Chapter Text
Hope is such a fickle thing, it’s red then blue; sometimes it twists into yellow and bubbles into green. Hope is the hidden welcome of the basement, the taste of sweet and salty sweat, the sight of lotus flowers and blue eyes. Hope is so many things, so many devils to chase in the wind.
Yuuji dreams of choking on justice, exhaling a sense of peace into the world, but every rise of his chest blesses calamity. He doesn’t know how sorrow should look, but there’s no way it wouldn’t be red. Red is of pain and sorrow, it’s heart-wrenching and stifling - sorrow is red just as blue is happiness.
The first time it happens, Yuuji’s veins are still being pumped full of unbridled rage and sorrow. It’s almost a struggle to comprehend where he is, watching in muted horror as everyone sends Gojo off to die once again. For a moment, Yuuji can only think about how hard he must’ve been hit to be dreaming like this in the middle of battle. The floor’s a hazy mess of colors, shifting in and out of focus as Yuuji’s chest aches from the lack of oxygen. Anger tastes metallic in Yuuji’s mouth, as if he’d bitten into his lip, and silence stretches through the room - stale and hopeless. Almost like a phantom, he knows what he should be doing; to smile and reach out, wanting to touch just once more. Yuuji can’t even fathom how he’d urged himself to move then, acting solely on a prayer of strength, a begging to stay alive. He wanted to act as a facet, some kind of reason or goal, a light at the end of the tunnel. Yuuji only wanted to provide meaning when everyone else was seemingly too busy worrying over the fight to come.
He knows better now. Everyone’s faces are downturned, stricken with guilt for what will come. They don’t know it yet, but they’re already looking at Gojo as if he’s dead - as if they’re already preparing to wear his precious teacher’s skin like a suit. Yuuji gets it - he understands better than any of them how much is needed to defeat Sukuna. Yet, it doesn’t dissuade the aching sense of betrayal left in his heart, a mourning for his teacher who could never have peace as a person.
As Gojo steps forward, his footsteps seem to echo through the silent hall. Everyone flounders, unsure of what to say, especially with Gojo’s face so serious. It seems like just saying anything would be the wrong move to make, after all. Yuuji is frozen, his mind racing with images of past failures and the inevitable future they’ll face. He sees Gojo's confident stride, the unwavering resolve in his eyes, and it shatters Yuuji's heart once more.
Maybe it’s because Yuuji is merely dreaming that he allows himself to speak so truthfully, to voice the emotions he otherwise would never allow himself to say.
"Gojo-sensei," Yuuji calls out, his voice strained and desperate. "Please, don’t go."
No one says a thing, even Gojo can only manage to weakly smile as an obviously fake laugh rings out, “Ha ha, Yuuji, you don’t believe in your wonderful sensei to beat Sukuna?”
It’s clearly meant to be teasing, but it only comes across as disheartening as Yuuji stays devastatingly silent.
“Yuuji,” Yuuta steps forward, face hardened and jaw tight. Fingertips barely graze before Yuuji slaps them away, disgust pooling in his stomach. He knows he shouldn’t blame Yuuta; it’s not his fault for trying to survive, but Yuuji’s vision is red.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” he snarls, opening his mouth to continue when-
“Yuuji, I have to do this.”
Gojo’s eyes are serious, his tone devoid of the usual levity. It carries a weight that Yuuji has rarely heard before; something to try and steady his nerves. It’s different, almost swaying even now to see Gojo like this. Before, Yuuji couldn’t remember a time when Gojo looked as serious as he does now - no - did then.
He can’t stop himself from scoffing as he stalks over to Gojo, “You have to do what, huh? Die and abandon us? Leave us to face Sukuna by ourselves? You can’t be serious, Sensei.”
With each point, Yuuji jabs his finger against his teacher’s chest. Yuuji’s teeth are clamped together, shaking at the lack of infinity around his teacher.
“You can’t beat Sukuna, you’re not strong enough.” Gojo seemingly tries to school his expression, but Yuuji sees his face fall nonetheless. It’s mean and brutal, but Yuuji means every word. Gojo’s fists shake, eyes wavering just so, and his lips keep parting as if wanting to speak. Yuuta steps forward again, always trying to play the leader, and Yuuji can’t stop himself this time. In a flash, he has Yuuta by the collar, yanking him forward with a force that surprises even himself.
“You’re just as bad! You wanna take up the mantle of being a monster for Gojo-Sensei, but you can’t even do that without using him again! You’re just sending him off to die for us!”
Yuuta’s eyes widen, shock and confusion mixing with hurt. “Yuuji, that’s not true. We trust in -”
“Shut up! You don’t!” Yuuji’s grip tightens, his knuckles white. He shakes Yuuta, the motion rough and desperate. “If you really cared, you wouldn’t let this happen. You’d find another way. But no, you’re all so eager to let him sacrifice himself, pretending it’s for the greater good when it’s just because you’re too much of a coward!”
