Chapter Text
He has a plan.
Satoru Gojo has the greatest plan of all time.
The type of plan that rips apart the universe only to build it anew with his rules.
A plan for a God, a madman, or a fool.
When exactly did it start?
Maybe it was when he found Heaven’s Gate. No… even if he had never found it, he would have undoubtedly found another way. The plan had begun long before that. Heaven’s Gate was merely one of infinite paths. He would carve a means out of the universe if he needed to.
So when was it then?
“That’s a terrible idea.” A middle-aged sorcerer pipes up from across the room. A wary scrunch to his aged face.
“Wow, I’m surprised we're still talking about this.” A young woman, some fresh Grade 1 Sorcerer, joins in.
“Are you sure they didn’t mean to ask someone else?”
“Maybe we should start a petition.”
“I guess there are worse ideas - I can’t think of any right now, but probably.”
“It’s not so bad.”
“Yeah, but it’s not good either.”
A flurry of more nays quickly arise from all sides of the Reception Hall - well, its remnants. He hardly recognizes it now. What used to be a museum of priceless Gojo artifacts, now littered with crumpled papers, half-drunk coffee cups, jackets tossed to the ground, and trays of snacks. It’s definitely more akin to a college dorm than a place of esteemed political ceremony.
It had felt abysmally lifeless before. Hours spent kneeling listening to winded decrees. What was the point of it all? Surely the chants at New Years hadn’t made him any stronger. No, he’d done that all on his own.
Now more sorcerers than this room has seen in a decade, it sees in a week. Still, no one could mistake the grounds as anything but Gojo. It would take a long while for all hints to be gone. Though ‘There are memories even in the earth.’ you had said, so maybe it would never be truly forgotten. He looks to his left - a few of the placards of Gojo officials remain, carved into old wood, pinned on the walls. Maybe there was even a secret scroll or two hidden around the rafters for some adventurous soul to stumble on. You’d contributed your fair share of jewels and dried flower petals into some forgotten corner.
Things really can change so fast.
“Ahhh I knew I was Yaga’s favorite~” Satoru gloats, finally responding.
“You want to accept?” Suguru elbows him, miffed, “I thought you’d reject it immediately.”
Gojo, absolutely glowing, chirps back, “Rumi said it would be really hot to have a teacher as a boyfriend!”
There’s a collective groan that echoes across the old wood. Someone even bangs their head against the table.
The youngest boy in the room, still a middle-schooler, pipes up innocently, “Who is Rumi?”
“Don’t get him started -”
“Ever heard of the ‘Master of Flash’ kid?”
“You’ll meet her soon enough, she comes by all the time.”
“Gojo’s shadow -”
Satoru chimes in, “Shadow?? How could you use a dingy word like that to describe the most blindingly beautiful woman in the world??”
“Ugh -”
Gojo continues, “Sparkly, too. Like she’s made of gold. Or coated in diamonds and -”
“She’s the fourth Special Grade.” Sora says, cutting Satoru off. There’s no malice though, as she smiles thoughtfully, “She’s a very kind person.”
The boy nods vigorously in understanding, eyes bright with the possibility of meeting.
“I’ll call her tonight…” Sora says, hoping to wrap up the conversation with that.
“What about you, Suguru? Kusakabe? Literally anyone else?” Utahime chimes in, desperate.
“But he’s already leading The Sorcerer’s Union - and the After School Recruitment program is starting in a couple months!” Yu shouts through a handful of crackers, shooting down the idea of Suguru taking on even more responsibility.
“He’s in a different league than me - it wouldn’t make any sense.” Kusakabe says, realistic.
“Exactly~” Gojo nods in obvious agreement.
“Ugh, I’d do it, but I already accepted my position in Kyoto.” Utahime says.
“It’s not like Yaga offered you the Tokyo position -” Gojo chuckles.
Utahime throws a plate full of grapes at Gojo’s face. “Shut it.”
“Yoshiro? He took down two Grade 1 Cursed Spirits in Korea last year.”
“Ohhh that’s not bad! I worked with him last year!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah!”
“No guys… he got married two weeks ago. IN Korea. To his Korean wife. I don't think he plans to settle anywhere in Japan.”
“Omg, no wonder I haven’t seen him around.”
“Maybe Gojo is the best option then?”
