Warning: Nothing for you, but I was really upset when I wrote this chapter. I love Y/N so much...
Year: 2019
Four days after Rika and Y/N's encounter
The sound of raindrops hitting the glass made the silence of the room even more unbearable.
The infirmary felt much smaller than usual. Like there was something outside pressing against the windows, aching to come in. Maybe it was the noise. It probably was the noise.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
A thousand, million taps at once. The language of water. And yet, the air inside seemed heavy, or about to be.
The lines of water blurred the scenery of bloomed trees outside the window, but it didn't matter. She had the image anchored in her mind of all the mornings spent looking out the same window.
She exhaled deeply and tried to capture the smell of the rain as much as she could with her next inhale. The ancients used to call it Petrichor, the earthy fragrance produced when rain falls on dry soil.
"Y/N, do you think you can keep staring at the rain and ignore me?" A voice was heard by a man seated in a chair a few meters from her bed, arms crossed.
He always wore his black clothes from head to toe with his famous sunglasses. Except that this time his frowns were tangled, and it seemed that procrastination further on would not end in anyone's favor.
Y/N sighed, slowly pulling her legs towards her abdomen below the blanket and wrapping her arms around her knees. Her fingers found each other, locking together while her teeth began to chew her lips.
She knew where that conversation would lead. So she took one big breath and tried not to look into Yaga's eyes, "I'm listening."
"I expected more from you," the school principal's voice was filled with regret. Of course, he cannot be blamed because he never thought that Y/N would be someone who might lie or hide anything from him. Was he wrong about her to begin with? Maybe she was actually someone who could slit everyone's throat in sleep, cold heart. His trust had obviously been betrayed.
"I'm sorry," she pressed her lips together and lowered her head. Now her hair was on the side of her face, and thankfully, the strands helped her sad eyes get covered behind them. It wasn't the first time anyone had been disappointed in her, but still, it hurt even more. Because this man, Yaga Masamichi, was the one who accepted her into that school and allowed her to have a permanent roof over her head and a little family around after years.
"How long were you planning on not telling me?" His voice wasn't angry at all, and somehow Y/N wished he could yell at her, curse her, or something like that because she could assimilate it more easily than the frustration of his tone. He wasn't furious; he was sorry.
"I wanted to hide it whenever I could." There was nothing left to lie about. Everybody knew everything or got to know everything sooner or later. But who could predict what might happen next? Expel? Exile? Arrest? Worst of all, the execution? After all, what she had done was worthy of the harshest punishment under the laws of the jujutsu world.
"This issue will not pass unnoticed by the Higher Ups," he removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes. "I can't even imagine the reaction of the head of the Gojo family and the elders. They won't tolerate it at all."
The blood in her veins froze, and shivers fell down her spine. Did the room get cold? The room was probably cold, or why should Y/N tremble?
"He is the heir of six eyes, the holder of the limitless technique and the future head of the Gojo clan, while from their point of view, you are a cursed womb. A half curse. A murderer. They won't understand this." He closed his eyes. When and where did the whole thing go off the rails?
And was that a sin?
Y/N's hands tightened, and her knuckles went white. If anyone looked, they would see that her nails were digging into her bare skin. Old habits never die. She used to grip something or gasp her fist tightly to the point where blood could be drawn from it. If Satoru were there, he wouldn't allow it. He wasn't there, though, was he?
It didn't seem to matter how much Satoru whispered in her ear that she was the most beautiful creature in the world because apparently, she was just a beautiful human being in his eyes. She was always supposed to remain in the minds of others like a monster.
That's what Toji said. Sorcerers accepted nobody but themselves. And unfortunately, Y/N wasn't the same as them. No. Not at all.
Tears slowly slipped over her cheeks, leaving damp spots on the blanket.
Cry.
Cry.
Cry.
Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday. She wasn't upset with Yaga. He was the only one who had told her the truth. The truth that was forgotten by all.
"Is it so hard?" She sighed, leaning back to the cold metallic headboard behind her.
Yaga stared at her, frowning so slightly, "is what so hard?"
"To accept me," she looked at the traces of her nails in her palm, glancing over at him. "Could it really be so hard to accept someone like me?"
He bit the inner corner of his left cheek and squeezed his eyes shut in hopes that it might stop him from saying anything he would regret. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees while tying his fingers together. He let out a small whisper as he reopened his eyes. "Perhaps."
