Year: 2019
Y/N lay on her side of the bed, quietly watching him. Unaware of her presence, he blinked, trying to pinpoint when she had entered the room. Suddenly, he noticed she was utterly motionless, a kind of stillness that was distinctly hers. The realization struck him, and he took a breath, fully aware of the impossibility of this moment.
Yet, despite his awareness, a delightful sensation of blooming flowers filled his stomach, their soft petals caressing every inch of his nervous system. It felt like he had been granted three wishes: to see, feel, and have her once more. It was the most peculiar phenomenon—an extraordinary, joyous impossibility delicately wrapped in tissue paper, tied with a bow, and safely tucked away in his heart.
Everything felt incredibly authentic, to the point where he could even sense the fragrance of lemons and the scent of the sea enveloping her.
Satoru nervously swallowed, slowly raising his hand. His eyes widened in surprise as his finger touched her face's smooth skin. She went still as he gently cupped her cheek, which felt as soft as velvet petals. His fingers then traced along the curve of her neck and explored the scars on her shoulders.
She didn't say a word, but her eyes remained on him.
As his gaze returned to her face, he was taken aback by the way she looked at him. Her eyes carried a weight that worried him, yet her expression remained tender, focused, and brimming with emotion that he found it difficult to look away, captivated by her presence.
She closed her eyes, and he couldn't help but observe even the simplest actions she took: adjusting her weight, her hair sliding across the pillow, and the subtle trembling of her lips. All six of his eyes followed every movement of her body. This moment with her felt incredibly strange, causing his chest to tighten and his heart to race. She had a way of making him long to remain trapped in this dream indefinitely.
Then, she came closer and closer and closer.
Reluctant to disturb the enchantment of the moment, he reached out silently and held her hand as if she were a lonely, fluffy cloud in the sky, destined to vanish with the northern winds. He brought her palm to his lips, planting a gentle kiss upon it, desperately hoping it would dispel the emptiness in her eyes. But alas, the stubborn void remained steadfast. He managed a melancholic smile as she pressed her cheek against his palm, and he delicately brushed strands of hair away from her face. Something stirred within him, a surge of warmth accompanying the movement of her head. Leaning closer, she gently pressed her forehead against his, her breath caressing his nose like a gentle breeze.
"Please stay," Satoru whispered, tightly closing his eyes.
Expecting her to leave him again, he was caught off guard when her lips brushed against his chin. In response, a raw cry escaped his throat, resonating with longing. His mouth parted, and the warmth of her sweetened throat flowed into him. At that moment, he was incapable of thought or action, consumed only by the exquisite experience of savoring her presence. Each breath she took, every gentle movement of her lips, felt like a miraculous gift after weeks of separation.
He drew her near and kissed her, kissing her with such intensity that time seemed to lose its grip. In that fleeting moment, he momentarily forgot the misery of his life without her.
The bliss was limitless, but she broke the kiss, and her leg brushed against his. Opening his eyes, he found her smiling—a small, secretive smile that conveyed so many unspoken sentiments, the kind that no one else could ever say to him.
Was it possible to hold onto her, to make her stay? He kissed her gently on the forehead, the curve of her nose, and the corner of her lips. Under his touch, she seemed to swell, to grow more vibrant.
"Satoru?" she spoke, breaking her silence for the first time.
"Yes?"
She shifted sideways, and he willingly made space for her by his side. She seamlessly filled the emptiness, nuzzling her face into his neck. It felt reminiscent of the old days, the days before she had vanished into oblivion. With closed eyes, he embraced the moment as if in prayer, and his heart sprang back to life.
Her hand let go of his beneath the sheets, only to settle on his waist and gently glide down his thigh. The touch nearly caused him to lose his composure, but then she planted a light kiss on his pure white hair. He gulped hard, suppressing the reminders of reality that threatened to flood his mind.
"I miss you," she uttered in a faint whisper he almost failed to catch.
"I'm here," he reassured, softly caressing her cheek. "Right here, Y/N."
But she shook her head, defying his attempt to draw her closer until she dissipated into thin air.
He blinked, his breath ragged and gasping as it moved in and out of his mouth in quick intervals. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breathing so loud it resembled the sound of someone who had been running for a long time. And then, the familiar white walls of the room released their hold on him. He made a silent vow to himself that he would love to forget how to wake up one day.
Drenched in sweat, Satoru sighed and leaned against the headboard, taking deep breaths. He needed a moment, so he tightly shut his eyes until her face carved itself in his mind. These dreams were his only opportunity to be with her. Although he willingly let her go, he searched for her in the following days, not to bring her back but to ensure her safety.
