MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER TEN
MY BEST FRIEND
⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader
series masterlist
Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.
Words count: ~12k
⊲ previous
You'd been in the hot water so long that all the skin on your fingers had shriveled to look like old one, and even afterward you still felt haunted by that cold - your body shuddered every now and then.
Even though you'd asked Frank for a bunch of hygiene supplies, you'd only used shampoo and body wash because when you looked at your body and saw a bunch of small sores, you involuntarily swallowed, putting the scrub jar away.
Refusing to look at yourself in the mirror, you quickly pulled on clean clothes and grumbled grudgingly - you wanted something more substantial than a plain T-shirt. You opened the door ajar. "Frank," you shouted into the emptiness of the big house. "Where's your sweater?"
The rattle of tableware could be heard from downstairs. "What sweater?" he echoed your shout.
"Ya know, the white one that still survived the Paleozoic," your head was already fully out from behind the door, and you froze waiting for an answer.
An imposing figure appeared on the stairs. "Be quiet," the man hushed you. "Ya'll wake the kids."
"I'm sorry," you whispered in a panic. "So where am I supposed to find a sweater?"
"It's got more holes in it than threads," Frank said clearly angered by your choice of clothing.
You shrugged naively. "It's warm, though."
"I'll look for it," he patted you on the head. The hand was so heavy that you almost hit the floor. "Ya go on downstairs. I made some food."
Your stomach didn't rumble at the mention of food. Instead, it felt like a sticky, thick mass in your chest that you wanted to spit out. "Okay," you said swallowing hard.
When you went down to the kitchen, something delicious was waiting for you - a plate of creamy pasta and chicken, and a bowl of fresh vegetables next to it. As you sat down in front of the food, you felt incredibly stuffy. You put the blame for the overheated air on the stove, which still hadn't cooled down.
All you did was wrap spaghetti around your fork and unroll it, and if you were younger, you would have gotten a thousand reprimands for playing with meal. For the first time in your life, you could barely eat.
After the void, it was like this. Even in the same silence, there was room for background noise - all the ringing, beeping, rustling. You wanted to tell everyone what you'd found or to lock yourself in your room and never come out - at least not until the thoughts in your head was quieter.
You threw your fork into the plate disappointedly, and it clattered with such a clang that you involuntarily squeezed your eyes shut. The insistent rumbling sound was impossible to push away, and it only tightened the nauseous knot in your throat more. "... here?" someone's voice, like spokes, began to unravel the tangle of ringing thoughts. You jumped up before someone's hand was on your shoulder.
Dany stood in front of you - all skinny and frightened. "Ya here?" she asked quietly, barely moving her lips. Her glistening gaze darted around haphazardly, scrutinizing your face as if trying to search for the truth. "It's really ya, isn't it?"
"Hey, bun," you said smiling involuntarily, and with all your remaining strength, you pulled the girl against you. Her gaunt figure responded easily to your actions - she collapsed helplessly in your embrace. "It's me."
Under her weight, your legs began to give way and shake. Holding Danielle by the waist, you pulled her to a chair and sat down beside her. She sat glaring at the table, but you noticed that she occasionally glanced at your plate. "Ya hungry?"
Danielle nodded uncertainly. "Just a little."
You rose from your seat. "Then wait a minute...," you were cut off at half a word by the squeak of a plate against the countertop. You stared in utter amazement at Dany who was already shoving a second forkful of pasta into her mouth. "Have ya not been fed here at all?" you blurted out dumbfounded, looking at her sudden appetite. "Uh, no, wait a minute...," you scratched your forehead thoughtfully, putting the mosaic together in your head. "What are ya even doing here?"
"Couldn't be in that house anymore," Danielle's voice was already weak, but her mouthful of food made it almost impossible to make out the words at all.
"Something wrong?" you alarmed.
You don't think you've ever seen that shade of red on her face before, though you've seen her embarrassed or flustered more than once. "Are ya kidding me?" she snapped angrily, throwing her fork on the table - the force she exerted caused it to fly off into the far corner of the kitchen. "Ya just disappeared!"
"Dany, but I'm back..." you started softly and reached out to her trying to wrap your arms around her shoulders.
Danielle straightened up sharply and pulled away avoiding your touch. "This isn't about ya right now!" she shouted. "I couldn't even breathe properly in that house, I-I broke up with Megumi because of it, I thought...," she sobbed and went silent for a second trying to quiet the growing pain in her throat. "I thought this would happen to me at some point too, I'd just disappear even though someone would wait for me," the girl mechanically began to shake her head from side to side as if denying everything that could happen to her.
You were taken aback by this outburst of emotion, and you blinked your eyes in confusion and tried to touch her again. "It's okay," you said quietly, wiping away a tear that had appeared on Dany's cheek. "Maybe it wasn't like that yesterday, but it's fine now. What did ya...," you fell silent for a second, rubbing your temple as if that might take away the approaching headache. "Ahem, what did ya say about Megumi? Did ya two really break up?"
"I didn't want the same fate for him," Danielle mumbled taking your hand away from her face - this time her movement was neither angry nor wary. Quite the opposite, she squeezed your palm in hers. "So... It'll be easier for both if us."
"Dany, if ya just don't like him anymore, that's one thing," you said smirking slightly.
"It's not like that!" she blurted out indignantly, and if her eagerness had been a fraction stronger, there was a chance your palm in her hand would have crunched. "I already explained that!"
"I don't doubt ya had noble goals in mind," you said nodding meaningfully. "But don't ya think it should be up to the two of ya to decide?" exhaling noisily through her nose, Dany frowned. "It's not like I even asked about it, though," you pointed out reasonably. "He agreed to break up with ya?"
Danielle faltered. "I, uh... I just confronted him with the accomplished fact."
"So mature of ya," you patted her hand condescendingly while smiling broadly - and even though Dany couldn't see it, she could clearly sense it in your voice.
"Everything's a joke to ya, isn't it?" she hissed, jumping up from her seat. "Though what was I even counting on?" she asked, grinning bitterly. "I doubt ya'll ever understand me. Ya and the topic of relationships are... well, ya know. Incompatible," she waved her hand disappointedly leaving your dialog behind and headed for the second floor.
You would have called out to her if it hadn't been for a impudent misunderstanding between you two. What upset her so much? What did you say wrong?
In this blind journey, the feelings of one person never reached the feelings of the other. All the words got lost and dissolved - you were silent. You were silent and watched her disappear into the darkness of the second floor.
"Ahem," Frank coughed pointedly, coming down the stairs just after Danielle left. "Here ya go," he said, holding out his old sweater to you.
You frantically pulled the sweater over you, catching your breath. Once your head was through the collar, you exhaled disappointedly. "Ya heard everything, didn't ya?"
"Not on purpose," Frank replied idly, picking up his fork from the floor. "Young lady, is this how I taught ya to act around food?" he said, turning his attention to the plate in which the disheveled spaghetti rested.
"I'm sorry," you pressed your lips together guiltily. "I didn't feel like I can eat anything, and Dany... Well, she just didn't finish it."
"Ya need to go to the doc. We’re leaving," Frank sternly retorted.