There’s a thoughtful silence as everyone weighs the singular option.
Utahime, a proud Gojo-anti-fan, a hater-to-trump-all-haters, chimes in AGAIN -
“OKAY, what about Kurumi? She’ll have completed all her barriers at the end of the month, so she won’t need to fly out of the country as much. That could work, right?”
“Nah.” Gojo says, not surprising to the group at all anymore as Kurumi’s stand-in voice, “She plans to fully take over Suguru’s missions by the end of the year.”
This does surprise everyone, heads turning swiftly to look at the man in question.
Suguru smiles, “I have more to do here.”
Progress isn’t instant, but it certainly is, in this case, obvious.
There are more active sorcerers enrolled than in the past 10 years.
It’s the first year that numbers have increased, with recruitment outpacing deaths.
A democracy of many voices over a dictatorship of few, taking root.
Children of non-sorcerer families, flocking here to grow and learn.
Not just a refuge, but a resource for families and friends to understand what this secret little world means.
Not to mention better pay, improved healthcare, more thorough reporting for missions, unbiased systems for advancement, he could go on and on.
Change is happening and everyone can see it. Everyone can be a part of it, too.
Suguru, a special grade un-related to any clan, befriending the strongest sorcerers of a generation and moving the world with him in unprecedented ways. Maybe he was The Chosen One all along, Satoru thinks, a small chuckle under his breath as he lingers in the Reception Hall, long after the others have left.
Satoru grabs half of the papers from Suguru’s arms, swatting away Suguru’s hand that tries to carry the full load.
“Really going to make me fight ya over paperwork?" Satoru asks, already pulling out a pen, flicking quickly through the pages. Usually Ijichi would be his first victim of paperwork, but he might be the busiest of all of them with how quickly things are changing.
Suguru chuckles, “Fine, fine. Thought you’d be a bit busier today.”
His brows raise in question.
“It’s tonight, isn’t it?” Suguru follows.
Gojo startles, pen swiping accidentally up the page in a line.
He hadn’t said anything. Not even to Suguru.
“You’re a mess.” Suguru explains, flipping through his own stack of papers.
He would have laughed, boisterous, a quick, mean joke on his tongue. Or he would have turned it around on Suguru, pointing out that it looks like he’s the one who is three nights behind on sleep. He would have done anything not to show his cards - the ones that made him so painfully aware of his humanity.
“Yeah, guess so.” Gojo admits, a soft smile - reserved only for those close - across his face.
Now though, the words come easy. To Suguru, who has been there at his lowest. Who, when he thought you might be lost, hailed all his power to find a way. Who anguished and rejoiced in step with him.
Not just a friend.
A brother.
This time, Suguru looks up in surprise, “Oh? What are you afraid of? Certainly not that she’ll say no -”
Satoru runs an anxious hand through his hair.
Suguru blinks, “Really? She loves you.”
Maybe he can’t help whatever flits across his face, because Suguru leans in, soft tendrils of hair falling loosely in front of his face in examination.
“Ah, so that’s it.” Suguru leans back, traces of humor buried in his response, “You don’t believe love is enough.”
“Is it?” Satoru can’t help the instantaneous reply. He wants it to be - fuck, he needs it to be. But wouldn’t it be so naive to think so - to believe so whole heartedly in some fabricated movie-made dream?
No major clan of the modern age was built on love. There was a reason for that, of course. Power isn’t guaranteed in love. Love didn’t make illness disappear and it certainly didn’t make money appear either! It didn’t save lines - God, he’d certainly see it take more lives on the field than save. Stupid, uncalculated moves, sorcerers running into a battle they couldn’t hope to win for that love.
Though, he could easily say the same for the other side. His parents certainly didn’t love him - they greedily lapped up their new status, never sparing him another care. Even Katai, whose entire existence revolved around his growth, was merely following his duty. Maybe he once thought it was a little love, woven into necessity - but he knows now that wasn’t it at all. Not even close.
It’s not like he’s the type to hold doubts. What use are second-thoughts to The Greatest? He moves with certainty, whether or not it brings calamity. He always has.
It’s his will on the world.
He has the power to do as much.
But then…
That wouldn’t be love.
“Out with it then.” Suguru pushes.
