Chapter Text
It was the Worst Week Of His Life.
Okay, that wasn’t true. He had much better contenders for the title of Worst Week Of His Life. But this one must be… the fourth one. Maybe fifth one? The point was, it was a bad week, and it sounded more dramatic to call it the worst week of his life rather than the fourth or fifth worst week of his life. Maybe sixth.
It was one of those tireless seasons where curses didn’t sleep and neither did he. Satoru had been flung—quite literally—from mission to mission all over the country without any respite, or even so much as a warning about how long the crunch period would last. Everything had been an emergency. And who handled emergencies in this field? Him, of course. Who else?
There used to be someone else…
But there wasn’t anymore. And it was fine, he could handle it. He could handle everything. He wasn’t complaining at all. After all, better send him than some wide-eyed first years who’d get themselves killed. In fact, they should keep sending curses his way! He’d take them all on! Just watch him! He had RCT, he could fight for days on end and stay as fresh as a daisy, and keep a perfect skin too! If he’d known earlier that RCT was such a life-hack he’d have worked harder to master it as a first year. It would have saved him a lot of pain. Oh well, the past was in the past, and tomorrow was another bright day.
Still, he couldn’t say he wasn’t glad to see that wooden door (as thin and almost as fragile as cardboard—he’d have to do something about that). The sight actually made him sigh out loud. Sight. Sigh. Tehehe. He must be at least a little tired if something this lame made him laugh.
He turned the key, opened the door—
—and was met with the pale faces of two little siblings.
“Wow, what’s with this mood? Did someone die?” Satoru said as he removed his coat (yuk! it smelled like sweat! ugh) and crashed on the sofa. Like a cat, he stretched his arms, then his back, and then his legs. Pfew, he’d needed that.
The kids watched him like hawks the entire time, so he watched them back.
“Hum. Tsumiki dear? You should watch over this,” Satoru helpfully pointed at the cooking pot in front of her. In her stupor, she’d completely stopped stirring and the onions were starting to crisp.
“Oh! Oh no!” she cried in panic as she turned off the stove. “Oh no, I ruined it. I’m so sorry,” she said, looking about to tear up.
Satoru tried damage control. “Hey, hey, hey! No, no, no! Don’t cry! It’s just a little burnt, but nothing too bad. I’m sure it’s still perfectly good.”
“It’s your fault anyway!” Megumi spat. ”What are you doing here? I thought you finally got tired of us.”
“What? Of course not, what made you think that?” He’d sent them a text to warn them, didn’t he? “I told you guys I was away on missions, right?” he asked, just to be sure.
“Yes. We received your texts,” Tsumiki said. A “but” was hanging in the air.
Megumi tsked. “The fact that you even had to ask is worrying. And you didn’t say you’d be back today.”
Satoru felt a tinge of irritation. His exhaustion won over his admittedly rather thin patience, and he snapped.
“Hey! I’m doing my best! And honestly, I had no idea I’d be back today either.”
“Yeah, sure. We don’t have enough food for you anyway, so why don’t you fuck off to whatever it is that you usually do all day?” Megumi said, then murmured under his breath, “You’re not much of a change from that guy.”
“Megumi!” Tsumiki shouted.
That guy… Toji?
That hurt. That really really hurt. “I… That’s unfair,” Satoru said in a wavering voice before he could stop himself. Unfair? What the hell was he saying? Why was he complaining to a six year old?
“Let’s… Let’s buy takeout okay?” Satoru proposed, a hand pressed over his burning eyes. He could feel the early signs of a headache coming. “And tomorrow, groceries shopping.”
The bell rang. They all jumped in surprise.
“Huh? Were you guys waiting for someone?” Satoru asked. The two kids shook their heads in a negative answer.
The bell rang again. This time, the ringing was accompanied by frantic knocking.
“Coming! I’m coming! Boy, someone seems angry.”
Satoru opened the door. The first thing he saw were slicked-back hairs. He looked down. A grey suit and a black tie.
“Mr Gojo I presume?” A stern voice questioned.
“You presume well, Mr?”
“Mitsurugi. You met my colleague last month at our office. You were supposed to come to the hearing yesterday.”
“...The hearing?” It was Satoru’s turn to pale.
“The one to strip Miss Fushiguro from her parental rights and appoint you as the legal guardian of her children.”
“Yes, I know what the hearing is about,” Satoru said. “It was yesterday?” Fuck fuck fuck. He’d completely forgotten.
