Saikyō || The Strongest || 最強 (Under Editing)

8 - 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

Yume's eyes twinkled, instantly forgetting the whole Geto thing. "But you're attracted to him?"

I gave her a dead stare which made her press her lips into a thin line. "But I think he's not a bad person. I dislike egotistic idiots like him, but I don't hate those who don't do unjustified harm to others. He's tolerable."

The girl beside me rested her chin on her knuckles after she set aside the arrows. It seemed she was getting invested in what I was saying, considering how she toned down her jokes.

"I think he's a paradox, but maybe I'm just looking too much into it," I continued as my hands did their thing with the other dagger. "Gojo-san perfectly resembles his technique. Just when you think you finally understand him, another layer of him separates you from each other. Like... infinity."

A part of me frowned upon the words I'd been saying. As much as I thought I had to stop talking about it to avoid Yume's questions, I couldn't bring myself to. There were more things I felt the need to voice out.

Have I actually been thinking about Gojo this way?

"Maybe I'm just projecting my insecurities onto him, but I pity his situation." Not him. Gojo looked far too confident with himself it was impossible to imagine him pitiful. "He only seems carefree around one person while being distant from everyone else– I wonder if someone can actually live like that."

"Distant? You think so?" Yume pondered about what I said. "Isn't he just really... Up there?"

Despite the vague choice of words, I understood what Yume meant. Gojo Satoru was on another level as a human being. Still, I stuck with what I observed. "I don't know, but I can only imagine how it is for him. If you're the strongest, who helps you? Who protects you? No wonder why he's only unguarded when Geto-san's around."

Yume fell silent, so did I. I guessed she had found my point valid. While doing so, my chest began to feel heavy. The conversation suddenly evoked uneasiness within my stomach. I began to wonder how I should react if my speculations were ever true.

All this time, is Gojo even alright with his setup?

Lost in thoughts, my right hand was caught in the blade of the dagger. The sharp pain from my splitting skin woke me from my reverie. I had been polishing it far too aggressively while my head was wandering around.

"(F/n)!"

Blood dripped all over my lap, seeping into my uniform and into the crevices of the wooden desk while I only stared at my hand without knowing how to react. It did hurt, but my realizations toward Gojo messed up the problems' salience.

"(F/n)-san." A long-haired guy stepped in, pulling the dagger off my hand. He swiftly grabbed whatever clean cloth he could find and pressed it on the fresh wound, momentarily stopping the bleeding. "What are you doing so absentmindedly?"

"I'm alright, I'm alright," I stammered. My assurance didn't convince Yume one bit. She stood up and called for Shoko in haste.

"Is your mind somewhere else?," Geto chuckled as the panic started to subside. He was still holding my hand to retain pressure, his thumb pressing on the opening itself while his other hand wiped the blood off my knuckles.

"I can do it myself," I assured, attempting to pull my hand away.

Geto steadied my hand with gentle force. "Don't make me release curses to restrain you, Ojou-sama."