Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

1

The popsicle in his hand was melting.

Light blue–a cold color that almost matched the hue of his eyes–liquid dripped onto the ground, trailing along the cracks on the pavement before seeping into the dirt beneath. Gojo tasted fresh mint and lemon on his tongue, bringing him some relief from the humid afternoon’s sun.

“Satoru, if you don’t hurry up and finish it, it’s going to be completely melted soon.” Getou's voice came from beside him.

Gojo stuck the half melted popsicle into his mouth and tossed the emptied stick into the trash.

It was oddly hot today and he could feel the irritation sinking its claw into all the passerby’s hearts.

The weather was a tricky thing. Too hot or too cold would always trigger a new small burst of curses. They were nothing violent but they were numerous in numbers, sometimes the darkness felt endless even. Wave after wave, the cycle continued as long as day still ended in nights and nights still turned into days.

No matter how many he killed, more would always show up again.

Those heroes and life coaches on TV liked to say that happiness was all similar but people’s misfortune came in different flavors. Gojo hadn’t given it too deep of a thought but he knew that philosophy didn’t feel right to him. Misfortune was all the same. It was the similar kinds of vile things being repeated across history and around the globe. Hunger, pain, heart breaks, losing a loved one…it was all just the same boundless and heavy shadow that feasted upon people’s hearts no matter the time and place.

People tend to lump everything as “tragedies” and this world was never short of those.

Gojo could understand it but he didn’t feel anything particular about it. It wasn’t as if he had never seen death or other forms of tragedies before but just like how life and death were merely fleeting concepts, he felt nothing during each encounter. He understood it, knew the how and what and why things happened because of the constant flow of information his eyes provided his brain but that was it.

He just couldn’t relate to it. Other people’s pain and sorrows were simply just that–other people’s problems. As far as he was concerned, life was good and smooth sailing.

Normal doctors might diagnose there to be something seriously wrong with him, labeling him with a bunch of medical terminologies and grouping him under the umbrella of some mouthful acronyms. Or even feed him some pills in their little blue and white capsules and chat with him on a weekly basis…good thing that he wasn’t born in a regular family or he was pretty sure he’d be black listed from a lot of hospitals.

Gojo didn’t think there was anything atrociously wrong with his way of life.

He was young and strong, born in a family of long traditions with immense wealth and high status. For the most part, everybody in his life had regarded him as a god on earth and yeah, that part was a bit annoying at times. He didn’t like the ton of rigid rules or sitting still like a statue for people to worship. He didn’t like the way the adults smiled at him, spewing lies and assessing his worth as if they thought he didn’t know better, like they could control him with a few pretty words and hearty laughs.

It was sickening.

Gojo Satoru was the Gojo clan’s rising star, a beacon of hope to bring the whole family to greatness like in the ancient times. The old geezers always loved to reminisce about the glorious old days, where their ancestors were treated as noble guests in the emperor’s court and well respected by the mundane. His family was still influential, remaining as one of the elite three clans that was at the top of the jujutsu world and had deep connections with the government.

But that wasn’t enough for the adults.

They prided themselves in all their traditions and honor, calling themselves protectors and ridiculing heroes for those quirked freaks were dressed in embarrassing flamboyant clothing, appeasing the public like clowns. Little did they know they were also clowns in Gojo’s eyes.

Jujutsu sorcerers or not, they were all human. Humans with their faults and ugly desires and Gojo’s eyes saw all. He saw through every single lie and facade of kindness, saw the dark motivations behind respect and politeness along with the silent pain of suffering beneath the strictly enforced rules.

Trapped behind the high stone walls and the maze of wooden corridors, everything about the place was suffocating. Everything in the mansion felt old and dirty even if the structures were cared for by professionals and every single corner dusted clean by servants on a daily basis. People saw a majestic palace when they saw the Gojo clan’s main base but Gojo only saw a birdcage, a prison to hold its blood descendents in until they rot away into nothing. They might have countless barriers to keep the curses out but the real monsters were already inside, dressed in human skin.

It was the same everywhere.

They didn’t care about him or at least, that wasn’t the priority for most people. They cared that he had the Gojo line’s blood running through his veins and the rare jujutsu talents carved in every cell of his body.

He was Gojo Satoru. He was the Six Eyes of the Gojo clan.

People worshiped him but they also wanted him dead.

There were those in the same clan as him who wanted him to succumb to misfortune. They were envious of his talents and wanted him gone so the priority of succession and access to resources would fall into their hands instead. There were curse manipulators who were scared of his potential and needed him gone. Of course, other families also had concerns about whether he should live or die. Some wanted to marry their daughters to him, wishing the union would strengthen their family and produce an heir of high talents. However, there was only one Gojo Satoru and if he were to conceive a child with the daughter of a particular clan, the other families would begin to worry about the tilt of power imbalance.

The division of power was just like cutting cake, the cake wasn’t going to get any bigger but everybody wanted a bigger slice for themselves. Not that he blamed them. Gojo understood it but he was exhausted and annoyed. They were all plotting for their own gains and Gojo was sick of seeing the power struggles or the dirty politics behind it all.

So he decided to get away from it.

Being born as heir to one of the three elite clans meant he didn’t have to slug through the school system alongside jujutsu sorcerers from smaller clans or normal families. Yet, he chose to attend Jujutsu High anyways and moved into the dorms against the Gojo elders’ wishes. He was Gojo Satoru, not a single soul in this world could force him to do anything unless he allowed them to.

Gojo didn’t regret his choice. Although being away from home meant he didn’t have the convenience of people waiting on his every need, he found more freedom to do everything he pleased under fewer watchful eyes.

And he was feeling something.

He met people who didn’t care for the connotations and heavy history his surname carried. He learned for the first time what it was like to interact with people truthfully without a financial exchange or past the superficial pleasantries. He laughed and cried without having to hear the adults nagged about how that was improper. There were friends and acquaintances who wouldn’t just mindlessly agree to everything he said and a mentor who wasn’t afraid to treat Gojo equally as all the rest of his peers.

