Under the Overpass ~ SatoSugu

Chapter 13

The water ran until it turned frigid cold. It caused the fine hairs on his back to stand up straight. He leaned an arm against the still warm tile, unsure if what ran were tears or what was from the shower.

He didn't understand how he could be thinking such things, but worse was that he didn't feel bad about it. It made sense, and to everyone else, he must be going insane.

For the first time, Gojo was untouchable to Geto. An invisible wall stood high between them.

But for the first time in months, he was thinking clearly. Nobody could understand, not even Satoru. His life was handed to him on a bejeweled gold platter. A godly status from the moment he was born. Geto knew that being such wasn't what everyone cracked it up to be, but he better knew how much he loathed consuming curse after curse. That it somehow made him "special" made him feel sick. That he was somehow "better" than others for it made no sense when it was so wretched. And that was where he and Gojo would be fundamentally opposites.

He didn't bother to tie his hair after it dried. He was at battle with himself. Dark eyes had lost their brown highlights. His mouth was dry and coarse to swallow. A five o'clock shadow cast over his face.

He ventured home from the school but made a detour along the way.

The cemetery felt comforting. Like none of the souls there could ridicule his plan. He found Riko's stone and sent a silent prayer. It didn't come easily to him, having known a god personally, but it was more difficult when paired with the intrusive thoughts his mind began to spin.

When he opened his eyes and saw the lines of graves, all he could think was that his parents should be in the same space. Worse, he was only half appalled by the thought.

He went back to his new apartment, which doesn't quite feel like a home even with the material objects. It smells of tea and he's there so little that cups cover the drains in the kitchen and bathroom sinks to avoid anything crawling in or out. He has incense at the ready to be burned and to anyone else, the place looked immensely calming.

There's a yoga mat, water purifier, and memorable photos he'd printed in the main floor space. Just to the side of which; an uncomfortable couch. Besides that, a single bedroom and cramped bathroom made up the majority of the rest.

He didn't bother to neatly hang his uniform, not caring about whether or not it creased. He used to care so much about those sorts of things. They all seemed so trivial now.

Gojo wondered why his texts weren't being received. Or rather, why he wasn't receiving any replies. He texted Shoko, who said succinctly that she hardly sees him anymore, let alone talks to him. She says that day after day he's out on a mission. She figured he was just busy.

You and I both, Suguru. But Gojo worried. He knew the toll just one curse had on him. How he couldn't eat. The subsequent nausea and fatigue. How all of those combine and make for a nasty concoction on the mind. Having them day after day sounded like disaster waiting to strike.

"Yoo-hoo!" A straw blonde girl with a muscular physique stopped him.

"Do I know you?" Geto raised his head from his lap and she lost her breath, a hand over her heart in disbelief.
"Ah. You're that not-so-special, special grade. Aren't you?" He asked monotonously.

"Oy!" She sat beside him, crossing well-defined arms across her chest.  She had a determination not to be bested, and he could tell. "Say, Geto isn't it? What's your type in women?"

He turned his head, squinting at her, seeming to avoid the question like a plague.

"C'mon," she begged, "Busty? Or do you prefer a more petite, models figure? Oh! Or a big ass instead?!"

He sighed, aggravated. "It's not really my area."

She wasn't sure how to take that and dropped trying.

"What are you doing here?" He finally asked, just wanting to be left alone.

"Came to check on you, actually." She moved her bangs.

"You don't even know me, I don't need you checking in on me. Who sent you?" He clasped his hands in his lap, sitting back against the window.

"I know, I know. But I think I know a bit about what's bothering you." She answered confidently. "A little bird sent me."

"Yeah? I'd like to see you try." He wasn't in the mood for such antics.

"Yeah. I may not be as famous as you and Gojo, but I have goals too. I want a world without curses."

His interest was piqued. "That's impossible."

"Is it?" She explained her thoughts on the matter

Cut it off at the source. It makes perfect sense. Geto thanked her for her time, going on a walk after her motorcycle took off to collect his thoughts.
I'll put every last one of them in a grave. Jujutsu sorcerers will be normal people again. There won't be a need for them at all.

Geto pictured a life with normalcy. A fine house with a peaceful garden and pond. No contracting papers, no skills to always perfect. It would have a skylight and large kitchen so he could cook for Gojo.

But then he thought only about Gojo. How he'd have to tell him, and what he'd think of the plan. It didn't matter what he thought. His mind was solidified.

It seemed that covering his friend's face with a blood-soaked white sheet was the nail in the coffin.

"It should have been me. Not him. Fuck. Why him?" Nanami placed a dry washcloth over his eyes, a habit to disallow people to see him cry.

"Nanami," Geto picked up the thrown, metal stool, turning it back upright, "You need to get some rest. Satoru's going to handle it."

"Yeah, well, seems like we should just let him handle everything. If it had been him in the first place, Haibara would still be here." He muttered things under his breath.

Geto knew as much to be true. "Why don't you find Shoko? The two of you could help one another out." Geto urged, knowing she hadn't left her room since it happened. Shoko had really fallen for Haibara's kind soul and sweet face.

A procession was held for his honor, with no more than a dozen people attending. Apparently he had little family. Gojo had been so busy, so shackled, that he missed the funeral.

He came back the day after and booked it to Geto.

"Suguru..." he noticed the disheveled look and unkempt state he was in. Gojo dropped his bag and hugged him. It wasn't reciprocated, but Geto allowed him as much. His heart beat a little faster. "I should have been there..." Gojo looked at his feet.

"It's not your fault, Satoru." Geto reassured him dimly. "Humanity is the world's darkest animal." Gojo glanced up at him, wondering what was going on in his mind. "It consumes and just keeps eating. It doesn't care about anything else and one day the scales are going to tip. They already are. It won't keep pushing and the hoard of shit that they are will one day harm this planet so much, that humanity will be overridden with curses. They'll become so common, so vile, even now they taste more and more bitter, that all those idiots who can't see them won't even know what's happening and they'll run jujutsu sorcerers into the ground. I'm doing this world a favor."

"What do you mean, doing this world a favor?" Gojo asked sternly.
Geto didn't answer.