"Frank, it's late and-"
"I said we’re leaving!" he bellowed, slamming his fist down on the table - the tabletop was clearly not ready for such a thing. There was a pitiful cracking sound. You bit your tongue and your eyes widened for a moment - if you'd ever seen Frank like that, it was so long ago that you couldn't even remember.
"Frank, I'm fine," you said, choosing your words carefully. "I'll go see him tomorrow morning, 'kay?"
"Why in the morning?" he said warily, pushing back a chair and gesturing for you to sit down - the sweep of his hand somehow looked like an invitation to an execution.
After hesitating, you walked over and sat down - as instructed. "There's something I need to do. I don't think I can eat or even just sit still until I do."
"What exactly?"
"I really need to see the higher-ups," trepidation turned your voice into a squeak and you coughed, embarrassed at what you heard.
"Why?" Frank tapped his fingers harshly on the damaged tabletop.
You faltered, staring at your lap. "I want to see if there's someone else among them," you said so quietly that Frank could only understand your words when he read your lips.
"What?" he interrogated incredulously. "Ya really think there could have been some trash among them?"
"Yeah, I think so," you replied firmly. "Though no, I'm not sure. Not all the way through. It's just that I think so. God," you buried your face tiredly in the palm of your hand. "That's exactly why I want to check."
Frank was dumbfounded, for nothing like this had ever happened before in his memory, nor in the stories of his father and grandfather. "No, ya can't do that," he objected. "Think about it," noticing your skeptical expression, Frank switched to a conspiratorial whisper. "Ya can't just barge in and test them like that. What if the demon isn't among them? What if one of them die in the process? There'll be tons of witnesses that ya did it, and ya have to realize what'll happen. And even if ya do find a demon among them, what then? At best, ya'll have to fight it, and look at ya!" he said indignantly, grabbing your skinny hand. "And if ya're unlucky, ya'll just scare the bugger away. No, ya can't do that," he shook his head. "We have to be smarter, more cunning. Fish them out one at a time and check them out. If one doesn't make it and still dies, there'll be no witnesses. I'll give ya an alibi. Ya were at my place tending the roses," he squeezed your palm gently. "Yeah, tending roses," the man nodded confidently. "To check on everyone, ya need to recover, though, so we're going to the dock. No arguments."
"I guess ya're right," you mumbled guiltily, then bit the inside of your cheeks for a moment - all out of frustration. "I'm just... I'm just in a hurry."
Frank ruffled your hair, smiling cordially. "What did I teach ya? It's just like eating, isn't it? If ya hurry, ya'll get indigestion," he said, standing up and putting the plate of pasta in the sink. "Besides...," he began tautly after a brief pause; the sound of the plate clattering against metal sent shivers down your spine. Since when did that sound become so creepy? "Food is supposed to be enjoyed."
You glimpsed the man, his face shrouded in shadows for a moment. "Frank," you began mundanely. "Ya said we goingto the doc? Ya going with me?
The shadows immediately dispersed as if by obedience to a lighted lantern. "Sure!" he exclaimed resolutely. "I must see to it myself."
"It's not like I'm a kindergartener," you whined.
Frank hummed skeptically and protractedly. "Maybe not, but to me ya're still a little pain in the ass."
You continued to whine. "I'll get there myself!"
"No bickering," Frank ordered confidently but gently, raising his palm in the air - you were immediately silenced.
"Fine," you frowned, pouting your lips. "But can we still go in the morning? I'm too tired right now," you muttered, getting up from your chair, but only to get to the couch and flop down on it. "Can't we at least watch something?" you hissed angrily, waving your hand toward the TV. "Some stupid show, movie or series, whatever. I just really miss TV."
Frank sat down next to you. "Certainly we can," he said, turning on the TV.
Pictures appeared on the screen. Bright juicy images that made your eyes water, but you were glad of that because the color purple hadn't given you anything but a migraine in a long time. Frank switched channels until you saw something that looked interesting and watchable.
You settled down and stretched out on the couch to your full height, throwing your legs unceremoniously over Frank's lap. All your attention was on what was happening on the screen, so you didn't even notice how Frank smiled at first, and then, noticing the calluses and sores on your feet, swallowed worriedly. "Aren't ya expecting anyone?" you suddenly blurted out your question, shifting your gaze to the door.
Frank, taken aback, shook his head. "No," he drawled hesitantly. "I'm not expecting anyone. What's the matter?"
You glared at the door for a few more moments. "No, nothing," you muttered quietly, returning your attention to the television. "How long ago did Dany and Megumi break up?" you asked, gently poking the man's stomach with your foot.
He immediately exhaled sharply and irritably as if he'd been waiting for you to ask that question. "As soon as she moved here!" he spat out, clapping his hands. "This boy comes here almost every week to talk to her, and she doesn't even leave the room. She can't even tell me what's troubling her! Her wording is so vague... I just want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she comes to her senses!" he slapped your leg with heat, and you hissed involuntarily. "Sorry!"
"It's okay," you said, though it felt like an electric shock was still shooting through your leg. "I'll try to talk to her, though ya heard it yourself... Maybe Kyle should be the one to ask. He's good at, well, uh, how to put it..."
"Support people?" finished the man for you.
"Yeah," you nodded. "Sorta."
"Yeah, he came by already, tried to," he waved his hand irritably. "It's like she can't hear anyone."
"We have to get her out of this state," you declared, fidgeting restlessly. "I don't want her to do anything stupid."
Frank squinted suspiciously, looking at you. "What kinda stupid thing is that?" you looked at him meaningfully, pursing your lips. "No," he said with a huff. "She wouldn't dare."
"She's a teenager," you remarked, sitting up and tucking your legs under you. "Teenagers have a rough time of it. First and most often unrequited love, adjustment, successful or not-so-successful socialization, misunderstanding from parents who devalue their problems-"
"Ya'll have to excuse me, but most of the time teenagers don't have real problems," Frank said, but noticing your nostrils starting to flare, added: "I said most of the time. Not always."
"Everyone judges the depth of a puddle based on their own height," you subdued the man with a look. "And they haven't grown up yet. They may brush it off or laugh about it in a dozen years, but right now it's a real problem for them," you burrowed deeper into the collar of your sweater as if hiding. "And it's all just about ordinary life. Now imagine what life is like for Dany in our world."
"So maybe we should let her go?" suggested Frank quietly.
"That's for her to decide. And anyway, she has no mother or father left, where are we gonna let her go?" you objected. "I'll still try to talk to her again after a while. No, I'll at least try to get her out of the room first, and then I'll see how it goes."
Frank glanced over his shoulder, straight for the stairs. Nothing was heard - no fuss, no footsteps. "All right," he said. "But after what ya said, it makes me wanna take the door off its hinges in her room now."
"Ya're supposed to be improving her condition, not making it worse," you muttered unhappily.
Frank, to signify his defenselessness, threw up his hands. "I said what I wanted to do, not that I was really gonna do it."
