Under the Overpass ~ SatoSugu

Chapter 17

Screaming ensued from the both of them, a somehow higher pitched one emanating from Gojo than the small boy.

"HOW DO I PUT IT AWAY?!" The boy's hands remained clasped tight in fear.

Gojo looked over and reached to undo them and in an instant, the manifestations had flicked away.

The two looked at one another and Gojo removed his blindfold.

Megumi, who had stopped screaming, resumed again, "WHY ARE YOUR EYES GLOWING?"

Gojo quickly recovered them, forgetting that small fact about himself, and apologized while now laughing wildly.

When he finally settled he went on to explain; "So that would be one of your Divine Dogs. You've got the Ten Shadows technique, hooray!" He pumped fists into the air in an odd dance.

"Would you stop that?" The boy started to frown, but along with it this time came tears of an overwhelming sensation.

"Whoa hey- I didn't think my dancing was that bad." Gojo stammered around the room like a chicken with its head cut off till he collected feasible art supplies to better explain.

"So... there's gonna be two dogs?" Megumi sniffled.

"Yep!"

"I don't like dogs..." He twirled his fingers in his lap, sitting upright to better view Gojo's elementary explanation. It wasn't elementary in the information, but his drawings of dogs and everything else were abhorrently bad.

To Megumi, however, the drawings were surprisingly cute, almost cartoon-like in nature to his childish mind.

"These dogs could only ever help you. Maybe one day you'll even love them as much as they love you!"

Though absurd to have thought when he was little, Megumi grew up inside that apartment more often than not, outside of school and before transferring to Tokyo's Jujutsu High that is, and eventually not only one but both of the twin hounds snuggled up by him in bed every night.

Gojo, though a questionable parental figure, made for a top-notch mentor. Geto, though an understanding and loving caregiver, was not so much a teacher. Though he did try, he found it hard to relate to any other techniques besides the cruelty that came with his own.

"Everything gets easier with practice, so be mindful of what it is you give your time to!" Gojo parried around Megumi in training, sensing how strong he had yet to become. Yet not a day passed without thinking of the man he'd loved. The man he did love. It hadn't gone.

Yet he vowed never to let a similar case come from or for the Jujutsu world again, and that started with him and his passion for teaching anyone else he could.

With the years, Megumi had grown into his ears like a puppy does, and though he'd never admit it, styled his hair the same way Gojo had at his age. It was crazy to think a decade had passed. He opened the slim wallet he carried and for whatever reason, was possessed to unfold a small crayon drawing which had seen age as everyone else had too.

Megumi exhaled in laughter through his nose, just a small smile on his face as he put it back, noticing the cold rain that verged on a wispy snow, falling, and spritzing a dampness onto the page.

"Does my hair look bad from the back? Why are you giggling?" Gojo, who walked a few paces ahead of him asked, carrying many grocery bags.

"It's nothing." Megumi rolled his eyes, still smiling internally.

That evening, Gojo sat looking out at a setting sun, which was not so much colorful as it tended to be in summer. He wondered, as he usually did when dusk hit the horizon, thinking, pondering, hoping, reminiscing. It was cold and blue outside beyond the high window. The sky couldn't make up its mind whether or not it wanted to let down a sheet of snow while everyone tucked away to bed.

As a distraction, Gojo began skimming through old photos. "Fuck I'd forgotten about those sunglasses-" he felt himself choke up and let the phone sag into the bed's blanket, but it buzzed a moment later. He looked and saw it incoming from Yaga.

His heart lurched and he called the now principal, concealing a shake in his voice somewhat poorly. "What the actual hell do you mean?"

"I mean we need you to be there. To see him."

"Why." His voice shook with an undertone of both fear and anger.

"Because you're his weakness, Gojo, and because you match wits and skill with him."

Gojo clicked it off without saying another word.

When the day arose, the rest of the world was in holiday bliss. Baking cookies, ice skating, proposing, kissing under mistletoe, opening gifts. All things Gojo had wanted to do with Geto and all that Geto had wanted to do with Gojo. They just never told each other as much.

Gojo had found himself muttering, laughing almost, at the fact he took more care and time into his appearance that morning. Why, he wondered. Why when he doesn't deserve such a thing do I still care about how he sees me? What a dick.

He concealed as much of his eyes and expected expressions as he could with a blindfold and added slightly more cologne than usual. Yet another small touch he scoffed at himself for doing.

The wait was agonizing and Gojo tried not to pace. He knew he'd make his entrance later on, it was all part of the plan, but much of his mind knew there was a chance this was the end for him. He felt over and over that he hadn't tried hard enough, done enough, could have stopped it. But part of him would still try to bring him back.

"Satoru, long time no see, huh?" Geto wore an almost smug smile as he turned like he knew the damage he'd done to the eyes behind that mask. Yet it was his own façade too, as to not look weak. That smile was his own blindfolding force.

Gojo noticed the years had taken a toll on Suguru. His eyes carried deep divots of dark age beneath them and stress seemed to lash itself all over. After all, he'd lost a lot of hope. Part of Geto had expected Gojo to come back. After all those years, he held onto that inkling of possibility.

"A 'gojo-kesa?' Really?" Gojo looked on at the costume-ish monk robes Geto wore and his nostrils flared, "You really are pathetic." He was determined not to look weak and could tell that hit his opponent deeply. Geto's hair was longer and much thicker, the discs in his ears had been expanded.

Everyone else looked on at the two, feeling a heavyweight in the air that was strong enough to be cut through with a knife.