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❝ die with a smile ❞. . . ⇢ satoru gojo

˗ˏˋ summary: satoru thinks back to the moment you asked him the hardest question ever

˗ˏˋ wc: 4.1k

˗ˏˋ contains: gn!reader x gojo, zombie apocalypse au, heavy angst w very little comfort, major character death, established relationship, descriptive violence/injuries, mentions of blood and amputation, satoru has a panic attack, suguru & shoko cameo

˗ˏˋ a/n: this one's a wild ride yall, pls refer to the main fic + the au masterlist for this one !! otherwise.... pls do enjoy and dont cry too much while reading it :'3

“satoru… i have a question for you.”

up until this point the room had been so silent, you weren’t even sure if satoru was still awake. you could feel him, though— with your head laying above his heart, his arms caging you in, you could feel how he breathes. the rise and fall of his chest is prominent enough to indicate to you that he’s still awake, albeit a little sleepy. you noted that every once in a while it slows, until he feels you stir— shifting an arm, or a leg, to get more comfortable. that usually wakes him up a little more, picks up the rate of his breathing a tad, just as your statement now did.

he doesn’t respond for a moment, but he hums softly, tilting his head down to look at your shoulder. his index finger traces shapes on it; he’s currently tracing a heart, though you can’t tell because he’s been at it for some time now. it feels more like a bunch of squiggles.

“what’s on your mind?” he murmurs eventually. the words trickle into your ears like honey drizzling; it’s so soothing, so relaxed. he’s so physically and mentally content in this moment, with you— it makes you nervously chew on your lower lip, knowing you’re possibly about to ruin it.

“would you, um…” you pause to swallow thickly, gathering your bearings before you continued. “if the situation ever arose, would you ever— like, if someone asked you…”

he can hear the reluctance in your voice, and the tracing of his finger over your shoulder slows to a stop. he lifts his head a little bit, searching for your eyes before finally meeting your worrisome gaze. he doesn’t say anything, but you don’t think he needs to; the gentle, grounding squeeze on your shoulder says enough.

“if— if you—… if someone ever asked you to kill them before they turned… would you do it?”

satoru inhales slowly, chewing the inside of his cheek for a moment as he thinks of what to say. a part of him — a sick, intrusive part of his brain — immediately starts to ring alarm bells in his head. he pushes it all the way to the back of his mind, because— surely, you aren’t about to ask him if he would ever do such a thing to you, right? it’s preposterous that you’d even go so far to assume that this life you both live right now isn’t secure enough to guarantee your own safety until you both grow old. it’s absurd, even.

yet, he still finds himself avoiding the question; simply answering it with a question of his own. “would you?”

you can read satoru like a book. even with your head lifted off his chest, the palm you were laying over his heart can feel the way his heartbeat picked up. he knew what you were trying to ask and, for a reason you couldn’t quite place, he wasn’t willing to even entertain the thought of that ever being a possibility.

it’s not like you were particularly fond of the idea, either. it entails a heartbreaking scenario where either of you would have to make the toughest decision of your lives. to kill the person you love before they turn into something so deplorable, so lifeless— to be claimed by the one you live for, or be claimed by the undead. the answer had never been clearer, yet the choice was impossible to make. the unfortunate meeting between an unstoppable force and an immovable object.

the silence lingers between you two for a while longer before you finally break it once more, tearing your gaze away to glance across the room. in the corner, lay the dog you both rescued a long time ago— it’s been months, maybe a year by now. things have been good, they are good… they’re going to stay good.

but the fear of an uncertain future gnaws at your resolve day and night; so much so that you think, if not for the way satoru holds you so securely against his chest while he sleeps, you’d have a hard time getting any rest at all.

it’s due to this that you don’t just want an answer from him, you need it. you think of it like a safeguard; insurance against a future that, despite how much you try to delay it, may ultimately be completely inevitable.

“i would,” you mumbled, your voice as unsteady as your emotions feel. “if… if you asked me. i would do it, for you.”

satoru doesn’t need to ask why. he thinks the same of you; the thought of you ever becoming a zombie, a true monster in it’s own right— he can’t find the right words to truly encapsulate how terrible it makes him feel.

so if you were to ever die, god forbid— he doesn’t want you to go like that.

a warm hand cups your cheek, and satoru turns your head so that you’re facing him again. the cerulean of his eyes are glassy, and the way his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows tells you enough about the size of the lump he feels in his throat. his fingers press into your skin a little bit, making small indents in the plumpness of your cheek before he finally gives you his word.

