╳°»｡ ∾･⁙･ ღ ➵ ⁘ ➵ ღ ･⁙･∾ ｡«°╳
PARIS IS NOT as beautiful as it should be.
Just this morning you had picked roses from a flower orchard wide as two football fields, and bought lemons bright as the sun from a smiling street vendor. Just this afternoon you had skipped along cobbled streets, with the blooming bud of a flower tucked behind your ear as you clopped along the stone with jumping heels.
The city just feels too much like him.
You sit atop the edge of a stone balcony overlooking entire mountains of green. The forests below you have dimmed in color with the setting sun and are as dark as the thoughts that swirl through your mind.
Your feet swing into the air. You could swing right off the balcony yourself, body and all. It would mean freedom. Whether or not you could save yourself with the power that lies inside you would be your own choice. Something you, on your own, would finally be able to have full control of.
The air is crisp as ice. You wonder how it is you'll be able to live while knowing he no longer breathes at all.
You stand from the ledge. Hop down from the old, time-worn stone to head back into the small loft the school rented out for you as a transient place of sojourn for this mission.
It smells of books and worn wood as you step inside. The thick scent of yellowed, moth-torn pages spills from a bookshelf standing by an old sofa that lies spread out in the space between your tiny kitchen and living room.
You plop down onto the sofa without bothering to turn the lights on. You try to remember his smile as your eyes close. The only one you can think of is the last one he gave you as he died. The last one you ever had the chance to kiss from his lips.
"Stupid, stupid Sukuna," you whisper, hiding your wet eyes from no one with an arm over your face. "That stupid motherfucker. Hope he was blown to fucking hell."
You sigh out a quiet sob. It feels as if someone shoved shards of glass into your throat and forced you to swallow. His name lives in your mind, along with the rest of him.
A loud buzz vibrates from your kitchen counter. You wipe your tears with numb fingers and stand to grab your phone. Your eyes ache from the darkness as you stare at the bright screen, trying to make out the letters glowing there.
You read the caller ID again. Your eyes widen. The phone rings with more urgency. Your knees nearly buckle beneath you from the shock.
"Who...?" you whisper.
You fall back into the counter as shock spreads through each of your nerves. Your chest throbs. Your heart aches and pounds. Through the darkness you see your hands shake with their hold on the phone.
You swallow. Get a grip of yourself once more, and firmly settle on the notion that it must be some random prankster trying to get ahold of one of Yuji's family members. It can't be him. It could never be him. You had to see him die. Had to watch him bleed out while you held him in your arms and cleaned the dirt from his face. Had to struggle against Megumi as he tried to pull you away from Yuji's lifeless body. Had to dream of the hole in his chest and the way he would never hold you again for days and weeks on end.
With a deep breath that rattles your bones, you press answer, then raise the phone to your ear.
"...Hello—?"
"(Y/N)," gasps a voice from the phone. "Baby. God, I missed your voice."
You drop the phone. It falls and lands on the floor with a sharp crack, but does not break. Yuji's voice erupts with panic.
"(Y/N)?! Are you okay? I'm sorry! Did I startle you? I'm so sorry, are you—"
"Yuji?" you cry out with both hands clutching the phone as you press it to your ear. You sit with both knees on the floor. The shock has left you nerveless. "Yuji, is that you?"
"(Y/N)," he says. "I'm so sorry. Did I startle you? I just wanted to—"
"Turn your fucking camera on," you order in a shaky voice, but you snap your words with such venom they sound sharp to even your ears. "Turn it on. If you're a fucking prank caller, I'll—I'll fucking kill you."
"No! No, (Y/N), it's me, see?" Yuji tries so hard to calm you. Your phone brightens further. A hesitant smile fills the screen. It is the smile of the boy you love. You face scrunches up, and you sob.
"Yuji!" You rest your forehead on the screen as your body wracks with heaving sobs. "Yuji, you stupid... stupid asshole..."
Yuji's insides clench at the sounds of pain that ring in his ears. His eyes go misty and he almost kisses his phone. If only he could hold you. If only you already knew the truth. If you did then this would have been so much easier.
"Baby," he says. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
His chest aches. The wraith of your touch slips along his fingers. His hands tremble. He doesn't want to close his eyes, but since he left you every time his eyes fall shut he feels your touch, hears you laugh, sees your smile. He can see you now but he feels none of the touches you used to give him.
"What the hell happened?" you ask from your end of the line in a sorrowful voice. "How the hell are you alive?"
"I think I'm not supposed to" —Apprehension nearly silences him but he pushes on— "Well, something... I just remember waking up, and I was on this metal inspection table, and Ieri-san was about to cut me up, or something, and then Gojo-sensei was there, and so was Ijichi, and—so many things happened. But... I don't know how I'm alive. I think... Sukuna brought us back."
"That bastard," you mutter to yourself. "That fucking bastard, he—"
"Baby," Yuji begs. "Please, please don't be mad. I don't want you to be mad."
"But he—he—fuck. Okay. Okay, Yuji." You open your eyes to look at him and almost hack out another fit of sobs. "Okay."
"Yeah?" His face hovers only two inches away from the screen. He can barely see you. "Are you okay, baby?"
He brings his head closer to the screen. The bare, weak light of your phone does nothing to reduce the shadows hanging over your features. Exhaustion lines your eyes, turns your mouth downward. He wants to cradle you in his arms and put you to sleep like he would all those nights ago. So he cradles you with his words as he provides you with the best explanation he can offer, regardless of how everyone else told him to keep his mouth shut.
"You okay, (Y/N)?" he asks again when he's finished. He appraises you with worry.
"No," you reply to him, sniffing quietly. You wipe your nose on your sleeve. "Of course not. I had to watch you die. I believed you were dead and had to beat myself into accepting the fact that you would never come back. I had to listen while Gojo-sensei told me they wouldn't be able to bury your body properly because they had to examine you like you were only some part of a stupid science experiment and not the sorcerer who was able to save the lives of millions. That that was all you were, and that you were never the first boy I have ever loved." Your face pinches as you hold back another flood of tears. "And I miss you, Yuji. I miss you so much."
With this, he breaks.
"I miss you, too," he says with his head on the phone. "And I'm so sorry. Even I don't understand what the hell happened." He raises his eyes as he says this. Wants you to know everything he says is the absolute, hard and solid truth. "So many fucked-up things happened. But that doesn't matter shit to me. I just want to see you. Just want to hug you and kiss you, and smell your hair."
"Ew." Your laugh is feeble, but it's there. It's genuine. "Okay, you sappy weirdo."
"But I do. I really do." He kisses the phone. You see and hear it and your laugh becomes a little louder. Yuji smiles so big it hurts. "I want to see you so bad."
"Then make sure you don't go dying on us next time, dumbass," you say, without the slightest hint of spite. It is his turn to laugh. It's a beautiful sound. In an unconscious movement you hold the phone closer to your ear to savor what his happiness sounds like. It is something you haven't heard in a long, long time.
"Of course, (Y/N)." Yuji looks out his window. Smiles at the same sky you live under. "I'll never hurt you like this again, because I love you. So much."
"A lot?"
"Too much. Always."