She turned her face towards the window. The saddest part was realizing that she had fallen madly in love with what could never be. Was crying a remedy to the pain? Was the sky rainier or her eyes?
She took a deep breath, starting to talk with faltering words, "he's stupid, annoying, I mean really annoying, but he is sweet. He's kind of crazy, but he's real. He is a joker but he is so adorable at time. He irritates me like hell, but then he really cares about me. He is...he is...he is perfect, you know." She had a bitter smile hanging from her lips. Bitter than Shiraz wine.
"It's normal," he whispered. "That's just the way love works."
It warmed her heart that at least he valued her enough not to make a mockery of her feelings. Value enough to believe that she too can fall in love. She turned her face to Yaga and gathered the courage to utter her following words while squeezing the sheets tightly.
"I am no fool. I know he is not mine." Have anyone heard the song named Gloomy Sunday? Yeah, the so-called Hungarian Suicide Song pushed more than 100 people to end their lives. Yep. That one. Y/N's tone was gloomier than that song.
Yaga got up to go to Y/N but stopped within walking distance. Aha, right. He remembered. He remembered that in this great world, it was only Satoru who could touch her, take her in his arms, comfort her, love her. And he, cruelly, asked her to let go of that person, that love, that rare of hope in her doomed life. Yaga shook his head. After all, mourning was better than dying.
He looked at her. He could swear that the cracks in her heart were visible through her eyes. He could see the pain she was feeling just by looking at her face. But he knew that sometimes you had to hurt someone to help them.
"And I don't think he ever will be." Were they tears or drops of blood? Whatever they were, it didn't matter anymore because Y/N wiped them with the back of her hand, "and maybe that's a good thing, because things are never how you imagine, and having expectations only ever sets a creature like me up to disappointment." She closed her eyes and wished him to be by her side, wiping away her tears. "I know this love will break me. It might tear me apart and shatter me into a million little pieces like I'm a sheet of glass. And the worst part is that I would let it." Her voice cracked, and her sobs filled the room.
Unfortunately, she also knew she needed to give up the feelings she had for Satoru. She had to stop loving him wholeheartedly. She had to because he wasn't hers. She had been through enough. She had to let him go now. She needed to. But love was something she'd never experienced before. So she couldn't find it in herself to do so.
Yes, on the other side of the infirmary walls, go a little further. In another building, at the end of the hall, as soon as the hands of the clock stopped at 10, the Sensei dismissed first-years from the classroom.
The white-haired man yawned while interlocking his fingers and extending his arms backward. He leaned back in his chair, turned his head, and his eyes fell on the raindrops sliding on the window, sticking one to another and getting bigger and bigger till fall down.
Satoru sighed, bringing down his hands and placing them into his pocket. He stood up and moved out the window. Spring clouds could rain for hours and wash everything away. Even those pink cherry blossoms. In fact, these flowers especially, because they adorned the earth more than the heavenly branches of the trees.
All of a sudden, a thought occurred to him. "This will cheer her up," a smile settled on his lips. He walked away from the window, clapped, and a few seconds later, he was on the sidewalk through the Aoyama Flower Market.
"Satoru, why are we here? What if someone sees us?" Y/N, with frowning eyebrows, looked around anxiously while biting her nails.
Satoru took a few steps, leaned over her and pulled her finger out of her mouth, and held her hand in his. "You're like a naughty girl, Y/N, chewing nails? Really?"
Y/N tried to take her hand away from him. "Look who is speaking! You told me we were on a mission, but you brought me here!" She took another look. It was as if she was sure to see someone familiar's face at any moment. When she turned her head, she faced his ocean blue eyes. Ah, those gates of hell.
"Trust me, none of the people we know or the higher Ups will come here. This is a special place! It's a flower shop combined with a tea café!" He lifted her hand and laid his lips on her knuckles. Her hands were always soft but cold. Cold as hell. Like she needed him to make her feel alive.
"Somewhere special, Han? Satoru, how many of your whores did you come here with?" She narrowed her eyes and placed her other hand on her waist, waiting for his embarrassing answer.
"You're the first," he grinned and stuck out his tongue, earning gentle hits on his shoulder from Y/N. "You know, you shouldn't punch your boyfriend on Valentine's Day; you should shower him with kisses and roses." He laughed, and the sound of his laughter warmed her heart.
