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Our Spring - Satoru Gojo

#contents: gojo adores, loves, hates, and misses you at the same time in every single spring he experiences. satoru gojo x reader. fluff, eventual angst. reader is a sorcerer. inspired by this song. not proofread.

#a/n: so gojo wears a blindfold to avoid fatigue, right? well, my headcanon is that he never wears them when he’s with you because he’s just focusing on you. but instead of writing a fluff, i decided to add some angst, so i hope you’ll enjoy this ^^

2005

satoru gojo has unmatchable eyes.

being a sorcerer, student, teacher, human, and anything alike. every eyes you’ve seen and you’ll see in the future are nothing compared to his. they’re charasteristically charming, like an ocean in one’s soul.

by the time he takes off his glasses, he easily swoons the women with his fine, white lashes and eyes that are hard to be described.

the moment he’ll actually be comfortable in taking them off is when he stands within the 8-feet radius of your presence. all he knows that with your existence in front of the blue shades of his pupils, the world seems to be even more vibrant than before.

it was 13 minutes — that’s how long he stared at the girl who’s sitting on a bench under a blooming tree. her hair looked certainly silky and her eyes, oh how much he loves them.

fortunately, you couldn’t catch him gazing at you with your favorite book occupying your fingers, strands of hair slightly covering your face. he clicked his tongue quietly, putting his hands in his pockets as you tucked the book back into your bag.

your lips, the curves you made with it when you smile. your dimples, the way they complemented your cheeks made him want to you to greet him like that every day.

“is there something i can help you with?” your angelic voice, a giggle following your question had him feeling his own heartbeat.

he’s supposed to be walking through the tokyo mountains and forests with his school bag hanging from his shoulder, going to school to start the new school year, sitting in class and listening to the teacher and having new friends and such.

but somehow, you made him felt like a string was holding him from walking away, forcing him to try to have at least your name.

“i… am satoru gojo.” he cursed to himself under his breath for being too stiff about that.

instead, you answered with a positive sigh as you scooted over the bench closer to him. gradually, he felt how the awkward situation melts as if he’s put in a warm embrace of your behavior somehow.

“which high school are you going to, satoru gojo?”

“wait, you know i’m…?” he asks, eyes slightly widening.

tilting your head, you swiftly snapped your fingers from a few seconds of thinking. “i suppose one can just feel it whether someone’s in high school or not.”

he nods in agreement, slightly pushing his sunglasses as he sat with his one leg over the other, leaning back on the bench. you can’t help but smile at how he looks straight at your pupils.

“well, i go to a tokyo metropolitan school. name’s not that important anyways.”

gojo’s the smart guy when it comes to hiding his identity as a jujutsu student in society. you couldn’t tell whether he’s actually lying or not. and he swore your gakuran-styled uniform was his school’s. after all, he knows no school's female uniform is like that.

slowly, you stood up from your seat, fixing your skirt as you took your school bag and hook it into your hands, the breeze blowing the petals and your hair. the way you pulled stramds of your hair behind your ear, your lips letting out a sweet chuckle as the temperature turned quite humid to his suprise.

“hey, what’s the hurry?”

“i’m not in a hurry, silly.”

he hummed in thought. “seemed like you were though.”

you gaze into his interesting complexion, his fragrant white hair and beautiful lashes drawing your pure attention. leaning closer to his face, you take a quite the closer look into his face. silent seconds passed and both of you weren’t complaining about the tension.

you scoffed lightly. “what if i told you about my guess of your school and having it right, hm?”

“i’d love to see you try,” he answers, returning your act by slightly shrinking the gap between both lips before you pull your head from the situation, turning around from his figure.

walking further from the bench, you stand under the blooming tree, quietly admiring its falling petals that lands on your hair. head slightly turning back to his eyes, you called out.

“then let’s go. don’t want to be late, right?”

the brisk taps of his shoes on the branches and leaves, his slim fingers reached for your shoulder, but close to pulling you into his neck, they hesitated, swifly settling itself back to his pockets.

flowers were truly the lovely sight, and so were you. eventually, he did get your name after all.

oh how he adores spring with you.

