#uraume is competing too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starmapz · 5 months ago

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shame on me || chapter thirteen || sacrifice

gojo satoru x female vessel reader

❝gojo satoru is the strongest sorcerer. when you come along with power to match his own, his responsibility to the world gets the best of him and his first impression is poor to say the least. when he needs your help, by some miracle you're too kind to deny him. or maybe he's just manipulative enough to convince you. either way, you're stuck training his student, a vessel like you. what could possibly go wrong?❞

warnings || 18+ only. contains explicit content. enemies to lovers. extreme angst. graphic descriptions of injury and death. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. fluff. major character death. anxiety. panic attacks. extreme slow burn. eventual smut. p in v. oral (f! and m! receiving). praise. overstimulation. unprotected. fingering. mating press. slight nanami x reader. happy ending!

additional tags || gojo is a dumbass but very lovable. very very very minor love triangle, will not be a main theme. no competing. takes place after season 2. au where gojo is not sealed and the shibuya incident does not go down the same. nanami is alive. choso is around. no major manga spoilers but will contain themes and ideas touched on later.

wc || 11.7k.

edited but not beta-read.

series masterlist || main masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

The late afternoon sun paints the walls a golden auburn fitting of a king. The still air is tense but the silence that hangs over the heads of the group gathered in the room is more rigid still. The beautiful afternoon sun is so serene you have half a mind to wonder if it recognizes the gravity of the situation you’ve found yourself in.

At the head of the room, Yaga and an older man that had only been referred to as an ‘old fart’ by Satoru stand with stern looks as they wait for a debrief from Choso. Megumi had taken him for a breather when he’d begun to panic and no one seemed to dare speak while they awaited their return.

Glancing around the room, you’re almost surprised by how few people you recognize, but with the higher-ups out of the picture, Yaga and the older man seemed to have been trusted with directing missions now.

When Choso returns, he doesn’t seem any less distraught, lips pressed into a firm and fearful frown. He takes a breath as he stands beside Yaga, exhaling shakily while overlooking the small room crowded with sorcerers.

“Yuji and I were on a mission,” he explains, casting his gaze to the floor momentarily, “when Uraume and Kenjaku appeared.”

Uraume?

Do you know Uraume? You wonder to Miriko.

They have been around a long time if I am to assume it is the very same. They are an ally of Sukuna. I do not believe this bodes well for us.

Your heart pounds in your throat as you find yourself inadvertently backing into Satoru. His arms move from their spot crossed over his chest to rest on your shoulders, soothingly rubbing circles into your tense muscles.

Without his grounding presence, you’re sure you would have fallen apart by now. Of course, you knew this day would come, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less knowing that someone was using the body of the man who was once your world to kidnap your student.

“Uraume cornered me and Yuji chased Kenjaku. I didn’t think about- I should have- I should-” Choso stammers over his words, staring down at trembling hands before a tall blonde woman you don’t recognize reaches out to him. It seems to reassure him as he continues. “Kenjaku led Yuji into a big warehouse on the dock and lowered a veil. I tried to join Yuji so that we could fight together but I couldn’t get into the veil.”

You frown, letting out a long breath of your own as you consider who exactly the veil would be designed to let in, if anyone at all.

“That’s… all I know.” Choso’s voice grows strained as he all but scrambles to join the blonde woman at the sidelines of the room, to get out of the watchful eyes of the room.

“If Uraume’s around, we can assume this is a part of the plan to complete Sukuna,” Yaga states confidently behind dark glasses not entirely unlike Satoru’s. “We should still have one finger which will give us an advantage. Ino, can you check on it?”

The sorcerer you can only assume is Ino salutes and bounds out of the room quickly, leaving behind a tense room of what remains of the sorcerers.

Satoru had mentioned once that the Shibuya incident last year had thinned out the ranks of sorcerers fairly severely. Surveying the room, you wonder if this is truly what’s left of those who can fight Sukuna, as you’re not sure it gives you confidence for the battle given what you’ve heard about the monster of a curse.

“The next question we need to consider is the veil. Given what we know of the Shibuya incident, we can assume it’s likely meant to keep Gojo out.” All eyes turn to you and Gojo and you suddenly want to shrink into oblivion, but the attention diverts quickly to Yaga once more. “We may also want to consider the possibility of multiple barriers.”

“This also brings into question the choice of location,” the older man speaks up now. You can’t help but feel as though he looks like he’s about to croak from the way he’s hunched over a cane, a thought which you’re all too confident comes from spending too much time around Satoru.

“Where was your mission?” Someone you don’t recognize speaks up.

“Takahama.”

The room goes silent in consideration. “The power plant?” Megumi points out, arms crossed over his chest. “Makes sense if it was near the ocean.”

Something nags at the back of your mind. A doubt, a little twinge of worry that you don’t want to allow to spiral, yet the more you consider it, the more it feels like a distinct possibility.

“They’re not trying to keep Gojo out,” you blurt out, cheeks heating up at the sudden attention as all eyes turn to you. The air is rigid around you. “Choso couldn’t get in because they want everyone except Sato- Gojo- out.”

“You think they’re trying to kill him?”

You shrug. “I don’t know what their goal is but he can’t fire off his attacks in there without killing everyone and causing a nuclear meltdown.”

“He’d obliterate Takahama,” the blonde woman agrees.

A tall blonde man in distinguished robes takes a step forward. His hair is black at the tips and his eyes are sharp, devoid of the empathy evident in the rest of the sorcerers. Just the sight of him is enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“Don’t see why that’s a problem. Just evacuate the area. Not like it’ll kill Gojo,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

Your blood runs cold in your veins, agitation seeping from deep within you like the slow drip of coagulated blood. You consider him lucky you don’t rip him apart then and there when Ino returns to the door.

“The finger’s still there,” he reports.

“See? Feed the kid the last finger and blow the whole thing up. Boom, Sukuna problem solved.”

This time, he’s not quite as lucky. “How about I give you a taste of my technique instead?” You hiss, taking a step towards him.

His eyebrow raises in a silent challenge as he smirks. Confident asshole.

Satoru firmly pulls you back to him. “He’s not worth it, sweetheart. The Zen’in are all pieces of shit.” He whispers loud enough for the man to hear though your gaze never once leaves the Zen’in clan leader.

“Enough, all of you,” Yaga scolds, though the pointed look he sports is aimed at the blonde man and not you. “If you’re right y/n, then we have limited options. We need to figure out if we can get others into the veil.”

“Hold on, Kenjaku is inside the barrier, right?” Satoru finally speaks up, bringing a hand up thoughtfully to his chin.

Choso nods affirmatively.

“... was the warehouse near any kind of plant life?” Gojo’s voice is grave when he asks the question that he knows is dooming for the both of you. The question that will answer every subsequent one all with one response.

“I don’t think so,” Choso responds with a questioning tilt of his head, sunken eyes narrowing as he fails to understand the correlation.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach, your head woozy as you exchange a glance with Satoru, leaning further into his hold. His hands tighten on your shoulders, the deep frown on his face telling that the same wave of emotions was threatening to drown him as it does you.

“It’s a death trap,” Yuta gapes in disbelief, equally coming to the realization of just what Kenjaku and Sukuna have planned.

