Old Beats | Gojo Satoru x Reader

III

The boy was staring at you, but he didn't react. Behind you, you heard the noise of the curse's heavy hooves running towards you. You gently pushed the child out of the playpen and yelled "Now!!!"

The boy finally ran off, and at the same instant, you turned towards the curse. It was too close and you didn't have time to load the bow. You grabbed an arrow from the quiver behind your back, clenching your fist around it and charging it with cursed energy. When the curse was close to you, you lunged at it and drove the arrow with all your might into its chest. The creature's skin began to smoke and screeched, but you hadn't stabbed it deep enough to kill it.

You felt an impact on your side, and you went rolling on the ground. You were on fours on the floor, feeling a sharp pain in your ribs. The air passed with difficulty through your lungs, and you reached behind your back to catch another arrow, but your hand closed on nothing. They weren't there.

You looked up in horror at the curse, who held your quiver in his hand. It was playing with the arrows, watching them carefully. That thing was smart. The curse had watched you fight and had distracted you to disarm you.

You crawled back to the ground, the sand and stones digging into the palms of your hands, and the curse turned on you with renewed interest. All you had left was fight with your bare fists and pray to be stronger. You've always hated hand-to-hand fighting.

"No offense, but you suck at this."

You were on all fours in the training field, after being thrown into the air by a clean hit from Gojo. You spat on the ground noticing the taste of copper in your mouth. When it came to training, the boy never gave anyone the cold shoulder.

"I'm used to shooting from a distance. Hand-to-hand fighting is not my strong point." You sighed as you struggled to get up.

It had already gotten dark on the training ground and although Yaga had finished today's class, Satoru had insisted on continuing to practice. The lanky frame of the boy towered over you.

"You can't always depend on your weapon." He said with a smile on his face. You were sure he found some satisfaction in knocking you down over and over again, though he said it was for training's sake. He extended his left arm towards you, showing the palm of his hand. "Come on, hit me with all your might."

You looked at him suspiciously.

"I'll let you touch me." He said impatiently.

You raised your arms in an attack position and threw your fist with all your strength at the boy's hand. Satoru took the impact and didn't move an inch. His smile widened even more as he wraped his fingers around your fist and despair spread across your face.

"You are weak." He said almost in a whisper.

With a graceful wave of his arm, Satoru threw you back to the ground with just the grip on your fist.

You whined from the floor. "Everyone is weak compared to the strongest."

Satoru crouched down next to you, and he held out his hand to help you up. You glanced warily at the boy's hand, the long, pale fingers reaching toward you, and pushed it away. Seeking to regain some dignity, you tried to get up on your own, but your own body failed you. This had been the umpteenth time you hit the ground that afternoon and your muscles were sore.

Your friend chuckled, and he grabbed you from behind and below your knees, hauling you against his chest. You stifled a surprised sigh.

"Always so cocky." Teased Satoru as he made his way through the training ground, back to school. You felt his warm breath on your skin, a shiver running through your body.