2006

satoru gojo has given his heart.

first, however, it would be very inappropriate if we don’t start this with his obnoxious, irrensponsible personality. mission he would show off his limitless techniques, easily decapitating curses with a single flick from his fingers.

of course, geto would constantly help you handling his childish acts, though he stubbornly refutes it. shoko, on the other hand, was always wondering how a guy like him managed to pull a girl like you.

despite his dislikeable nature, satoru was surely the loving boyfriend. in fact, he loved loving you. he pulled you into his warm hugs from behind, squeezing your small waist; he put in beautiful flowers into your ears albeit how unnecessary; he whispered affectionate words, always reassuring you from your personal struggles; he’s attentive of your health, ceaselessly asking of how your runny nose is doing.

satoru and you were far from being similar and will never be. he was the strongest, while you were just you. he loved being in the spotlight, you loved being in the shadows. he was overconfident, you were too timid.

but the first time he thought about you was nothing but kindness.

it was the month of spring, the month trees grow they’re petals and fruits back, the month of traditional custom of enjoying the transient beauty of flowers. spring was a sign of you.

before you even realized it, you’ve had a a date or two with him; you’ve had kisses more than you imagined; you’ve had hours having him leaning his head on your lap. and ultimately, you wanted to be by his side for as long as possible.

in turn, he never wears his glasses with you, because you’re the only one he focuses at, the one he thinks about.

the day you both intertwined each other’s hands tender, closing the small gap between shoulders as foot steps into the garden, greeted by the tree that’s grown its flowers again over the year.

standing below the branches, you hand over the black box decorated in white accessories you had been holding for quite a time to him, his face beaming hope and curiosity you couldn’t bare to not look at for a few seconds.

“it’s… a scarf?”

you softly chuckled. “of course.”

“looks handmade, huh?” he asked, taking the finely knitted scarf into his hands, caressing its surface with his thumb.

“yeah, all made by these fingers,” you answered, standing closer to his side as one of his hands reached for your wasit and pulled you closer, slipping under your shirt and caressing your skin endearingly.

he leaned into your ear, kissing it gently.

“my girlfriend’s cute and she’s mine… oh gosh…” he whispered like someone grinning because of an achievement. well, his friends did wonder about it more than him.

putting strands of your hair behind the ear, he pulls a petal from it, looking at it like porcelain. “you’re spring itself, love. the winter goes away because my goodness, you are so hot.”

you whacked his head albeit the fact that he means it more than you.

“then wouldn’t that make me summer, hm?”

he chuckled. “you’re colorful. summer doesn’t have that, it doesn’t have the sakura flowers that falls into people’s hair,” he asserted, putting his face into your shoulder, hugging your hips, “and i’m lucky that petal fell into mine.”

the look on his face — you could see it every day and you wouldn’t ever complain. the way he gazed at your face with those blue eyes; the way he held your hips gentle but tight as if he never wants to let you go away; the way he puts you close into his chest it makes you warm and cozy like a blanket.

satoru is a dramatic man, and he will always be.

but with you, he’s more of a gentleman than ever. with you, he could hear your rants more than his and never be bored of it,

oh how he loves spring with you.

2010

satoru gojo has everything since he was born.

the first clan member to be born with the six eyes and the limitless technique, no wonder he’s the strongest sorcerer ever known. no one could ever be on par with him, let alone the girl he loves.

the strongest fell with the weakest.

you, the girl he fell for, were nothing. your small of cursed energy, the moments you needed other people, the moments you almost died if satoru had not saved you.

if someone else beside your friends knew you were dating with him, who knows how bad would they say, how incomparable you were with him.

yet that was the last thing he’d ever think about, or possibly not even existing in his list. to satoru, you were the brightest page of his life that he would want to read over and over again. you melted at his daily attempts to woo you and make you his, and like reading a slow burn romance novel, it succeeded.

he would do anything to make this chapter last.

the star plasma vessel, riko amanai, the target of his mission, was when he failed miserably. she died because of the sorcerer killer got in the way and it made him feel more guilty. he almost died to someone who didn’t even have cursed energy.

his friend — no, best friend — suguru, left him when he’s finally on the top. the way he perceives things eventually averted, and his friend was considered the worst of all curse users.

the world decided to humble him, and it hit him worse than any sword that could pierce his skin. he was empty, awfully numb for weeks. for the first time, he felt responsible for being the strongest, responsible for the people that left.

and at his lowest self, you were there, holding him tights in your arms, whispering consoling words into his mind as he desperately buries his face into you, sobbing into his endless situation and wanting you to sleep in his dorm.