Yet, it felt like the ground had opened up and swallowed her whole. She had returned to being the ghost she once was as if she had never existed, as if the echoes of her laughter hadn't filled this room just a few months ago, as if his body didn't still carry her scent. He ran his hand over his eyes and rested it on his neck.
Honestly, he had been considering the idea that Y/N might be a product of his imagination. Perhaps it was because he couldn't fathom how someone with a personality like hers could survive in this harsh world. Moreover, he struggled to comprehend why someone like her would show any interest in a heartless, self-centered person like him.
Yet, through the bond they shared, he could feel her existence. She was tangible, alive, moving forward without him. Yeah, that's the thing. The most challenging aspect wasn't letting her go; it was coming to terms with the fact that she didn't wish to remain, and that realization caused even greater pain.
Satoru berated himself and pushed the covers away, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and burying his head in his hand. He had hours of work ahead of him, yet her face continued to intrude into his thoughts, and he realized that a small part of him didn't want to dismiss the thoughts of her. Some part of him found solace in the torment it brought.
She was destroying him, the strongest.
He covered his mouth with his hand, realizing he was losing his sanity. Shaking his head, he collapsed onto the bed, placed a hand over his forehead, and then dragged it down his face in frustration. If only his stupid brain hadn't betrayed him, he would never have abandoned her at the wedding. Because, since that day, every decision he made seemed to be a regrettable mistake.
He turned his head and looked at the sheets.
He turned his gaze towards the sheets. She slept here, he thought. She had shared his bed, waking up beside him. In this bed, she had smiled, dreamed, moaned, laughed, and cried—all next to him. But now, her warmth was a distant memory. She had been here, and he had allowed her to slip away.
He had lost her.
What could he do now?
She despised him.
She despised him, and the chance of ever seeing her again was uncertain. It was entirely his fault. When he had acted foolishly, he should have anticipated the consequences.
These dreams and memories might be all he had remaining of her.
His hand lingered over the sheets, attempting to conjure her presence beside him, even if only in his imagination, even if only for a fleeting moment within the confines of his mind.
The prospect of a negative outcome filled him with terror. What if he never had the chance to see her again? The thought weighed heavily on his mind, causing him to grip the sheets tightly, and in frustration, he forcefully slammed his fist against the bed.
It's funny how quickly he grew accustomed to her presence in this place. It brought him an odd sense of comfort, knowing they would share the same roof and sleep in the same bed.
Her presence in the school changed everything for him. The months she spent here marked the first time in years that he truly savored living in these dorms since his teenage days. He looked forward to her smiles, tantrums, and even absurd arguments.
Now, Satoru longed for her to be here, to shout at him. He would have congratulated her if she had ever slapped him across the face.
But she never did. She packed her anger and disappointment and left.
Oh, God! He wished he could sink into the ground. The proof of her presence was so vivid and real that it made it unbearable for him to remain in this place. He couldn't seek refuge in missions, as he was obligated to stay in the school for the investigation regarding Y/N's flee.
Higher-ups didn't know he was the one who planned her escape. Even if they knew, that wouldn't change anything in his end. He had no reprieve from the consequences of his actions.
After all, he was consumed by a profound sense of hopelessness.
The clock had ticked past five in the morning, and it felt like he hadn't slept in days. However, he could scarcely bear to shut his eyes. He couldn't bear the solitude with his thoughts or confront the vulnerabilities within himself. He felt broken, held together solely by obligation. He had unsuccessfully attempted to express the jumble of emotions clouding his mind, but to whom? Who would comprehend him? Who would believe that what he was experiencing surpassed a mere binding vow?
Kento Nanami and Shoko Ieiri? Not quite. Their relationship never quite clicked for them. They couldn't comprehend how someone like Satoru, with his diverse preferences in partners, could be an emotional match for anyone, especially someone like Y/N: a girl who ate, slept, and breathed emotion. They always believed that Y/N gave him too much credit and that she tolerated too much of his nonsense.
They were correct in their assessment, but her appearance or the sense of being desired didn't make him fall in love with her. It was the trust they shared and the comforting sensation of finding a home. He had never experienced it before, as he had always felt alone. When he was held in her embrace, he felt warmth for the first time. Y/N was his home.
Indeed, Satoru was engulfed in his misery, isolated and without companionship.
His loneliness was a vicious creature. It sneaked up on him silently, sitting by his side in the darkness, gently caressing his hair as he stared off. It wrapped around his very bones, constricting so tightly that he struggled to catch his breath. It planted falsehoods in his heart, lying beside him at night, draining the light from every corner. Loneliness became a constant companion without her, holding his hand only to pull him down when he tried to rise.