The guy’s very stern tone was freaking him out a little, and it was clearly freaking out the kids too. Both had visibly tensed at the sight of the formal suit and briefcase.
“Are they taking us away?” Tsumiki asked. There was a subtle tremble in her voice. Megumi was pressed close to her side and had grabbed her hand; his wide, frightened eyes darted back and forth from Satoru to the lawyer.
“Not on my watch! Now shoo! Adult business!” Satoru said, then put the kids to bed before readying himself for what felt like the battle of his life.
He peeked discreetly into the living room where the lawyer was waiting for him, then thought to himself, That's silly, before going back in.
“So. Hum… Coffee? Tea?” he offered nervously while pointing to a chair by the table.
The man threw a not so subtle glance at the kitchenette, and frowned at what he saw there.
“No, thank you.”
Ouch.
Mr Mitsurugi, the lawyer he’d hired a month ago and apparently completely forgot about, spent the next half-hour briefing Satoru on the documents he had to bring him before the new hearing date, but not before berating him about the importance of punctuality and answering important phone calls.
“Thankfully for you, as I didn’t get any response to my calls over the past two weeks, I assumed you weren’t available and rescheduled. You’re welcome.”
“I’m so sorry, I forgot to save your number. I don’t answer calls from unknown people. Everything gets filtered out.”
“Be more careful next time. You absolutely need to be present at the court hearing, this is important to finalize the process. Did I make myself clear, Mr Gojo?”
“Yes! Crystal clear,” Satoru answered, bowing in forced politeness.
“You must be present this time,” the lawyer repeated. His insistence was starting to piss Satoru off, who felt like he was being talked down to.
“I didn’t miss the hearing on purpose. I was away for my job. There was an emergency, and it was kinda important,” Satoru said a little petulantly.
“Yes, I know. I called your employer. I needed an official justification.”
“You called Yaga?” When? How did that guy even get his number?! Is that how he knew he’d be at the apartment today?
“Mr Gojo, I’m thinking of the well being of those children. They should be your absolute priority until the situation settles.”
Satoru’s cheeks colored with shame. This man wasn’t his enemy, he was just trying to help. And Satoru must be making a terrible impression.
“I understand,” he bowed again. Suguru would be proud of how polite he was learning to be. “I’ll do better.”
“And fill in the paperwork properly this time. With the additional documents I asked you.”
“What were those again?” Satoru asked, a little embarrassed.
The man sighed.
“Are you sure you’re up for this, Mr Gojo? Becoming a legal guardian is no small task. You’re very young yourself. Are there no other relatives that could take care of this in your stead?”
Satoru could imagine very well what the lawyer must be thinking. ‘What kind of incompetent idiot am I dealing with here?’ He grabbed the man by his shoulders and implored him:
“I have to do this! There is no one else! Just list the paperwork again, I’ll write everything down!”
The man sighed again. “Let’s go over it one last time.”
A few minutes later, the lawyer was gone, and Satoru found himself head buried in his hands.
“What the fuck am I doing?”
Here he was, eighteen years old and getting ready to officially take responsibility for the two kids of the man who’d ruined his life. He didn’t owe Toji anything, so why? What was the chain of decisions that led him to this situation? He had known for almost a year Megumi existed and hadn’t lifted a finger until a few weeks ago. What was the difference? Hah. Who was he kidding? The difference was the big Suguru-shaped hole in his heart he was trying to fill.
Selfish and self-centered, that’s so you.
His thoughts were turning nasty. An intense feeling he couldn’t quite identify rose from his stomach and clouded his eyes with unspilled tears. He shook his head and focussed back on the list of documents before him.
Satoru had promised the kids he’d get everything done, but he’d really underestimated the time he’d have to dedicate to paperwork. Apparently, the lawyer couldn’t fetch his personal data for him, who would have thought?
This is clearly the third worst week of my life.
Proof of income was easy enough to get with his job as a Sorcerer. Bank statements. Tax returns. Ugh, okay. Just a few boring phone calls. A physical exam? For him? Why? Could Shoko do it? He’d ask her later. Certificate of good conduct. Well, his police record was clean. He thought. Oh man… It was clean, right? Did letting Suguru go count as aiding and abetting a criminal? He’d know about it if it got put on his record, right? He didn’t help him… he didn’t stop him… he should have but he couldn’t…
Moving on.