Without answering anything, you were running through your head thinking that you wouldn't have taken the door off its hinges. You would have just installed cameras. At Frank's questioning look, you slapped yourself on the forehead for allowing such an idea. Frank hummed longingly as if your entire chain of reasoning was right there in plain sight and he'd followed it. "We're not gonna do anything like that!" you protested, jumping up on the spot.
"Honey, ya okay?" the man asked worriedly, grabbing your shoulder and bringing you back to your original position.
"Yeah, yeah," you nonchalantly waved it off, leaning back on the back of the couch. "Look, but guys... I mean, Kyle, Rachel, and Issu, they... they went on without me, right?"
"Sure," Frank confirmed, squeezing your shoulder. "They're responsible persons," you felt light. No doubt you'd felt it before, whether it was your lean body or your home surroundings, but this was a different feeling. Not lightness. Relief. Frank noticed the wrinkles in your forehead finally relax. "What is it?"
"Frank, I found a settlement."
The man, startled by what he heard, gave an amazed gasp. You felt a large hand scoop you up, and all you had time to do before you were pinned to his chest was squeak. "Oh," Frank chuckled nervously. "The darkest hour is nearest the dawn, yeah?"
Frank stroked your hair and seemed to be saying how good you were - the lack of oxygen in his arms made you dizzy, and you couldn't tell if he was saying it or if you were just imagining it. It felt good, though. "Uh-huh," you muffled out.
When the man finally loosened his grip a little, you were able to take a few full breaths and come to your senses. Your gaze automatically drifted to the front door again. "The fuck is this," you cursed, getting up from your seat. In one motion, you were at the door and opened it with a jerk. No one.
You ran out onto the porch, looking around - no one was lurking behind any bush or tree. You rushed out to the backyard. Still in your right mind and sneaking carefully between the beds so as not to damage anything, you hung over the low wooden fence and looked down - the path that led to your house was indeed someone running. Someone small and thin, probably a child. The last thing you saw before the child finally ran down the hill and disappeared behind the other house was something glinting on his hand.
"Who's there?" shouted Frank, standing at the beginning of the beds.
You looked once more at the house behind which the unknown guest had hidden. There was nothing to be seen. "I have no clue," you said, still keeping your eyes on that house and hoping someone would show up. "It looks like it was a kid."
Frank, resting his arms at his sides, snorted. "What kinda kid walks this late?" waiting a little while for you to level with him, he strode beside you back into the house. "Okay, ya stay here and I'll go and go around to everyone," he said, stepping over the threshold - only to grab his jacket. "Maybe one of the adults didn't look out. It's no case for a child to be out alone so late. Even in Hopetown," Frank kissed you on the top of the head and left you alone with the show on TV.
***
The series was interesting. You didn't even notice the morning had come when you were watching people who had survived a plane crash trying to survive on an island far away from civilization. Frank, who had returned in the middle of the night, had fallen asleep on the couch where you were sitting, muttering quietly to himself that no one had lost anyone.
The man slept so soundly that he was not disturbed by the birds whose beautiful singing in the morning seemed annoying, nor by the sound of the alarm clock on his phone, which pissed you off more. "Frank, turn it off," you muttered, but he didn't respond. You kicked him defiantly in the thigh, and only then did he perk up, jabbed something randomly at the phone screen, and his head fell back against the pillow. "Frank, the geese won't feed themselves," you said, climbing up and sitting down on the back of the couch. "Get up, ya sloth!" planting your feet on his back, you attempted to shove him off the couch. The man's body wouldn't budge, and the alarm clock rang again.
You were distracted from the action by a thin voice. "Y/N-ie?" there was Tris on the far step, clutching a tattered stuffed cat. Frank jumped up on the spot, and you tightened your lips skeptically - a tank shot wouldn't have woken him up, but a child's voice brought him to his senses.
"Ya woke her," you hissed, jumping off the couch. You walked over to Tris and squatted down in front of her. "Hey," as soon as you reached for her, she immediately pulled away and almost tripped on the step. "What's wrong?" you worried, frowning your eyebrows.
"You're ugly," the girl stared at you with frightened eyes and clutched the toy harder to her chest. "Don't touch me."
You opened your mouth, but closed it again. "She's not ugly," said Frank, scooping Tris up in his arms. "She just hasn't been eating enough. Now do ya see what happens to people who don't eat enough?" he questioned instructively, walking over to the fridge.
You should have spent more time with her. She rarely saw you, and this time you came home looking like that. You knew exactly why she'd acted the way she did, but you couldn't help the pang of annoyance.
You walked over to her, sitting meekly on Frank's arm and examining the contents of the refrigerator with him, and immediately intercepted the little girl - she immediately started kicking and squealing. "Let go! I don't wanna!"
You pulled her against you, ignoring the childish but precise blows of small fists against your body. "It's me, it's just me," you babbled, never losing your grip, though you cringed every time a fist hit your bulging spine. "That's me. Bun, look at me," just hearing the nickname startled Tris. She frowned at you, and though she still didn't trust you, she stopped whipping you.
"You used to come more often," tears could be heard in her voice. "Why did you stop coming? Y-you don't love me anymore?"
"What?" you blurted out in confusion. "No, no, of course not. I just got worked up. I'm sorry," you said, pulling her tighter against you.
If her tears had been silent before, now she burst into sobs. "S-so you love work more?"
"No, no, don't say that. I love you equally," came the clank of a plate and Frank turned around and looked at you so fiercely that you immediately realized your mistake. "That's not what I meant to say! Of course I love ya more. It's just... I need to make some money," you said quietly, shielding Tris from any other more detailed explanations as to why you were doing this.
Frank rustled the kitchen utensils harder, drawing attention to himself. "Honey," he addressed Tris, though you both raised your heads. "What do ya want for breakfast?"
Tris sniffed weakly through her reddened nose. "Omelet with cheese," she said quietly, and snuggled into your neck again.
Frank's phone rang again - you snorted irritably, thinking it was another alarm clock, but to your surprise, he tapped the screen and put the phone to his ear. Who's calling him this early? "Yes," he said into the receiver. "Yeah, she's here," he answered monosyllabically, giving you a glimpse. "Yeah, I got it," he dropped the call and stared dumbly at the screen for a few more seconds. Coughing, Frank slowly walked over to you. "Higher-ups are calling."
For some reason now, thinking about last night's strange guest made your insides boil - just like the water in a kettle, only this one had an automatic shutoff, but your insides continued to seethe. "What the hell?" you whispered angrily, looking up at the puzzled Frank.
As you walked along the tired road, ignoring the streetlights that had been there for a hundred years, you kept thinking about that child. Had they really fallen so low as to ask the child to watch you and, more importantly, what had the higher-ups offered them? Or did they take advantage of the little man's unselfishness?
The snow had melted and the masonry was still covered with fallen autumn leaves. Had it occurred to any of them to pick up a broom and clean up the mess? Out of frustration, you tried to kick one such leaf - it mockingly flew aside, and you almost fell. "Careful," Frank said, grabbing you under the arm.
Despite your condition, you tried to keep your posture as straight and your head as high as possible, even though it made you uncomfortable. As soon as you were distracted for a second, your body folded in on itself and your head fell back. "Did ya tell them?" you asked, realizing the absurdity of your question.
"No."
