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"It's no one." (Y/n) answered nervously, putting her hand on the cooled frame as her skin began to heat up. A shadow casted over her unsure eyes. "Now get away from me."

Gojo look down at her surprised and then smirked. "Oh~, is that what's happening now..?" He leaned in further, his hair tickling her forehead in the dark room. She could feel her toes curl as his breath hit her skin.

Her leg was still positioned up in his hand, her waist sucked in close to his. Satoru blew in her ear, causing (Y/n) to gasp and let go of the frame, bursting into shades of red like a chameleon trying to adjust to its environment. She could smell a little alcohol on him.

Backing away to the bedroom door to create some space, he flashed his flashlight from his phone into her eyes to keep her at bay. "H-Hey!" She protested. "Are you really drunk? Give it back!" She swatted.

He looked down at the picture, cocking his head to the side like a child would a shiny object. "And what if I'm not? What are you gonna do about it..."

'Who is this?' Gojo asked himself. He could see the picture clear as day, but something was off about it.

(Y/n)...she looked happier and brighter. The man next to her had his hand on her waist. He had tropical blue hair and a aura that practically influenced (Y/n). He looked happy.

"Who is this man, (Y/n)?" Satoru questioned, turning his flashlight off. He put his phone in his pocket. (Y/n) balled her fists, irritated and spoke as if she was cursing Satoru.

"What is it to you? I'm not asking anything about the women you're seeing."

"How would you know I'm seeing other women?"

"Because I know! Now give it back." The dim light faded from her eyes. She held out her right hand firmly with a spooked look on her face, thinking, 'You're the last person who should care.'

Satoru tapped his finger on the picture frame, thinking about how to play this out. He figured now was the perfect time for answers.

"Tell me, (Y/n)..." He beckoned with a sullen voice; his expression changed and his voice lowered an octave. His perky smile was replaced with a grim serious thin line. Satoru's energy felt dark and cold, nothing like (Y/n) had seen before. Opening his supple lips, he spoke:

"...is this the man that went through your mind when Sukuna...?"

(Y/n), taken aback, couldn't help but to take a literal step back. It was starting to come back: screaming, crying to God like a madman. Her late father died on a gloomy evening; the kind where the sun doesn't shine from day till night.

It didn't matter if she screamed. No one cared. No one. She figured it had to be a set up. Kyo escaped into the night, a wild half-breed of a lover and a curse, without a trace, yet to this day he wasn't exorcised. He was roaming out there. He was alive.

The hard thumping of her fist-sized heart catalyzed her throat to dry and her mouth to quiver. With an unsettling stomach, she grasped her abdomen and gulped down the excess saliva, coming to a realization:

'This was a mistake. Coming to Jujutsu Tech was a mistake...'

"I—I can't s-say..."

Gojo stared at her and put his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. He tilted his head upward and took off his glasses. "And why is that?" He asked in a hushed tone.

"Because I can't, okay?!"

Her outburst was followed by harsh, small breaths. She was on the verge of a panic attack, and Satoru, being the person he was, didn't care. He was pressed for answers now that she was cornered. He stopped tapping his finger on the frame.

𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 s.gojo x readerWhere stories live. Discover now