Birth certificates. He’d have to look for them at the City Hall. Written statement for the reason for adoption. He could do that, yeah.
Proof of housing… Was still an ongoing thing.
The apartment (if it could even be called that; Satoru would have called it a dump) didn’t belong to him, it was property of the Fushiguros and was quite frankly in an unsanitary state, unfit for living. Toji was deceased and the mother was God knows where, so Satoru couldn’t exactly buy back the property and have it fixed up.
Tsumiki had done her best for a kid her age (much better than Satoru would have done) but it didn’t stop dust from collecting on top of the furniture and inside the cheap appliances. The AC was barely functioning, which was going to be a problem during the summer heat. The washing machine was broken; the kids had resorted to washing their clothes by hand and hanging them around to dry, and mold had started settling in every crevice of the damp and poorly insulated place. The kitchen hood had long given up; grease was coating the walls, filling the room with a lingering smell of rancid oil. Satoru had even seen a few cockroaches around, and there were mice outside in the trash.
So yeah, housing was definitely a top priority. At the moment, Satoru lived in a school dorm. Hardly what one could call fitting housing for two children. In theory, he could ask the school to give them their own room, but for this he needed approval from a guardian. So he needed to give them housing to get guardianship and get guardianship to give them housing.
How kafkaesque.
There was a simple solution to most of his problems. The Gojo clan could provide both housing and ample money, and the servants would happily take care of the entire paperwork for him. There were a few documents he had to get from them, so he’d be forced to visit at some point anyway… But Satoru had sworn to stay as far away from the compound as possible and never depend on these people for anything. He refused to expose the kids to that environment, and so, he had to learn to deal with all this stuff by himself.
I can buy an apartment with my own income, he thought. I’m a big boy, I don’t need the clan.
Sure, real estate agents would probably raise their eyebrows at him, but since he’d graduated, all the money he made was now his own, and he was making quite a lot. The real problem was that Satoru didn't have time to go on visits, and he didn’t quite know what to look for in a good apartment. He’d have to look it up. More time lost. Since Suguru left, his schedule had been busier than ever, and what little free time he had was spent with the kids. Maybe they could do these visits together in the evenings after school? It would be a nice bonding activity… Or would bore them all to death.
Man, I hate this adult stuff.
“How did it go?”
“Awful. I couldn’t keep my eyes off Megumi for even a second.”
“Hm.”
“He’s better behaved usually, at least in front of adults. He keeps the attitude for when we’re at home.”
“Hm, hm.”
“But these days he’s… I dunno what’s his problem but he’s impossible. It’s like he’s trying to push my buttons. And it’s working.”
“Hm.”
“I want him to have a normal life. No, he can’t really have a normal life. But I want him to at least have a childhood.”
Unlike him.
“Hmmm.”
“Are you even listening to me, Shoko?”
“Sorry, I don’t really know how to deal with kids. But what you just said, about him pushing your buttons, it makes sense. He’s trying to see what’s safe.”
“Yeah he’s… He kinda reminds me of… well… me. It’s a little eerie actually.”
“Scary thought. You’re getting a newfound sympathy for your handlers?”
“Funny. But I’m talking about his situation with his clan. I’m trying to avoid him getting put there.”
“Would that be so bad?”
“Those people suck, Shoko. Unbelievably so. And it’s not Megumi I’m the most worried about, there is no way in hell I’m leaving Tsumiki to them.”
“Well, you know more about clans than me.”
“I’m worried though, about how to handle Megumi.”
“Because he’s like you?”
“Because he’s a better kid than I was. So I…”
He fell silent.
“What if… What if they turn out badly?“
“Why do you think that? They seem like good kids, both of them.”
“Suguru was a good kid too, better than all of us! And yet, look at what happened to him!”
Why did he say this? He should learn to think before opening his damn mouth.
“Satoru…” Shoko said almost blankly. “You can't project Suguru on those kids. That’s so…”
Selfish.
Satoru’s breathing picked up.
“I keep wondering... Why? Why did he do this? And leave? Why didn’t I see the signs and stop him? Did I push him over the edge? With something I’ve said? Something I’ve done?”
(“Should we kill them all, Suguru? Right now, I don’t think I’d feel anything.”
“No. It would be pointless. Those people are just believers. Their leaders already ran, and unlike the bounty, they can’t get their way around this. That cult had problems to begin with. They'll be dissolved soon.”