Yuuta tries to maintain his composure, but the accusation cuts deep. His eyes dart around, seeking support from their friends, but they all seem equally shaken by Yuuji’s outburst.
“Yuuji,” Maki starts to interject, stepping forward and gripping him by the shoulder.
Yuuji jerks away, voice breaking, “You’ve all let go of your humanity! If this is what the jujutsu world demands, then Sukuna has already won."
The students and faculty exchange uncomfortable glances, some looking away in shame. Yuuji's words cut deep, exposing the unspoken fears and doubts that lingered in their hearts. Yuuji's anger flares, his vision blurring with unshed tears. He looks at the faces of those around him, seeing only betrayal and cowardice. They were supposed to be his friends, his allies.
Why don’t they care?
A heavy hand lands on his shoulder, solid and unwavering. Yuuji knows who it is without having to see, how could he not? Infinity wraps itself around Yuuji, as if a weighted blanket protecting him from the world. Yuuji’s eyes flutter, blinking away tears. Gojo's expression hardens when he turns around, a shadow passing over his eyes. Gojo’s hand trails down, gripping his bicep so desperately that Yuuji feels breathless. It’s as if Gojo is urging Yuuji to understand, praying that he just drops this and lets things unravel as foretold. Scrunching his face, Yuuji tries to turn away, but Gojo steps forward. Their foreheads press together, forcing Yuuji to look into his eyes.
"It’s not about me, Yuuji. It’s about stopping Sukuna. It’s about protecting everyone."
"And who protects you?" Yuuji’s voice is a broken whisper. "Who protects you, Sensei? You’re always the one protecting us, but who’s there to protect you?"
Gojo’s silence is answer enough. The weight of his responsibility is evident in his eyes, the burden of being the strongest.
"Yuuji, I..." Gojo begins, but the words catch in his throat. He pulls away, unable to meet Yuuji’s gaze. "I have to do this. I will win.”
The finality in his tone is like a dagger to Yuuji’s heart. He knows there’s no changing Gojo’s mind, no stopping him from walking to his death. Yet, he can’t stop himself from desperately trying.
"Sensei, please," Yuuji begs, his voice breaking, “Don’t go.”
Yuuji’s legs give out, and he crumples to the floor, burying his face into his hands. “I can’t,” he whispers, his voice muffled by his hands. “I can’t lose you again. Please. Please don’t go.”
Gojo crouches down beside him, cradling Yuuji’s jaw and gently directing him to look up. Gojo’s smile is strained, something bittersweet while trying to be reassuring. “I know, Yuuji. And I don’t want to lose you either. That’s why I have to do this. To protect you; to give you all a chance at a future.”
Yuuji’s anger starts to wane, replaced by a crushing sense of guilt. He looks around the room, seeing the faces of his friends and fellow students. They’re scared too, their expressions mirroring his own fear and uncertainty.
“How can you say that?” Yuuji asks, looking at him with red-rimmed eyes.
“Because I have to believe in something,” Gojo replies, his voice steady. “I have to believe that we can win. That we can make it through this. And I need you to believe it too.”
Yuuji’s throat tightens, and he struggles to swallow past the lump that’s formed there. “I want to believe,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s so hard.”
“I know,” Gojo says, his eyes filled with understanding, “but I want you to try, at least for me?”
Yuuji curls his fingers into those damned robes and pushes his face into Gojo’s neck, rubbing his tears into the unforgiving fabric.
“Sensei,” Yuuji whispers, trying to press every inch of his feelings into words, “I’ll try, but you have to promise me that you’ll come back. Promise me, please, that you’ll win.”
Gojo's voice is a whisper in the darkness. "I promise, Yuuji."
Yuuji knows that promises can be broken, that even the strongest can fall. But he also knows that Gojo believes in what he’s doing, and that he’s willing to risk everything for their sake. With a heavy heart, Yuuji nods and lets go of Gojo’s robes, unable to find his voice.
Gojo guides them up, and pulls Yuuji into his arms once more. Yuuji’s tears soak into Gojo’s robes, his breath coming in shaky gasps. Gojo’s hand rubs gentle circles on Yuuji’s back, a comforting gesture that does little to soothe the storm inside him.
As Gojo steps back, Yuuji feels a cold emptiness settle in his chest. He watches as Gojo turns and walks toward the door, his heart aching with every step.
“Sensei...” Yuuji calls out one last time, his voice trembling.
Gojo pauses, glancing back over his shoulder. “Yes, Yuuji?”
“Be careful,” Yuuji whispers, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and determination.
Gojo’s smile is faint, but there’s a warmth in his eyes. “I will.”