Your breathing grows faint, vision blurring as the world seems to spin around you. If not for Satoru’s firm grip on your arms, you’re almost positive you might have been on the floor by now. “Take a breath, sweetheart,” Satoru urges in your ear, his voice low for only you to hear in spite of all the eyes on the both of you.

As you cling to the string of hope that is Satoru’s strong grip, he goes on to explain his thought process. “They want it to be y/n and I’s graveyard. I can’t attack in a power plant without doing bad damage and y/n can’t use her technique without nature. I'd be willing to bet we’re the only ones meant to get into that veil.”

There’s also the fact that Kenjaku’s current host is Nanami and that’s a bridge you’re not entirely ready to cross yet, but you’re grateful at the very least that your boyfriend doesn’t rip the bandage off the wound that is Kento in front of a room full of your allies and the Zen’in.

You exhale shakily, standing straight with your back to Satoru’s chest. “How strong is Sukuna with one finger?” You wonder aloud, glancing around the room as you silently evaluate the team you have to support you. Half of the room is students, which doesn’t sit well with you. They shouldn’t need to be a part of this.

“He’s not overly strong, why?” The white-haired sorcerer tilts his head in an effort to get a look at your thoughtful expression.

“Then we kill Sukuna with nineteen fingers. If one isn’t a threat, then that can be a problem for later.”

A hum of approval ripples through the room, much to your relief.

“What do you propose then, y/n? It sounds like you have a plan.”

“Miri-” you clear your throat in order to cut yourself off, unsure of how widespread the knowledge of your technique is. “Merely-” you begin, a sad attempt at covering up the name of your curse, “-a guess, but I think I can kill him without hurting Yuji with my technique.”

“Not while we’re stuck in there,” Satoru tries to insist, not willing to entertain the thought of you using your technique without the ability to heal, especially on a being like Sukuna. He’s interrupted by the Zen’in again.

“Y’know Sukuna’s special grade, right sweetheart? What does someone like you think ya can do?” He sneers, arms crossed over his chest as his eyes narrow at you, trying to evaluate your skills as though your appearance was enough to go off of.

“Do you wanna find out?” You hiss back through your teeth, jaw clenched. When Satoru firmly grips your arms again, you actively pull against him this time, wanting nothing more than to clock the asshole.

“Zen’in. Y/n,” Yaga’s voice is stern as he scolds you both, an entire lecture held in just your names. “She’s special grade, Zen’in. Quit your whining,” the older man sighs, unwilling to put up with the interruptions.

The Zen’in’s brow twitches when he hears that and a swell of pride surges through you. You smile snidely at him as he huffs and leans back against the wall, averting his gaze as though he’d lost a battle.

Asshole, Miriko huffs in agreement within you.

“So, what? Do we just look for a way to dismantle the veil, then worry about Kenjaku and Sukuna after?”

“I- I’m actually a bit worried about that,” Choso hums uncertainly as he fiddles with his fingers. “Uraume mentioned something about locking Yuji’s soul away if they have enough time.”

Shit.

“It’s the perfect trap to pull in Gojo and I,” you sigh, resigned. You suppose at the end of the day, you always assumed something like this would happen.

From the moment you first met the white-haired sorcerer, you always figured he would be the reason for your demise. Yet, never in a million years would you have imagined it would be a freak accident which he had no part in orchestrating. Worse still, you can’t fathom the idea of being more afraid of losing him than losing your own life.

“Hey,” Satoru’s thumb and forefinger gently lift your chin, everyone else in the room completely forgotten as the blindfolded man keeps your gaze steady on him. “I know what you’re thinking. We’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out, together.”

“Together,” you repeat, clearly satisfying Satoru when he smiles.

“What do you need in order to kill Sukuna?” Yaga asks.

Pulling from Satoru’s grasp, you take a breath, stepping forward with more confidence now. “I need Sukuna severely weakened.”

Glances are exchanged across the room. You know very well that’s not an easy condition to fill.

“How long can you two hold out against Sukuna and Kenjaku? Surely we can take Uraume while we figure out how to get through the veil,” the blonde woman beside Choso raises a finger pointedly in the air and you exchange a glance with Satoru.

“I’ll be fine,” he hums confidently. You have to resist rolling your eyes as an overly familiar phrase slips from his grin-laden lips. “I’m the strongest, after all.”

You don’t expect him to speak again. You expect that to be the end of it and for everyone to move out. Satoru Gojo loves to find ways to shock you, though.

“Besides, I won’t be alone.”

Your lips quirk up into a smile.

–

The world around you feels foreign. Like unfamiliar territory, never once charted to paper. It’s as though you’re on a journey through new lands yet to be discovered, yet this experience is without the wonder of exploration.

Each mile closer to the destination is another twist in your gut, another soar of uncertainty in your heart. Another fearful look shared with your boyfriend, doing his best to comfort you even with all the unfamiliar figures alongside you in the car.

Even your own clothing feels unfamiliar. A compression tank top adorns the top half of your body with stretchy, skin tight workout pants on your lower half. Robes cover the outfit that matches those of Satoru, an outfit you’ve never seen him in before.

White robes are tied loosely around his upper half with matching pants around his hips. A black compression shirt is barely visible beneath the robes on his torso, his defined abdomen a treat for prying eyes.

Yet, you can’t bring yourself to feel an ounce of happiness even at the thought of spending time with your most treasured partner.

Because each mile further brings you closer to what feels like a concrete tomb.

Satoru’s fingers glide gently over your knee, squeezing your thigh in reassurance but it does little to ease the growing fear.

“It’s okay, sweet girl. We’ll be okay. We’ll win.”

The look you shoot him is uncertain. He knows as well as you do that no words could possibly ease the anxiety you feel. You wonder if he knows that the reason you’re so scared isn’t even for your own sake either, it’s for him.

The pitious stares from Choso, the tall blonde woman known as Yuki, Yuta, Shoko, and Kusakabe all make you want to shrink into yourself.

Yet you can only imagine how Yuji feels.

It all feels like a cruel, inescapable nightmare. Like you’re chained to the negative thoughts of the past, chained to events that will scar you for a lifetime. Your past always did seem to catch up with you one way or another. You can only suppose that you’re not destined to find happiness, otherwise why would the world be so cruel as to tear it from you each and every time you found it?

You swallow hard, staring at your hands.

You are afraid, Miriko states matter-of-factly.

Your eye twitches.

Thanks, Miriko.

I apologize. I can feel your fear.

Sorry.

With a soft sigh, you shut your eyes and reach for Satoru’s hand in an effort to calm your nerves.

I need to bring something to your attention.

Satoru’s finger intertwine with yours as Miriko continues.

I did not have the opportunity to bring this up when I intended to, but I feel it is worth mentioning that when your mother and I found my second scale, the clans grew weary of us and sent their strongest after us.

The strongest. It couldn’t be… could it?

I believe you are smart enough to piece together what that means, she hums inwardly.

You’re kidding. The Six Eyes?

The one and only.

The irony that that same person would sit beside you four hundred years later, as your partner rather than your enemy.

That is not what truly matters, however. I fear history is repeating itself.

Your brow furrows, deep in thought as Miriko speaks.

Your mother had a partner that day. She fought the Six Eyes alongside him and he fell at her side.

Your eyes widen in disbelief. After four hundred years, everything had come full circle. Here you are, in a battle alongside the user of the Six Eyes, your mother’s same weapons sat at your side, in Satoru’s traditional clan attire that was likely worn back then by his ancestor as well.