Even when he was prepared to let it go, break free, and start anew, loneliness remained an old acquaintance standing beside him in the mirror, challenging him to try and live without it. He couldn't find the words to resist himself, to battle against the inner voices screaming for her return—wanting her back, wanting her back, wanting her back, and knowing deep down it wasn't possible.
Loneliness was a bitter, wrenching companion.
"Is this what you felt all along, Y/N?" he whispered into the empty room. He tried to convince himself that it was merely a meaningless dream, but he was deceiving himself. The truth was, witnessing her sadness carved into his unconsciousness became too overwhelming, and the thought of her suffering inflicted unbearable agony upon him. Knowing that she had endured all these pains.
He had thrown her into this situation, causing her to be discarded and harmed. Guilt drowned him, immersing him in a world where he unexpectedly delved into feeling her pain so deeply.
It was killing him.
He stood up and began pacing back and forth in his bedroom until he mustered the courage to keep his shits together.
The room carried the fragrance of morning rain, saturated with traces of her presence. The air was dim and infused with an earthy scent. He inhaled deeply and approached the window, pressing his fingers against the chilly glass. His breath began to fog up. He closed his eyes, listening to the gentle patter of rain rushing in the wind. Right now, raindrops served as a reminder that clouds possessed a pulse, as did he.
When he was a child—of course, with no friend— he often pondered the nature of raindrops. He marveled at how they descended, stumbling over their feet, breaking their legs, and forsaking their parachutes as they trembled from the sky toward an uncertain fate. It seemed someone was emptying their pockets over the Earth, indifferent to where the contents would land. They didn't seem to mind that the raindrops would burst upon hitting the ground, or that they would shatter upon reaching the floor, or that people would resent the days when the drops dared to tap on their doors.
Now that he thought, he realized that Y/N was like a raindrop. Despite enduring hit after hit, bruise after bruise, tear after tear, she persevered and moved forward, facing her fears. Yet, when their paths intersected, he emptied himself of her presence and left her to evaporate, utterly alone.
How could he be such a monstrous person?
He pressed his forehead against the glass pane, feeling the familiar embrace of the cold against his skin. He couldn't continue living in constant pain every minute of the day, as it was unsustainable. On the other hand, if the pain ceased, she would be gone, and he couldn't bear that either.
He took a sharp breath to clear his mind, clenching and unclenching his fist, when his attention was drawn to the scar on his palm. It served as a poignant reminder. He was about to trace his fingers along its jagged edges when a knock sounded at the door.
*
Knock, knock, knock! The door swung open, revealing Satoru with a mischievous twinkle in his eye and a sly grin on his face. "Hey, Granny! Got any spare ice for your lovely neighbor?" he asked, leaning casually against the door frame and peering at her through his shades.
"No," Y/N replied curtly, her annoyance evident as she tried to close the door. But Satoru held it firmly, her surprised gaze bouncing between his hand and his oddly pleased expression. What kind of power play was this that the infamous Satoru Gojo had initiated? She kept her distance, ready with a hidden knife up her sleeve, just in case.
"Don't you want to know why I need the ice?" Satoru inquired, his gaze fixed on where her hand and knife were concealed behind the door.
"No," she replied tersely.
"It's for my Scotch!" Satoru exclaimed, throwing his arms up in mock excitement.
"You don't drink," she retorted, her grip on the door tightening, fully aware that this flimsy door wouldn't stand a chance if Satoru had any intentions.
"Awww," Satoru pouted, winking at her over his glasses. "You sure know a lot about me." His grin widened. "But did you know that my six eyes can see your little knife?" He pointed directly at the spot where she had hidden her blade.
She took a deep breath, lips pressed together tightly. "Good night!" she declared, slamming the door in his face with frustration and determination.
*
Knock, knock, knock! The door creaked open, revealing Satoru. Again. "Hello, my favorite coffin dodger! I'm in desperate need of bobby pins!"
With an exasperated sigh, she leaned her head against the door frame, rolling her eyes. "Do I even want to know why?"
Satoru's smile grew wider as if this was all part of his grand plan. He pointed at the stray hairs falling over his forehead. "Ever since you ripped off my blindfold, these stubborn hairs keep getting stuck in my night cream!" To emphasize the point, he raised an eyebrow and shook his head, demonstrating that his hair was not moving an inch.
Her eyes remained fixed on his forehead, surprise evident in her gaze. "You use facial creams?"
Satoru struggled to contain his laughter. Despite her reputation as a skilled murderer, her emotions were easy to read, which amused him greatly. "You don't?" He covered his mouth with his hand as if sharing scandalous news. "No wonder you look like grandmothers!"