"I had to ask."
"I know," Frank said understandingly.
No matter how much you walked, it was as if the wide wooden doors were never coming closer. "Was it a good idea to leave Tris and Mike with Danielle?"
"I'm not sure," the man shook his head sadly. "But I couldn't send ya alone, either. And Danielle... Maybe she'll be distracted for at least an hour, who knows."
"Or maybe she needs some peace and quiet right now and we've only made things worse," you put forward a disappointing suggestion.
Frank's face turned stern, which foreshadowed the grumbling. "That's it, enough. We can't keep up everywhere and always do everything right."
"Is this about your cheese omelet?" you giggled.
Frank immediately exploded. "I did everything right!" he thundered. "Why didn't she like it?"
You bit your lip, trying to suppress a sly smile. "Tris told me that Gojo's was better," though Frank's face was covered by a thick mustache and beard, you could see that his face was turning red, and the increasing wheezing could be picked up even by a hearing impaired person. "Don't be so jealous," you encouraged him, shoving him lightly with your shoulder.
"Let your man cook for her now, then," he muttered unhappily.
You didn't blush, you didn't flinch or swallow your tongue - it all sounded like one big joke to you. "He's not my man," you dismissed.
The door seemed closer and closer. It was only three lanterns away. "For how long?" snorted Frank. "He even took Shaya's-"
"That's it, I'm going," you cut him off halfway through.
The man froze in place, and you stopped abruptly with him, for Frank still held you under his arm. "What does that mean? I'm coming with ya."
"No," you objected softly. "Just in case, I need ya out of the area of potential danger."
Frank jerked you to stand in front of him - he stared into your eyes, trying to find your plans in them. "I told ya not to do anything rash."
You squeezed his hand gently. "I won't. Just being reassuring."
He squeezed your palm in response. "Fine, but I'm gonna stand here. One more thing - if ya're not back in ten minutes, I'm coming after ya."
You giggled, childishly and shyly nodding. "Okay."
Without looking back, you made it the rest of the distance to the door much faster than you'd expected, and what surprised you even more was that it was closed. You leaned your forehead against the wooden surface - of course you would have liked to kick the door with your foot to secure your long-held opinion of yourself, but you could do nothing more than push. The door gave way with great difficulty, shuffling and scratching the floor - not for a moment did you feel as if you were moving a mountain, for you had done your best, and it had hardly moved an inch or two.
You pushed again, and the door gave way as easily as if it weighed nothing - it flew off with a bang, causing you to slam face down on the floor. "Eh...," you mumbled. There was no blood - but the sharp sensation in the bridge of your nose made you start to sniffle. You raised your head - five pairs of eyes were staring at you. All of them. "Howdy," you muttered, rising to your feet and shaking yourself off. "Couldn't ya open it?" you asked grudgingly, pointing behind you. "It's heavy."
Christian glanced at you from head to toe, slowly stroking his chin. Only Nathaniel greeted you with a nod of his head. Old Ellie sat next to him. You could see through the magnifying lenses of her glasses that her eyes were slipping shut. A couple, a man and a woman, who didn't even glance in your direction, but only continued to talk quietly about something, occupied the remaining two chairs on Christian's left hand. "Ooh," you drawled contentedly. "Even the married ones are here. Ravona, Yoichi, hey," you waved at them, and the woman finally graced you with a glance. You chuckled quietly as she raised her eyebrows haughtily and went back to cooing with her husband. "What can I do for ya?" you turned to Christian obligingly.
"A cockroach, indeed," Christian said absently, and he was no longer looking at you, but through you. "You came back last night."
"Yes-"
"It wasn't a question," Christian said, flailing his palm lightly in the air. "You should have come here right away," you bit your cheeks and lowered your head sharply, all because you felt a growing anger – like the anger a child feels when a parent scolds him for something as trivial as that. "You're aware of that, too, so you're not being as cheeky as you usually are."
"Yeah I just wanted to take a bath and rest for a while," you blurted out, splashing your hands dramatically at the injustice. "What's wrong with that?"
Christian barely audibly clucked his tongue. "People could have gotten hurt 'cause of your cravings," he stated, rising from his seat and carefully picking up the clerical shears from the stand with his fingers. "You know the terms under which we agreed to maintain neutrality, so if you'd be so kind...," he stepped close to you - so close that you could smell his breath mixed with the scent of minty mouthwash. "Hold still."
Christian raised one arm, the loose shiny fabric falling away, exposing his forearm. "What are you doing?" bellowed Nathaniel alarmed. "That's not protocol!"
"Silence!" Christian hissed loudly, throwing his scissor hand into the air. Nathaniel stopped abruptly and put his hand to his mouth - you could see from the corner of your eye that he was trying to separate his stitched lips with his fingers.
Something under your eye prickled. When you touched the pad of your finger to the sore spot and looked at it, you noticed blood, and then you turned your gaze to Christian, eyebrow raised disapprovingly. "I apologize," he said courteously, lowering the hand that was clutching the shears and bringing it to his bare forearm. "I was careless. It won't happen again. Now...," he ran the edge of the scissors across his skin without thinking, leaving a long deep cut that immediately began to bleed.
For everyone here, it started to flow. For you, it started to ooze. Breathing steadily, you tore your gaze away from the scarlet liquid and stared into Christian's eyes. No surprise, there was a condescending, barely perceptible smile on his face as usual. Saliva began to pool in your mouth, but you didn't dare swallow, not to let on that all you felt was dread hunger.
Dread hunger was always something unpleasant, even painful and unbearable, but you were in nothing but excruciating pain - as if every bone in your body were being broken in three places and all your nerves were being slowly pulled out from under your skin. For a second, you wished the man standing in front of you would turn into a mirror - just to make sure you were all right. In fact, Christian did reflect your condition because if anything had happened to you, his haughty smile would have turned into a nasty one.
Nathaniel rose from his seat again, drawing attention to himself. Christian reluctantly turned around, hardly taking his eyes off you. "That's enough. She's fine," Nathaniel said sharply, and you took advantage of the confusion to finally swallow the thick saliva that had accumulated.
"Well," Christian sighed, and after waiting for the wound on his forearm to heal, walked to his chair. "I won't keep you any longer," he said carelessly over his shoulder.
You couldn't even roll your eyes, and with the last shred of pride you could muster, you turned and walked away from the place. Your throat felt like it was churning, and it seemed to you that as soon as you opened your mouth, either vomit or blood would pour out.
You were beginning to forget your own language, so when you saw Frank on the horizon, you couldn't swear properly - even your thoughts were a mess of letters and sounds instead of the usual words. Your legs began to shake. The last thing you saw before you bent in half was Frank running toward you. "Honey," he whispered, picking you up by the waist. "Does it hurt too much?" he worried, trying to look into your face, but you didn't rise it. You didn't even hear him. "Let's get ya to the doc," the man said softly, scooping you up in his arms.
[May 30, 2020; 09:43 am; hunters' hq]
Your vision was so blurred that even the silhouettes were a mishmash of faded colors. You couldn't feel your own limbs, and you shook your head sluggishly as someone's hands tried to shove something into your mouth - the tip of your tongue picked out several small, smooth capsules, and then your mouth was filled with water; you coughed - someone instantly pressed their palm against your lips, forcing you to swallow it all.