Four hundred years apart, and yet the situation bears a horrible resemblance, coming entirely full circle.

Satoru’s on our side, this time. That’ll give us an advantage. You’re sure that Miriko knows you’re trying to convince yourself more than her. She hums inwardly, letting silence return to your mind.

Subconsciously, your grip on Satoru has tightened to a degree that he’s staring at you with concern.

“Sweetheart?” His voice is low, whispered softly for your ears only as Choso and Yuki mutter something between themselves, Kusakabe looks as if he’s half-asleep.

“Hm?”

“You’re squeezing me like I’m the enemy,” he hums with a teasing lilt in spite of the tense atmosphere.

Blinking in surprise, you look down to your intertwined fingers to see your knuckles are white, nails digging into his skin enough to make you wince when you loosen your grip and see the marks left behind.

“Sorry, Toru,” you sigh apologetically, smoothing your hand over the indents left in his skin.

“You’re fine, pretty girl. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you sigh, leaning closer to him to keep your conversation between you. “Just worried is all.”

“Everything’s gonna be alright, love,” he reassures you, kissing the crown of your head so gently that your heart hurts at the thought.

Love. It’s the first time he’s ever uttered the word.

Your heart races in your chest and you shift in your seat in an effort to get your heart to calm and your mind to quiet, but it’s all for nought.

Your bond with Satoru is something you don’t dare question. Intense, passionate, playful, caring, and burning with desire. It came so naturally once you started to get along that you could only wonder how you had let things get so far away from you both in the first place.

He’s your universe.

You should tell him. You should tell him so that he knows. You should tell him so that your past doesn’t repeat itself. So that history doesn’t repeat itself.

“Satoru, I-”

The words die in your throat as the car pulls to a halt and Ijichi announces your arrival. They sit like an uncomfortable lump in your throat, one that makes you want to claw and tear until it’s out in the open, until you can make it known.

It’s not too late, right?

“Alright, let’s go over what we know,” Kusakabe takes charge, jolting to a suddenly wakeful state.

It’s too late.

Kusakabe lays out the plan before you as you do everything in your power to pay attention, but at the end of the day, it’s not much of a plan. You don’t have enough information to go off of and the longer Sukuna is left unattended, the more sullen the situation becomes.

When it comes down to it the plan is throwing spaghetti at the wall and praying you and Satoru can hold out.

No matter how long you spent trying to convince your boyfriend that his stupid title didn’t define him, it always came back to haunt him, only now it haunts you too.

The strongest couple.

When you take a step out into the cool late autumn air, a shiver runs up your spine. The night is fast approaching and with it brings a layer of frost that you can only imagine will make the upcoming fight more tedious.

Concrete warehouse or not, you’ll be inside at least.

The veil before you extends several dozen feet high, a perfect half sphere. It’s positioned to perfectly avoid the ocean that laps and sullies the dock with its harsh salt water and border any grass or nature.

You grip the handles of your sickles in one hand, while Satoru’s fingers haven’t left their place intertwined with your other hand. Although he sports that ever-present nonchalant smirk, you can sense his uneasiness.

“I think I always hoped we’d have more time to prepare,” Satoru speaks up abruptly, confirming your suspicions of his uneasiness as Choso, Yuki, Yuta, Shoko, and Kusakabe all scatter in their designated directions.

“I don’t want you to be alone,” you tell him, examining the way those starry blue pools of his swirl with melancholy.

“I know, my sweet girl,” a pang of heartbreak blankets his tone as he averts his eyes, “but I know this isn’t what you wanted.”

He’s right, but it doesn’t change the fact that somewhere along the way your priorities shifted. Somewhere along the way you realized that Satoru had become your world. The stars in your sky, the tide in your ocean, and the love of your life.

You need to tell him.

“Toru, I-”

CRASH.

Like shattered glass, shards of ice fly in your direction and in an instant Satoru is in front of you. The ice stops and eventually falls short inches away from him as his technique activates like second nature.

“We need to go,” he mutters under his breath, pupils growing small as he focuses on the task at hand.

Fuck.

His hand presses to the barrier and it relents in an instant, letting him pass through. You steel your resolve and follow after him, passing through shortly after.

You didn’t want to be right about the barrier, but it was too obvious what they’d set out for you. Obvious or not, it doesn’t change the horrible advantage they have over you in this location.

Before you, a jungle of steel and concrete plating and steel beams extends in every direction, towering over you. Two massive reactors can be seen a small distance behind the main building and the low hum of machinery drones around you.

Satoru takes the initiative, cautiously making his way around the side of the building in search of a door while keeping a careful eye on your surroundings. Rounding the corner behind him, you suck in a breath at the sight of a body slumped against the wall, sliced through so precisely you feel sick at just the sight of them.

“Oh god,” you whisper. Satoru pauses, numb to the sight of death. His lips are pressed into a tight line as he turns back to you.

“C’mon, keep moving,” he warns, surveying the area around you. Your grip on your sickles tightens at your sides as you hurry after him with one last uneasy glance at the pooling blood beneath what remained of the body.

A large pair of heavy steel doors stands at the end of the building like an imposing force to be reckoned with, as though it’s your first real opponent.

“Shouldn’t we take a less obvious entrance?” You query with a glance at the rest of the building.

“They won’t ambush us. They already have an advantage and that’s not Sukuna’s style,” Satoru replies with a frown. “He wants to win, fair and square.”

You nod slowly, subconsciously taking a step towards Satoru to feel the warmth of his body against you, but your movement stops an inch from his body. Right, Infinity. You almost had forgotten he had it.

Of course, he notices the way you seek the heat of his body, stopped prematurely. Cautiously, he leans down towards you, Infinity a thought of the past as he cups your face, carefully observing your crimson eyes and uncertain expression. “Will you be okay, sweet girl? Just remember to use the simple domain I taught you if you need to.”

“No- Yeah, yeah of course,” you shake your head, trying to shed your nerves. “I’m just… worried.”

With both Kento’s body somewhere within the power plant and Satoru standing before you, you can’t shake the horrible image your mind continues to conjure of both bodies limp before you with Sukuna standing over them. It sends a shiver straight up your spine. You can’t let history repeat itself.

“We’ll be okay, baby.” His tone is firm, reassuring. There isn’t a shadow of doubt in his mind, but he knows this doesn’t come second nature to you. His lips press to your forehead, lingering a moment as he breathes in your warm embrace. “Will you be okay… with Kenjaku?”

“I-” you hesitate a moment, exhaling. “Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

“Good,” he whispers against your forehead, “can’t have you going full lizard on me.”

“I take offense to that, Gojo.” Miriko speaks up from the back of your hand.

No matter how serious of a situation you find yourself in, Satoru never can resist cracking a joke. Strangely, you find yourself chuckling at your two companions, helping to ease your nerves.

Satoru’s eyes crinkle at the corners at the sight of your smile before wasting no time as he presses his palm flat on the door before him, ducking through the entrance as he enters the massive facility, holding the door for you to follow him.

Before you is a lobby with red flashing lights and hallways stretching out to either side with a set of doors lightly swinging at the end of the hall ahead. You swallow harshly at the sight of the blood-painted walls and sliced chairs, keeping your eyes fixed on the swinging doors in an effort to ignore the bodies that litter the halls.