"Roses? You like roses? Don't say you expect me to bring you chocolate as well!" She searched for the signs on his face. But there was nothing on his face, but a smug smile.
Satoru gave her a soft peck near her lips. "Nah, my other whores can buy me sweets and roses, I just need you to let me take you on a date," he muttered, loud enough for her to hear as he slowly inched in, hovering close enough to feel her pulse. "Please, Y/N," he whispered, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. His hot breath caressed her neck. Her weak spot.
But Satoru was mistaken. Her weakness was never her neck. Her weakness was the man standing before her that she would never be able to say no. The smile on her face already gave him an answer. He didn't even hesitate in having her waist caged around his arms. He melded his lips with hers, and she sighed into his mouth. He kissed her even deeper, and she melted down in his hug.
That day, the two held hands and sat at that tea bar like normal couples talking and laughing. After all, the world could spin even without them.
"If you don't like roses, then what's your favorite flower?" Satoru asked as he was raising his fork to attack her strawberry cake.
"Forget me not," she answered.
Satoru lifted his head and looked at her bewildered. "Why should I forget you?" He reached out to her and took her hand with a gentle squeeze. "I'll never forget you, Y/N."
She stared at his face with surprise, then broke out laughing. She put her hand over her tummy and tried to wipe the tears around her eyes. "Forget me not flowers; Myosotis! Oh my God, Satoru! You really took it seriously!" And she kept laughing as he rolled his eyes, leaning on his chair with his arms folded.
Recalling the said memory, a smile landed on Satoru's lips, and he made long steps towards the flower shop. Maybe the heavy rain or the loud thunder made no one wonder where this man in the black uniform suddenly appeared and why he did not get wet in the rain.
He entered and looked for a flower with blue petals and bright yellow centers. He knew that forget me not bloomed only for seven weeks during April and May. And gotcha! He found them. The flowers symbolized true love and fidelity.
Once Satoru paid for the bouquet, he rushed out of the shop, looked at his watch, and then looked around. There wasn't anyone there.
The shopkeeper ran after him. "Sir, sir, you have forgotten the rest of your money," but there was no sign of that tall man with white hair.
Because he had appeared in front of the school building a long time ago and was walking towards the infirmary when he noticed that Yaga was leaving the room with a sad face, he knew what had happened. He cursed himself that he had not come earlier.
The principal closed the door behind him and noticed the sorcerer standing there with a bouquet, looking at him with a serious face that he had not seen on his face in the last 12 years. When did that last happen? It was when his best friend massacred an entire village. But let's not go back in time.
"Tell me you didn't tell her the nonsense you dug in my brain for a few days!" He brought down the bouquet and clenched his fist. Why should everyone's nose be in his life? His rage was not hidden anymore. Didn't they know he could destroy all his opponents in no time?
"I did. Maybe she has a better understanding of what it means to her to have her name beside yours. If you weren't so selfish, you'd see it too!" Yaga knew that what he was saying could drive his old student to the brink of insanity, but one had to remind the truth to these two idiots in love. Because they both seemed to be blind and forgot how dangerous the higher Ups could be, especially his own father.
"I told you two days ago as well! I'm not blind or anything! I fell in love with her knowing who she truly was! I stayed in love with her because no one else made me feel the way she did. I still fell in love with her every day because there's no one I picture my future with other than her. Don't you forget this! I won't repeat it again!"
"You're signing her execution order, Satoru! They will never ever accept her as a person! She is a half..." Yaga wanted to say the word, but Satoru interrupted him. Enough was enough. He was known as an irresponsible, goofy, and light-headed sorcerer, but guess what, he also had red lines, which did not have good consequences for anyone who wanted to cross them. And above all, it was not afraid to show his power and establish his domination.
He lifted his forefinger in a threatening manner before Yaga. "You or those old farts don't dare call her half curse, a monster, or what crappy names you've given her!" He was outraged. "She is someone with a huge heart. She'll bend over backward and fold herself in half, helping out people if she can do anything! Her loyalty to me and those that mean something to her is unheard of nowadays. She smiles as she has never been hurt, and if you didn't know her, you wouldn't ever imagine her to be ever hurt! But it happens a lot. More than anyone realizes. Because she fucking stands there to take everyone's pain to her heart! How do you dare to call her a creature when she is even more human than me?" He sighed with wrath, and his chest rose and fell with every breath and exhale.