Her eyes quickly snapped back to his face, her furrowed brows and deathly glares revealing her annoyance and anger. It must have been a mistake. How could someone like her, infamous for being a monster, have such a vulnerable side? Was she the same angel of death he had encountered years ago on his deathbed, or had he completely misjudged her all this time? Damn it, ever since she touched him, his instincts couldn't be trusted. There was an enigmatic pull towards her that he couldn't quite pinpoint.
Lost in his thoughts, he heard her sharp retort, "Go to hell, you asshole!" followed by the slamming of the door.
*
Knock, knock, knock. The door reluctantly opened, revealing a woman irritated by the late hour. "For God's sake, it's 3 in the morning—" Her eyes widened in disbelief at the absurd sight before her. "What the fuck?!"
Satoru had his t-shirt folded up to his stomach, using it like a kangaroo pouch to carry random stuff. What a clown! But despite her best efforts, her eyes couldn't resist sneaking glances at his abs and the fine white hairs under his navel. Is that his happy trail?
Y/N never had time for these kinds of games in her straightforward life. Maybe that's why she always fell into the white fox's trap, or perhaps she was just a bunny who enjoyed being hunted by this hunter who found any excuse to occasionally knock on her door and play with his prey. But no matter what, he always managed to surprise her.
"Hey! Pervert!" he exclaimed, waving his hand. "My face is up here!"
Her eyes slowly and somewhat reluctantly made their way back up, her blush becoming more pronounced with every passing second. And boy, if it were any other time, he would have grinned with victory at this triumph. But for now, he kept a neutral expression. "I need you to hide these sweets!"
She bit her lower lip as he casually took her hands and pulled her in closer, way too close for comfort. He emptied all the chocolates from his t-shirt into her hands, her fingers brushing against his chiseled body for a fleeting moment, sending a warmth surging through her that felt completely foreign. She lowered her head, desperately wishing her hair would cover her face and hide her embarrassment. What the fuck was wrong with her?
But of course, Satoru didn't stop there. He then took her shoulders and guided her back to her room, leaving her completely dazed. "If I knock on your door in an hour asking for sweets, don't open it for me. Got it?"
Was he going to show up again in an hour? This was too much to handle; she knew it. But her brain was short-circuiting, so she simply nodded, still keeping her head down.
"Don't trust me, even if I try to trick you," he warned, gently brushing her hair away from her face and locking his gaze with hers. "Okay, Y/N?"
She gulped, not daring to question her own sanity or the bizarre nature of this encounter. "Okay," she managed to utter.
Satoru grinned in satisfaction, stepped back, and closed the door with a smile, leaving her standing in the middle of the room, utterly confused, with a bunch of chocolates in her hands.
*
Knock, knock, knock. He anxiously watched as the door swung open, revealing the hallway's darkness. "Do you like Kento?" The words slipped out of his mouth quicker than he intended. Desperate for her answer, he gripped the door frame.
"What?" She stood before him, dressed in red, aware that she was merely a plaything to entertain his boredom, but he was someone she desired more than anything in her life.
"Are you in love with Kento? Just tell me. Yes or no, Y/N?"
The urgency in Satoru's voice and the concern in his eyes made her lift her head and meet his gaze. What kind of game was he playing this time? Regardless, she was too weary to care anymore. "No," she whispered, looking away.
His wishes came true for once, and he got what he had longed for. He promised himself he wouldn't mess it up this time. He vowed to do whatever it took to protect this treasure. He took a step into the room, and Y/N instinctively stepped back, her last attempt to escape the fate that would shadow her life.
Counting down from ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two...and one. Her back met the wall, and Satoru's lips found hers. There was no liberation in this love, so she closed her eyes and surrendered. His kiss deepened, and he promised her everything, everything she desired, as men in love often do. And despite herself, she trusted him, as women in love often do.
*
Knock, knock, knock. Satoru opened the door to find Y/N standing there, wearing a partially wet top and a sweatshirt that couldn't conceal her sweat. He wondered why she had come to his doorstep in such a rush. Despite the surprise, he didn't mind at all and actually enjoyed the sight of her. Observing her during her preparations, training, stretches, and even afterward became his new favorite meal of his six eyes.
With one hand on her side, she gestured towards the likely location of the training grounds. "I just saw Panda tossing Nobara around! Why aren't you supervising? What kind of sensei are you?"
Satoru casually shifted his gaze from her damp collarbones to her face. His half-opened eyes had a certain quality that his faint smile couldn't conceal. "What kind of sensei do you want me to be?" he asked, his voice husky as if he had just woken up. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame, shamelessly letting his eyes wander over her parted lips.
"I don't know!" She shrugged. "How about a responsible one?" she suggested, hoping he would take action and head to the training grounds upon hearing the news. However, he had no intention of doing so.