Satoru seems unphased by the sight, confidently walking towards the doors that quietly swing back and forth in a subtle, small movement. Following after your boyfriend, you feel your blood run cold when he swings the doors open dramatically.

“Sukuna! Long time no see.”

You wish you had the same confidence as Satoru. You wish you found the same joy in fighting as Satoru did.

“Kenjaku, not a fan of the new look. It makes my girlfriend sad.”

You slide through the swinging doors behind Gojo, mustering every last ounce of confidence to face what you dread most. A massive warehouse stretches high and far on every side with several concrete and steel cylinders on either side of the facility storing the nuclear energy that likely feeds the two massive reactors you’d passed on the way in.

Standing atop one of the cylinders is, to your horror, Kenjaku. He’s adorned Kento’s body in a deep red pinstripe suit with a black button-up and yellow tie, while Yuji stands opposite him, wearing his usual school attire, however Sukuna’s tattoos adorn his face and his expression is smug and intrigued, a look that doesn’t sport the kind-hearted student you’ve come to know.

Although you’d mentally prepared, the sight of the three people you care for the most getting ready to face off is nearly enough to bring you to your knees and beg them to stop, but all you can do is remind yourself that it isn’t them.

It’s not Yuji. It’s not Kento. Neither of them would want this. You have to kill them.

The only positive is that Sukuna doesn’t appear to have been able to bury Yuji yet. He doesn’t sport the four arms you’d been warned about.

“Oh? Girlfriend, you say?” Kenjaku tilts his head and you swallow hard, biting down on the inside of your cheek as you stand at Satoru’s side in the matching clan attire.

“What a fun development,” Sukuna purrs with an amused grin. Your brow furrows at the deep chuckle that follows, “and here I thought you’d be the easy one to defeat, little Vessel.”

“Mmm, I thought I’d have you at your knees at the sight of me,” Kenjaku agrees.

You grit your teeth, muscles tensing under his sharp glare but you don’t give him the satisfaction of a response.

“You know, I think the Vessel would suit me better than this skin, don’t you think Sukuna?” Kenjaku exchanges a sly look with the tattooed curse.

Your skin crawls at the way he speaks, so out of character for Kento that your chest tightens in pain at seeing him used in such a way.

“I’m ending this,” your words are low, intended only for Satoru, whose overenthusiastic smile shifts to concern.

“Are you sure? I can take Ken-”

“You can’t attack in here, Toru,” you point out in a whisper, glancing between the barrels of nuclear energy. One attack and it would end everyone in Takahana. “I can take Kenjaku. You defend against Sukuna, it makes the most sense.”

He hesitates a moment longer, but when he steels himself, the look he shoots Sukuna is one of amusement. He unties his robe dramatically, tossing it aside with bravado and leaving him in his black compression shirt and puffy white clan pants.

“Alright Sukuna, you always said I’d be first to die, so let’s see it.” Satoru leaps forward as the two bound off of the nuclear storage containers. Satoru’s expression is entirely too thrilled, too wild for your liking, but as your boyfriend still manages to use his technique to his advantage even in such a dangerous and confined space, you know this is what he was raised to be. He’s in his element. This is The Strongest.

Your attention turns to Kenjaku, who stares at you with a bored expression unfitting of Nanami. His leg dangles from the energy silo as he waits for you to make a move. Following Satoru’s example, you pull at the tie at the front of your robe, letting it fall to the ground as well. The cool air of the facility chills the bare skin of your shoulders as you prepare to face Kenjaku.

His eyes glint in the dull light that pours in through skylights on the ceiling. “Done wasting time, my dear?”

You inhale sharply at the sound of Kento’s sultry, honeyed voice calling you his dear. Your grip on your sickles tightens and you dart forward, using cursed energy to push yourself off the ground and into the air just as Satoru had taught you in the short month since you’d been learning to fight.

Landing on the silo alongside Kenjaku, he grins widely and full of malice as he ducks out of the way of your sharpened sickle attack. You reel backwards when he attempts to slice you with a blade similarly blunt to Kento’s, though you know it isn’t his given that you have it.

Narrowly avoiding the attack, he lunges forward with a grunt, the first of many misses that’s exchanged, however you quickly realize you don’t have the skills to face off against him alone. With each narrow miss of your skin, your sickles grow further and further from reaching him. Kenjaku has well over four hundred years of training and your month isn’t stacking up to him.

“Is that all you have for me, dear?” He taunts, voice lowering to a silky murmur as he taunts you with Kento’s voice.

Don’t let him get in your head. Keep trying, I will take over when I feel the time is right. Defend.

Heeding Miriko’s words, you very narrowly manage to avoid two more strikes from Kenjaku, breaths coming in heavy pants as you leap from silo to silo, taking care not to damage the barrels of nuclear energy. You can hear Gojo laughing above you, his form casting a shadow over you from where he stands atop the building windows now.

In the split second you’d spared a glance at Gojo, the blade Kenjaku wields hits you squarely at the ratio needed to critically hit your arm. You gasp in pain, adrenaline and shock spiking through your body like a drug as your sickle hits the ground.

Grab the sickle and find somewhere to hide for long enough that I can heal you.

You huff out groan, picking up the second sickle and throwing yourself down off the silo, using the hook of your weapon to swing yourself beneath one of the raised platforms built as a walkway between barrels.

Miriko takes over, wasting no time in growing your arm back before handing control over once again.

“Oh? And here I thought I’d have the pleasure of meeting your curse.”

“Tough luck,” you grumble, parrying an attack from the curse before just barely missing your target in retaliation. The crimson suit he dons has a hefty slash through the collar now.

“This is a new suit, you know,” Kenjaku hums in disapproval, taking a step towards you and effortlessly blocking an attack before laying hits on hard and heavy.

Three.

You recognize Miriko’s signal, brow furrowing as you focus on blocking hit after hit from the blade Kenjaku has. He hasn’t yet broken a sweat and you know he’s playing with you. Your power doesn’t match his at all.

Two.

The clang of steel is piercing and Kenjaku continues to back you into a wall, seemingly figuring he has an advantage.

One.

As your back grows steadily closer to the wall beneath the steel walking platform overhead, you charge your sickles forward, eyes flashing suddenly as your hair shifts to a dramatic silver.

Kenjaku’s eyes widen as you, no, Miriko, shove him back a step and leap off the wall, swiftly moving behind him and slicing at his dominant arm. It falls to the ground with a horrible splatter as blood pools from his arm.

His lip curls in irritation as he leaps back and picks his weapon up, not yet having noticed the very slow and far weaker decay than your usual attacks that’s been imbued into your weapon. If you can keep his attention pulled from his arm, you can win this here and now.

Never daring to back down, Kenjaku tries to get into a location that betters his advantage, leaping back atop the silo. Miriko bounds after him, following his moves with practiced precision as she leaps forward with eyes on Kento’s shoulder.

Her sickle collides with the cylinder beneath and you’re mentally grateful it only collides and doesn’t pierce.

“So you’re the curse?”

“And if I am?”

Kenjaku’s lips quirk up into a grin. “All the more fun for me.”

Their battle is a dance of elegant and well-timed attacks, blocks, and dodges in comparison to your battle just moments ago. Miriko moves with precision and ease, doing what she can to keep Kenjaku’s attention from the decay steadily crawling up his arm. If it can just reach his shoulder-

Kenjaku’s expression grows frustrated as his attention is drawn to the remaining portion of his arm. Shit, of course he would notice his arm hadn’t yet healed.