Finally, the mess in your eyes began to blur - you saw a doc's coat disappear through the doorway, like a snow-white dove that had flown away. "Hey," the face leaning over you was nothing, though you caught a glimpse of green. "Sunshine, ya okay?"
Rolled onto your side, you squeezed your eyes shut a few times, and when you opened them, you saw Kyle in front of you. You wanted to jump up and pounce on him, but he hugged you faster. "Kyle!" you exclaimed in relief. "God, it's so good to see ya again!"
"Hey," he reached out softly, burrowing into the top of your head.
You squirmed impatiently. "Kyle, that was awful!" you complained. "I had to lie on the bare floor, my lower back hurts like hell, no hot water or food, no toothpaste, I'm ninety percent sand, my knees hurt, and my ears are still buzzing like there's a train coming!"
A chuckle escaped Kyle's lips - he was relieved at the sound of your confused babbling as confirmation that you were indeed back. "Easy," he grinned, laying you back down on the couch. "Ya still have a high fever, so don't jump up."
You snorted. "How many people do ya even know who died of high temperature?"
"Read about the Inquisition, that's fucked up," he joked, pulling the blanket over you and tucking the edges under your squirming legs.
You hesitated a little and watched the procession, your lips tightening uneasily and you pulled yourself to a sitting position again. "Look, Kyle... Out there in the void-"
He looked at you despondently. "Don't even start," he retorted grimly.
"We need to get back there as soon as possible-"
"Enough!" he bellowed angrily. "Ya just got back, and all ya doing now is complaining, snapping at me, and also claiming ya need to go back! Have ya even considered how I feel, no?" his voice broke on the last words, and it happened as suddenly as it did easily - as if someone had accidentally snapped a thin dry branch in two. "Don't ya dare," he panted, shaking his head tiredly.
"Kyle," you began softly. "I told ya I'm really happy to see ya-"
"It's a bare fucking minimum!" his broken voice turned to a shout, and as he gave you his disappointed stare, you discerned in the fluorescent light the redness of his eyes.
As you struggled to swallow the threads of resentment and injustice, you thought about the fact that maybe you deserved this kind of bias on his part, but that didn't give Kyle the right to interrupt you. "I just wanted to tell ya that I found a settlement, that's all," you muttered, playing with the edge of the blanket with your fingers.
"Oh, shit," Kyle marveled, and now without the veil of anger in his eyes, he sat down gently on the bed and wrapped his arms around you again. "I'm sorry," he mumbled guiltily. "I... I was just really worried, ya know."
"Screaming wasn't necessary," you mumbled grumpily into his shirt. "That's why I have to go back there, or show ya, so ya can at least start without me."
"I know, I know," Kyle said understandingly, stroking your head because he now shared your excitement with you. "But in order to show it, ya need to recover. Ya can't go into the void yet. Even if ya don't get broken in half, if Doc finds out about it, he-"
"Will cut off my legs," you finished for him doomfully. "I'm aware of that."
Kyle hummed thoughtfully. "Ya know what we should do? Why don't ya take a couple weeks off for now, and then ya can show me, where the settlement is" you grimaced irritably at the time he'd given you. "And I'll show Rach and Issu, and we'll start without ya. And when ya finally recovered, ya'll join us. Deal?"
"And what will ya do for those two weeks?" you sourly inquired.
"For now, we'll run like we ran, since raids can't be interrupted. I think we won't even run, but walk," he grinned. "Saving our strength. Maybe we'll come across another settlement," you didn't answer, only sighed disappointedly and longingly. "Stop sulking," Kyle gently tugged at your ear, and feeling you shudder, chuckled. "Lemme get my laptop and we will watch something, 'kay?"
"Okay," you replied, watching him get up from the couch. "Bring me a snack, too."
Kyle opened his mouth, and when he realized the words weren't coming out, he closed it back up. He glanced toward one of the bollards where something was lying on it. "Ya know...," he began carefully, afraid to see even a hint of tears in your eyes. "There are some problems with that."
You followed the direction of his gaze, and when you saw several bags of glucose for the IV, you despaired. "No," you exhaled bitterly. "No, no, no!" you banged your fists stubbornly on the bunk. "Don't do this to me, please. I'm gonna die, I'm gonna wither and die."
"Don't be dramatic," Kyle laughed, looking at your stricken face. "Doc said it's only for a couple days. Keep your cool, and I'll be right back," he said as he walked out the door, but stopped immediately. It was as if he was staring somewhere in the emptiness of the hallway, not blinking or averting his gaze. You gingerly threw back the blanket, and swung your legs over as quietly as you could, a pleasant chill traveling down your feet as they touched the floor. "Hey," you jerked back when Kyle spoke again. "What ya doing here?"
Megumi appeared in the doorway. "I... I'm sorry, I just heard you were back," he glimpsed at you. "I just... I wanted to talk, uh… About Dany, but I guess I choose wrong timing. Um... Are you feeling okay?"
"As you can see," you chirped, smiling, but all Megumi saw was a couple hundred bones held together by a thin layer of skin. "It's all good. So what's the deal with Dany-"
"I'll go," Megumi mumbled awkwardly, and turned on his heels and scurried away. You gave Kyle a puzzled look, and he returned you the same one, shrugging his shoulders.
[May 30, 2020; 4:53 pm; hunters' hq]
[04:51pm] Oldman: Ward seven on the left. She's not feeling well rn, so go easy on her
Gojo kept staring at the message, stroking the small scratch on his phone's screen - a scratch that had formed just recently, the moment he'd first read it. Standing in front of the door to the infirmary, he consciously made a fist and only unclenched it when the pain of his nails digging into his skin made it clear that he was awake.
Gojo finally entered the corridor of the infirmary and took a step. Then another step, and another, and another, and another, and another, each one faster than the last, and his mind was racing with the thought of not running. Why was he walking so fast? The ward was already so close, and he was afraid he wouldn't have time to quiet that excited yet aching feeling in his chest, lest he look like an immature teenager who couldn't control his feelings.
He stopped in the doorway. He didn't just stop, he froze. How tired are you if you didn't even look at him? And if you didn't hear him at all, what happened to you?
You were sitting on the bed, staring at the phone - his ribs were stabbing. So you had a chance to send him a message, but you didn't.
Gojo tapped on the doorjamb to get your attention, and when you finally looked at him, he wanted to laugh. Your eyes did look three times as big against your gaunt face, but he didn't see you as just a skeleton covered in skin. Gojo thought only that you reminded him so much of a lemur. "You just got back," he grinned, looking at your clothes - a shapeless, holey sweater and pants that were three times your size, whether they were men's or whether you'd gotten so skinny that all your previous clothes hung on you like a sack. "And you've already had a clothes fight with some beggar?"
The snow had long since melted, washing away all the winter moping and despair, and the spring drops had long since played their inspiring choruses, but he was still here. "Hey," you said softly with such a joyful exhalation that Gojo bit his lip, not knowing why, either to suppress a silly smile or to muffle a painful whimper.