"Perhaps you could teach me," he proposed, his hand reaching for the hem of her waist, gently toying with the edge of her top. "During a private session," he added, his gaze locked onto hers.
"What the heck?" were the only words that came to her mind as he didn't wait for her response. He swiftly pulled her into the room and closed the door with a smooth kick. Her mind was filled with disbelief as Satoru stepped forward, cornering her. Their chests rose and fell with each deep breath as if they had just run for miles. There was a lingering desire in the air, an unspoken plea for vulnerability. Despite the years she had spent learning to defend herself, in that moment, she realized she wanted to be defenseless in front of him. There was an undeniable trust, a growing soft spot within her, certain that he would never harm her and she would be safe in his arms. He was the missing piece she had been searching for in her life.
She felt his warm delight as he called out her name. The tenderness in his voice returned, a tone he reserved for their private moments. He drew her closer, his hands enveloping her as if afraid she might vanish if he let go.
She softly whispered "Satoru" into the crook of his neck, and she could feel his hand sliding down her waist. He was her home, so she let him surround her.
He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. "You don't know what you do to me," he murmured, his voice gentle, smooth, and unhurried. She had never realized until now just how enticing his voice was.
His hand tenderly held hers as he leaned in, brushing his nose against the nape of her neck, causing her to stifle a moan. No one had ever touched her with such delicacy, treating her like a fragile cherry blossom. His lips lightly grazed her skin, and she couldn't help but whimper.
He smiled. He was the reason for her racing heartbeat. He was responsible for those tears of happiness she tried to hide. He was enough for her, just as he was, without needing any proof or change to keep her by his side. As his hands explored her body, feeling and memorizing every curve, he kissed the top of her shoulder blade, gently tracing over her scars.
She rested her hands on his chest, causing him to open his eyes. Gently, he lifted her chin slightly. "I'll be a good sensei," he whispered. "I'll be good to you," he murmured, stroking her cheek and gently kissing her forehead. "I'll be good to anyone you wish."
She stared into his eyes, which seemed to hold a vast heart like the oceans and skies. Rising on her toes, she kissed him with hunger, desperation, and a longing to explore and savor him. He tasted like cotton candy with a hint of vanilla in his scent. Within moments, Satoru responded with an intense kiss, his hands encircling her neck while she attempted to remove his oversized T-shirt with her fingers.
They moved with a sense of urgency, driven by their desires. Satoru firmly grasped her hips, his hands exploring her body. His arms enveloped her with strength while his lips remained gentle. Her head spun with longing. His lips found their way to her neck, savoring her essence, consuming her completely.
She grabbed the waistband of his pants, not realizing how much it would excite him. In response, he lifted her by the waist, pressing her against the wall. His hands held her firmly, supporting her backside, causing her to wrap her legs around him instinctively.
As she tightly gripped his hair, their lips met again, intensifying the connection. His hands slid under her top, and both of them were breathing heavily. The tension grew as his pants tightened around his arousal while she clung to his T-shirt, driven by desperation.
"I'm telling you, I saw Y/N heading to her room. Why isn't she responding?" Yuji's voice echoed.
"Maybe she's taking a shower. It's a normal thing to do after training, you know," Nobara replied, her tone filled with righteousness.
"Maybe Gojo sensei knows where she is!"
"Can't we just leave everyone in this dorm wing alone?" Megumi suggested, feeling trapped.
Satoru let out a heavy breath, closed his eyes, and loosened his hold, allowing Y/N's feet to touch the floor, yet he didn't release her completely. She gently held his face in her hands and softly kissed the tip of his nose. "They'll go away if we stay quiet," he whispered, brushing his cheek against her damp, sweaty hair.
"They won't, and you know it," she whispered, leaning against his chest. She could feel the rhythm of his heartbeats, as well as the bulge pressed against her belly, causing her to blush and hide her face in his embrace.
"How about tonight, after 10?" she proposed, running her fingers through his hair, futilely attempting to neaten the tousled strands.
He drew back, his eyes widening as he gazed at her. "Tonight, after 10," he whispered, a wide grin spreading. He lightly brushed his thumb against her lower lip, only to be surprised when she kissed his palm and smiled as if this was a usual occurrence between two people who shared physical attraction. But there was something more, wasn't there? The soft pink hue on her cheeks and the way she smiled stirred something within him. What was this feeling that enveloped him whenever she was near?
Rubbing the back of his head, he walked back and cleared his throat, observing Y/N hastily fixing her hair, trying to conceal any signs of mischief like a naughty child.
"It's moments like these that make me question my morals. Can't we all peacefully share Y/N?" he declared, opening the door to his room.