His lips quirk upwards in a smile. “Clever old curse, aren’t you?”

Miriko ignores his quip with no desire for chatter, watching as he manages to use the ratio technique barely an inch over the decay and slice off the rest of his arm, healing it as easily as Miriko had healed you now that her decay wasn’t in effect.

Rolling her shoulders, Miriko spares no time in launching attack after attack on Kenjaku, a flurry of missed attacks, until finally her chance comes.

Satoru crashes down from the skylight, spotting an opportunity to create an opening with his keen Six Eyes. Catching Kenjaku off-guard, he lands squarely on top of him, his ever-present Infinity blowing the cursed spirit within Nanami off the cylinder he was standing on.

Having spotted the white-haired sorcerer mere moments before he landed, Miriko made the quick decision to throw herself off the cylinder in her best guess at the direction that Kenjaku would be launched in.

Luckily, a thousand years gives you time to learn math and physics. As Kenjaku plummets down beside her, rolling a few feet and coming to a halt on his back, her sickle is square on his chest before he can recover.

“Still having fun?” She asks with a blazing fury behind her eyes as she plunges the weapon deep within his chest. He sputters and coughs and as Nanami’s pained expression reaches your eyes when Miriko hands control back over, you suddenly feel sick all over again.

No amount of mental fortitude could prepare you to say goodbye to Kento again. With a deep breath, you remind yourself it’s not him.

“You are a unique pair,” he groans out as the decay spreads through his chest and up his neck. You stand back, letting the sickle’s power seep into the man.

Regardless of the anger you feel for what’s been done to Kento, you can’t help the tear that falls down your cheek. The sympathy you feel for someone you’ve long said goodbye to already.

Somewhere beyond my domain, I am certain he is thankful for what you have done.

Thanks, Miriko.

You crack a small smile at the curse’s strangely comforting words as the cracks of decay spread up his face. His breathing grows ragged and increasingly strained until he’s gripping painfully at the sickle, slicing his hands open as decay spreads through his limbs too.

“You don’t stand a chance against Sukuna,” he rasps. “Not with 19 fingers.”

Your lip trembles as you tug the sickle from his chest and blood pours from the laceration. Even knowing it’s not him, the pained look in his auburn eye brings you to your knees beside him.

“Go to hell, Kenjaku.”

It’s the last thing he hears before his world goes dark. Your trembling hand caresses Kento’s cheek gently and you’re grateful you can have a proper burial for him now.

You swallow hard in an effort to keep your tears at bay as your fingers loop beneath the thread that keeps Kento’s head sewn shut. With each loop of thread that you pull, bile rises in your throat until your breaths grow ragged from the mental exertion.

When finally his skull falls open, you damn near wretch, swallowing down the bile just in time as your trembling hands pull the real Kenjaku, a disgusting brain with teeth, from Nanami’s skull. Liquid drips down your fingers and wrists, warm and slimy, as you set the brain aside.

“Never again,” you whisper, jabbing the sickle into the brain. It writhes and pulses when the sickle jabs it as though Kenjaku was trying to hide his ability to stay alive through a body’s death, but you knew better. You knew of Geto. It wouldn’t happen again.

With one final twitch, the brain falls flat as decay continues to spread.

Taking a deep breath, you stand up and spare one final glance at Kento, your heart twisting in pain at the sight of him, his whole body scarred, in a suit not belonging to him, with a weapon not his own and his head hanging open. Your lip trembles as you fight the urge to… you aren’t even sure. Cry? Vomit? Scream?

You don’t have the luxury of any of those.

With a deep breath, your gaze rises to the skylight where you can see Sukuna and Satoru’s shadows moving in a flurry of precise movements. You don’t want to join them, but if you plan on saving Yuji, you’re not sure you have an option.

Wiping a tear from your cheek, you leap up the cylinders, propelling yourself up through the skylight in a crash of broken glass as you lunge at Sukuna, hoping to catch him by surprise. His senses are too keen and he easily dodges, having sensed your cursed energy a mile away.

“Oh? Is your beloved ratio sorcerer dead?” Sukuna taunts with a dark chuckle.

You all know it’s a blow to your gut but you don’t so much as flinch, remaining steady and focused. “Don’t stop your fight on my account,” you reply evenly, glancing over to Satoru to see his skin marred with shallow cuts. Your lip parts in disbelief that Sukuna could ever land a hit on him, but they do seem to be healing.

Satoru’s gaze falls to you, keeping Sukuna in his peripherals. Though he doesn’t say anything, those big blue eyes soften and his eager, battle-ready gaze calms when he meets your eyes. Swirling within his irises is a glimmering reassurance that puts you at least a hair’s width more at ease as you return his gaze silently.

All attention turns to your opponent, grinning across from you. Of course, Sukuna knows more about your abilities than Kenjaku so you won’t be able to take him by surprise like you’d done previously. Sukuna is also more cunning and he knows Miriko better than you’d like.

“Let us see what one thousand years does to a death curse,” Sukuna hums, lunging at you in the same breath as he unleashes a rain of slices down. Satoru’s before you in the blink of an eye, a grin as wide as Sukuna’s spread across his features. His infinity protects you from each of Sukuna’s attacks but Satoru can do very little other than defend given the close proximity to the reactors.

You’re no match for Sukuna, but Miriko is. Your minds meld as you swap back and forth in a flurry of missed punches, kicks, and slices from both sides. Satoru’s six eyes help him manage both your safety, the safety of the facility, and his own as Sukuna unleashes more and more powerful attacks as though testing Satoru’s limits and abilities.

The king of curses’ slices cracks the concrete structure below you and you worry for the stored nuclear energy below, but you don’t have time to think about it when you miscalculate a movement and Sukuna’s slice hits squarely across your chest. You fall back onto the hard concrete with an unfortunate thump.

Blood spills from your mouth as you reorient yourself while Satoru takes over. You allow Miriko control as she heals you before managing to bound back up to Sukuna.

Your chest heaves as the battle rages. Your muscles burn with the intensity as Satoru tosses you around with his technique, both to move you out of danger and in an attempt to surprise Sukuna.

Yet as the sun falls below the surface of the horizon outside the veil, you begin to realize that something is wrong.

Sukuna’s attack launches you back in a flurry of limbs as you hit the concrete beneath and glass embeds itself in your skin. With a cough, you get to your feet as Miriko heals you from within. Satoru stands in front of you defensively.

“You know, this would be more fun for us all if you two would attack me,” Sukuna comments with an arched brow. He knows very well the reason that you won’t, but something else occurs to you as well.

He knows something you don’t.

Something is very wrong.

The veil should have lifted by now. The plan was to lift the veil and move the battle away from the power plant, but if Yuta hadn’t found a way to dispel it yet and defeating Uraume hadn’t done it, assuming they had been able to defeat them, then what kept it up?

Satoru takes a step back to exchange a knowing glance with you, clearly coming to the same conclusion. It’s Sukuna’s veil. The only way to break the barrier is to break Sukuna. That was his plan from the start. Whether it would be him or you, he planned on having only one side leave this battle.

“Fuck,” you mumble, taking a deep breath. You’ll have to adjust your plan. “Toru?”