“i told you this before, but i’ll say it again… there’s nothing, absolutely nothing i wouldn’t do for you.” his tone is firm, resolute. “everything i do, everything i will ever do… i will always put you and your needs first.”

you fidget a little bit as he finishes speaking, but then he’s sliding his hand to the back of your neck and gently tugging, urging you forward. he guides you to lay back down on his chest, and as he does so he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, letting it linger for a long moment before he pulls away.

his affirmation satiates your worries, for the time being. there’s no need to continue the conversation, because— what more can you say? you gave your answer, and he gave his. there’s no other reason to keep thinking about such a dark scenario.

and while satoru often tried to dismiss the intrusive thoughts he always had, he found himself thinking back to that very conversation when the potential scenario you had presented… ultimately became a reality for him.

he can’t think of a time in his life where he’d ever been crying harder than he is now; his brain felt like it was slamming into his cranium with every shake of his head. every time he tried to deny the situation at hand, to refuse to process the words leaving your lips, his head throbbed with a dull ache he may never be rid of.

“i— i can’t—” he hiccups, lifting his arm to furiously wipe at the tears spilling over his lash lines with the sleeve of his shirt. he’s on his knees, his trembling hands covered in blood— in your blood. he’s staring at the gaping wound in your side, the result of an unexpected altercation with a horde of zombies that went awry. he’s certain that suguru and shoko are somewhere behind him, but his sense of direction gets skewed when it feels like the world is spinning too fast for him to catch up.

“sator—” you croaked, trying to speak, but every word that left your lips was joined by a violent coughing fit. satoru let out another broken wail at the wet sound of your cough; he feels like he’s going to throw up.

“please…” he choked out, his voice cracking at the end of the word. “please— please don’t make me do this, i— i can’t do this to you, please. i need you.”

his begging was futile. he knew it was only a matter of time before you succumbed to your wounds, the infection spreading through your system until it reached your brain. by then you’d already be dead, and you’d become something so sinister satoru thinks he might actually pass out at just the mere thought.

“‘toru…” you heaved, blinking up at him through your own tears. your entire body was in pain, every nerve in your system lit up with the infection making its way through you. satoru was squeezing your hand so tightly it was the only part of your body that felt numb to everything, almost painless. “you have to… you— you promised.”

“i— i know, i— fuck, i didn’t think— fuckfuckfuck!” he curses as the gravity of the situation dawns on him all over again. his free hand tugs at his hair, staining the snowy white a crimson red color.

it all happened too fast— way too fast for any of them to truly process. upon getting attacked by a horde, satoru feels your little group of 4 start to split up within the night to tackle them. he felt your hand slip out of his grasp and that’s really when the panic started to settle in; it was all too familiar. the fear and the dejavú crawled up his throat, he found it so hard to just breathe.

suguru was the first one he heard screaming for help. on pure instinct satoru stopped his search for you through the bush of the trees and whipped his head around, running towards the source of the noise as fast as his feet could carry him. he found suguru surrounded by 4 zombies, maybe 5– it was too dark in the forest to tell. suguru’s gun was fresh out of ammo and he’d tripped on his feet, he was cornered.

satoru knew he had to act fast. if he heard suguru’s yells, that means the rest of the horde may very well have heard him too.

as he’s crossing the distance between him and the other man, that’s when he hears your voice. satoru’s heart jumps out of his throat then, seeing you reach suguru faster than he could. you helped suguru up off the ground and fended off the zombies nearest you, but the anxiety was still bubbling in satoru’s stomach, threatening to boil over.

for one, something was wrong with suguru… his gun had fallen to the ground and he was clutching his arm, a pained expression adorning his features as he stood behind you. you were defending yourself decently enough, but the zombies were moving too fast to fight them off all on your own.

satoru fumbles for the gun in his holster and he pulls it out, right as his view of you gets blocked by another incoming zombie. he’s still making his way over, all of this is only happening within a matter of a few seconds—

two shots ring out, and the undead bodies fall to the ground. satoru can see you now, still standing by suguru, still fighting with all your might. his vision is so zeroed in on you he doesn’t even register shoko appearing beside him, readying her own weapons to help satoru rescue the two of you.

by the time they reach you two, satoru feels it in his gut before you’ve even said anything. the look on your face, on suguru’s face— it’s not right. something is wrong.

and before satoru could even ask, suguru was falling to his knees.

“m— my arm, shit,” suguru cursed, and satoru physically felt the blood draining from his face. suguru had been scratched pretty badly, just above his elbow, and the infection was spreading through his arm quickly. satoru hears shoko splutter; she mutters something unintelligible, and then immediately moves to suguru’s side.

satoru spares a nervous glance at you, and the look on your own face does nothing to ease his nerves.