For the first time in his life, he felt vaguely…what would normal people call this? Right, ”Human”.

The Gojo elders wanted a god. Gojo wasn’t against it, he knew he was too different to fit into society and he didn’t want to fit in either. There were things, pain and sufferings or softer feelings poets loved to describe in flowery prose that he knew he would never be able to relate to and he had never given it too much thought. He was strong, strong enough that he fully believed he could take on the world even if he couldn’t understand what the core to being human was.

Those things didn’t really matter to him from the beginning anyways. Good or evil, what was right and what was wrong…those weren’t actually of any importance to him so long as he got to live freely and undisrupted.

But occasionally, being able to feel human wasn’t that bad.

“Are we getting any closer to our destination?” Gojo asked. Their first year class had a tiny population of three and the only girl, Shoko, was treated like some exotic animal because of how useful and rare her technique was. Usually that meant only Gojo and Getou were sent out on missions.

“Almost there,” Getou said. Gojo liked him. Even though Gojo’s first impression of the other jujutsu sorcerer was Weird Bangs, and they might have accidentally demolished a few corners of their school but they became friends over the past month. They had polar opposite personalities but Getou was fun to be around and took care of most of the nitty gritty stuff, which Gojo was more than happy to let him do so.

He came up with the ideas and Getou formulated the plans to get results. They were strong individually and invincible together. Sure, sometimes they still got caught or messed up, but Gojo had never been happier to spend time with someone else his age.

Shoko said they were two peas in a pod, the pot calling the kettle black. She wasn’t wrong. Gojo could tell Getou was the same type of person as he was. They both were used to having control and felt disconnected from the rest of their peers. Gojo because of his eyes and how he was raised to be a god and Getou for having talent the non-jujutsu sorcerers couldn’t understand. The dark haired teen could pretend to be the perfect goody-two shoes but Gojo saw right through him. They were the same type of callous at their cores.

A lot of jujutsu sorcerers weren’t right in the head according to normal standards. Maybe it was because both of them were rotten or broken beyond repair but they were the best of friends. They were sixteen. Shoko always said they were self-centered and hotheaded, fighting over the most trivial of stupid things but then making up just as quickly.

“Hopeless,” she commented over the steam coming from her coffee.

Gojo only stuck his tongue out at her childishly then.

“We should be going that way. According to the report it’s just around the corner.” Getou gestured along the narrow alley they were in but then he paused. “Oh, hey. We found it.”

There was half a body of what Gojo would describe as a cat poking its head out around the corner. Only, this cat was missing an eye and its flesh was melting, with rows of razor sharp teeth poking out around its neck.

“Great, let’s get it over with and we can go get food.” Gojo raised his hand, ready to attack but
Getou stopped him.

“Satoru, we’re not alone.”

There was a kid standing at where the alley opened up back the way they came from. He was wearing a black middle school’s uniform and he had spikey pale gold hair. His eyes were scarlet and there was a dull shine in them, a fleeting highlight that was close to gold when caught under the setting sun. Holding a can of soda, he was staring at Gojo and Getou.

It shouldn’t be a problem. Normal people couldn’t see curses so if anything, most would just think Gojo and Getou were some weirdo doing strange poses or rehearsing a skit. Gojo was going to ignore him but he heard the tin can dropped on the floor. Frizzly liquid spilled onto the pavement as the can rolled down the sloped land.

“Run!”

The kid was screaming at the top of his lungs. Rushing in, he grabbed both of the older teens and pulled them along. Stumbling slightly because they were caught off guard (and because they remembered how pissed Yaga would be if they knocked an innocent bystander out again), Gojo noticed that the blond boy had a strong grip. His eyes told him the blond was human through and through. Not one of them but he had no foul intention either.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t be trying to lead Gojo and Getou away from the curse. It was evident that this wasn’t his first encounter with the monster though, because the younger boy was moving away from crowded areas. Normal people would be running towards populated areas in the face of danger but that would only complicate things when fighting against curses.

Their footsteps seemed to be echoing within the construction site. Shadows moved across the grass growing between the cracks on the walls. Someone’s shoes kicked into a pebble by accident and it skipped across broken tiles.

The boy shoved them through a half opened door.

“Go, hurry down the stairs and it will take you to a main road,” the stranger barked. He might have nice features but his expression disrupted the pleasantness. “Don’t ask questions and just go.”

“We don’t have to run,” Gojo said while sharing a glance with Getou.

“We don’t fucking have time for this. ” The blond was irritated. The urgency was overpouring in his voice when all of them noticed the curse was coming their way. “You don’t understand–”

Gojo looped his hands under the younger boy’s armpits and despite seeing the distress on the blond’s face, he yelled, “Suguru, catch!”

“Wha–” Blood red eyes opened wide.

The white haired jujutsu sorcerer flung the kid up into the air as if he was weightless, tossing him out of the way of the curse that came crashing towards Gojo head on. Its face came in contact with Gojo’s fist that was covered in cursed energy and the monster exploded. Guck and goo from the curse’s remaining body was blown back by the force of the punch and splattered on the floor.

Getou whistled while looking down at his phone. “Cool, we’re done. Want to get ramen?”

“Sure, but what about that guy?” Gojo pointed to above, where the blond kid was dangling in midair. A curse that was shaped like a bird had claimed the back of his collar in its beak and was holding him up. The kid struggled, yelling a bunch of swear words and demanding to be put down.

Getou glanced up and hummed. “We should probably put him down and talk to him.”

The blond coughed a bit after his feet finally touched the ground. Even before he was fully steady on his feet, he backed away from Gojo and Getou.

Gojo flashed him a friendly smile, or rather, what Gojo considered to be a friendly smile. “What’s your name?”

