《G O O D B Y E 》GOJO S. x READER [BOOK 3]

《O N E》

《CHAPTER ONE》

《WARNINGS: SLIGHT GOREY THEMES》

       THE WIND BLEW PAST, making the woman shudder. She paused, looking over her shoulder. The black-haired male stopped, pulling the lavender scarf closer to the child in his arms before walking back to the woman’s side. 

Fallen leaves swirled at their feet, brushing along their legs and hitting their shoes before moving on. The trees swayed with the breeze. The h/c woman held the bundle of orange blossoms a little tighter, fearing the wind might destroy them. 

They ventured further into the cemetery, passing rows, and rows of other headstones. Finally, they arrived at a black gate. The woman pulled a key from her pocket, grabbing the lock with her other hand. She opened the gate once it had been unlocked, frowning at the state in front of her. 

“We’ll have to come back another day and clean off Sobo’s headstone,” She said aloud, running her fingers over the smooth stone of her Grandmother’s grave. 

“And Jiji’s,” The male noted. The woman nodded in agreement before crouching in front of a grave. She reached out, brushing the dead leaves from the surface. 

L/n Juno. 8 June 1954 -- 31 October 2018. 

“Hard to believe Okaasan’s been gone for a year,” 

Placing the child down, the older man ran his fingers over the engravings. The infant leaned against his knee, her small hand wrapped around his much larger finger. His gray eyes shifted from the stone to the woman beside him. 

“Yeah, but,” She placed the bundle of orange blossoms on the ground. “It’s better she didn’t see any of this. If her sickness didn’t kill her, seeing me turn out the way I did would have.”

“Y/n, don’t say that,” He sighed. “You know Okaasan would have gotten out of that bed and beat your ass for saying that.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” She chuckled airily. “I wish she could have met Sora, though.”

At the sound of her name, the child looked toward her mother. Y/n smiled softly, reaching to pull the hat back over her ears. She giggled and nestled back against her uncle. 

“She would have loved her. Especially with how much she looks like Satoru,” Sho said, kissing the girl’s cheek. 

“Shota,” The woman said, standing to her feet with a fluid motion. “Has anyone been inside the mausoleum?”

The man looked over at the white concrete structure. The words ‘Haiyaku’ were engraved into the stone, covered by brass lettering. There were four pillars on all sides. A wooden door stood in the center, the surface engraved with an intricate, careful design. On either side of the door, there was a carving in the stone of a woman wearing drapes, holding a child to her chest.