“it’s not too late.”

shoko’s voice comes in almost instantly. “we— we have to amputate,” and before anyone could protest it she’s already aligning her machete right above his shoulder bone, gripping the handle tight enough for her knuckles to turn white. “fuck, suguru— just, hold on… we can still save you…”

shoko’s moving fast. satoru’s response is a little delayed but he eventually threw himself down to press his entire body weight on suguru’s chest, holding his head to the side and rolling up suguru’s shirt. “here, bite down on this,” his voice is unsteady, but he places the cloth between suguru’s teeth and soothes the panic suguru is already feeling.

it all happened so fast. within a matter of minutes, satoru was split up from the rest of the group, running towards the sound of suguru’s cries, finding you with suguru— and now shoko was driving her machete through the bone of his shoulder with all the force she could muster.

the cry that left suguru’s lips was like nothing he’d ever heard before. if not for the way satoru had been holding him down, suguru’s violent thrashing would have made the cut a lot less cleaner than it actually was. shoko’s precise hit made it easy to tear the infected limb, all flesh and bone, clean off his body.

and as she’s removing her jacket to wrap around the gaping hole in suguru’s shoulder, applying as much pressure as she can to control the bleeding, satoru hears you behind him.

“s’toru…” your voice comes out shaky— and in an instant satoru is on his feet, turning around and running towards you just as you, too, fell to your knees.

“no…” he shakes his head, cradling you in his arms as he sets you down gently on the ground. “noooo, no, no, no, no, no…”

satoru’s hands go to your sides, holding you close to him, searching your face for answers, and that’s when he feels it— the wetness, oozing from your waist, all thick and warm. it’s your own blood.

somehow, while trying to save suguru, a zombie had gotten to you before satoru could. the deep, lengthy scratch marks on your abdomen were an indication of how late satoru was.

and now here he was, crying his heart out, kneeling at your side, replaying that damned conversation a million times in his head. he told you that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you, but this? killing you with his own gun so that your body is not claimed by the infection currently taking over your system?

…how can anyone expect him to go through with this?

his sobs were ugly and they were so loud, shoko kept frantically looking around to see if there were anymore zombies in the area— all while she’s cradling a weak and barely conscious suguru to her own chest.

satoru thinks shoko calls his name then, but he can’t hear it past the throbbing in his head. this can’t be happening.

satoru sees your hand moving towards him, and his sobs die down for a moment. he blinks past the tears and he sees you reach towards his abdomen, trying to grab the gun in it’s holster—

“wait, wait…” he croaks, his voice wavering under the weight of his own emotions. by pure instinct, he wants to stop you; wants to angle his hips away from your grasp— but he feels completely frozen on the spot. he sees you pull out the gun and shakily place it in his free hand, and another wave of hot tears spill out of his eyes.

he shakes his head again. it starts off slow, and then he’s entirely frantic with the way he bends over your body, sobs wracking through him so harshly that it shakes him to his very core.

and then he feels your hand, it’s wet from your blood sweat and tears— but it’s so warm. you feel so warm, you always did. you cup his cheek, lifting his head enough to meet his tear-stained eyes.

another whimper breaks past his lips when you swipe your thumb over his cheekbone, probably smearing some of your blood on his face, but you’re honestly only trying to wipe away some of his tears. this thought crosses his mind very briefly, and he can’t help it then— a small, choked laugh bubbles out of his mouth.

“i know, i know,” you can’t help laughing with him, even through your own tears. “i’m getting my blood all over you, you look like such a mess.”

he laughs wetly again, his shaky smile only growing with yours. the hand still squeezing yours is lifted up to his face, and he presses his lips on the back of your hand for a long moment. he holds it there, closing his eyes when he feels that lump coming up his throat again, threatening to break the smile you alone brought to his face.

and after that, he kisses you. he grabs your face with both of his hands and kisses you with all his might, trying not to let another sob slip past his lips as he does so. he commits it to memory— the soft feeling of your trembling lips, the way you kiss him back. how you place your nimble hands over his, slotting your fingers in the spaces between his own.

he tries to remember this; to remember you. for everything you’ve ever done for him, every emotion you’ve ever made him feel and every smile you’ve shown him. he wants to remember you for the way you lived, not the way you died.

and though he can barely see through his own tears, he has to be the one to do it. with one final look, one final kiss, one final i love you—

he slowly stands, and aims. he uses both hands to steady the weapon; he can’t afford to miss. he inhales deeply, closes his eyes— and he pulls the trigger.

a loud shot rings out in his ears.

satoru can hear his heartbeat, beating stronger and faster than ever. it’s like the beat of a drum playing in his ears, over and over again, making him lose his sense of direction. it’s dizzying. he drops the gun in his hands when it starts to overwhelm him, frantic eyes blinking rapidly, completely avoiding you. he hears his heartbeat get louder as everything seems to fade to white around him, and then it’s all dark again…

there’s a voice, somewhere. echoing in the back of his head. it starts out small, far away. he’d assumed it to be shoko’s, somewhere behind him; but as it steadily grows, he thinks— it almost sounds like…

…

…

“…satoru!”

satoru jolts up in his bed with a gasp so loud it makes the dog across the room bark. he already feels the sweat breaking out through his shirt, his entire body shaking with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. he can’t see, why can’t he see anything?