“...Bakugou,” the younger teen muttered darkly, red eyes still focusing on them and his suspicion only thickened. He kind of reminded Gojo of a spooked stray cat, small and not at all threatening but trying its hardest to appear terrifying. “Bakugou Katsuki.”

Gojo and Geto shared a glance and they could see the same thoughts going on in each other’s heads. It wasn’t like they ran into a kid with the sight everyday. Taking off his sunglasses, Gojo kept his eyes on Bakugou just to make sure.

“Bakugou-kun, can you tell me what’s in my hand?” Getou asked while extending out his palm.

“There’s nothing there but there’s something on your shoulders.”

“Can you describe it?”

Bakugou shook his head slowly.

“No sight…just a strong sixth sense,” concluded Getou. “Here, take this card and an assistant director can–What are you doing, Satoru?”

Gojo had grabbed the piece of paper before Bakugou could decide it was safe to take it. Crumbling up the card, Gojo tossed it out the crack on the window.

“You have loads of questions, don’t you?” Gojo hooked his arm around the blond's shoulders. “Why don’t we find a place and you can fire away?”

Bakugou’s curiosity must have gotten the best of him because he agreed after a moment of silence. They ended up in the secluded corner of a coffee shop, where Getou explained the jujutsu world and curses to the kid since he was better at this stuff than Gojo was. They exchanged contact information at the end of the conversation and Bakugou went home.

Gojo and Getou had to return to school too.

“So what’s with him?” Getou asked while taking out his phone to start on their mission report. It was already late and he didn’t want to pull an all-nighter just for a report. “It’s not like you to take interest in a random kid. What’s so special about him?”

“Don’t know yet but keep him off the report. I got a feeling that this should be fun. See.” Gojo pulled out a small creature and held it up by the nape of its neck to his friend’s face. It was tiny, only about half the size of Gojo’s palm and roughly human shaped but instead of skin and facial features, it looked like it was made of light. Chubby little round paws were scratching at air as it struggled violently.

Getou stopped in his tracks and his eyes went wide. “Satoru, what is that?”

“It’s a collection of positive emotions.” Gojo squeezed its face with his other hand. There was a large grin on his lips as it attempted to bite him. Since it didn’t have a mouth, all it accomplished was bumped its head against Gojo’s fingers. “At least that’s what my eyes are telling me. It was attached to that Bakugou kid but I don’t think he knows.”

Getou leaned in closer. He supposed it did look kind of like Bakugou, like a silhouette of the blond had been shrunken down and filled with light. “...How is that possible?”

They knew of cursed energy, which was typically born from strong negative emotions and those if they weren’t in a live human would eventually accumulate into a curse. A creature made of positive energy? Now, that was unheard of.

“Don’t know.”

“What can it do?”

“No idea.” Gojo looked down at it. “It’s not powerful on the offense.”

It was hitting him and scratching him but Gojo barely felt an itch, let alone getting hurt. Getou hovered a hand over the creature.

“I can’t absorb it,” he said with an intrigued frown. “Oh, it disappeared…but it’s not with me.”

Gojo took off his sunglasses and turned around to stare back at the way they came from. Buildings or other obstructions weren’t really an issue for him since he had the Six Eyes. “It’s back with Bakugou. I guess it can’t get too far from him.”

They looked at each other and saw the same spark of interest.

There hadn’t been any reports in the school’s record about positive energy gaining a form of its own. Maybe they weren’t digging hard enough or that information wasn’t accessible to normal jujutsu sorcerers. Gojo thought about checking the Gojo clan’s records but him randomly popping by back home was going to gain attention and the elders were going to give him an earful.

Also, Gojo didn’t think they would like the higher ups to hear of it too soon. Those buzzkills would likely ruin the fun.

They started hanging out with Bakugou Katsuki soon after. That guy had a lot of spirit and he was quick on his feet even though he had a rather vulgar vocabulary. Smart but on alert all the time, like a stray that had been left wandering the streets for too long. It wasn’t an uncommon trait in wild jujutsu sorcerers who came from normal families. If they didn’t have at least half a brain or any bit of self-preservation instincts, they would have been long dead.

Bakugou Katsuki was definitely a kid who grew up in what the majority of society would consider a “normal” environment though. He was loud and full of life, aiming to be a hero under the spotlight just like most of his peers. Gojo found that entertaining. It wasn’t very often to encounter someone with a personality like Bakugou’s in the jujutsu world. The kids of the traditional jujutsu families were all like miniature versions of the wrinkly old oranges with their rules and ideals in Gojo’s eyes. No fun and too quiet. Others were…well, depressing might be a good description and he didn’t blame them, not when the job they do was as filled with the same kind of repetitive gore everyday.

Gojo and Getou started spending more time with Bakugou, taking a quick detour between missions or meeting him on their off days. It was relaxing actually, comfortable because they didn’t have to think too much when they were with Bakugou. The kid wasn’t part of the jujutsu world but he could understand their points of view, which made conversing with him easier. Tease him and he’d react with furious blushes. Most people might find the sparks of his explosion threatening but to the duo, it was all bark and no bite.

And as much as it didn’t match his demeanor, Bakugou was a good kid. He cared when they showed up hurt or hungry, yelled at them if they acted out of line, but also played video games and laughed with them.

The kisses started as a joke. Getou and Gojo were coming up with ways to test what could make the creature born from positive energy react. It fed off happiness and kindness, sapping on praises and grew larger when Bakugou felt loved. The thing seemed to be a reflection of Bakugou’s mood. It “attacked” Gojo or Getou when they played pranks on him but also nuzzled close for hugs like a puppy when they complimented Bakugou.

Fascinating.

Most curses were born with instincts and no intelligence. They craved blood and violence, trapped in their own heads and knew nothing but the desire to kill. The more evolved ones could fake emotions but at the end of the day, a curse was just a curse. It would never learn the value of life or understand peace.