Your husky voice should have dispelled all his doubts about the illusory nature of what was happening, but he still couldn't believe you were back.
His unfamiliarly warm gaze made you catch up to the very chimera and grab for it, but even holding it with both hands, you still couldn't believe he stayed.
"Hey," he echoed you, keeping the quiet motifs of the chamber. "You look awful."
His words were hardly encouraging, but to you they sounded like a compliment. You watched Gojo approach the bed and sit awkwardly on the footboard, tucking his legs under him. He looked exactly the same as the first day you met him, though a mysterious blue under his eyes peeked through. "And ya're still beautiful."
He grinned affectionately. "Shut up," he mumbled shyly, moving closer to you.
You had no idea how much courage it took for him to press his forehead against yours, for he did it without hesitation, confidently. However, you, for your part, looked down like a coward. "I...," you began excitedly, swallowing. "Honestly, I didn't think ya'd stay," a nervous chuckle escaped your lips - you wanted to color your words with indifference, but it came out the other way around.
You felt Gojo's arms around your waist. He would have pressed you against him for all he was worth, but due to your condition, he had to sacrifice his desires. "I know I've given you reasons not to trust me. It won't happen again," he whispered into your neck, and you knew what he meant. He stayed yesterday, he'll stay tomorrow.
He'll stay with you.
Even though he couldn't hold you tighter, he selfishly tried to pull you closer, even though there was no more space between you. When he unintentionally pressed his knee against one of the sore spots on your leg, your whole body tensed involuntarily. Sensing this, Gojo raised his head and stared at you. "What is it?"
You shook your head, tucking your leg deeper under you. "It's okay," you declared, but the words came out through clenched teeth.
"What have you got there?" he asked worriedly, gently grabbing your ankle. "Let me see."
"It's not a pretty sight out there," you said, stubbornly trying to remove his hand. "Don't."
Your attempts were unsuccessful - if you could handle one of his hands, you couldn't handle two. Gojo pulled your leg out and rested it on his knee. "I actually exorcise curses," he announced smugly, rolling up your pant leg. "Do you have any idea how nasty they can look? I got one once, in the shape of a wormy di-"
"I got it!" you exclaimed, waving your free hand. "I got it, don't go on," you buried your face in your hand in embarrassment, and Gojo laughed softly.
Nudging your shin, he examined it. The usual calluses and a few sores - Gojo didn't feel anything nasty or repulsive. "Well," he drawled thoughtfully, looking around the ward. Gently placing your foot on the couch, he stood up and began rummaging through the drawers.
Even as you heard the sounds of searching, you couldn't move your hand away from your face. "What ya doing?" you mumbled in frustration.
The sounds and rumbling intensified - some things seemed to be flying to the floor. "Looking for ointment...," he muttered under his nose. A drawer door slammed. "Oh, found it!" you tried to disconnect from everything that was going on, but his hands, that once again encircled your shin and brought it back to his knee, stubbornly prevented you from doing so. "Hold still," if you didn't have your hands right now, you'd be staring at the ceiling. If you were forced to look, you'd be gouging your eyes out. You could feel Gojo gently circling certain places on your leg as if inspecting, and only then a cool sensation that dulled the pain. If the gel was so cold, why did you feel so warm?
You sighed in relief when he finally put your leg back on the bed, and you were about to pull your hand away from your face, but when Gojo started on the second one, you pressed your palm back with such force that you nearly evened the bridge of your nose with your eyes.
He'd never thought or suspected that such a thing existed - that he could touch a person so easily, and even when he touched the affected areas of they skin, he wouldn't be disgusted. On the contrary, Gojo wished you had at least two more of them on your feet.
You heard a smack. "What the hell?"
"A mosquito," he mumbled, rubbing his sore cheek and shaking his head as if to ward off that stupid thought in the form of that imaginary mosquito. "Uh, well...," he said quietly, slowly running his fingers down your calves from bottom to top, admiring the result. "I think that's it," despite the finished work, his palms, as if enchanted, couldn't get away from you.
Soft touches that dulled or took away all the pain, from blisters to days in the cold, godforsaken wasteland. You never knew that touches could be that gentle, and they could be like that fictitious pill that cured every disease - from slight to severe, from physical to mental, but no one had warned you about the side effects. Breathing became difficult, your lungs ached.
The more he touched you, the quieter the days he spent in your workroom in the clutches of loneliness and agonizing waiting seemed. He could feel all the cold that had accumulated in you on his skin. He desperately tried to banish it with his hands. Neither curses, nor demons, nor the forces of nature dared to touch you – just him and him alone.
When Gojo's hands were under your kneecaps, you shrieked and jerked up, a sharp pain hitting your forehead. "Fuck," you whimpered, rubbing the sore spot and leaning back against the pillow.
"Everyone in your family chooses violence, don't they?" he mumbled, and you immediately reacted to the sound, opening your eyes to find him sitting in front of you, his head tilted back and holding the bridge of his nose.
"God, I'm sorry!" you squeaked, but you didn't even have time to jump out of your seat, for he immediately plopped down beside you, throwing one arm over you, pinning you to the bed. "No blood? Lemme see," you rolled over onto your side in a way you regretted. Gojo's face was only a few inches away, and there wasn't even a hint of blood, though there was something red on his face. His cheeks. This state of affairs didn't suit him, so bringing his hand up to your face, he pinched your nose through your mask. "Hey, what for?" you muttered, sniffling quietly at the growing ticklish feeling.
"Wanted to," he snickered, and with a soft movement, he brushed the unruly strands of hair away from your face. Something tinkled, and you grabbed his arm. "Did ya get a new watch?" you asked, looking at it almost up close, not even noticing how his face was half sunk into the pillow in embarrassment, and Gojo was watching you with only one eye. You saw it, and that was enough for him.
Hearing him mutter something in agreement under his breath, you hummed thoughtfully, which made him even more nervous. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"No, it's nothing," you kept looking at his wristwatch, but with a furrowed brow. "I just have a feeling I've seen them somewhere before."
He pulled his hand away and hid it under the blanket. "Well!" he exclaimed. "That's a popular one, you know."
Gojo didn't dare to ask you if you liked it, foolish though it was, for fear of causing your suspicions. Nevertheless, he hoped you thought it beautiful, for in his mind you were destined to wear them. "Um...," you muttered, averting your gaze. "Is there anything else I should know about?"
"No," he answered quietly but firmly. "Really. I won't hide anything from you ever again," he leaned his forehead against yours, his hand stroking your lower back as if he knew that was where you were hurting.
"Then ya can ask your question again."
He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but when he realized what you meant, he smiled in a way that made him look ten years younger. Even though you'd never seen him as a teenager, you felt like that's what he looked like in that bygone and almost forgotten time. "Do you wanna be my best friend?"
"I wanna be your best friend."
[June 1, 2020; 05:28am; hunters' hq, training field]
When it dawned, you realized what you had done. The entire area of grass in front of you had been torn up, but even that didn't make you spare the surviving blades of grass, and you glanced anxiously at your phone again. After you'd seen Kyle off, you sat down to wait for Rachel to return, but it was past five in the morning, and she was still gone.