He watches as Gojo walks away, each step echoing like a countdown to the inevitable. As the door closes behind Gojo, something in Yuuji snaps. His shaky knees give out again, the weight of his fears and helplessness crashing down on him. The tears won’t stop falling, and Yuuji chokes back a sob.
“No... Sensei, please, don’t go,” Yuuji chokes out between muted wails, his voice barely audible. He presses his forehead to the floor, his body shaking with the force of his grief. “Don’t leave us, Sensei. Don’t leave me.”
The room around him feels like it’s closing in, the walls pressing down on him as his cries echo through the empty space. He feels utterly alone, drowning in a sea of despair with no way out. His fists pound the floor in a futile attempt to release the overwhelming emotions inside him. Each impact sends a jolt of pain through his hands, but he barely notices. The physical pain is nothing compared to the agony tearing at his heart.
“Please,” he begs again, his voice breaking. “Please come back to me.” But there’s no response, only the hollow silence of the room. Yuuji’s sobs grow quieter, his strength slipping away as the reality of the situation sinks in. He’s powerless to stop Gojo, powerless to change what’s about to happen.
All he can do is hope and pray that somehow, against all odds, his teacher will return. But deep down, Yuuji knows that hope is a fragile thing, easily shattered by the harshness of reality.
And so, he remains on the floor, broken and defeated, his tears soaking into the cold, unforgiving ground.
He knows what’s coming, and the knowledge is a heavy, suffocating weight. He thinks the others try to comfort him at some point, but their voices are merely a distant murmur in his ears. Only background garbles of trust and pleads.
Eventually, Yuuji's body ceases its tremors, his sobs reducing to quiet whimpers. The emptiness in the room grows, and the silence becomes unbearable. He forces himself to stand, his legs shaking and his hands still trembling. He wipes his tear-streaked face with the back of his sleeve, determination slowly hardening in his chest.
Yuuji stumbles to the door, his mind a whirlwind of despair and desperation. He has to see for himself.
Everyone surrounds the stream, and Yuuji can nearly taste the desperation in the air. Gojo is brilliant and beautiful, endlessly strong as Yuuji watches him fight. The explosions of Red and Blue across the scene paint him in sharp angles, Gojo once again using Red to slam into Sukuna’s back. Yuuji is once more stunned by the raw strength of his teacher, but a lump grows in his throat the more he watches. Every strike feels like the ticking of a countdown, each second bringing them closer to an inevitable, horrific end. Yuuji’s heart races, a frantic drumbeat in his chest, as he watches the spectacle unfold. Fear twists in his stomach, an icy dread that makes it hard to breathe.
“No,” Yuuji whispers, voice trembling. He wants to scream, to run out there and stop this madness, but his feet feel like they’re made of lead. The faces around him blur, their voices a distant murmur. He can only see Gojo and Sukuna, enjoying this far too much.
Gojo’s determination is palpable even through the screens, a fierce resolve to protect his students and the world; to shield them from the bad of the world. But Yuuji sees the flicker of doubt in his eyes, the momentary hesitation that betrays his own fear. Gojo knows the odds are against him, but he fights on, driven by a sense of duty and an unyielding will.
Yuuji’s fear turns to desperation and his blood runs cold. He can’t let this happen. He won’t let Gojo die. With a surge of adrenaline, he breaks free from his paralysis and starts running towards the battlefield. The others try to stop him, their hands grasping at his arms, their voices pleading with him to stay back.
“Yuuji, don’t!” Choso shouts, his grip tight on Yuuji’s shoulder.
“Let me go!” Yuuji screams, his voice raw with emotion. He wrenches free, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “I won’t let him die alone!”
Yuuji’s legs burn with the effort, his lungs aching for air as he sprints to the battlefield. The closer he gets, the more vivid the scene becomes; the clash of cursed energy and the earth-shaking impacts of their blows. It’s all the same.
Gojo’s arm comes back, an amused smile lighting up his face. He’s just out of range when Hollow Purple decimates Shinjuku, blasting rubble across the city, and Yuuji knows what’s next.
“Gojo-sensei!” Yuuji cries out, his voice breaking.
Gojo turns at the sound, his eyes widening in shock. “Yuuji, no! Stay back!”
Yuuji’s arrival is a shift on the battlefield, a blaze of power and determination. He knows he’ll be a burden on Gojo the moment the man sees him, but something has to change; even if Yuuji is only delaying the inevitable.
In the ruins of Shinjuku, Yuuji puts everything into a singularity and his soul sings. It’s the pieces clicking into place once more, an itch under his skin, and the desire to be more selfish.
