「e n e m y」gojo s. x reader [book 5]

⊳twenty-four

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chapter twenty-four: give me time

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Sora watched through narrowed eyes as Isamu crouched behind Kameyo's head, staring down at her horrified face through his mask. His fingers drummed on the handles of his blades, which were wedged in the floorboards on either side of the teenager's head. Her hand clutched her thigh, and Sora raspily called out to her brother.

"She's got another one," She said, wincing as she clutched her hand to her chest. She held her hand around the blade, too afraid to pull it out.

Kameyo whipped her head to the side, her glare intensifying as Isamu leaned forward and plucked the small kunai from her hand. He sat back, twirling the weapon in his hands.

"Let me ask you something, Kameyo Vance," He said. "What's the purpose of all of this?"

"I don't have to say a damn thing to you!" She shouted, freezing when the cold blade of the kunai he'd just taken from her pressed against the apex of her throat.

"If you don't start talking, I'll tear your vocal cords out and strangle you with them. Then you'll never be able to speak again, and we'll never have another problem."

"D-Don't kill her," Sora said shakily. Isamu turned his head.

"Would you like to do it, then?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

Sora pulled herself to her feet. She stumbled and swayed at first; her head was pounding from the hundreds of thoughts that began to swirl in her mind. This was her friend. What the hell was she thinking, talking about killing her. Kameyo was no older than her! Their birthdays were just mere months apart.

Her hands were trembling as she reached out and took the kunai from Isamu's hand. She tried to stop the shaking in her body, but the more she tried to stop, the more she seemed to shake. She didn't understand. She'd come to terms with the fact that she had to kill her before. She even wrote a letter to her parents apologizing for being the one that had to do it.

But they were friends. Best friends. So close that sometimes they were believed to be sisters. They'd been friends for as long as she could remember. She'd always been there for her. Kameyo used to stick up for Sora in middle school when she was too afraid to say anything for herself. She always sided with her during fights because she always trusted that she was right. She took hits during training to keep Sora from getting them.

She cared about her. And here she was, holding a blade above her, reading to spill her blood. But for what? Even if she did kill her, it wouldn't bring back the people she'd killed. She'd just be taking another child from another mother and father.

The blade slipped from her hands as she collapsed to her knees with a sob. She put her hands to her head, screwing her eyes shut.

"I-I can't k-kill her!"

Isamu made no move to take action as Kameyo sprang to her feet. She took her discarded blade from the ground and darted to the broken window. She paused and looked back at Sora. Her body shook with sobs, blood running down her pale arms.

"I'm sorry, Sora. I just wanted it to be you and I."

Sora raised her head, her lips parting as she watched her friend disappear out of the window. She looked back down, her tears blurring her vision. She forgot about her pain for the moment, ignoring the blood that was coming from her body.

Her eyes widened at the set of black boots that stopped in front of her. She could see her reflection in the shiny silver bade that was picked from the ground. Her blue eyes stared back at her, trembling in fear.

"I knew you'd be too scared to do it," Isamu said, replacing the weapon in the sheath on his back. He knelt down, slowly pulling the blade from her chest. She choked out a whimper and buried her face into his shoulder, clutching his jacket tightly.

"S-Sh-She's my best f-friend..."

"You don't have what it takes to do this," He said, slipping his arms under her knees and around her back before lifting her as he stood.

"N-No, I-I do—"

"Stop," He said sternly, making her eyes go wide. "You're not cut out for this, Sora."

"No!" She cried, writhing around in his arms when she saw the figure standing down the hall. "Isamu, please! I-If you just keep training me—!"

"I've made up my mind," He said. "You told me you trusted me. So trust my decision."

He placed her on the ground in front of the man. She clung to him, her arms locked around his neck.

"I-Isamu, please! Don't do this! I want to help!" She cried.

He took her arms from his neck. "You're a child, Sora. You don't deserve to do this. Don't let her come back, Satoru."

He placed his hand on her shoulder. "I won't."

"No! No, stop! Isamu, don't kill her!" Sora screamed, thrashing around as her father grabbed her. "Don't kill her!"

"Sora," Her father snapped. "Enough."

"N-No! I-I—!"

Her eyes rolled back when her father touched her forehead. She slumped forward in his arms, making him lift her up. He turned his attention to Isamu.

"Why did you train her if you knew she wouldn't be able to kill her?" Satoru asked.

"Because she'll realize soon enough that she can do it," He said, turning to the window.

He looked back at Satoru, removing his mask for just a moment. Satoru's eyes widened at the set of yellow irises that stared back at him. He climbed into the window, his hand holding it open as he cocked his head to the side.

"She just needs to get mad enough."

He placed the mask back onto his face, then dropped from the window, vanishing from view. Satoru clenched his jaw and looked down at Sora. Even while asleep, her eyebrows were furrowed together, her hand clutching the wound on her chest. He closed his eyes and exhaled softly.

"A trouble-maker, just like your fuckin' mother."

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