“I know,” he responds gravely. He knows very well what needs to be done.

So, your strategy is adjusted on the fly. Miriko takes over and launches herself at full force towards Sukuna. His eyes widen at the thrill of what he considers a real battle as her sickle narrowly misses his arm.

Satoru moves to the sidelines, swapping his strategy to defend the power plant rather than you.

Each movement burns as your muscles scream for a break, unaccustomed to this kind of a workout, but each glimpse of Satoru is your reminder to keep going. Keep pushing.

Miriko strategically swaps positions with you at precise intervals, each swap burning into your lungs uncomfortably but you don’t- can’t- stop.

As Sukuna’s slices rain down in a tempest of pain, Satoru moves his body to block the nuclear facility while it rains over you in a flurry of agony. Your jaw slacks at the pain as you stumble over the concrete ceiling that creaks beneath you, holding on by a thread.

Miriko pulls control from you, working through the pain to heal you when she spots a single moment, a single opening.

A chance.

Sukuna and Satoru banter effortlessly while Sukuna pays attention to the sorcerer for just a moment too long. Miriko manages to get into his space, close enough to slash him if she can just manage to-

In an instant, Sukuna’s attention is returned to you and he bats the sickles away with a thrilled grin.

But at the end of the day if this is her only chance-

She has to take it.

Her hand connects with his shoulder in place of the sickle. His eyes widen, expression changing to one of shock as decay spreads through him from his shoulder just as quickly as it rises up your arm.

Sukuna flails backwards and Satoru takes the opportunity to slam into Sukuna with the full force of his infinity, blasting through the side of the buildings and forcing all of you to the small dirt area at the side of the building. It doesn’t offer much space until the edge of the barrier but it’s better than the potential of the roof collapsing.

Miriko heaves in each breath, making a constant effort to stave off the decay as it attempts to spread through your body. Your left hand dangles at your side, cracks trailing up to your jaw and blinding your left eye. Even for her, it’s intensely painful.

“Y/n!” Satoru calls your name, trying to reach your side only for Sukuna to raise his undamaged hand and throw a battering of cleaved slashes in the direction of a reactor and, in turn, Satoru.

Miriko? Even internally, your question is painful. You’re scared.

I apologize, y/n. I am uncertain of any other options.

Sukuna seems mostly unphased by the damage as he continues to attack Gojo, paying little mind to the heavily damaged Miriko who stands a small distance away, evaluating options.

I am truly sorry, y/n.

What?

Sukuna’s had a thousand years to perfect healing Miriko’s technique, yet it still isn’t an easy task. Regardless, the decay still lingers for enough time that there’s a chance. His movements are sluggish enough that there’s another opening.

“NO!” Satoru’s voice pierces the air like a siren, a warning that Sukuna is a split-second too slow to avoid. Miriko’s hand connects with the curse’s legs as she swipes low at him, pulling life from him in order to heal her own decay, however as the stone gray texture spreads up through his body beyond what Miriko can heal, she has to swap her technique again to damage you more.

She doesn’t dare disconnect her hand, her technique inversing itself as the decay spreads back through you and cracks through Sukuna’s lower right eye. He hisses and shatters your arm as he manages to back out of your grasp.

It could work, Miriko could split him and Yuji if she could just-

Decay wraps around your heart as Miriko’s focus wanes, cradling your vital organ like a baby but as she works to stave off the damage and keep you alive, your body collapses. Her breathing grows ragged, the shine in your eyes fading.

Satoru should take the shot. He should risk the facility and take the shot, kill Sukuna, but that’s not what the haze in his mind tells him as control returns to you and your body convulses on the ground.

“Nonono, no, y/n, no,” he breathes out, falling to his knees at your side. He hears Sukuna’s victorious chuckle behind him, ignoring it as he pulls you into his arms, his touch so gentle and delicate you would think you were a flower.

You are his flower. His world, his everything.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, I told you we’d be okay. I- I promised,” he whispers, unsure if you can even hear him as your eyes glaze over. You’re breathing so faintly that fear spikes through him and his eyes go wide with horror. “Stay with me, baby. Come on, Shoko’s just outside, we- we can-” he hesitates, but he knows the barrier won’t let either of you through.

“This is pathetic to watch,” Sukuna hisses with a triumphant grin. Half of his body is still wholly covered in graying cracks and one arm hangs limp at his side. It’s healing slowly but at the end of the day it’s not worth it if you’re not there with him. It’s not worth it if you die and he still has to kill Yuji. Not after everything you’ve been through together.

“You don’t win this, Sukuna. You know that, right?” Satoru’s pupils are pinpricks as he stares at Sukuna, a crazed smile quirking his gorgeous lips up. The curse’s eyes widen, frowning at the sorcerer as he tries to decipher Satoru’s words.

The white-haired man laughs at the distraught and confused expression he receives, his grip on you intensifying.

“Miriko, are you still in there?”

Neither you or her respond, but your eyes flash alight with a glowing crimson that he recognizes as a sign.

“Princess?” His voice softens as he returns his full attention to you, holding you close to his chest, keeping that fading consciousness with him as you cling to life. “I should have said it sooner, but you’re my world. My everything.” He pauses, steeling himself to keep back his tears as he speaks. “I know I’ve said it before but I was a fucking dumbass and you didn’t deserve that and now…”

He shoots a sidelong glance at a confused Sukuna, knowing he needs to speed up his speech if he’s planning on keeping you with him and giving you the shot he knows you have to take as Sukuna is still immobile.

“Now I took everything from you, all over again. I… Don’t think I can live with myself for that. So just know that I’m sorry,” he pauses again, letting out a trembling breath as he cradles your face with his hand. “I love you, y/n,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours. Your lips twitch in an attempt to respond, but you’re too weak.

Satoru Gojo has spent so long thinking he’s the strongest sorcerer, the strongest man, the strongest- well- everything. Yet in this moment, one where you’ve sacrificed your entire life to help him protect Yuji and still failed, one where somehow Sukuna is the one still standing while he cradles the dying body of the person he loves most, he feels hopelessly weak.

His lip trembles as it parts from yours, still brushing the soft skin of your lips as he whispers something meant for only you and Miriko.

“Now, Miriko.”

Life surges back through your body as Miriko grips Satoru tightly. His gorgeous blue eyes fade just as your crimson ones had and the curse within you doesn’t spare a glance back at him as she tackles the king of curses to the ground.

NO!

You scream as you try to pull control from Miriko, but your consciousness is lost in a haze, trapped behind a fog that seems endless. Where normally you would sit comfortably on Miriko’s ship, you’re now trapped in an endless pale fog. Its grip on you is tight and your consciousness falls to your knees, sobbing, begging, screaming.

You can’t feel pain in this form, and yet your lungs and throat sear. Your eyes burn. Pain tears through your body like claws ripping at flesh, threatening to tear you apart from within.

MIRIKO!

You scream for her, but she doesn’t respond.

MIRIKO, PLEASE! Not again, not- please- I can’t-

You can’t even tell if she hears you until suddenly the fog dispels and you’re in an unfamiliar environment.

Your breaths come in harsh pants as you take in your surroundings. The harsh iron smell of blood taints the air and you wrinkle your nose in an attempt to keep the rising bile down. Before you sits a pile of bones while a massive rib cage stretches overhead.