"Satoru, she is a wanted murderer. Her hand is stained with blood," Yaga gambled and dared to stare into where his piercing eyes were hidden under his sunglasses.
"So what? Me, you and everyone else in the jujutsu world, all of us have blood-stained hands! How can you allow yourselves to sit in a position of power and despise her? And quit saying that she manipulates my feelings! I am perfectly aware of the demons in her with whom she fights constantly! And let me tell you this one thing because you like to pretend that you are caring about her, she is a lot worse to herself than anything that could be said to her. You haven't seen her face when she wakes up with a nightmare," he rubbed his forehead, remembering her frightened eyes and shaking hands. Her past was still chasing her, even between his arms, and what did it mean to be the strongest when you couldn't protect your beloved?
He made his way to the infirmary, but before going inside, he stood by Yaga's side, and without looking at his face, he put his hand on his shoulder. No pressure, no threat. His voice came out husky. "She is not made of sugar and spice and everything nice. But rather fire and lighting and everything that scares. People see smoldering flames, raging winds, and they think that she's scary. They think that she can hurt them. But really, she just tends to burn herself down." He dropped his hand. "Tell them, if they hurt her, I will hurt them. I'm not afraid of shedding blood, again."
He opened the door and went inside, and Yaga stood there, with just one thought; when a devil falls in love, it's the most hauntingly beautiful thing ever, and you should be terrified for he will go to the depths of hell for her.
Satoru closed the door behind him. "Honey, I'm hoooomeee!" No sign of the menacing tone. No, nothing. He happily announced his arrival, but noticed that Y/N didn't even turn her face to look at him.
She was standing in front of the open window, staring out. Her hands were wrapped around her body as the cold breeze was washing over her face, moving her soft strands of hair. 'Is she losing weight?' Satoru thought to himself.
"Hello, Satoru," her voice was lost between the sound of raindrops and the squeaking of the old window.
Which book of poetry was her nest in her previous lives? Was she a poem by Rumi? Was she a lost script from Shakespeare? Was she André Gide's famous Nathaniel? No, no, and no. She was something more, something more precious. She was his. His Y/N.
He put his glasses in his pocket and approached her from behind. His right hand slowly crept around her belly, while his right hand held the flower in front of her.
The warmth moved in only to meet the coldness of her skin. She felt it all. Like how a touch of his finger was enough to bring her back to life, again and again, force her heart to beat, again and again. But what about the day that she would wake up alone without him by her side? What about those fucking days, Y/N? So she acted selfishly; she took in his warmth and carried it in her heart. She would need it on her long sleepless nights.
A sad smile settled on her lips as she took the bouquet from his hand. "You remembered?" She raised the bouquet and buried her nose in those beautiful, delicate blue flowers, but she recalled. They had almost no scent at all. No one was able to remember them by their smell. The forget me not flowers were doomed to be forgotten. What an irony.
She sighed and pressed the bouquet onto her chest. After all, she was a forget me not.
Now Satoru's arms were free to embrace her even tighter, snatching her coldness even better. "I never forgot to remember," he murmured while resting his chin on her shoulder and leaving soft pecks on her neck. She could feel the muffled beat of his heartbeat. The scent of vanilla and sweets filled her nostrils.
How did Higher Ups expect her to leave behind this touch, this smell, and all her memories? Was it even possible?
He pressed his body against hers, and she was well aware that one day his scent would linger on her clothes, but he would no longer be there to hold her. Her cold fingers brushed his warm ones. "Thank you, Satoru," her voice cracked and caught in her throat. She chewed her lower lip to swallow down the gulp.
Satoru closed his eyes and cursed Yaga in his heart. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled her scent. His nose glided over her ear in what appeared to be caressing movements. She could sense the tip of his nose and his lips touching her scalp. He was drinking in her scent, trying to engrave the smell in his mind.
Satoru's breath hit the crook of her neck, "I want to remember us just as we are now, in love," his hands never left her body. He never moved away. Instead, he pulled her to him, more, more and more.
Both stayed that way for a minute, not moving, not thinking, not worrying.