“please… stay with me. don’t leave me alone, ever,” he pleaded, his fingers grasping your clothes firm. the way his voice stammered from his tears that it made him hoarse. your heart hurted. running your fingers through his warm neck and white hair, you whispered, “i won’t, never, satoru.”

you were one to rarely make promises, but once you make one, you kept it for life. and it was true.

there was no infinity between you both. there was no line that could separate. to have you always by his side, holding hands and writing page after page. beautiful indeed.

perhaps satoru had forgotten that you too needed him. the days he got too attached to you was when you’re fine string of keeping your promises tighten, sometimes on the verge of snapping.

sometimes, you’d pray for him to notice your needs that you won’t always be with him every time. but that shouldn’t happen, right? after all, you were his only hope, the one he’d fight the world for.

so the world decided to humble him once again.

the curse was avoidable. in fact, it was something he could easily get rid off with just a small portion of his energy, but his arrogance was ahead of him. the cost was you, the person he swore to protect with his life.

you were dying, blood bleeding from your mouth, trickling down your chin as your stomach was letting out blood faster. your hands were covered with the red liquid, your life being at death’s door.

he held you tight like how you did. the tears in his eyes were nothing compared to the pain you experienced because of his negligence. the way you were trying to catch your breath was too torturous for him.

he was pleading for you to not close your eyes.

you leaned into his arms, beautiful eyes shedding tears. you were afraid, trembling of pain. but worse, you were about to leave him, that you’d break your promise. the promise when he was struggling with the deaths of his friends. and that time, he had to see you dying in his arms.

your bloody hand reached for his cheek. swiftly, he lifted your fragile hand and puts it close to his cheek, your blood staining his face. but that didn’t matter anymore. he’d gladly have it if it’s yours.

in the moments, on the brink of death, you murmured, “satoru..”

lips stretching into a smile, it hurted him to see you still managing to think about him. to see you mumbling his name, not anything but just his name. he didn’t deserve it, not ever.

and within your last breath, you murmured his name again, before it finally escapes your lips. your eyes, oh how much he would sacrifice to see it blink again. and even as he held your lifeless body close, your face was still lovely as always. he stroked your cheek dearly, wanting to feel your warmth again.

touching your forehead with his own, his tears feel down your cheeks as your smile lasted. he couldn’t feel anything, he couldn’t even feel his own fingers. he would scream, pleading the world to give his love back but that would be hypocritical because the cause of your death in the first place was because of him.

he hated the way your blood flowed, the way your tears shed, the way your eyes were full of fear, the way your fingers were trembling, the way you were dying in his arms.

but he hated himself more for failing.

you never gave up on him, you never gave up on being by his side, yet he failed to cherish that blessing.

it was the night of the first day in spring of 2010.

oh how he hates spring with you.

2018

satoru gojo has become a teacher.

it’s strange, because when he took riko under his wing for a few days, he was complaining like crazy, saying that he wouldn’t want to be taking care of a brat anymore.

look at him now. taking care of a whole school, watching over all of the school’s students as they spend their adolesence smiling, just like the way you were smiling at him.

“sensei! didn’t you say you wanted to join us to shibuya?”

yuji calls him from a distance when he stands looking at the sky, as if he’sreaming of something. his eyes come back to reality, realizing his students have been calling him for a while.

nobara raises an eyebrow of suspicion while megumi sighs, seemingly knowing what kinds of trance he was in.

“ah… you three can go first. i have something to do.”

“that was urgent,” yuji points out.

“a lot of things are very urgent for the strongest, y’know?” gojo gives him the cheeky grin.

as yuji and nobara walk away, megumi looks at him with remorse, gojo replying with a weak smile.

“today’s the day, right?”

he laughs it off. “apparently,” he says, pausing for a while. “i just know she would’ve been happy to see you like this, having friends and stuff.”

megumi nods before walking away as well, catching up to both of them. watching them getting further from the train station, he looks up to the sky again before walking the opposite way, putting on his blindfold again.

the stone had your name carved on it, your beautiful name. oh how much he regrets every minute seeing your grave, yet he’ll feel that even worse if he doesn’t visit.

if you were alive for another minute, he swears he will tell you how lucky he is to have you, how happy he is seeing you hugging him close, how glad he is to know you love him as much as he does.

and as the pink petals fall once again, he kisses the scarf you gave him 12 years ago when you both were just cheerful students.

slowly, he lifts his blindfold.

tears escape his blue eyes.

oh how he misses spring with you.

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