“This isn’t her first life.” Satoru begins. “All those memories, in all those lives.” He sits up straighter, hands waving around in anger, “How many people do you think latched themselves to her when I wasn’t around? Annoying, right? Even now, she has over a hundred different names in her phone! HA! Can’t even fucking imagine how many people crawled on their hands and knees in every era to beg for her attention. Ya really think she was single the whole time? -” He pouts, “AND sometimes, she dreams of them - these looooong, boooooring, utterly useless dreams. As if all of them, in all of those lives, are still important.” What if that’s all I become? Just one important person, from one of many lives. What if that’s what you want?
He must sound pathetic, hopeless even, as something else trickles into his words, “When she wakes, it’s like she’s that other version of her. The one that never chose me. Centuries in that same cycle.”
The scratch of the pen sliding across the page, as Suguru quickly flips through the first stack. He signs where it's needed, crossing and circling whole sentences. He doesn’t even need to tear his attention away from the page to answer, simply, “Love isn’t enough.”
Like it’s as easy as that.
Like Satoru hasn’t been absolutely agonizing over it as his great plan unfolds.
Now that he thinks about it - isn’t that a little annoying? Suguru, the greatest playboy of a generation - of course he wouldn’t think love is enough! Who was he kidding, seeking some sort of - well, he doesn't know what he was looking for. But something helpful! Maybe he should have gone to Shoko.
No, nevermind.
Maybe that makes even less sense.
Suguru bursts into laughter, “Pfff - you - don’t look so annoyed.”
“She’d disagree.” Satoru bites out.
Suguru smiles, “Yeah, she would. Funny, isn’t it? We’d call it naive, but she's lived all those lives and still she’d give us hell for it.”
Suguru’s eyes flick up to Satoru’s pile that has yet to slim, a quiet command to get to work. Satoru rolls his eyes, pen flicking across the page quickly, with a significant decrease in enthusiasm compared to Suguru’s steady work.
Suguru scoffs, continuing, “This estate has been with your family for generations - now it sits as neutral territory for all sorcerers to come. The Big Three no longer hold all the seats in Jujutsu. Who knows? There might even come a time where sorcerers are no longer living in the shadows. All of this wouldn’t have been possible without the strength that we wield.”
“Strength has always defined Jujutsu.” Satoru agrees with a shrug - it’s what he’s been shown his entire life. It’s what is proven to both the strong and the weak alike.
“Then again… ” Suguru starts, a suddenly annoyed remark, “- Hey! At least make it legible.” He looks at the scrippled signature on Satoru’s page. With a disappointed shake of his head, he points to a sleek black case at the edge of the desk. “Just use that then.”
Satoru grabs the case.
“Then again,” Suguru starts, once more. “You changed the world for her, didn’t you?”
And when he unlatches the delicate lid to the hanko case, he feels it even more than before. That the answer is screaming to be heard. Inside is a jade hanko, green hues mixing with white through the expensive stone. The end is carved precisely with Suguru’s seal, dipped in blue ink. It looks just like us.
He doesn’t answer, doesn’t need to. The answer, already existing in a question.
It’s silent between them, just the light sound of pen, moving faster than before. Peace on both their faces. The periodic sound of children’s laughter passing through on the wind.
He never could have imagined that one day, he’d be sitting in The Gojo Estate, with its new owner, voluntarily filling out paperwork. He never could have imagined that one day, every achievement would come secondary to you. He never could have imagined he’d be raising not just one kid (A Zenin at that!), but two.
“That teaching job. You’ll be busier than you are now, not like missions will let up, but, if you’re serious, you should take it.” Suguru says.
He never could have imagined becoming a teacher, of all things.
“Princess said ~”
A tick appears in Suguru’s forehead. “Are you seriously only considering it because Princess -”
Satoru pouts “What am I supposed to do when she says it like that? Hot? I wasn’t sure I could get sexier, but now that it’s an option…”
Suguru laughs, weightless, sharing that burden. “I’m sure she’ll like it if you do a really good job.”
The manipulation is obvious, but “Then I’ll have to be the best.” Satoru grins.
Suguru places a hand on his shoulder, “Oh, and Satoru?”
“Hm?”
“You should ask her, what’s at the end of those endless dreams.”
To people like us, love isn’t enough.
But it can be the reason why we bend the rules of the world.