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Satoru’s first real Christmas had been with Suguru.
He could still remember it and how appalled both Shoko and Suguru had been when he’d told them he’d never really celebrated Christmas. It just hadn’t been a big thing in his clan, and besides, what Six Eyes user would ever be invested in such a small thing?
But he’d never forget how Yaga had given them the day off for Christmas and how the three of them had all celebrated in the dorms. Satoru had accidentally left some eggshells in the cake they’d made and their small celebration had been interrupted by Suguru’s parents calling for an entire hour.
In his second year at Jujutsu High, he’d asked Suguru out on Christmas Eve to explore the Christmas market in Tokyo. He’d been sure to make exaggerated kissy sounds and to bat his eyelashes while asking to the point Suguru had sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose even though he’d agreed.
Satoru hadn’t even needed to claim it was a joke, but why would he need to when Suguru understood him so well? Why would he claim it was one when he’d sometimes have dreams of Suguru?
In the end, joke or not, it had been fun. Glittering lights lit up Tokyo in dazzling displays and snow had fallen that night. Satoru had almost puked into a random alleyway from all the hot chocolate he’d drunk and cake he’d gorged himself on. Suguru had carried him back to their dorms on his back due to Satoru whining about his self-inflicted stomach ache.
The third Christmas he’d celebrated wasn’t filled with the same joy and wonder the past ones had been. Instead, Shoko had been working that night on a sorcerer who’d come in injured from a fight. Suguru hadn’t wanted to go out, and despite how oblivious Satoru acted, he hadn’t put up a fight to go and do something when the energy had been stripped from Suguru and dark eyebags weighed him down.
He’d thought it would be something Suguru would eventually move on from, a painful memory he’d move past with time. Death had always been a normal occurrence for Satoru, one his clan had made sure to desensitise him to at a young age. He’d mourned Riko in his own way before he’d shoved those emotions in a box to never be opened again.
Suguru had smiled that night, though. Satoru’s present for him had been small, nothing more than a picture of all three of them, but it had caused Suguru to finally crack a smile that hadn’t been forced for the first time in months. They’d fallen asleep together that night, the two of them squeezed into one of the dorm beds, and Satoru had been so sure things would somehow work out.
It would only be years later when he’d realize why he’d felt so deeply that things would be okay so long as he’d been with Suguru. Maybe Suguru’s mere presence between stolen moments between missions had been enough for him, but he hadn’t been enough for Suguru.
Love was a curse. It appeared as if a beautiful blessing, but could twist itself into an aching and all consuming pain if given the chance.
Suguru’s body was cold in Satoru’s arms.
It had been difficult to dig his grave and to force the shovel through frozen ground, but Satoru had managed it without any help from cursed energy. Only himself and the sweat which coated his back.
Satoru’s blindfold hung around his neck and dirt had found its way beneath his usually perfectly manicured nails. He’d have blisters on his hands within hours from digging.
Suguru’s heart no longer beat as Satoru lowered him into the grave. He knew Suguru and how he wouldn’t have wanted to be burnt to ash or locked up in some coffin. He’d have wanted to give back to the world somehow even in death and let his body return to the cycle. No other option would have allowed his wishes to be fulfilled.
Despite his missing arm and his bloodied clothes, Suguru finally seemed at peace as he lay in the ground. Bags still etched lines beneath his eyes, but he could rest now. He’d been so tired, hadn’t he? He’d been expecting Satoru at the end and called for a war he could have never won. He must have known that and his miniscule chances of getting what he’d been after.
Satoru’s hand shook as he grabbed a handful of dirt from the soil he’d dug out of the ground.
He stood over Suguru’s grave, yet he couldn’t let go. It wasn’t the dirt in his hand he had to release. Not really. He’d never tracked Suguru down for ten years. He’d even let him walk away after a declaration of war.
Even at the end, it had been Suguru who’d given him a soft smile and encouragement as he’d held Satoru’s shaking hand by the wrist and pointed it toward his heart.
Satoru’s eyes stung and his vision went blurry. He hadn’t cried since then. Instead, he’d pasted a smile on his face so he could congratulate his students and lift them up after the battle. His own problems and emotions weren’t something the kids were supposed to worry about, so he’d hid them just as he always did. Youths weren’t to be burdened by the problems of adults.
First one tear slid down his cheek and then another and another. He couldn’t hope Suguru had found his own happiness anymore. He wouldn’t encounter his cursed energy residuals while walking around Tokyo, and he wouldn’t show up at a mission only to find the curse mysteriously missing.