Atop the pile of bones, Miriko’s massive form ducks and weaves through slashes and slices, attacking Sukuna with everything she has. Within his innate domain, he’s at his full force with no need for domain expansion. This is a dangerous play.

“Y/n!” Yuji’s voice cuts through the haze as his footsteps approach quickly, splashing the thick crimson liquid at your feet up your body with each rushed step.

“Yuji?” Your eyes travel slowly from the curses to your student.

“Shit, you look bad,” he comments.

“Thanks,” you mutter.

He shoots you a wry smile, offering you a hand. “Are you alright?” He asks apprehensively as he pulls you to your feet. You’re certain he knows what’s happened, you’re certain he saw through Sukuna’s eyes.

“I’m fine,” you lie, but your voice breaks.

Taking a shaky breath, you spare a glance at Yuji. He looks fairly battered from his fight with Kenjaku and Uraume earlier, but he’s in better spirits than you in spite of everything.

It’s a tragic end to everything, really. To think that you and your student would watch everything and everyone you love get torn down and killed by your own hands and neither of you could do anything but watch.

What a cruel end.

History repeated itself after all.

Miriko cries out in pain as her arm is sliced off. She works to use the reverse cursed technique as she continues her mountain of attacks on Sukuna.

“We can beat him,” Yuji says suddenly, pulling your attention away. You shoot him a questioning glance, although you’re certain he can see defeat written plainly on your expression. “We can beat him and then maybe…” he trails off hesitantly. You nudge him in an attempt to get him to continue. “Maybe if we win, Shoko can…”

Heal Satoru.

It’s too late, you know it is. But if this is what your life was leading to, then fuck it. You’d be damned if it was the king of curses who walks out of this barrier and not Yuji. Even if Satoru and you are left dead, Yuji will live. He had to. Kento and Satoru wouldn’t die for nothing.

“What did you have in mind?”

“We just need to get close enough to hold him down for Miriko. I should be able to get to him if you can distract him.”

You nod solemnly, sparing a glance at the curses that now danced elegantly above the ribs that tower over Sukuna’s innate domain within Itadori.

Miriko slinks around a rib as she whips her tail at the curse.

You leap up the bone pile, letting Yuji throw you upwards until you walk along the long spine.

“Sukuna!” You call, but he pays you no mind. Without Miriko, you’re an insect to him. And you know that. Which is why you play dirty. After all, if he won’t respect you, then you needn’t pay him any respect. “Now, Gojo!”

Sukuna’s eyes widen as he takes in your words.

It’s not Satoru that attacks though, it’s Yuji that tackles Sukuna off the ribs and down into the pile of bones below. The pile clatters as Sukuna and Yuji disperse them and Miriko falls after him.

She moves with urgency as she wraps her snake-like body around the curse once, twice, three times, as decay takes its hold on Sukuna.

“You insect!” He hisses in disbelief as he unleashes wave after wave of cleaves into Miriko’s body.

You watch with anticipation as cracks scatter across Sukuna’s body, over the muscles of his tattooed arms and up his jaw, all the while Miriko falls apart around him with each powerful slash that slices through her scaly flesh.

To your horror, although his body is nearly entirely stone, it’s Miriko’s muscles that twitch and falter first and allow what remains of Sukuna to escape. He chuckles darkly, turning his attention to you.

“No,” you whisper, collapsing to your knees as you stare down at Miriko’s body, limp on the ground.

Sukuna’s skin slowly regains its structure, graying cracks fading and healing gradually as he grins at you. “Did you think you had won, little vessel?” He asks tauntingly.

Kento, Satoru, now Miriko too. They all lay dead at the hands of this monster.

Yuji uses the distraction to leap into action, eyes fiery as he goes hand-to-hand in combat with Sukuna while you sit helplessly and watch. What else can you do? Your technique is dead on the ground below.

Yet… you’re still here. Still using her technique to enter Sukuna’s domain. Your eyes train down to the pool of blood below, looking over Miriko’s body. She’s still in pieces, but she’s in fewer pieces than she was.

Your lips part as you realize all hope isn’t lost, Yuji just needs to bide his time. You silently fall to the pool of blood, letting the warm liquid cover your body as you find Miriko’s head. She doesn’t move when you set your hands on her snout, but her pupil shifts to you.

You don’t dare blow her cover, you don’t dare make a sound.

Her pupils roll over to watch Sukuna again, still distracted by Yuji’s flurry of punches. Sukuna gripes loudly about him using dismantle, his own cursed technique, against him, and you’re glad your training with him paid off.

Miriko’s muscles tense under your fingers and you realize she’s ready to strike, when suddenly the course of battle changes. You would recognize this feeling anywhere. It’s nothing, it’s everything.

It’s Satoru.

Infinite Void.

Your chest tightens as you search frantically for him, but he’s nowhere to be found. No, he’s turning the tides in your favor with whatever power he has left, just as Miriko had brought up months ago.

You frantically look between Sukuna and Yuji, both paralyzed by the domain. Beneath you, Miriko shifts. By all accounts, she shouldn’t be able to move. But unlike last time when Satoru kept only you safe from his domain and Miriko was unable to move, you now were keeping her safe within the innate domain as well. The three of you connected as one within the Infinite Void.

Your fingers tangle in the serpentine curse’s mane as she slinks forward, blood staining her white scales and silver hair.

Under usual circumstances, Miriko is the most angelic form of death, the most merciful end, and you’re her gentle and kind vessel. Covered in the blood of Sukuna’s domain with anger coursing through your veins, you’re the ruler of hell and she’s your most loyal demon.

You leap from Miriko, pulling Yuji away from her form as she wraps herself around Sukuna once more. Satoru’s grip slips just in time for Miriko to wrap around him once again.

“Six Eyes,” Sukuna snarls in disbelief as he unleashes cleave attacks against Miriko again. You watch in horror with Yuji as Miriko’s body falls to shreds once more with each slice through her scales, blood spurting from each laceration.

The difference between this time and last, however, is that Sukuna was already nearing death. And so even as Miriko’s grip on Sukuna slips, so too does his hold on life, and his hold on Yuji Itadori.

Miriko falls to the ground and as she does, she leaves behind a statue of what was once Sukuna.

“She did it,” you whisper in disbelief, taking a step towards Miriko. She shuffles in an effort to face you, red eyes flickering as she searches for you, but her eyes are glazed over, blood dripping from her lashes. She’s blind.

“Miriko?”

“I am sorry, y/n.”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, swallowing down the bile rising in your throat as you rest your hands on her snout. She writhes under your touch, her long whiskers twitching as her tongue tastes the air.

“I promised him, you know.”

“Promised who, Miriko?”

“When you were recovering. I promised Gojo that should the time come, I would save you by taking his life.” She exhales heavily and you watch in horror as her detached foot twitches at your side.

Adrenaline, grief, fear, you aren’t sure which one it is that’s keeping you numb, but you don’t realize you’re crying until a tear wets your hand, slipping down to her scales. Your hands tremble as everything begins to crash in on you.

“That asshole,” you whimper, more tears falling down onto Miriko’s scales below.

“Don’t cry, little one.” The timbre of her voice changes as she rasps her breaths.

“Can’t you heal?”

She chuckles lightly, her snout rumbling beneath you.

“Take care, y/n. You make good company.”