Yet this creature derived from positive emotions seemed to only have a desire to protect its owner. Bakugou couldn’t see it and from what Gojo could tell, he had no knowledge of the thing born from his own emotions. It could be perched right on top of Bakugou’s head but he wouldn’t be able to sense it. Perhaps that was because it was part of him.

Gojo and Getou didn’t tell Bakugou about its existence because it didn’t want to be known. Like the little fairies or elves in storybooks, it watched over the blond teen even though it was weak itself and always tried to stop the duo from mentioning its existence. Since it was harmless, they played along.

Bakugou was a sensitive one. It wasn’t to say that he was the type to wail for dead flowers or write poetry under the moon but he had a keen sense. He spent nights with them but his parents never seemed to need to check up on him. Gojo didn’t notice that was odd for normal families until a year had lapsed and their juniors pointed it out. Getou’s parents didn’t pry into his life and Gojo made sure the elders stayed away. Shoko doesn’t really talk about her family but she was rather independent so it never occurred to them that this aspect was missing in their conversations.

But the first years were from relatively regular families. Haibara had video chats and phone calls with his family regularly and even Nanami would occasionally text his parents.

“So, his parents aren’t worried that he’s out of the house five nights in a row?”

Nanami’s question lingered in Gojo’s head. Maybe they were looking too much into things that weren’t there but he decided to check it out. Even without his family, it wasn’t hard for Gojo to buy information anonymously on the dark web. On paper, the Bakugous were just regular people. Busy but normal people who made a life for themselves. They had no criminal record and no connections to the jujutsu world.

Gojo tossed the files into the fire afterwards. He didn’t particularly care about the results since he was just curious. Whether there was something wrong with the Bakugous or not wasn’t his concern. If anything, he would admit that he was even hoping for there to be issues.

He was the one who found Bakugou. Taught him how to fight and watched him grow. Gojo supposed he could understand why people liked taking strays off the street now. It was heartwarming to see them let down their guard and warmed up to the hand that fed them. A sense of achievement came as time went by. Getou probably shared the same sickening pride when he saw how Bakugou flourished under their instructions.

Was what they were doing inappropriate? Perhaps. They laid their hands on Bakugou not out of love but for the thrills, trimmed and shaped the kid to their liking, painting over his visions with their realities of the world. There was no real reason for it either. It was simply because it was fun. They liked Bakugou’s cooking and liked sleeping with him, enjoyed his company and loved teasing him.

Besides, Bakugou had been rolling in between the two worlds all on his own so people couldn’t really blame Gojo and Getou for taking him in, right? He was their cute little puppy, loyal and naive but just right for playing with. If no one wanted to care for him, then Gojo thought they had a right to take him. He was the one who found the kid. While Gojo wouldn’t say that he loved Bakugou to death, he didn’t like being left behind or losing against his best friend.

They made a secret base for themselves with Bakugou. An apartment was nowhere near as lavish or spacious as the Gojo clan’s mansion but Gojo thought this place was better than any other real estate he owned.

A weight climbed onto his lap. Looking down, Gojo saw the creature made of light melting over his lap. It was like an animal in a sense, while it didn’t need to eat or drink, it liked to stay close to people who made Bakugou feel safe.

“Where did you come from?” Gojo picked it up and scratched its chin. It nuzzled closer and if it could make a sound, it would probably purr. It had grown since the first time Gojo saw it. The little thing that hadn’t been more than the size of a mug grew to match that of a small puppy.

Getou came in while carrying Bakugou. The blond was wrapped around Getou’s front like a koala, sleeping soundly after exhausting himself during training.

“It really likes you,” Getou laughed while making sure Bakugou wouldn’t slip off.

Raising the creature up, Gojo kissed it on the forehead. It didn’t struggle and Gojo was pretty sure it even grew a little bit in size. “That means Kacchan really likes me.”

Getou rolled his eyes and kicked Gojo lightly, mentioning for him to scoot over so he could put Bakugou down on the bed. They had to leave for a mission soon after so Gojo placed the creature back on Bakugou’s chest.

Summer came and it was one that was filled with blazing heat but also the gloom of death. Gojo emerged stronger and the high from the power made even him unable to control himself. He always knew he was strong but this new enlightenment made him feel like he was truly one of the gods, free from the boundaries of mortal law. He wanted to see what he could do, test how far his limits could stretch. It felt like he could have the whole galaxy in his hands if he wanted and the thrill made him feel like he was floating on top of the clouds.

He only broke out of his trance after the talk with Getou about the village. It wasn’t the act of Getou indirectly murdered a hundred or so villagers shook Gojo to his core, it was the fact that he had attempted to murder Bakugou.

Gojo sat down next to the counter in the kitchen. It was just Bakugou and him in the apartment since Gojo wanted this conversation to be private. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He was referring to Getou’s unstable state. Bakugou must have noticed something. At the very least, Gojo expected the kid to tell him about Getou almost killing him at the village but Bakugou never said a word. He was hiding the information to protect Getou.

Gojo didn’t know if that should count as loyalty or stupidity. All he knew was that he was irritated, felt like he was being excluded because he had been deemed not trustworthy.

“He didn’t kill them,” Bakugou gave an answer but it didn’t directly answer Gojo’s question. “Guy was about to lose his mind ever since you two failed that mission of yours. You haven’t been exactly down to earth either and you know how you two are. Ain’t no way either of you would have actually listened.”

“You still could have talked to me.”

“How many times have I yelled at your stupid ass to cool it in the past few months?” Bakugou barked in a gruff voice and handed him a cup of tea.

Taking a sip, Gojo noticed that there was absolutely no sugar added, which wasn’t the kind of mistake Bakugou would have made. It was bitter, so bitter that it nearly numbed Gojo’s tongue. Still, Gojo kept a straight face and drank it. This was a punishment because Bakugou was in a foul mood, just like how the wives would give their husbands a bento with only rice or soured pickles for lunch if they were pissed off.