Y/N exhaled, and he could hear a slight tremble in her breath. He gently took the bouquet out of her hand and laid it upon the bed. Then he turned her around. She attempted to hide her face, but nothing could remain hidden from the six eyes. His thumb and forefinger gently grabbed her chin and lifted it. His eyes fleetingly glazed over as a single teardrop rolled down her cheek, and as she opened her mouth to speak, her eyes shut tight, and her mouth tightened. Soon one tear became two, four, six, eight, and instead of exhaling, she violently gasped for air with every sob. Her eyes became the color of a vibrant sunset.
"Y/N?" He cupped her cheeks, wiping away the acidic tears with his palm, "I'm here, I'll always be here, here by your side."
"I can't do it!" She burst out, her eyes filling to the brim with tears.
"What?" His eyes rested on her trembling lips as his fingers kept caressing her cheeks, "what can't you do?"
She laid her head on his chest. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to tell him that he deserved better, someone not hated, someone who could give him kids, a family, a happy life. But instead, she just shook her head, swallowing hard, her words a breathless whisper, "I love you," she had to tell him she loved him as much as she could, held him close as much as she had time.
The author of the story had noticed what was going on in Y/N's heart. The author knew she was thinking about leaving, but her feet were failing her. Y/N even asked the author to write about her leaving him, begged her to characterize it as an act of bravery, as an act of freedom. And the author tried her best to turn it into something beautiful. But to be honest, it wasn't beautiful. It was just leaving. It was just walking away with a throat full of pebbles and trying not to choke.
Thus, instead of separation, the author decided to write about love. About her love for him. About the fact that she always knew that he wasn't hers to keep. And that's why after talking to Yaga, she kissed him an extra thousand times. She always gazed an extra few seconds before looking away. She listened extra carefully when he spoke because she knew she needed to replay his voice when she was alone.
She stayed up all those nights to watch him sleep instead of getting any rest herself. She tried to memorize every curve and mark on his body so that she would not forget when he left. She watched him dream and knew that she would never be able to see those moments again. Because sometimes in life, things are only built to break.
She ran her fingers through his hair and moved her hands back to his body to cherish every inch of him. And he knew well what it was about.
"I know Yaga was here," he pressed her head to his chest and started tracing circles on her skin, "did he say something?" His voice came out as a whisper as he left a kiss on her temple.
She was so tired. The words of Yaga still rang in her ears. "He just said the elders think that you should be with an eligible candidate, not a heartless murderer," her voice came out as emotionless mumbles. Her soul had left her body the second she had heard those statements.
What does Satoru Gojo do under difficult circumstances? The correct answer is that he jokes. Yes. That's his escape. That's what he did that day, too.
"He called you a heartless murderer?" He grabbed Y/N by the shoulders and pulled her away, raising his eyebrow in surprise, "but you're only a regular type of murderer; that's unforgiven!" He stared into her face, seeking a sign of a smile, and it didn't take him long to find it because Y/N would always smile at his stupid jokes.
She suddenly burst into a peal of absurd laughter. Eruptions of crazed, intermittent laughs. It was rippling up through her belly, and they were doubled over until she couldn't even breathe.
"Y/N? Y/N? Listen to me," he shook her shoulders, trying to bring back senses to her mind. He lowered his head, looking her right in the eyes, "they cannot invalidate my feelings. They don't get to do that. I won't allow it," he leaned his forehead to hers, "I don't care if I deserve someone better, because I want you," He took her hands, the hands that were stained with the blood, "because there is nothing better than you."
Her breath caught in her throat. The words were a promise, a promise she didn't know if anyone could keep.
"Satoru, your clan..." her sentence remained unfinished because he interrupted her, "fuck my clan!" His eyes and voice were defiant, "in spite of my clan I will love you, in spite of my clan I will choose you, you know why?" He asked with a firm tone, "because you're my clan, Y/N! And if we were to live a thousand lives, I would want to make you mine in each one!"
He knew what she was like, what she'd done. He wasn't a madman in love (maybe he was, who cares!), and yet he wanted her anyway. He had seen her. All of her. With her skin peeled back, her heart bare. She was inside out for him.
"I love you, Satoru, I love you so much," she muttered against his mouth, eyes closed.
"I need you to say it then," Satoru raised his hand, brushing the corner of her lips with his thumb.