A sob strangled Satoru as he tried to push it down. He’d never been a crier, but he couldn’t stop the sob from finally forcing its way up his throat. He couldn’t stop the tears that seemed never ending or how his chest shook from the force of his crying.
He wasn’t the strongest like this. Not even a Gojo or a teacher. Just Satoru. A man who’d sunk to his knees as he cried over the corpse of the only one who’d ever understood him as a person. The only one he’d ever been able to feel at home with.
“I loved you. I love you, Suguru,” Satoru sobbed, his words so broken even he could barely understand them. Dirt fell from his hand and onto the ground beneath him. “Why did we only have three years? Why?”
Those three years had been the best of his life and the time he looked back on whenever he needed to remind himself why he kept going. Why he strove for a better world. Two years of happiness and bliss. The third one tainted with sorrow and the reality of the world, but with Suguru still at his side.
“I’ve spent the rest of my time missing you. All this time, Suguru. Why did you think I’d ever hate you? Why didn’t you understand!” Satoru yelled at the grave. That day, he’d just wanted to know why, yet Suguru had believed Satoru to be condemning him. “It didn’t matter to me what you did! I missed you and I never stopped loving you, you idiot! And I still do!”
Suguru didn’t stir or respond. Instead he continued to lay there, his eyes closed and face relaxed as if in a deep slumber. Suguru couldn’t hear him now and Satoru’s feelings didn’t matter as he screamed them into the empty air and at the corpse of his best friend.
Instead, a bird chirped as it flew overhead. The wind sent the trees shivering around the edge of the clearing Satoru knelt in and the bite of it pierced through Satoru’s uniform.
“I’ve only been here a couple times since you left,” Satoru whispered as the anger drained from him. “It always hurts too much and it’s a pain to get here. Remember how we used to test out your new curses here since it was far enough from the school? It was our place. I had my first snowball fight here with you and in the spring you always loved the wildflowers that bloomed here. I bet you’ll make them grow even better here. They’ll love you just like you loved them.”
Only silence met Satoru, but Suguru had always liked that. Unlike Satoru, he’d always loved to savor the silence of the woods and the peace of such a place. Nothing would disturb him now. No missions and no curses. All he’d be bothered by would be Satoru, just like when they’d been teens.
“Will you be happy resting here?” Satoru asked. No answer came, but he knew Suguru well enough that he’d approve of his burial place, even if it was technically within campus.
Maybe like this, Suguru would be with him to see what Satoru would turn the place into. No student would ever be smothered and used up again. Not when Satoru was around.
“Wait for me, won’t you?” Satoru started as he picked up a handful of dirt once again. He’d said what he’d wanted to. “I’m not sure how long I’ll take, but I’ll always be yours, you know? I’ll ask Shoko to scatter my ashes here since there’s no chance in hell they won’t burn me to ash. I’m too much of a liability to do anything else with.”
Satoru got to his feet again and took one last look at Suguru’s face. Hopefully it wouldn’t be as difficult for Shoko to let go of him when his time came. She’d probably outlive all of them.
“You can rest now, Suguru. You’re safe here with me,” Satoru whispered before he let the first handful of dirt fall on Suguru’s body.
It took another hour to fully bury Suguru, and while he had no doubt the shovel he brought back would say it all, they wouldn’t get an answer out of him to where he’d buried Suguru. They wouldn’t dig him up and burn him. Not if Satoru had any say on the matter.
Satoru straightened as he walked back and tied the blindfold around his head once again. No one would ever see his puffy and red eyes. The dirt under his nails however was a different story entirely, but that would wash off.
As Satoru stepped onto campus grounds again, he pasted a smile onto his face he didn’t feel and forced a bounce into his steps. The strongest wasn’t burdened with negative emotions and a teacher never doubted themselves. He could be anyone here save for himself.
When Satoru barged into the dorms, waking up all his students and announcing their trip into town for a Christmas breakfast, no one but Yuuta took so much as a second look at him. The kid had always been too sensitive for his own good, but all too soon he got dragged into the general excitement and grumbling of his classmates.
It could be years, but Satoru would make Jujutsu Tech a place Suguru would love to be at rest in and a place he would have been able to thrive in as a kid. No more tragedies like his would happen again. Not while Satoru taught.
When spring came, no wildflowers bloomed over Suguru’s grave.