A gentle nudge on Satoru's arm and Y/N appeared before the door. "What do you all need?"
Nobara and Yuji immediately started discussing urgent matters with Y/N, seemingly oblivious to the time constraints. Meanwhile, Megumi noticed how their sensei looked at her with a broad, nostalgic smile he hadn't seen in years. Oh, boy.
*
Knock, knock, knock. The door opened instantly. Satoru had returned from a mission. "Sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to—"
Before he could finish his sentence, her arms tightly wrapped around his waist. She trembled with cold, her eyes red and wet from another nightmare. Without hesitation, he pulled her close, resting her head against his chest, disregarding the dirt on his uniform.
"It was just a bad dream, Y/N. Only a dream," he reassured her. Yet, her sobs persisted. Holding her hand gently, he pressed a kiss on it. "Look," he urged, encouraging her to open her tightly shut eyes. "There is no blood on your hand." He tenderly stroked her hair and kissed her temple.
She stared at her hand, almost disbelieving that the blood had vanished upon his arrival. Sniffling, she remained silent for a while.
"Are you alright, Y/N?" he asked with concern.
She raised her head from his chest and remained silent.
"What's wrong?" He gently wiped away her tears with his thumb. He was the strongest, yet something about this formidable woman brought out his weaknesses.
"Oh, nothing," she replied, a faint smile appearing on her lips as she lowered her head.
"What's amusing?" He grasped her chin and lifted it. Her eyes were still red, but the sadness seemed to have dissipated. Nevertheless, being with her made him feel complete, and for the first time in a long while, he experienced genuine happiness. Was he falling in love with her?
"It's just..." Her words snapped him back to reality. "...this is the first time someone has asked me that," she paused. "It caught me off guard." Balancing on her tiptoes, she hugged him, humming softly. "Yeah, I think I'll be okay. Thank you for asking," she whispered, closing her eyes.
"Y/N." His arms tightened around her, assuring her he would never let go. He would hold her like this indefinitely if it would mend her broken pieces. Because she was the missing piece he had longed for in his life: she and her pure heart.
*
Knock, knock, knock. Y/N rapped her knuckles against the wooden door. Knock, knock, knock. Silence greeted her. Trying again, she hit once more. Still no response. Her hand dropped to her side in the dimly lit hallway as Y/N leaned her forehead against the door. She had just arrived from Okinawa and Utahime's wedding, and despite her exhaustion, frustration, and the ache in her heart, she was determined to address the unspoken issue between them. She refused to accept that Satoru could be the person her eyes had seen that day. He couldn't be because what would that leave her to believe?
Knock, knock, knock. No answer.
It appeared that he was nowhere to be found.
*
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK. "Where the hell are you, Satoru?" Y/N's voice was raspy, and her arms and the side of her face bore bruises. She shouldn't have been out of bed.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as her fist continued pounding on the door while her other hand clutched her stomach. "We need you, Satoru. Where are you?" She turned and scanned her surroundings. Why had she hoped that Satoru would sense her pain and return? Collapsing onto the cold floor of the hallway, her back sliding against the door, silent tears stained her cheeks.
"Y/N? What brings you here?"
She raised her head from her knees and faced Shoko. She shrugged her shoulders. "I couldn't sleep." An obvious lie.
Shoko glanced at the door and then at her tear-streaked face, concern evident in her eyes. "Why don't you tell me exactly how you managed to defeat all those Gojo jerks?" she suggested, settling down beside her. Nights like these were better endured with a companion so the darkness wouldn't win over the dawn.
*
"I think he might be sleeping, or he's not in his room," Megumi's whisper came from behind the door.
Ignoring the explanation he had just heard, Yuji knocked on the door again. "He can't leave the school. Once he's cleared from the investigations, they'll assign him as Y/N's executioner again," Yuji commented without bothering to lower his voice. "And if he's sleeping, well, he's a teacher. How about being responsible for once?"
"What if he's also feeling sad? I mean, I know she was a part of your family, but I believe she was his family too," Megumi whispered, the words not concealed behind the door and reaching Satoru's ears.
"What?" Yuji exclaimed. "Are you saying he's miserable? Did someone inform you about something?"
Megumi began mumbling once more. "Didn't you want to witness him in pain? I thought that was the entire purpose of us being here."
Yuji let out a sigh. "That doesn't mean I want to see him messed up. I'm still angry at him, but I must talk to him!"
"You know Y/N didn't leave because of him, right?"
"I know," Yuji replied. He fell silent for a moment before speaking again. "But I haven't forgotten his significant role. If he hadn't broken her heart—"
"He did what he did to protect her. It wasn't healthy for her to be around him, Yuji."
