar, each other’s strength, and even now— reuniting once again after years of no contact, Satoru had felt safe enough to bare his soul to him. Share his troubles, confess his guilt. For everything that had happened in Shibuya; for all the deaths that could have been prevented; for going back on his ideals, killing the higher ups.

I want to make up for my mistakes. he'd said. I want to fix this any way I can.

For his weakness— and his strength, somehow precluding him from ever getting close to people he still held dear.

People, other than Geto Suguru. His one and only best friend.

That will never change, you hear me? Never.  

Suguru had patted him on his back before the final battle. He'd given his encouragement, and Satoru had looked so happy over it— so, genuinely bright—

Suguru looks in the eyes of each of the kids in the room; he looks at Kusakabe, Utahime and the few adults he doesn’t even know. His eyes move onto Shoko, the girl turned woman who he’s known since he was in high school; the one who has been his friend for even longer than Satoru has ever been. One of the few he’s never resented, and that has never spoken against him.

Somehow, right now, she looks like a stranger in his eyes.

Satoru’s hand twitches suddenly, and his hold tightens on Suguru’s fingers for a moment— maybe in a fit of pain; maybe in a weak call for Suguru’s attention. Suguru turns to find him still with his eyes closed, breath labored. His heart clenches.

Satoru, did you really want this?

Of course, no answer comes.

But Suguru knows, now. No matter anyone's thoughts on the topic— there’s no one in this room that matters more to him than the weight of Satoru’s hand in his own.

“Heal him, Shoko.” he says, for the umpteenth time today, but his voice is stronger now. Steadier. “I’ll boost your technique. Utahime will help, too.” behind them, Utahime jumps slightly when mentioned, and Shoko frowns at his words.

"Geto—"

He doesn’t care about Satoru's 'consent'. He doesn't care if Satoru wouldn’t approve of his methods. He doesn’t care if Satoru will feel disrespected by his choice, or if he’ll get angry at him. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

He just wants to save him.

“You heal him. Or I swear I’m not above killing everyone in this room this very moment. It's your choice.”

The silence is staggering in the room. No one moves. No one speaks.

On the table, Satoru wheezes shallowly, a low whine escaping his throat. The snake at his side hisses.

“Shoko, hurry up.”

Shoko still doesn’t move. “Healing him will take a lot of time, and I can’t even heal him to full capacity. He won't be able to fight. That means we’ll just be wasting precious hours I’m not sure we even have, and we’ll have way less chances than planned against Sukuna. You understand that, right?”

“I promise Sukuna will be the least of your worries if you don’t heal him right now.”

Shoko listens. She seems to analyze his face for a few seconds; gauging his resolve.

In the end, she closes her eyes, apparently having found her answer. She sighs. “Okay, okay. Hell, I don’t want to die. Everyone, out. I only need Utahime with me, and the assistants. And Ijichi. Call Ijichi too.” She instructs quickly, setting a few tools in the right position and waiting until everyone is gone to address Geto. “You can stay if you want. But keep the snake out of it. This will take a while.” 

The snake vanishes immediately with a flick of Suguru’s wrist.

They all get to work right away.

Notes:

AAAAAND Gojo survived and Sukuna died and they lived happily ever after. Even if I think Geto and Shoko's relationship would remain slightly fractured after this. Hell, MY relationship with shoko is fractured. Wtf girl.

Leave kudos and/or a comment if you enjoyed this! And also if you want to talk about the new chapter :| gege when i catch you istg

On another note, tell me if there's a specific scene of the recent chapters you'd like to see Suguru in. I like imagining him being there, making it easier for Satoru to just— exist. Sharing the load. I'm so sad about how everything is going that it's not even funny tbh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You all have a nice day though and still thank you for reading<3<3