What kept her so long? Knowing her character, you hoped she was all right, and memories of her combativeness turned your hope into faith. After all, you'd always thought that the more enemies she had around her, the stronger she'd become, but there was a rotten worm inside you, twisting and turning, reminding you that Rachel's fiery temper might someday fail her.
Unconsciously, you reached out to touch the grass and realized that all that was left was bare ground. You snorted irritably and moved a little to the side - there was still plenty of grass to torture, but as you reached out, you realized you couldn't see anything else.
You jumped to your feet and tried to open your eyes, but they closed back up as if in protest, trying to avoid the sharp pain. You turned from side to side, but you couldn't feel any danger, except for someone else's presence.
You rubbed your clenched eyelids with the back of your hands and tried to blink. You could see the silhouette, but more importantly, you could see a lock of red hair. It seemed you'd been thinking about something else, and you'd been so slow to catch the violet flash that you hadn't had time to cover your eyes, and you'd paid for it.
Wiping the tears from your lower eyelids, you tried to see your sister again. She was hobbling, her uniform cut and torn in places, and there was a huge laceration on her side. "Rach!" you alarmed, running closer to her. "Hey, hey," you picked up her falling head on your chest by the chin.
"Adoptee," she said softly, smiling with bloodstained teeth. "Ya alive, aren't ya?" your appearance seemed to give her a little strength - she smacked her forehead into the top of your head. "Ya've noticed too? There are too many loners," she gritted angrily through her teeth. "Look!" she raised her head and stared at you; there were tears in her eyes. "Look at that!" she sobbed, trying to reach her red tail with her hand and extend it in your direction. Part of it wasn't even cut off - it was torn off, like a bunch of old strings. "Look what those scums did to my hair!" she nervously and frantically tried to smooth her ponytail, but when she felt that all the strands were different lengths, she burst into tears. She didn't even seem to notice that there was some flesh missing from her side. "I'm gonna fucking kill 'em," she squeaked in a muffled voice. "And ya!" she tried to shove you away resentfully. "It's all 'cause of ya," she forced herself to say, wiping away nonstop tears with her hand. "If ya hadn't disappeared, I wouldn't be distracted by thoughts of ya, and none of this would be happening!"
You scooped her up by the waist, trying to stay out of the wound. "I know. I'm sorry," you mumbled guiltily, pulling her closer to the house. "Let's just go to the doc, 'kay?"
"Shove your apologies up your ass," she bellowed, but her body went limp in your arms - it felt heavy, but despite her words, she still seemed to rely on you.
***
You'd hoped that Rachel's injury would distract the doc for a while so he wouldn't harp on the fact that you should have stayed in the ward the whole time, and it had worked. Now you stood in front of the fridge, staring at the contents, trying to figure out what you could do to placate the big sister. Your stomach rumbled as you perused the bacon, shrimps, yogurt, and chocolate dragees. When you stopped your gaze at the fresh berries, you almost burst into tears. Maybe it was for the best that you couldn't eat them now - Rachel loved them, too.
You caught a glimpse of a silhouette sitting down at the dinner table. "Hey."
You glanced over your shoulder and noted the dark hair sticking out in all directions. "Hey," you greeted Megumi cheerfully. "Can't sleep?"
"Just used to getting up early," he said, shrugging indifferently. "Y/N?" he turned to you after a brief silence.
"Yeah?" you hummed, pulling out a package of berries.
"I... Um, I overheard that you found a settlement," he began awkwardly. You closed the refrigerator door abruptly - Megumi shuddered. You stopped in front of the boy, staring straight into his eyes. "I-I just thought, since I happen to be able to enter the void as well, maybe...," he fidgeted in his chair, trying to look away from you, but the bonds of your gaze were so strong that even a hunting knife wouldn't do the trick. "Maybe I can help you-"
"No," you replied sharply and headed for the infirmary door.
There was a rustling sound behind you and the sudden creaking of a chair. "I just wanna help. By taking me, you can carry more supplies for the people there," when you turned around, he was staring at the floor, but his fists were clenched. "I passed the isolation easily. Doesn't that prove I'm worth something?"
"It was an accident," you replied coldly.
"Whatever," he went on stubbornly. "Even so, but doesn't that mean I'm worthy?"
You grinned sarcastically, squinting your eyes. "Worthy of what? Getting kicked around in the cold wasteland? Such an honor."
"Saving people," he whispered and finally looked at you, and in his eyes lurked the answer.
"Megumi, what are ya talking about?" you worriedly said. "Ya're already saving them-"
A chuckle or a sob escaped his lips. "Really? How many people did I save while Sukuna was walking around in my body?"
The answer was voiced, but you remained adamant. "I got ya, but ya're still a teenager and there's still a lot ya can accomplish. Ya'll still have time to make things right. So... No. Sorry, but no," hoping that would be enough, you tried to walk away again - both from the boy and the conversation.
Megumi knew what he was doing was dirty, but he realized there was nothing else he could do. "Do you have the right to refuse?" Megumi's voice was firm. "You're supposed to train anyone who asks. You have an obligation," he was still drilling his gaze into your back. "Am I wrong? There are only four of you left," what a miracle - the firm voice suddenly trembled.
What a familiar song. What a familiar, annoying, ear-splitting song. Your nostrils must have flared at that tone. Or the truth that had just burned your ears. You turned around. Along with the boy, you saw his inner core. You stared at each other for a few more moments. Both of you stubborn as hell. "I should call him," you surrendered, reaching into your pocket.
"Don't," Megumi said almost pleadingly. "I wanna decide for myself this time."
"He's your guardian," you reminded him.
Megumi grinned bitterly. "His guardianship began and ended when he took me from the Zenin clan."
"Oh, really?" you inquired, arching an ironic eyebrow. "I take it food and clothes have been falling out of the sky for ya all this time?"
"You may be right," he nodded briefly. "But you can't say he loved me much."
"And ya?" you nodded defiantly toward the boy. "Did ya love him much?" Megumi looked at you perplexed as if you were speaking to him in a foreign language. He opened his mouth but didn't say a word, and with a shake of his head, he immediately closed it back up. "Okay, well...," you scrunched your forehead. "At six in the morning, I expect ya on the practice field. Ya'll run until you spit out your own lungs," your tone made Megumi shiver - as if the temperature in the room had plummeted. "And ya know what? Ya're already late," you barked before finally disappearing behind the infirmary doors.
Ryan and Axel had already run away from you, and they'd done it so fast that they'd probably already made it around the Earth and back to the starting point, while you and Megumi had barely run about seven miles. Even such a run was hard on your recovering body, but it seemed to be harder on the boy as you glared at him from time to time. Sweat was pouring from Megumi's flushed face, and he was forgetting how to breathe properly for such exertion. Something was crunching. Maybe it was the branches under your feet, or maybe it was your knees.