Sukuna surges forward, a twisted smirk stretched upon his face, once again underestimating Yuuji. When he’s close enough, it feels as if time slows as Yuuji exhales. He remembers how to use it as if it was something he’s known since birth, power dripping like water from his fingertips. Sukuna sends a firm blow, sending Yuuji flying. His fingers drag and Shrine activates. Part of the building slices off and Yuuji launches it back.
His blood vibrates as Sukuna wreaks destruction, still focused more on Gojo as the man tries to avoid hitting Yuuji. But, as that song grows through his veins, Yuuji feels it.
It’s addicting. The thrill, the rush, the taste of red, and the dance of victory.
Feeling like this is risky, it could bring despair if Yuuji allows it to take him too far into illusion. Hope is dangerous. Hope can lead to losing everything he’s worked towards, it could lead to death, and the loss of that blue. Hope can be a weakness. Yuuji’s determined to not let it show, he’ll hide the glimmer so deep that not even he will be able to recognize it sometimes. But, he’ll know it’s there. There’s strength in feeling this way, and Yuuji will relish in it while he can. Sweat drips down his face, leaving it slick, and Yuuji runs his finger across his cheek; picking up a droplet. Smearing it into his skin, watching it slowly turn red.
Yuuji thinks that maybe there’s power in red too.
The world around him quivers at how effortlessly it happens, but enveloping his fist is a black light. He’s behind Sukuna before that demon even sees it coming, and he sends it forward, hoping to still rattle Sukuna’s soul enough to reach Megumi earlier this time.
The impact sends shockwaves rippling through the battlefield, the force of Yuuji's blow rattling Sukuna to his core. But Yuuji doesn't stop there. With every ounce of strength he possesses, he pushes forward, the faint black aura glowing again.
But it’s too late.
Yuuji feels it before it happens, and he can’t get himself to focus as agony explodes through him, a blinding, searing pain that robs him of breath. He can feel his bones shatter and his flesh tear, but he forces himself to stay upright, continuously trying to activate RCT.
World Severing Slash
Yuuji’s blood drips past his hands, pooling onto the ground. It’s a different result than last time, he realizes, Sukuna is much stronger still. The resistance he developed could only go so far, it seemed. If Yuuji is like this… His eyes search desperately, trying to find Gojo.
His vision blurs, the world fading in and out of focus as he stumbles, desperately searching. The pain is a cacophony of sensations that threaten to overwhelm him, but he pushes through, driven by some force that Yuuji would never be able to name. The scene from his nightmares seemingly materializes before him - Gojo’s bisected body. The sight tears at his sanity, the world around him begins to feel surreal and detached.
Stumbling forward, blood drips past his lips. Yuuji’s voice breaks, a raw, anguished cry, “No, please…” He spits, falling next to Gojo. He manages to whisper, each word a struggle, “Sensei, please. You promised me, you told me you’d win.”
Everything feels distant as if he's watching through a fogged glass. There’s no sound of battle, only the silence of drifting winds as snow begins to gently fall. It catches on Yuuji’s eyelashes, flurries that melt and leave trails down Yuuji’s cheeks. The world narrows to just this moment, just this space where he and Gojo exist. He reaches out with trembling fingers, trying to touch Gojo, trying to ground himself in reality.
Yuuji’s strength wanes, his vision growing darker. He stumbles, falling to the ground with a heavy thud. He can feel himself slipping away, each breath more labored than the last. But he clings to consciousness, driven by the need to see this through, to witness Gojo’s final moments. Fingernails filling with dirt, he crawls; blood dragging and staining.
“Yuuji…” Gojo whispers, barely audible as blood begins to pool in the crevices of his neck, “I’m sorry”
Yuuji’s heart shatters at the sight of Gojo’s tear-streaked face. He wants to scream, to rage against the world, but all he can do is crawl forward, helpless. The ground beneath him sways, it’s nearly unreal like he’s floating in a void.
“Sensei,” Yuuji whispers, his hand finding Gojo’s, but he doesn’t even move. Yuuji’s cheek presses into his chest, head suddenly so much heavier. He pulls himself closer to reach Gojo’s face. Lips push into nothingness, Gojo doesn’t breathe and Yuuji only drinks in blood. There’s no warm breath against his. Dripping lips trail against Gojo’s cheek as he can no longer find the strength to move.
The world is a blur of colors and sounds, everything blending together in a haze of pain and despair. He feels the weight of the world pressing down on him, suffocating, crushing. His vision swims, dark spots encroaching on the edges. He feels disconnected, like he's slipping away from his own body, his own mind.
“I’ll save you, even if it takes everything,” but even as he speaks the words, he knows how empty they are. His strength is fading, his body betraying him. The world around him darkens, and the last thing he sees is Gojo’s still face.
A final, desperate thought crosses his mind as his eyes flutter shut: he won’t let Gojo die. Not again. Not ever. So, he mutters, meaning every word as he whispers it - demanding it into existence.
“I promise.”