“Suguru told you that he was thinking about killing the non-jujutsu sorcerers, right? He’s a fucking idiot planning on something stupid and useless. You were no help and Shoko always took the middle ground. She wouldn’t encourage him to do it but she wouldn’t go out of her way to stop him either. She’s a medic, not a crazy fucker like you two.” Bakugou went back to the sink to wash dishes. He had his back turned to Gojo but his voice was stuffier than normal, spoken in a slow fashion as if he was carefully probing for Gojo’s reaction. “Not like I got any routes to report him for thought crime so yeah, it seemed like I gotta pick up the slack and keep him in check…not that I actually achieved much.”

“So you knew about everything already,” Gojo sighed. He didn’t think Getou would spill the beans in front of Bakugou. Getou might look approachable but he was a closed book shut tight with chains and thrown in a safe that was sunk into the bottom of a lake. Standing up, Gojo approached him.

He felt like he could still see a ring of bruises around Bakugou’s neck but that was just him. Shoko had healed the boy already but the reminiscent of Getou’s cursed energy remained. The thought of that made Gojo frown. Lifting a hand, Gojo’s fingers barely touched Bakugou’s neck but the younger boy froze up instantly. A plate shattered in the sink and a small spark of explosion was sizzled out by the water. Bakugou spun around, eyes wide and his soap covered hands moved around his neck while he attempted to back away.

“Kacchan? Katsuki!” Gojo grabbed him to stop him from bumping into the edge of the sink or the knife stand. The boy’s shoulders were trembling but there was no rise or fall to his chest, like a deer caught in the headlight, every biological function in him seemed to have grinded to an abrupt halt as fear consumed him. “Breathe, just breathe. Look at me please.”

Bakugou pushed at him while screaming. It was the sound of a dying crow, raspy and scratchy as if it was forced out of a broken windpipe. Blasts of smoke and fire slapped across Gojo’s face and it would have been bad if it wasn’t for Gojo’s Limitless.

“Katsuki, stop.”

He used a bit more force behind his voice, turning the begging tone to a commanding one and that seemed to snap Bakugou out of it. He gasped for air as his red eyes focused on Gojo and then he reached for the older teen, grabbing onto Gojo tightly like he was holding onto his last lifeline.

Gojo could feel the heat from Bakugou’s hands through the back of his shirt. Bakugou buried his face in Gojo’s chest. Slowly, Gojo placed his hands on Bakugou’s back and he saw the top of messy blond hair. Casting his eyes to the side, the creature sitting on top of the microwave quietly. It didn’t do anything but the soft glow from its body was dim.

It looked rather small today.

“Are you crying?” Gojo asked after a long moment of silence. He could feel the dampness on his chest.

“...Shut up.”

Quiet sobs filled the kitchen. Gojo stroked Bakugou’s back, waiting for him to calm down.

“Thanks for keeping an eye on Suguru.” Gojo’s voice only sounded again when he felt the boy in his arms stopped quaking. He kept his voice light, cheerful and carefree like how he usually was. “You want me to hold him down for you to punch him in the face?”

“No.” Sniffling, Bakugou knocked on Gojo’s chest as a threat. The lingering grease and soap on his hand got wiped off the front of Gojo’s five digit shirt but neither of them cared. “I’m going to blow that jackass up myself when you two have things fully figured out. You’re the strongest right? So go handle it. He is your best friend and don’t you dare fuck up again.”

Gojo placed a hand on Bakugou’s head. Bakugou lifted his head and his eyes were watery. Little droplets of tears collected at the red rims of his eyes, threatening to fall. Normally, Gojo didn’t like tears. He wasn’t good at dealing with them and he thought crying was a useless act but he couldn’t just crack jokes or walk away from it this time, not when Bakugou’s reaction was because of Gojo and Getou.

Getou was the one who nearly killed Bakugo but Gojo felt like he was just as much to blame as his best friend. Bakugou shouldn’t have gone through that. He didn’t do anything to deserve being dragged into their twisted world.

But Gojo didn’t let go of him.

Leaning down, Gojo pressed his lips to Bakugou’s. The blond’s lips were pale and cold but still soft. It tasted salty, stained with half dried tears. Still, Gojo smiled when they parted.

“Leave it to me!”

He made a promise.

The first step to fulfilling that promise was to punch Getou in the face. No jujutsu, just the old fashion martial arts with no weapons. Gojo punched Getou for being a stubborn prick who almost went down the wrong way and nearly killed the kid they both liked. Getou returned the courtesy while yelling at Gojo about how he was fucked up in the head after his fight with Fushiguro Toji.

It wasn’t a very exciting fight and Gojo hated every second of it. It was as if his heart had been dug out for all to see and a sharp pain replaced where the beating organ should be. Sharp and throbbing, it seemed to be cursing his nerves and spreading the pain down to every cell in his body that Gojo felt like he was being cut open again.

Getou didn’t look any better. The threads holding his sanity together seemed to have snapped, unleashing the madness that was bottled up inside. It was an outpour of grief and anger coming undone.

Yet, that might be the first time they’ve talked so openly after failing the Star Plasma Vessel mission.

“Do I want to know what you two were fighting about?” Shoko asked them when they went to her for treatment.

Gojo wiped the blood off his upper lips. “Nothing.”

“We’re fine,” Getou coughed. There was a bruise on his left cheek.

Shoko healed them and chased them out with a warning, “I can cure broken bones and busted lips but not idiocy.”

The duo looked at each other outside of the infirmary before bursting out laughing together. The two of them went to have ramen together before going to find Bakugou. When they saw Bakugou, he was asleep on the living room’s tatami with Haibara and Nanami. Bakugou was on the right, one arm dropped over Nanami’s chest while the older blond slept in a properly straightened posture. Haibara was curled up, hugging onto a pillow and one of his legs was crossed over Nanami’s stomach.