You always tried to find solace in those jogs through the forest, but not now, you were worried about Megumi. Did he take your words so seriously? He was clearly unwell. His legs had already buckled for the fifth time. "Hey," you called out to him quietly. "I've got a calf cramp, let's take a little break," you said, grabbing his shoulder with one hand and your side with the other, trying to catch your breath. He nodded silently, and you moved off the path a little, sitting down by the roots of one of the trees. "Thirsty?" you asked courteously, taking your backpack off your shoulders.
"Yeah," Megumi replied on an exhale. He'd been trying to hold back his own inhalations and exhalations the whole time, so that you wouldn't hear that he'd been crying inside for the last two miles, but he'd only trapped himself more - the lack of oxygen made his body protest harder, and his vision began to darken.
Megumi took the bottle from your hands and took a couple sips, trying not to be greedy. "Now, time for a little breathing exercise," you chirped, taking a seat across from him. "Come on, right with the noise. Inhale," you sucked in air so loudly and forcefully that you scared away a squirrel that had snuck up and was interested in you. When Megumi repeated after you, you exhaled just as much, expecting him to repeat after you.
After doing this a few more times, you noticed that Megumi was feeling better - though he was still glistening with sweat, the redness on his face was starting to fade. "There ya go," you said enthusiastically, sitting down next to him again. "Much better, wouldn't ya say?" you nudged his shoulder softly with yours.
Megumi twirled the water bottle in his hands thoughtfully. "I apologize for speaking to you like that," he said guiltily. "I just didn't know how else to affect you."
"It's fine," you replied indifferently, waving it away. "I just don't understand why ya'd wanna do that anyway."
"The cursed world gave me nothing," he lied, not even realizing he was lying. Sure, the cursed world had given him, and given him a lot, except that Megumi would probably give it all back for free. "And the desire to save people hasn't gone away, and most likely never will," he would no longer be able to plunge into the routine of ordinary life knowing the other side of it - dark and mysterious, as cruel as it is elusive to ordinary people.
These were the kind of people Megumi wanted to protect, wishing that they would never know what lurked behind that door without a doorknob.
"I just...," he began reservedly. "I just don't wanna feel helpless anymore, 'cause if I feel that way, how can I help others?" his restraint immediately broke along with his voice. "When Sukuna took over my body, I just wanted to die."
"I understand," you replied quietly, swallowing.
He smirked wistfully. "I'm sorry, but I doubt that. I remember everything. I was hurt. I was sick. And there was nothing I could do about it," he buried his face in his hands as if the past appeared from behind one of the trees, and it appeared in a most unpleasant guise.
"Let's do this," you said, slapping yourself on your legs. "I promise I'll train ya for a while, and in return, ya promise me to think less about all the bad things that have happened to ya. Deal?" you rubbed the top of his head affectionately.
"Deal," mumbled Megumi into his palms. "Only why 'for a while'? I can handle intense training too."
"You offered to help us," you pointed out. "Not to become a voidrunner."
"But-"
"Let's go home. Ya've had enough for today."
***
You'd already opened the door to the workroom, but you couldn't help but cast one last sympathetic glance at the boy. He was sluggishly shuffling his feet up the stairs, and his torso was as still as if it had been separated from his lower body - arms dangling tiredly along his body, his torso tilted, his head slumped against his chest. "Megumi," you called out to him, and Megumi stopped, though he didn't seem to find the energy to even turn in your direction. "I'll meet ya at the same place tomorrow morning at six," his head twitched, and you took it as a nod. You were about to leave him alone, but you remembered something. "Ya know, let's get together a little early, though," you shouted after him as he opened the door. "Come to my workroom at five, I need to take your measurements!" the door that slammed shut sharply only answered you.
When you finally entered the workroom, you froze like a dumbfounded deer before lights. Gojo was standing across from you, equally motionless and looking at you questioningly. "Ya're back already?" you inquired softly, watching his hand with the towel frozen at the back of his head - it looked like he'd just gotten out of the shower. "I, uh...," you swallowed nervously. "I can explain everything."
You flinched when he moved, so much so he had resembled a statue before. "Oh, come on," he smiled carelessly, stepping closer to you. You exhaled as Gojo walked past you. "I knew you were a thief, didn't I," his muffled voice came from the bathroom. Getting rid of the towel, he appeared before you again, but he didn't even glance in your direction. "So it was only a matter of time before you got to my students, too."
You watched helplessly as he passed by you and moved farther and farther away, and the doubt that it wasn't just about the growing distance between you in the workroom clenched and sought to explode in your soul. "Aren't you angry?"
"Me?" asked Gojo carelessly over his shoulder in your direction. "Angry. I'm so angry," he laughed softly, and you sat down on the edge of the bed, carefully making your way around the room. "At myself."
You waited for him to pay attention to you, and when you caught his gaze, you patted the spot next to you. Gojo hesitantly approached, and you unconsciously reached out to him, so relieved when you realized the distance between you was gone. He gently picked up your palm and sat down next to you. "So...," he began, hesitating. "Megumi has both cursed and dark energy now? That's how a generation grows up," he grinned wistfully, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. "That's what I wanted, isn't it? I wanted to raise a generation of strong sorcerers. The kind that would be on par with me. No, even stronger. So strong that one day they could leave me behind."
"Why do ya say that?" you asked half-heartedly. "Why would they leave ya behind?"
"Why else do you think everyone needs me?" Gojo swallowed, looking at your intertwined hands. You were just now realizing how elaborate his ideas about human relationships were in his head, and if they were only there that would be half the problem, but something told you that there was a quiet but all-consuming chaos going on in his soul as well. "I screwed up even here, though. I was so consumed with realizing my own goal that I didn't even notice... No, rather, I forgot that my students were just kids. I was ready to kill anyone who would take their youth away from them, and I ended up taking it from them myself. I guess I really am a shitty teacher, so... Maybe Megumi would be better off with you," he unconsciously released your hand from his.
"Satoru, stop it," you commanded softly. "Ya are not your power. Ya're just a human being, and I think everyone realizes that."
"Oh, really?" snapped Gojo sarcastically. "You wanna say that if I didn't have this power, you'd let me strut around your workroom like this and you would put up with all my scattered stuff? Don't be ridiculous."
"But I've never seen your power," you whispered hurt. You'd heard rumors and stories like the ballads they write about heroes, but you'd only seen it once. In his fight with Sukuna, you'd only caught glimpses of tiny, evaporating drops of his power. Did he think you were holding on to something so ephemeral?
To be honest, he didn't think about it. He couldn't think of any other reason why you'd accepted him and why you'd tolerated him. Staying true to his habits, he couldn't say the words of apology out loud, but he relied on the touches - with any luck, they would say it all for him. "Ya said Megumi would be better off with me," you said into the top of his white hair as his hands tentatively held your waist. "But ya're wrong. He'll be better off with us."
The word 'us' made Gojo think of you and the other hunters, and he didn't even dare to get in between in those thoughts, but when your hands closed around his back, it was like opening all those doors he'd never been able to open. Behind those doors was a bright light, so vivid it hurt his eyes. He had no choice but to stay on one side of the door and burn with his regrets and unfulfilled hopes in that desperate flame, or to step forward and let it burn to the ground, but without him.
Gojo stepped through. Beyond that door was his future and it existed, it glowed, and it was right beside him.
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