"Fine," Yuji scoffed. "Stop defending your stepfather!"
"Ugh, Yuji. You need to—"
Megumi's sentence was abruptly cut off by the sudden swing of the door, revealing their sensei standing in the doorway with messy hair. The sight of their sensei caught them off guard, but it was Satoru who seemed particularly affected. He instinctively lowered his head, his hand reaching for his sunglasses in an attempt to hide his red-rimmed eyes behind the dark lenses. Although he tried to conceal it, Satoru couldn't shake off the feeling that Yuji had caught a glimpse of the dark circles beneath his eyes. This suspicion was confirmed by the noticeable softening of Yuji's previously furrowed expression as if he understood the silent struggles Satoru was going through.
Satoru abandoned the effort it took to punish himself. Maybe he deserved to have a companion in these hard days. Talking to a real human being might make things a little easier. He practiced using his voice, shaping his lips around the familiar words unfamiliar to his mouth.
Satoru, amidst his inner turmoil, finally reached a point of surrender. The weight of self-punishment became too heavy, and he realized he deserved to have someone by his side, especially during these challenging times. The notion of connecting with another person and engaging in a conversation started to stir within him as a glimmer of relief.
Pretending not to hear Yuji and Megumi's earlier talks, Satoru spoke, "How can I help you, kids?" However, his voice felt strange, unrecognizable even to himself. The usual playfulness and goofiness that accompanied his conversations with students were absent.
Megumi's gaze shifted between the two of them.
"I have a favor to ask of you," Yuji said, deliberately avoiding making direct eye contact with his sensei.
Satoru fully opened the door and stepped aside. "Then come on in," he invited Yuji, his tone welcoming. He then turned to Megumi with a grateful smile. Megumi's defense of him in front of Yuji held great significance. "And what about you, Megumi? Care to join us inside?"
The boy with black hair scratched the back of his neck. "No, thanks. I have to join Maki," he replied. "She's waiting for me at the training grounds," he added, glancing at Yuji one last time and nodding before turning away and walking off.
As Satoru gently closed the door behind him, his gaze fell upon Yuji, who was already seated at the table and waiting quietly. He understood that this discussion would be far from easy, as it required delving into painful truths and facing the consequences of his actions.
Satoru had to face the fact that, in a way, he was responsible for his brothers' deaths, too. It was a bitter pill to swallow, acknowledging his role in their tragic fate. Yet, amidst the confusion and lingering questions, he found himself grappling with the perplexing connection between Y/N and Yuji. The circumstances surrounding their relationship remained shrouded in uncertainty, leaving Satoru with a sense of unease.
Summoning a deep breath, Satoru released a heartfelt sigh. Bracing himself, he approached Yuji, the atmosphere between them charged with unspoken emotions. He pulled out another chair, sat down, and positioned himself before Yuji, prepared to navigate the difficult interaction ahead.
Yuji's gaze remained fixed on the table as he abruptly began speaking. "I need you to locate her and assist her in finding our brother before the higher-ups intervene."
Well, Yuji was straightforward so that Satoru could respond with the same honesty. "I can't," Satoru said, running his hand over his face and pausing it at his mouth.
"What do you mean you can't? You must! You always said you did everything for her well-being, and now you're saying you can't? Is it because of the assignment the higher-ups will give you? You're Satoru Gojo. You can do whatever you please! You never conform to the rules!"
"Yuji," Satoru called out, and finally, Yuji looked at him. The white-haired man's smile was tinged with bitterness. "There are things even I cannot do," he said, glancing at the hair tie on the table. It belonged to Y/N. He reached out and pulled it around his wrist. "Y/N is skilled at hiding. You won't find her unless she chooses to be found."
"Why did you allow her to leave?" Yuji's anger flared.
"Don't ask about things you already know the answer to," Satoru replied, leaning back in his chair. "Staying here would have cost her life. She's better off without me and the Jujutsu Society."
With a trembling voice, Yuji accused, "You destroyed her life." Satoru didn't need to look at the pink-haired boy's face to understand that tears were streaming down it, but he maintained his composure and remained silent, allowing Yuji to express whatever was weighing on his heart. "You weren't there when she needed you. You weren't there when your own family tried to harm her and her child. You weren't there when that powerful curse emerged during the Exchange Event. You only show up now to find an excuse to kill our brothers because that's who you are. I don't even know what I expected from a man who murdered his friend in the name of following orders."
Upon hearing the final sentence, Satoru jerked his head and met Yuji's piercing gaze. Every word Yuji spoke was undeniably true, and that truth cut deep. Satoru couldn't argue against it. The pain he felt was a deserved consequence. Yuji had every right to harbor such intense hatred toward him. After all, what kind of father fails to protect his daughter and her mother? What kind of man disappoints the love of his life and, as a supposed apology, ends the lives of her brothers?
