#this would be the sato-shiki that truly has a cult following

[yuesya]

Ryomen Sukuna, the double-faced specter. The undisputed King of Curses, who had claimed the title of Strongest in his time.

… Versus Gojo Satoru. The Strongest sorcerer of the modern age –the strongest by a wide margin. In this world, at least. Back in his own world, where everything (hopefully) hasn’t gone to hell in a handbasket, Geto Suguru can confidently say that it’s Gojo Satoru and Gojo Shiki who hold the title of ‘Strongest’ together between the two of them.

Suguru had never paused to think what the world might be like without them. Either of them. And in this strange new world that he’d been thrown headfirst into without any warning, in this world where Shiki doesn’t exist and Suguru himself is dead and Satoru is left to carry everything alone, it…

It means that Satoru says that he will face Sukuna by himself, and everyone else nods along to this like it’s a foregone conclusion. As if it’s only natural. And perhaps it is, and Suguru knows that Satoru has always enjoyed a challenge, but–

It’s not the same. It’s not the same. Even though rationally, he knows that the Gojo Satoru in this world isn’t his Satoru, Suguru can’t help but worry for him, even despite the smooth confidence that the other man wears like a second skin. His friends and students in this world worry too, but Suguru can see how a not-insignificant number of them also look like they can’t fathom the thought of Gojo losing.

Because Gojo-sensei is the strongest. Invincible. Immaculate and utterly untouchable, and there is no one else who comes close to approaching him.

(“Stay with us, Suguru?”)

… Suguru worries for him.

It’s why he remains at the outskirts of the battlefield, when Gojo clashes with Sukuna. Hovering, watching, as the two sorcerers tear apart their surroundings; bridges collapsing and buildings ripped apart like wet paper. Suguru himself is a Special Grade sorcerer, but the level of a fight like this remains a cut beyond him, still. Just the multiple back-to-back Domain Expansions alone would’ve been more than enough to kill him several times over. He can feel the hairs rising on the back of his neck at the cursed energy saturating the air, and the sheer power that they throw around so easily…

It’s something that he’s only ever witnessed from Satoru and Shiki before.

…

He doesn’t know how to describe it. In the aftermath of the single most destructive release of Hollow Purple that Suguru has ever seen, Gojo’s victory appears imminent. But even riddled with injuries and missing half his body as he is, Sukuna looks up with Megumi’s face and smiles, baring his teeth as he brings his hand up in a sharp slashing motion, and–

And something inside Suguru twists, blood thundering in his ears, and his reaction is entirely instinctive. Probably the result of one too many heart attacks that Satoru and Shiki have put him through over the years, if he’s being honest here–

Rainbow Dragon, the most powerful defensive cursed spirit in Suguru’s arsenal, falls to the ground in a spray of red-violet blood, sliced in half. It does not move again, and Suguru knows that it will never move again –his connection to the cursed spirit had been severed instantaneously.

But it’s worth it. Because this means that, instead of having his upper torso separated from the rest of his body, Gojo is only missing an arm and a good portion of his shoulder. It’s his right arm, though, which isn’t good; he’ll need to regenerate the limb in order to form seals for his techniques with his hand–

“… Geto?”

“Gojo,” Suguru returns breathlessly, and then there’s no more time for idle talk. Not when Sukuna laughs, and falls upon them, already having healed from his own wounds –grievous wounds that would’ve killed any other sorcerer three times over. Not when the demon is somehow able to cut through Gojo Satoru’s Limitless technique, how is that possible?!

They struggle, and fight, and do their best. It’s not enough. Suguru and Gojo aren’t as in sync with each other as they need to be against an opponent like Ryomen Sukuna. And while Suguru is a Special Grade sorcerer, he’s not a Special Grade the way that Gojo and Sukuna are–!

Even so, Suguru grits his teeth and fights, tooth and nail, because the only other alternative now that he’s well and truly involved in this (as if he could turn his back on Satoru, any version of Satoru) is to give up, and Suguru refuses to do that.

… Is this how I’m going to die?

…

In the brief instant right before Suguru knows that he is about to face certain death, when his mind is only full of an endless refrain of Satoru, Shiki, somehow–

Sukuna stops.

The monster puppeteering Megumi’s body freezes, and looks upwards. It takes a moment for Suguru to register this odd, odd reaction, and he…

… he can’t exactly blame him.

Because when Suguru decides to take his chances and glances upwards himself to see what suddenly caught Sukuna’s attention, it’s abundantly clear that there’s something wrong. The sky –pulses, for lack of a better word. A strange sort of ripple that materializes in this space without any rhyme or reason, before it stretches open, a yawning circle of something–

Something–

Nothing.

Everything.

… What opens up in the sky in this moment is a chalice of purest darkness, overflowing with brilliant light. The frozen dawn, wrought with evening stars. There are flames curling within ice, meteorites shattering into dust, entire galaxies that wither and bloom–

It doesn’t make any sense. It’s utterly incomprehensible. Suguru stares up at the yawning, gaping maw of– of something, surely, but at the same time he doesn’t know what he’s seeing at all. Infinite possibilities, finite endings. Suguru stares and stares, trying to make sense of what he’s seeing, but the more he peers into that unfathomable void in the sky, the less he can decipher from it.

It’s… almost as if his mind simply refuses to register what he’s seeing.

Then, there is a hand.

A pale, white hand, reaching out with open fingers splayed into the air. And he does mean white, alabaster-white. The hand is followed by a slender wrist, than an entire arm, and a shoulder–

… It’s a person, that much is evident from the humanoid form. The towering creature that emerges from the hole in the sky is most certainly not a person, though. In terms of size, it’s probably large enough to rival Mahoraga. And in terms of color, their coloring is wrong.

White. Solidly stark-white, like a statue carved from marble. A flawless and unblemished human form, to be sure; a distinctly androgynous work of perfection that cannot be mistaken for anything other than unnatural.

Two arms fall down at its sides, while two more sweep out with palms faced upwards. The creature also has two heads. One is attached normally to the body as a regular human would be, while the other is offset slightly above it, much like an attentive brother overlooking his sister from behind, for all their eerie similarities–

–hold on just a fucking moment.

That’s… holy shit. Holy shit. Suguru knows those faces, would know it anywhere, even on his deathbed–!

His mind promptly short-circuits at the mind-shattering revelation. It takes a solid moment, before he’s finally able to loosen his tongue enough to speak again.

“… Satoru,” Suguru whispers disbelievingly, hoping against hope and knowing what he sees down to his very soul. “Shiki?”

What the hell. What the hell.

Suguru, his beautiful, beloved, utterly mad lunatics say to him, voice sweet and ringing with dual-toned laughter. Never play hide-and-seek with us like this again.