Jujustu Kaisen oneshots

Sensory Overload

Like promised, he eventually made his way to his apartment. He didn't lock the door, but he didn't notice. He didn't even bother to take off his shoes, or turn on any lights. The sun shining through his curtains was already too much. He just clumsily beelined to the rather large bathroom that was connected to his bedroom. The door was already open, he figured it'd be quicker. After almost closing it, he felt his heart quicken, unable to make it to the bedroom, and falling to his knees instantly. The cold tile floor pierced through his skin like needles, forcefully dragging him back into his body. But it was too forceful. He felt everything at once, every hair brushing against his ears, every out of place fiber on his shirt touching his stomach, he heard his refrigerator fill with ice, he heard children playing outside and the grass they ripped out, he heard he felt he saw he knew he sensed he noticed he felt he felt he felt he felt he felt he felt he felt HE FELT HE FELT HE FELT

It was all too much. The breathing he'd finally managed to steady dropped out of his control. He hyperventilated, he felt his pulse throb in his ears, pounding throughout his head. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to breathe. His throat tightened. He felt like he was choking. Salty tears spread from corner to corner in his eyes like a fresh wound to the epidermis would bleed. God, he'd take any injury over this. Every time somebody walked on the sidewalk in front of his house, the vibration sent another spike of pain through his skull. It felt as though he had a thousand rubber bands around his head.

His fingers on his left hand tightened around whatever he could grab on the floor, pulling out some of the caulk, while his right was gripping his shirt firmly. All of his limbs were uncontrollably shaking. No matter what he did, nothing was stopping it. Please stop it. Please make it end. PLEASE. He stared down at the tear-stained tiles, but he couldn't even calm his vision as his glasses slipped off his face and clacked against the ground. He felt paralyzed, he couldn't put them back on. He was supposed to be the strongest sorcerer, why is this happening? He could see every little imperfection the concrete hosted. Why does that upset him? The curtains are closed. There are no windows in this room. Why is it so bright? This hasn't happened this bad since his school days. This wasn't supposed to happen. Why is it so bright? Please make it stop. Please make it stop. PLEA

"Well, that was boring. I'm going back to my apartment." Gojo's final words before leaving the building continued to penetrate Nanami's thoughts, no matter how much he tried to push them down. Even though what he said didn't really have any meaning on the surface, he seemed... strange while saying it. Even though he acted normal, something in his eyes was off. They seemed dull, he seemed like, a fake, in a way? Nobody else appeared to notice, but he'd known him since high school. He could always tell when his tone was weird, when it was rushed and flat like today. How, even though he seemed to be able to communicate, he didn't even notice Kento's inquiry.

He sat in a nice settee he bought about a month ago, reading Dostoevsky. But no matter how hard he tried to focus, he couldn't help but feel like something was horribly wrong with Satoru. It wasn't his problem. If he really needed something, he'd message him... No, he probably wouldn't... Fuck. He didn't want to care, Gojo was a grown man, he could take care of himself. But he never communicates when he's having trouble with something, and he can actually be pretty self destructive. Who knows what could be happening to him right now? What if something's actually wrong, and he ignored it, and Gojo got hurt? He'd rather embarrass himself with a random visit when nothing was actually wrong than let that happen.

So, there he was, standing before Satoru's apartment at 9:37 P.M. This was so stupid. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his fist to the door to knock. "Gojo?" He heard a small click on the door, realizing it wasn't locked at all. How odd. Realizing nobody was coming after a minute or so, he invited himself in. "I'm coming in," the trespasser announced into the seemingly empty house. The lights were off, but he was already basically breaking in, he didn't really have the right to decide if it should be on. He stepped in and closed the door behind him, actually locking it this time. He noticed another door that was cracked open and approached it. He opened the door gently, looking up and down.