“No, no, please. Miriko,” you beg, clutching at her but you feel the innate domain of Sukuna fading and the serpentine curse needs to sever the connection between Sukuna and Yuji before it’s too late.

You glance back desperately at Yuji, your chest heaving as you gasp for air.

“Miriko, you have to heal, please,” you beg, tears falling down your cheeks as you sob, falling to your knees.

When next you open your eyes, Yuji sits before you, alive, though his gaze is distant. Where once there was decay, he’s healed now. From within the innate domain, Sukuna must have healed him, expecting to win. The veil has dispelled but there’s no sign of the rest of the sorcerers.

With his knees pulled to his chest and a forlorn expression, your student stares at you with a clearly guilty conscience in spite of the fact that he has no reason to feel responsible for what’s transpired. You swallow your agony as you muster your most convincing reassuring smile, trying to be the responsible adult, but Yuji’s focus is already on something behind you.

Blinking away the disorientation of the innate domain, you feel your chest tighten when you whip your head around, seeing Satoru’s limp body splayed across the ground with his hair over his face. His hand loosely clutches your ankle, other hand still just barely holding the familiar hand sign of his domain expansion.

“Toru?” Your voice barely manages to penetrate the air, not even loud enough to call a whisper.

You scramble to his side, pulling him desperately into your arms. His body is decayed from his feet to just beneath his chest. Miriko must have spread the decay to him from your feet in an effort to potentially save him.

It’s moments like these that make you question whether ‘curse’ was the correct term for her.

Your lip trembles as Satoru’s figure lays limp in your arms. Your mind seems to move slower than your body as your entire frame shakes with your relentless sobs, barely allowing you an opportunity to breathe.

“Gojo-Sensei! Y/n! Yuji!”

Yuta’s voice is a distant sound, blanketed by the shrill ring in your ears with blurred vision as you hold your boyfriend close to you. You bury your head into his shoulder, gripping at him desperately.

Yuta bolts over to you, setting his sword aside as he falls to the ground beside you, although you don’t fully process that it’s him. In truth, you’re not sure you care. It doesn’t matter much at this point, because your love is gone.

In your peripherals, Yuta kneels at your side, looking over Satoru. Shortly behind him is Shoko, who kneels opposite you, healing his surface-level wounds.

“Y/n,” Shoko softly whispers, lost on you. She repeats your name once more, setting her hand over yours. Blinking tears away, you meet Shoko’s gentle gaze, her kind eyes and reassuring smile easing your pain just long enough to hear what she has to say. “Look,” she says softly.

You follow where she points at his torso, eyes widening at the spot where his shirt rides up as you see that slowly but surely, the cracks are healing.

“Is- Is he…?”

“He’s stubborn, is what he is,” Shoko smiles at you with sunken eyes. “Satoru, you dumbass,” she sighs, placing her hand an inch away from him in an attempt to speed up the healing process.

Yuji comes to join you after reuniting with Choso and Kusakabe, all waiting with bated breath to see if he would awaken.

You aren’t sure how long you wait when a muscle twitches beneath your fingertips.

“Satoru?” You whisper desperately, biting your lip as your heart pounds in your ears. His expression is so serene that you wonder if he was an angel in another lifetime. His skin is flawless, with the faintest hint of stubble on his chin that matches the color of his lashes and gorgeous white hair. You feel like you stare at him for an eternity, when it happens again.

His muscle twitches.

“Toru? I need you baby, please, I-”

His low groan cuts you off as one eye flickers open and you let out a gasp, relieved when he shifts in your arms, leaning into your warm embrace.

“You didn’t say it back,” he rasps as tears fall from your eyes like a river, relief coursing through you.

“Oh my god Toru, I love you too, I thought I lost you and I didn’t know what to do, you scared me, you idiot-” your words come out as a ramble when you hug him tight to you. The crowd around you has been long tuned out as you bawl into Satoru’s shoulder. The world slows for you, allowing you the moment to yourselves.

“Hey, pretty girl, I’m here,” he coos, hushing you softly as he reaches up to gently stroke your hair. “I’m here, my love.”

“I thought I lost you too,” you cry, voice breaking and betraying your relief. It’s all so overwhelming to love, to lose, over and over and over, that you clutch to him desperately as though you might lose him again.

“I promised you we’d all be okay,” he whispers, pushing himself up as he heals more. His lips brush yours softly before he kisses you languidly, savoring the moment as though it’s his last. “I meant it.”

Your mouth goes dry as your eyes remain shut and you breathe his living scent in, trying to bury your face into his shoulder again.

“C’mere, love,” he urges, shuffling to take your head in his hands. He lifts your face to his, pulling you into another tender kiss. “I love you,” he murmurs against your lips, eyes fluttering open. “And I should have fucking said it earlier,” he chuckles dryly, averting his eyes guiltily.

“I love you too,” you whisper back, voice growing even enough that Satoru’s heart flutters. You’d succeeded. He’d kept his promise. Everything would be okay and you had your way out now, you could finally leave the world of curses and sorcerers and it’s all he could ever want for you.

When your eyes open again, Satoru’s eyes widen. It’s the first good look he’s gotten at you since waking up and his lips purse, brow furrowing. “Your eyes…” he whispers.

Your head tilts as you sniffle, unsure of what he means, until it clicks. Miriko is dead. Your eyes have returned to their natural color. “Oh,” your voice breaks, your grip on him tightening. “Yeah. They were only red because of Miriko.”

Satoru sighs, understanding passing over his features as he solemnly drops his head. You embrace the moment of silence, each paying respects to the curse that likely saved the world and only a small crowd would ever know. “She’ll be back someday, you know. It might be a lifetime from now, but she’ll be back.”

“I think she severed the connection between Yuji and Sukuna and then herself and me. If she didn’t then I… I should be dead, shouldn’t I?”

Satoru grimaces. “You should be,” he answers. “I owe her one for trying to avoid my heart with her attack and bringing my girl back to me,” he whispers hoarsely, a bittersweet timbre to his tone.

Your heart jumps to your throat, pounding as he calls you his girl. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” You tell him suddenly, the words falling from your lips before you have time to process what you’ve said.

His brow furrows.

“I thought I wouldn’t be able to say that I love you back again,” you tell him, pinching his shoulder. He recoils, playful frustration passing over his features. “Gimme a break, I told you I shoulda said it earlier,” he grumbles, pouting.

You sigh, leaning your forehead into him. “Just… don’t you dare pull that sort of shit again,” you mumble. He huffs out a sigh, caressing you tightly against his toned form just as he regains movement in his feet.

“I promise, my love.”

You lift your head to look at him. His pout fades, replaced easily by a mesmerized smile, absolutely lost in your gorgeous eyes. “Shit, you have beautiful eyes. I mean you always did, but-” he shakes his head “-I had no idea they weren’t always red.”

Your smile doesn’t quite meet your eyes, after all, you still have a lot to process, but Satoru is just thrilled to be alive to see the way your lips curve so beautifully, the way a timid laugh slips through them as you hold back your grateful tears.

Thank you, Miriko. Thank you for keeping us all alive.

She doesn’t respond, of course, but you hope somewhere out there in whatever afterlife she’s experiencing, that she’s watching over you both.

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a/n || wowowow i just want to say thank you as always for all the support and i'm sorry for the ANGST. holy this hurt to write </3 but i hope you all enjoy and stick with me for the next and final chapter full of fluff ♡

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