“sa…., c…. ..down, …here. br..., …oru, breathe.”

the words spoken were fading in and out of his ears, and he has to blink several times before his vision finally comes into focus. never before has he ever woken up in such a state of panic, there was not a single time in his life where he’s felt so— so…

“satoru…” there it is again, that voice… he feels something cup his cheek, something warm and soft and grounding. the sensation introduces a familiar urge to close his eyes again, to lean into the touch so that his heart can go back to business as usual.

“there, there,” you cooed softly, swiping your thumb over his cheekbone as he finally started to come down from his panic. “you’re okay, satoru, it was just a bad dream…”

it took another minute or two for the quickened rate of his breathing to slow to a steady rhythm, and by the time his eyes fluttered back open, the exhaustion on his face was heartbreakingly prominent in the near-pitch darkness of your shared bedroom.

his eyes took a moment to adjust to the dark once more, but the moment they did he was met with a look of worry in your eyes— the very ones he catches himself getting lost in more often than not.

“did it… happen this time?” you asked carefully, chewing on your lower lip when you felt him briefly tense up beside you.

satoru’s nightmares weren’t anything new. he’d been having them on and off for the last couple of weeks, ever since the incident.

to be fair, almost everything about his nightmares were consistent with reality— the 4 of you were caught off guard by a horde. you had all split up when the sheer amount of the undead became too much for you all to handle. suguru got cornered and had to get his arm amputated right along his shoulder bone.

the only difference is that a zombie didn’t actually tear at your gut. it’d gotten damn close; you felt the light tug on your shirt in the heat of the moment, and the stain of decayed biological matter left behind on the tee was proof of that. but you were never injured, never infected. you were still alive.

you were here, sitting up in bed next to satoru, cradling his tear-stained face after waking him up from the umpteenth nightmare. the ones he’d had up until this point were all more-or-less the same. they followed the same events, but only ever got as far as you pulling the gun out of satoru’s holster before the nauseating amount of emotional distress ripped him out of his slumber. other times, you’d been the one to pull him out, feeling and hearing him toss and turn every other night with a deep furrow in his brows.

by asking him if it happened this time, you were asking if his nightmare had actually gotten far enough for his subconscious to simulate himself actually committing the act of taking your own life before the infection could.

he doesn’t answer for a moment, but the way his lower lip wobbled with the emotions starting to weigh on his heart again was enough of a confirmation.

“it— it was,” his voice sounds hoarse and so, so small. he’s no stranger to vulnerability when it comes to you, but right now he’s having a hard time putting into words just how utterly shattered his heart feels. “it felt so real, i don’t— i don’t know…”

satoru trails off, letting his gaze travel down your face, following the outline of your arm before finally spotting your free hand. he slides his hand over yours— carefully tracing his fingertips over your knuckles, mapping out a route he already memorized a long time ago.

he slips his fingers around the base of your palm and squeezes hard. in his anxious, exhausted state, he’s having trouble deciphering what’s reality. he just needed to make sure.

“‘toru,” you murmured softly, tilting your head when you picked up on his hesitation. you rubbed your thumb over his cheekbone again, gently guiding his face to tilt upwards. “sweetheart, look at me.”

not even a second later, he does. he meets your gaze again and you couldn’t help it, then— the corners of your lips twitched upwards, threatening to break out into a small smile of light amusement. you leaned forward, softly pressing your lips to his in the most gentle kiss you could muster. he kissed you back with a split second of desperation before it melted into a lazy little peck. he’s exhausted.

his eyes remain closed when you pulled back after a few seconds, only momentarily opening when you both began to lay back again. the second his head hit the pillow his arms were slinking around you, pulling you as close as physically possible to his chest. any other night it would’ve been mildly smothering, but not tonight.

tonight, you hugged him back just as tightly. tonight, he buried his face in your hair as he’d done so many times before, wrapping himself fully around your body and letting your scent lull him back to sleep. tonight, you whispered your love to him in a candied tone, hoping the words seared into his brain just long enough for his subconscious to base his dreams on an i love you instead of a goodbye. you whispered affirmations that you were still here, that you weren’t going anywhere, that nothing would ever separate you two.

that he still had you, and you him.

heh.. SIKE!!!!!! 🤣🤣🫵🏼 they all lived b*tch B)

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