"I'll say whatever you want," she had nothing to lose but him—her only wealth.
"Then say that you belong to me. I want you to tell me everything. I'm a selfish bastard, Y/N! I want you to tell me how much you love me and why. Fuck it!" His chest ached with pain. He was feeling her pain in his heart, or maybe she was the only one who could take the breath away from the strongest. "I want you at 2 am under me in my bed, and at 2 pm across from me on a lunch date! I want everything you are and everything you have to offer, as long as it's you. Because in the end it's only you!"
She felt his hands surrounding her body. But this wasn't enough for her. She needed him more. She had to save him for her future days. The days that she will yearn for a bit of touch from him, but a famine will devastate her. She must have scraped off that painful itch that had formed in the hollow of her being. "Satoru, kiss me," she implored, grasping his collar as her voice was about to cry with desperation.
His hand went down a bit, enough to touch her butt. While the other one pressed her chest to his, and she was about to ask again that he kissed her. He kissed her gently at first, soft skin gliding over softer skin before he pulled her lower lip between his, drawing it slightly. Then, as his embrace became more heated, his hand clasped around her neck, stroking up and down until he felt she relaxed.
His kiss was deliberate and unhurried as if he were speaking to her silently, saying with the brush of his lips on hers what he couldn't say in words. He left small kisses across her mouth, each saying she was precious, irreplaceable, wanted.
Y/N reached to cup the back of his neck, to tangle her fingers in the silky white strands of his hair, to feel his pulse hammering against her palms.
His grip on her was firm as he explored her mouth thoroughly with his. The movement of his tongue as he flicked it lightly across her lips sent delicious shudders through her whole body. Her bones melted, and her nerves seared. She wanted him closer so badly; it was like an ache, a painful hot ache that spread out from her stomach to speed her heart and knot her hand in his hair and set her skin to burn.
And as if he could read her mind, his self-control slipped, and his gentleness began to blossom into a more demanding urgency. Their kisses grew deeper and deeper as if they could breathe each other, consume each other, devour each other whole.
They were so drowned in exploration that they didn't even hear the sound of a door opening, and only the cough of the blond man brought them back to reality.
Y/N quickly pulled her lips back, and Satoru turned his head in surprise to face a Nanami holding the eyes of Yuji with one hand and Megumi with the other. Unfortunately, Kento Nanami was just a human being and had no more than two hands to cover the round eyes of Nobara, Maki, Panda, and Inumaki as well.
Satoru grinned and looked at Y/N over his shoulder; her cheeks were no different from the cherry blossom. She had her head down, and her hair was doing a great job of covering her shame.
It was the moment Satoru Gojo had been waiting for a long time; to take her out of the shadows and to greet the sun with her; to be able to hold her hand in front of everyone and finally take her to a proper date.
He knew Y/N wouldn't like what he was about to do, but this time he wouldn't let her decide. No more playing with her rules.
Satoru put his hand around Y/N's shoulders and pulled her towards him. She glared at him anxiously, only to meet that bastard's smirk. "Hey everyone, have you met my girlfriend, Y/N Kamo?"
Her mouth was open in shock because she believed that as long as you could keep anything secret, it would be safe. But he was the one who wanted to shout his love out loud because nobody had ever been able to steal what he had. But he was unaware that fate was no ordinary thief.
Satoru's hand slipped out of her shoulders, and his fingers interwoven with hers. He smiled and gently pressed her hand between his own, meaning: Trust me. Trust me; I will never let anyone harm us, trust me.
And she trusted him. No question asked.
And at that very moment, many things happened.
First: The students saw the whole thing, which meant that sooner or later, the news would spread everywhere.
Second: No one noticed, but a faint smile landed on Nanami's lips. He knew that no matter how strong his friend was, he couldn't resist what had been written on his forehead. Kismet.
Third: Satoru knew that the whole world would come for them, and he couldn't wait to watch them try.
Fourth: For a moment, Y/N believed that love could conquer all difficulties, surmount all obstacles, and affect what to any other power would be impossible.
They had yet to know that they were all wrong.
A/N: Aoyama Flower Market
A/2: Hiiiii X_X Sorry for not updating the story weekly; I struggle with some health issues.
A/N3: The next chapter will contain SMUT, a shameless one! Could you wait for it? :D