The creature born from Bakugou’s positive emotion–Gojo and Getou had started thinking of it as a Blessing– because if negative emotions birthed curses, then of course positive emotions would create blessings, right? And Bakugou had been their blessing. He wasn’t an omniscient or powerful being but his existence bought them time, time to think and to sit down patiently out of the common desire to not scare Bakugou even further.

Pulling the blanket over the three sleeping teens, the Blessing climbed onto Nanami’s face. The blond teen’s eyebrows were knitted together, signaling that he wasn’t having a good dream. It stomped on Nanami’s face and the duo could see it shrinking a bit as golden dust shaved off it, melting into Nanami’s skin. His breathing evened and his facial features relaxed.

It hopped over on Haibara and did the same thing before disappearing back into Bakugou.

Getou clasped a hand over Gojo’s mouth and pulled him out into the yard outside the apartment before letting go. Gojo started laughing like a kid who just found a new toy.

“Satoru,” Getou warned but he sounded like he was having a hard time hiding his smile. “It’s not nice to laugh.”

“It tucked them into bed and gave them good dreams,” Gojo couldn’t stop laughing. “All this time we’ve been trying to figure out what it can do and this is it? What kind of fairy tale did that thing come from?”

It was so different from a curse. Instead of the horrible monster prying on people in the dark, it was like a plushie made of light that provided emotional support instead.

Cute and practically harmless.

It shouldn’t have been a problem.

At least, it wasn’t one until they saw the cursed spirit that caused Bakugou to jump off a roof. It wasn’t Getou or Gojo who exorcised the curse and saved their boyfriend.

It was the Blessing which killed the Curse.

When they got there, Bakugou was standing in the middle of a field with his back to them. There was half a body of a giant worm-like curse in front of him. Its head portion was gone, as if it was blown off by a cannon but there were no damages to the structure behind it.

“Katsuki?” Getou called out.

Against the backdrop of a setting sun, the blond teen turned around and smiled at them but neither Gojo or Getou returned the affection. That smile on his face wasn’t his usual grin. It started out as a twitch of the corner of his lips and his head was slightly tilted to the side. The split of Bakugou’s lips grew wider, turning into a more normal curve. Even covered in dust and ashes, it was still a dazzling smile but it felt as if they were watching something getting used to walking around in a layer of human skin.

His eyes were burning red, as if there were fire that could match the sun behind them .

“Suguru,” Gojo breathed evenly through his mouth. “Do you think it’s possible for a normal person to kill a second grade cursed spirit?”

“Not even with a special grade cursed weapon.” Because in order to use a weapon, they would have to be able to match the curse in speed and reaction first.

Were they too late? Gojo didn’t see any other curse around and there certainly wasn’t any cursed energy inside Bakugou’s body. He saw none of the dark mist with its cold aura, just light. Golden light like rays of the sun had been stuffed into the teen and it actually hurt for Gojo to stare at him for too long.

Getou didn’t seem to be able to see the light. Twisting his hand to face down, a small black hole opened up beside his feet and a centipede crawled out. It approached Bakugou, who stood still as a statue.

The centipede disappeared when it got about a step away from Bakugou.

Gone. Vanished. Not exorcised like normal but disintegrated as if it was broken down into particles by the golden light that leaked from Bakugou’s finger tips. Limitless was activated and Gojo raised his arms up. He felt the wind pressure rushing him before a concrete impact slammed into him, sending him flying. Gojo moved his head to the side as a fist grazed his ear and left a hole in the wall behind him.

Bakugou was smiling. It was a rosy smile and his cheeks were dusted with a light layer of pink. Gojo blocked another high kick aimed for his head and grabbed onto Bakugou’s ankle. He had to let go and doge because he didn’t want to hurt the blond teen but also because Bakugou curled up, nearly headbutting Gojo.

“Kacchan, what are you doing?”

No reaction to his voice.

Getou stepped in front of Bakugou and the blond stopped moving for a brief second, staring at Getou without blinking as if he was confirming something. They watched him walked closer and placed his hands on Getou’s face.

“Suguru,” Gojo warned. He could see threads of gold connecting to Getou’s body. Getou signaled behind his back, telling Gojo that it was alright. Raising his hand, Getou attempted to knock Bakugou out but the younger teen ducked and using his hands for support on the ground, roundhouse kicked Getou’s side.

The black haired jujutsu sorcerer coughed out blood.

Gojo engaged with Bakugou again right before the latter could find his balance. Nothing about this was making sense. Gojo had sparred with Bakugou more than enough times to know this speed and power wasn’t natural. Also, Gojo frowned as he spared an ounce of attention to his shaking hands after blocking another attack, he could feel a strange disruption to the flow of his cursed energy as the fight dragged on.

“Cursed energy!” Getou shouted from afar. “Satoru, deactivate limitless completely. He’s reacting to the presence of negativity!”

Gojo stopped his technique and Bakugou’s attacks stopped too. Looking around him, Bakugou extended his arms towards Gojo, looking like he was asking for a hug. Gojo didn’t move when the shorter boy hugged him but he did raise a hand to steady Bakugou against him when he felt his body go limp.

“He’s asleep,” noted Gojo as he hauled Bakugou up over his shoulders. Looking at Getou, Gojo’s expression was a dead serious blank. “He broke through my limitless.”

Bakugou’s attacks shouldn’t have been able to touch him but they did.

“I think that’s just the beginning of it,” Getou attempted to smile but it didn’t quite come out right. Raising his hand, the one he used to try to knock Bakugou out, the skin on his palm was gone and left a bloody red mess. Disintegrated.

They brought Bakugou back to Shoko. She treated Getou and Bakugou before taking out a smoke.

“He took care of a second grade curse by himself?” Shoko asked through the smoke of her cigarette.

“No, the thing in him did.” Gojo covered his eyes with a cool damp towel. It had been like staring at the sun for him. “It’s a collection of positive emotions so it canceled out normal attacks infused with cursed energy as well as any jujutsu techniques.”

