Saikyō || 最強

11 - 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

"I have to sleep, we have training tomorrow."

His lower lip quivered when he looked up to me. He began fiddling with his fingers as if he was unsure about wanting to say something. "I don't like..."

"Eh? But it's mandatory," I softly explained. I sat beside him and placed my other hand on his head, caressing his white hair.

Is Gojo's hair really this soft?

"Hate training," he squeaked, looking down at our hands. He was playing with my fingers, intertwining them then swinging our arms a bit. "Training hurts."

What? He was training...already?

I didn't mean he was included in training since we still didn't know when his original form would return and I assumed he wouldn't know because of his young age, but I realized I had no idea what Gojo Satoru's childhood was like.

No. I was so quick to judge him I didn't even know what he went through.

Something in my chest clenched when I saw the trembling child in front of me. It was heartbreaking how he seemed to dread training so much when he wasn't even supposed to know what that was at this age.

"You're training already?," I repeated, hoping to get more answers from him.

The little boy of about five nodded meekly. "Oka-san said my technique manifested early so I have to master it early, too. But I just wanna go play outside..."

After tucking him beneath the sheets, I began patting him gently on a constant tempo. "And you weren't allowed?"

He shook his head, a sad smile on his lips. "Oto-san said it's a waste of time. But it's okay if I don't play. I don't need it."

If there was something peculiar about this child, it was his way of addressing himself. Most children I had met, including Toge, would refer to themselves in third person or would use gentler-sounding pronouns. Gojo was different. With every mention of the word "I", it was as if he was assuming responsibility himself. I doubted a child that age could even understand what responsibility truly meant.

"You're so mature." The words subconsciously left my mouth in a soft string of whisper. "You're very strong and you make me proud."

A small smile began to blossom in his lips before it erupted into a full grin. "They say I am like that."

"Mn. But you're a child. You don't have to be strong or mature. You just have to be happy and safe." To hide the impending tears welling on my eyes, I pulled him to my arms and hugged him tightly.

"But I am strong, I can protect myself!," he grumbled.

"Of course." He had no choice but to think so. But still, he was so small and so young. Like Toge. I couldn't imagine how people could put their children through those things for their selfish satisfaction. What were they doing? "Please, just grow up comfortably. Not to satisfy anyone's dreams or needs."

This was Gojo Satoru- an undeniably strong yet arrogant and downright insensitive person.

He was this kid once, and the thought itself hurt. Because I knew whatever I was saying right now wouldn't change anything. And I somehow wished someone said these exact words to the child I was years ago, too.