Chapter Text
The distant patter of raindrops in the background did nothing to calm Satoru's restless mind from the chaos swirling inside his head. His footsteps are a quiet ambience along the empty hall as he walks to his destination; Yaga's office.
This was something he expected. He wished that there was a way around it, he really did. He wished with every piece of his heart he had left; with every piece that he hadn't yet given away or sacrificed, that this day wouldn't come. His fingers itched to tug his blindfold, a nervous habit he gained, that he's kept a secret. Because people can't handle vulnerability from the strongest. He needs to keep up this front- this belief that everything would be ok now and forever, no matter how much he just wants to collapse in his bed from exhaustion and expectation.
The endless pattern of wood on the floor comes to a stop infront of Yaga's office; he's here. He pauses, hands lingering in his pockets, before he accepts the inevitably of it all, and tugs on the shōji, sliding it open and walking into his office.
And there he was.
Even though he doesn't want to, he cant help it. It doesn't matter what Yaga does or says; he was his teacher, his father figure that he never got to have. No matter how distant or professional they are now, he'll never forget the days when he was young and foolish, with a teacher who tolerated his behavior and accepted a new version of him that bloomed when he left his clan's compound.
"Satoru."
His voice cuts through the silence. Its like even the low, dull drone of rain, has stopped to listen to what he has to say. He sits at his desk, papers strewn across it, a stark contrast to his usual tidy behavior. He has subtle bags under his eyes, and a unreadable gleam in said eyes. It sends a pang of guilt through Satoru, as he assumes he's the cause of such chaos.
"...Principal Yaga."
He meets the stare of Yaga, and he knows what's coming. Gojo slides the shōji closed and stands there. He shifts awkwardly as Yaga doesn't invite him to sit. This isn't one of their meetings where Masamichi is put together and composed. This is a period of time where he's frustrated; exasperated, even, with Satorus actions. And its definitely shown through his body language. He isn't afraid to make it clear that he's upset with Gojo.
"Satoru. You let him go, **again.**" he sighs, running a hand down his face. "I know its hard to do this- its beyond hard. But you're the strongest. You cant let Suguru run around, killing people. I expected better from you."
A lump forms in Satoru's throat- that feeling when you're upset but not upset enough to do something stupid. Like cry.
Its unfair.
Its so fucking unfair, that he's expected to kill his one and only. His soulmate. His friend.
"Can't we pardon him?" He winces behind his blindfold, drawing in a sharp breath. What a stupid question to ask. Of course he cant be pardoned. He's killing non-sorcerers left and right. Yagas expression mirrors his thoughts.
"No, we can't. We also cant let him continue killing these people, Satoru. You need to do something. Soon. Or else the higher ups will get someone else to do it. They expect you to get it done before they implement those measures."
He suppresses showing how his words affected him. He stops from shivering when a chill runs down his spine. He stops from frowning when dread fills his chest. Because even though there's a curse user running around and he's expected to stop it, its also **Suguru.**
And he cant ever think of a world without him; nor a world where he's hurt him.
That's impossible.
"Well then put him in a mental facility. His technique is useful, we could always find a way to use it." He swallows back anything else, any other words that could possibly slip out.
He hates talking about him in such a cold, detached way.
Yaga gives him a look.
"Its unlikely that the higher ups will-"
"'Unlikely' my ass. I don't give a damn about the higher ups. I cant just... kill him. I don't care what you do, just find a way. Please."
A hint of vulnerability slips through his tone as his voice cracks.
Shit.
Yaga frowns, staring at Satoru for a second before looking down at his papers. A tense silence fills the room as he rubs the back of his neck, eyeing the mess on his desk.
Minutes pass.
Satoru silently counts the seconds in the back of his mind before Masamichi speaks.
"I will try. But I cant guarantee higher ups will agree."
A positive thrill hits Gojo like a brick. "Principal-"
"But."
Satoru pauses.
"You still need to find him. And he will be held in the higher ups custody until you can prove that he's mentally unwell. I doubt anyone will take him into their custody."
"I will."
"I expected that."
a small huff escapes Satoru. That painful lump in his throat hasn't dispersed yet; in fact, its gotten worse. He's trying hard for his voice not to break or catch. Deep, warm, steady breaths; like Suguru taught him, before the summer where everything fell apart, after a long mission that left him irritable and exhausted.
And for once,
The strongest was left with nothing to say. No more words to plead. No actions to take back the decision that was now made; because he refuses to go back.
And he's left feeling stripped of his pride, his confidence, his facade he uses as a mask to keep people at bay.
It makes him feel bare.
Left out in the open, all for his old teacher to see.
It makes him internally squirm.
"I will try, Satoru, to put him in your custody. But only because I know how you and Suguru were. And I hope you can bring him back to who he was, Before the Star Plasma Vessel mission."
He can only nod. This is a precious chance he has. He takes a step back, turning to leave.
He needs to get out of here before he loses his shit in front of Yaga.
"One more thing, Satoru."
He pauses, hand on the shōji.
"If everything passes the higher ups, and he's placed into your custody, he can always be removed. Don't mess up."
The reminder is sharp, just enough for Satoru to understand. Don't get entangled with him.
Just bring him back to the Suguru they knew.
Make him stable.
Let them think you both were friends.
And forget the late night kisses.
The outings.
The quiet cuddles on the school rooftops.
With no response, Satoru pushes open the shōji and leaves Yaga to his own devices.