“A point… Is that important?”
“...It’s very important. Especially for a Sorcerer.”)
That day, at his lowest moment, Suguru had stopped him. So why couldn’t Satoru return the favor?
“The villagers. His own parents. The things he said that day… It was insane. Completely insane. It made no sense whatsoever. I couldn’t see his point at all, Shoko!”
It had been as if they were speaking completely different languages.
(“You’re going to kill all non-sorcerers?! You know it’s impossible! There is no point in chipping away at an unachievable goal!”
“You’re so arrogant.”
“Huh?!”
“You could do it, couldn’t you, Satoru? And yet, you’re trying to convince me it’s impossible to do something you can do? Do you think you’re the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo? Or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?”
“What are you trying to say?”
“If I were you, that foolish goal would be possible. I’ve made my decision. It’s only a matter of doing everything to achieve it.”)
“I can’t get my head around it. Does he hate me? Resent me somehow? Maybe I deluded myself into thinking our friendship was as important to him as it was to me.“
Friendship, or more. If he could, Satoru would be crying. But he couldn’t. It would be unbecoming of the strongest; so he gritted his teeth instead.
You are selfish, Satoru. You act on your whims. That’s why you won’t do anything meaningful to change this world.
Of course changing the world just like this was not possible, not even for Satoru. If Satoru really forced his hand… tried to kill every non-sorcerer like Suguru suggested… there wouldn’t be a world worth living left for anyone. How could that be meaningful? And yet, that day, Suguru had spoken with unshakeable conviction while Satoru… Satoru hadn’t found his words. Even if he had, would they have changed anything? Nothing he could have said would have steered him back to his side, he’d been completely unreachable.
Being strong is useless when the person you want to help doesn't want your help.
“I— I know I am not a normal person. Or a gentle person. I’ve never been one. Suguru… Suguru is the good one. The selfless one.” Suguru had been and remained his better half. “He wants to make a better world and knows how to speak to people. How to help them. But me… I dunno…”
Suguru should be the one here, trying to make a change.
Satoru swallowed his breaths.
“I— Am I selfish? To want these kids in my life? To prove I can make a difference? I’m so lost. I feel like a giant fuck-up. I don’t know how you should act around kids. I don’t know what a proper family is. I have no point of reference. It’s a disaster waiting to happen. Should I give it up and put them up for adoption. To a real family, a normal one?” he asked in a small voice—too small and insecure for someone like him. At the end, he murmured, head down, “Anyone would do a better job than me.”
Shoko whistled. She sized him up, then slowly took a cig out of her pocket and lit it.
Eventually, she said, “You know… It’s going to sound bad, but it’s pretty comforting to see you in this state over it. I didn’t see something so genuine from you in over a year.”
Satoru sniffled a little angrily and raised his head again, eyebrows furrowed in outrage. “I’m pouring my heart out to you and this is your reaction? Well, I’m glad that my anguish is bringing you some comfort.” he muttered, tapping his foot on the ground.
“It shows that you actually care about the future of these kids,” she continued. “I’ll admit I was a little worried when I learned you’d taken them in overnight. I kept wondering if you were just making up for Suguru’s absence, and would get bored of them after a few months, like some Christmas pets.”
They stared ahead in silence for a full minute.
“And? How is that supposed to help me?” Satoru finally asked.
“Satoru… You made the right decision,” Shoko said. “You said it yourself. Megumi can’t have a normal life. The moment you turn your back, the Zenins will put their grabby hands on him, and God knows what will happen to Tsumiki. These kids deserve someone who actually gives a fuck about them, someone who can give them a childhood and protect them from the Zenin clan. And you’re pretty much the only person who fits those criterias right now.”
“So…”
“Maybe you started this for selfish reasons, so what? Having kids is always a selfish decision. No kid asks to be born in this world. But they need you, Satoru. So don’t give up. You have to be strong for them. And… If you need help with babysitting, I’m here,” she added with a small punch on his shoulder. “So don’t be a dumbass and call me.”
“They need me…” His voice hardened with determination. “Strong. I can do that.”
“Of course you can.”
“Yeah. I’m the strongest. Thanks Shoko.”
“And Satoru?”
“Hm?”
“Nothing Suguru did was your fault. He’s a big boy, he makes his own decisions.”
“...Thanks Shoko,” he said again, in a much softer tone this time.
They would never speak of this conversation again.