Yet, just because something is true doesn't mean he was prepared to hear it.
He was unaware of the true magnificence of the world, but when Y/N entered his life, she shattered his perception. She revealed the hidden beauty in everything, and now that she was gone, all the beauty in the world seemed to vanish along with her. He had also lost her, which caused him pain, even though he knew he was the primary cause of it all.
The truth broke him.
His voice faltered. His back bowed. His knees weakened. His face crumbled.
He gripped the table's edge tightly to prevent himself from collapsing out of the chair.
"Did you love her?" Yuji asked, breaking the silence. His face was averted as he gazed at the rain through the window.
"I wanted to marry her."
"What?" Yuji turned his head, his eyes widening as he looked at his sensei.
"I have numerous enemies, and I knew they would never let my family be safe. However, while she was building sandcastles with a child in Okinawa, a moment of fear struck me. At that instant, I realized that I wanted it. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I wanted to create a future together. I wanted to grow old with her. I wanted to marry her."
"Did you get her a ring?"
"No."
"What? What do you mean, no?" Yuji paused. "Did you at least do something, like light a candle or make her dinner?"
"No."
"Buy her chocolates? Get down on one knee?"
"No."
"No? You didn't do any of those things? None of them?" His whispers escalated into whispered yells. "You're the absolute worst, you know? The worst. You don't deserve her."
Satoru sighed. "I thought that was already clear."
"Damn." Yuji slammed his hand down. "You two were engaged, and none of us had a clue?"
Satoru's gaze was fixed on the floor, his thumb caressing the hair tie. He appeared composed, but when he whispered, "No," the sadness in his voice cut through Yuji's heart like a knife.
"You never proposed to her, did you?"
Satoru glanced at Yuji's face and shook his head. "No, I never did."
"Good," Yuji replied, tightening his fists. "She didn't need another heartbreak. I know how much she desired a family."
Satoru nodded, unable to find the right words to say. The sound of raindrops tapping against the window filled the room.
After a while, Yuji broke the silence. "You won't kill her when you see her, right?"
"You think I don't love her, right? You think it was easy for me to watch her leave. You think it wasn't painful to see her run away from me? Well, maybe you never truly understood who I am," Satoru retorted. "Because if you did, none of these thoughts would even cross your mind. I understand that labeling me as the devil makes it easier for you to accept her absence, to move forward, to cope. But if you truly knew me, you would understand that since she left, my love for her hasn't wavered, not for a single moment. So, no. Not only will I not kill her, but I will also stand up against anyone who wishes to harm her."
Have you thought about glue?
No one bothers to ask about how the glue is doing, whether it's tired of bonding things, concerned about coming undone, or even wondering how it's managed to survive through the weeks.
Satoru was somewhat similar.
He was like glue. He did his utmost to hold things together and safeguard those he could, yet nobody stopped thinking how he was faring.
Now that Yuji was paying attention, he likely noticed the fatigue in Satoru's eyes, the burden weighing on his forehead, and the tension in his shoulders. Perhaps it was time for Yuji to contemplate what Satoru was experiencing, what he wasn't revealing. Because, just maybe, throughout all these days, nobody had asked about how he was holding up. Because nobody ever anticipated the strongest person to be anything but fine.
Yuji gently pulled on Satoru's shoulder. "Megumi was right. You're not okay, are you?" Yuji whispered.
Satoru's eyes softened instantly, displaying weariness and faint amusement. It took him a moment to realize he hadn't answered the question. Only when he looked away did he eventually nod and say, "I'm okay."
"Are you sure?"
"It's okay, Yuji. I'm not feeling sad. I should have expected this from the start. It seems that anything I don't want to lose always ends up slipping away. That's just how things have always been for me. The moment I obtain something worth wanting, it becomes lost."
Yuji started playing with his fingers. "I'm still angry, but I understand you made her happy like no one else ever did. So, I want to believe that you'll find a way to be together in the end. I know a bit about her binding vow to you, but deep down, I don't think it all happened solely because of that. Hence, get a ring and be prepared for the next time you see her," Yuji said, offering a smile for the first time in months.
Satoru's eyes briefly showed surprise before he averted his gaze, running a hand along his neck to soothe the tense muscle. After a moment, he shifted his focus to the window. "The weather sucks," he remarked.
Yuji understood it as a code for "Thank you."
"Yeah," Yuji replied. "Does it always rain on your birthdays, Sensei?"
A/N: I miss you all. If you want to read my works, please follow me on ao3 or Tumblr. My handle is "ShinTin".