It was the only explanation they could come up with for how he broke through Gojo’s strongest defense. On the other hand, curses were made of pure cursed energy, which made them even more vulnerable against pure positive energy.

“He doesn’t respond unless he feels threatened,” Getou added. “Can’t have any cursed energy or hostility around him or he attacks without regard for friend or foe.”

Shoko held the cigarette between two fingers. “That’s…going to be problematic isn’t it?”

They had never heard of such a power before. If Bakugou was mindless during that state, he was susceptible to danger or worse, become the danger himself. The higher ups would be interested in learning more, which would most definitely interfere with Bakugou’s plans on becoming a hero. Shoko could already imagine them wanting to take Bakugou in…because if his ability was used to its fullest, he would be the sharpest weapon in their hands.

A weapon against Gojo and Getou, along with any other jujutsu sorcerer who didn’t agree with the higher ups.

Or maybe they would just kill him. The ability to cancel a jujutsu technique wasn’t unheard of but one powerful enough to vanquish a second grade curse without any obvious drawbacks? Now that was a threat, especially for those who considered jujutsu their whole identities. It was the source of their status and wealth, which none of them would want to endanger for a kid from a regular family.

“No one else can know about this,” Gojo said while taking the towel off his eyes. “Not now at least. It’s too dangerous.”

Sighing, Shoko put out her smoke and sat down beside Bakugou’s bed. “I won’t say a thing. If people do ask, I’ll blame it on you two threatening me into cooperation though.” Looking down at Bakugou, she pulled the blanket higher over his chest. “It’d be a shame if a future hero died because of stupid possibilities.”

Gojo and Getou had other speculations but Yaga came in with Nanami and Haibara at the moment so they didn’t continue the conversation. When Bakugou woke up, he was normal, the same kind of spitfire attitude and everything.

With absolutely no recollection of what happened.

All of them pretended that everything was normal, partly because they didn’t know what would trigger Bakugou again and mostly because they needed time to investigate. They still went on missions, took Bakugou on dates, and occasionally visited the kids. Bakugou was starting to get used to his neck being touched again. They were gentle with him, giving him time to mentally prepare and letting him learn that it was alright to trust them with such an intimate act. They gifted him chokers and necklaces but it wasn’t for sex. Instead, they praised him and showered him with kisses whenever he decided to try one on. Gojo and Getou don’t want Bakugou to associate pain or suffocation with love. They wanted him to learn that he could trust them (and only them), understand that they would never hurt him or push him to do things he didn’t want to, and rewrite the debilitating fear into something he could at least tolerate.

There was a bit of a selfish reason to it, of course. Perhaps this was manipulative but Gojo tasted joy when he saw Bakugou lowering his guard and expressing his dependency on Getou and him. He wore their colors and allowed them, only them, to do things to him that no one else would get the privilege to. He indulged them in their fantasies and behaved so well for them. They could mark him the way they wanted and trimmed away at the edges of things that would hurt Bakugou.

They made him one of them. Theirs. Groomed and claimed as perfection.

Their little puppy was happy exactly where he belonged.

Occasionally, Bakugou still tensed up when they touched his neck but it wasn’t as drastic of a reaction, which was good because they wouldn’t want him to be freezing up during a battle.

Gojo truly did enjoy Bakugou’s company. He loved spending time with the blond and especially cherished all of their dates, the ones with just the two of them. Bakugou would dress up nicely and the two of them would go through the list of coupley things printed in those gossipy magazines. Some were fun and relaxing, like going to the museum or amusement park. Others were downright boring, like watching a scary movie, which they both ended up dozing off.

The Blessing never showed up again and Bakugou was normal.

It was one late evening when Gojo and Bakugou were on their way back from a restaurant when their path got blocked by a woman with a white mask. She cornered them in a secluded part of the park but before she was able to do anything, Gojo watched as she disintegrated into a storm of golden dust.

Bakugou’s grip around Gojo’s arm tightened and he was smiling when Gojo looked down, eyes bright and filled with eagerness. His smile was that of a child’s, filled with innocence and completely unaware of what justified right from wrong. The white haired teen’s shoulders tensed but he forced himself to keep his jujutsu technique deactivated. Pink lips pressed onto Gojo’s, leaving a glittery stain and Bakugou–or rather, the Blessing–leaned his head against Gojo’s shoulder.

Slowly, Gojo pulled his arm out from Bakugou’s hold. He placed his hands on his boyfriend’s shoulders and bent his knees slightly to bring both of them to eye level with each other.

“Kacchan, you just killed someone.” Gojo’s voice was steady and so were his hands. His eyes captured it all and understood what happened. There was no teleportation or illusions.

The woman was dead. Her existence was erased.

Bakugou tried to hug him but Gojo held him in place. Tracing a thumb over the corner of Bakugou’s eyes, Gojo could see the reflection of his own crystal blue eyes in the pond of crimson. He asked softly, “Are you still Bakugou Katsuki?”

The teen in front of him looked puzzled, lost even. Like he couldn’t understand his own mother tongue. The waterworks came unexpectedly, pouring out of those ruby eyes when the thing inside Bakugou realized that Gojo had no intention of hugging him.

“Kacchan, don’t cry.” Gojo held him closer and wiped the tears away with his sleeve. “Shhh, I’m sorry, okay? I’m really sorry. Please stop crying.”

Pressing Bakugou’s head towards his chest, Gojo ran his fingers through the blond hair. His tone was filled with worry but his heart felt nothing. It wasn’t his lover in his arms. Gojo could tell the one in control of this body right now wasn’t Bakugou Katsuki. The Blessing only knew how to act on instincts and just like a child who knew no better, it cruelly obtained what it wanted through whatever means necessary.

It wanted love.

The thing inside Bakugou fed off love and it wanted more. It loved Bakugou, only coming out to protect him from harm and it loved Gojo, getting rid of obstacles that were bothering their time together. Yet, love was a selfishly dangerous thing, greedy and delicate too.

It couldn’t stand the slightest of impurities.

Looking up at the sky, Gojo saw golden threads weaving like spiderwebs above their heads. It was a half formed domain and Gojo didn’t need the Blessing to explain what this domain’s specialty was. This domain was a reflection of Bakugou’s desires, rejecting anything and anyone who had the possibility of hurting him. Curses and cursed energy were bad, thus they would vanish. Villains and those who raised their weapons against Bakugou were subjected to the same rule. When rejected, the concept of these things would be written out of existence.

Permanently.

“Kacchan,” Gojo sighed as he picked the boy up. “Let’s go home and find Suguru.”

—---

“He can’t go on like this.”

That was the first thing Gojo told Getou when they got back to the apartment. Getou’s eyes narrowed at him then at Bakugou, who was in Gojo’s arms. Bakugou smiled at him and reached out. Taking the blond onto his lap, Getou’s eyes didn’t leave his best friend.

“It’s back?”

Gojo nodded while sitting down across from them. “It killed a curse manipulator today.”

He went on to tell Getou about everything his eyes found out.

When Gojo was done, Getou looked down at Bakugou and ran a hand down the blond’s back to soothe him. “Isn’t that a good thing? Then we wouldn’t need to worry about him getting hurt before we can get to him.”

“He’s not in control of it!” Gojo growled in a low and icy voice. “Whatever that is, it’s not Katsuki. At least, it’s not fully him. If he can’t make decisions for himself, this can’t go on.”

Getou hummed, seeming to be in agreement. Bakugou planted a kiss at the edge of Getou’s mouth and the dark haired teen had to place a finger to the blond’s lips, cooing at him to stop.

“What do you want to do?” While Getou didn’t care for the dead cursed manipulator, he could already foresee the trouble Bakugou’s abilities would bring.

What if next time the thing in him perceived anybody, maybe a drunk passerby, some hooligans, or even anybody standing too close to his boyfriends as a threat? They weren’t polite people but they didn’t deserve death. Or what if a jujutsu sorcerer attempted to use cursed energy near Bakugou? What would happen to that person then? What was worthy to be deemed as a threat to begin with anyways? Name calling? Throwing rocks at Bakugou? Or simply anything that would make him anxious?

Worst of all, Bakugou wasn’t the one making the rules. He had no recollection of what the Blessing used his body for yet he would have to be the one facing the consequences.

Getou could already see the plans the higher ups would have for such a power.

“We seal it.” Gojo pulled out a pocket knife. Its glistening sharp edge caught the light and gave off a tint of silver shine. “It’s made of positive energy so if we contain it in a lot of negative energy, it shouldn’t be able to come out. My blood and yours to draw the seal, two of the special grade jujutsu sorcerers should be more than enough. We’ll have to apply stronger seals as it grow but this should do for now”

“That doesn’t sound like a long term plan,” Getou pointed out. “Katsuki would have to know eventually. He would need it eventually if he keeps dating us.”

“We can make him stronger, strong enough that he could keep his consciousness when it comes out again. He needs power but that is worthless if he can’t control it.” Gojo cut himself, drawing blood from his right hand. “If he can’t control it, the old bats will have the perfect reason to execute him.”

Getou didn’t take the blade immediately. His lips were pursed into a tight line and veins popped along the back of his hand as they balled into fists.

“I think we were wrong,” whispered Getou as he picked up the pocket knife. “This is not a blessing.”

Blessings weren’t supposed to cause death. Blessings weren’t supposed to render the one he loved into a brainless animal that only knew instincts and demanded love with such docile smiles. He didn’t fall in love with Bakugou just for a pretty face and mindless sex, neither did Gojo.

Bakugou was smiling, with all the worries and burden gone but there was nothing behind his eyes except for endearing love either. No ambitions that made him fiery and no aspirations that filled him with life. This was a mere puppet in front of them, lifeless and stripped of the things that made him who he was.

There was no doubt Bakugou loved them and as did the thing in him…but everything about this was simply wrong. Love was supposed to be a good thing, wasn’t it? It was supposed to be the silver lining in this horrible world filled with curses. It was precious and delicate, needing attention and care in order to flourish.

Yet, too much of it seemed to only lead to insanity and bloodshed as well.

Cracking a sarcastic grin, Gojo’s blood was smeared across Bakugou’s pale neck. “I’m starting to think that love is the most twisted curse there is.”

It must be so.

But perhaps, this world was just a madhouse going to hell that all three of them couldn’t escape from.

—---

“Satoru. We’re almost at UA.”

Getou’s cold voice woke Gojo up. The white haired young man looked down and saw the hero school coming close. They would have teleported but in order for Gojo to do so, there can’t be any obstructions in the way since technically, it wasn’t teleportation that Gojo was manipulating. He could only control the atomic space level, compressing the distance between his travel so that it appeared as teleportation. Considering the speed he was going, it would be a disaster for everything in between if he were to travel in a straight line from Jujutsu High to UA.

Gojo took off his sunglasses. Crystal blue eyes that were brighter than the sky on a hot summer day glared intensely at the symbol for heroism with its giant metal gates and tall modern building.

His best friend had stopped trying to call Bakugou, hoping their lover was actually alright. The phone number called had gone straight to voicemail and then…there was nothing anymore. Getou’s curse flew them high above the clouds so no one would notice but it lowered them when they got close enough, allowing both to jump safely off onto the school’s roof.

The moment their feet touched the tiles, alarms started blaring throughout the whole school. Picking up a loose pebble from the ground, Gojo tossed it up and down a few times before it cracked into two pieces under the pressure of his cursed energy. They both shot out, jamming into the machine guns that rose from the floor before they could fire.

“I just have to keep the rat principal alive, right?”

“I’ll get Katsuki’s information out of him, otherwise, I don’t care what you do.”

And the door to the roof opened.