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safaia-47 · 26 days

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𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈

⎯⎯ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⎯⎯

♡ — 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄

♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: After what happened to you & your son, Satoru couldn’t stop drinking . . .

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: dark content, fem reader, canonverse, amnesia, mentions of death, suicide ideation, violence, mentions of food, drinking, gojo not eating. mention of gojo’s son & the reader struggling with their disabilities. reader wears dress/heels/perfume.

♡ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 11K

♡ — 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: Hi everyone, thanks for being patient with me! I doubt many of you remember this story and were waiting for a continuation, but I hope everyone who reads this enjoys this series coming to an end, and thank you for the kind comments on the last part.

— MONTHS BEFORE THE REUNION —

“I’m going to throw myself off of a building today,” Satoru Gojo thought as he glared down at his uneaten dinner, sitting alone in the booth of a restaurant called Jeezers, a blue and yellow themed sandwich place that hadn’t seen a spec of cosmetic work since the 90’s.

And it wasn’t a drunken idea; there wasn’t any alcoholic beverage that he could blame the unwanted thought on.

But, could he truly call such a thought unwanted?

His body didn’t flinch when the dark image of his planned suicide entered his mind. He didn’t try to push the negative emotion away, tell himself to snap out of it, or immediately try to think of happy things.

Instead, he thought about how he would do it, where he would go, and when.

But, due to his great power, jumping off a roof wouldn’t kill him — what would?

“Do I have to chop off my own head? Is that the only way?” he thought.

Satoru shoved his unappetizing sub sandwich away. The sandwich itself was rather delicious. The employee wasn’t skimpy when it came to the toppings, and for only five bucks, he also was able to get a refillable soda with it.

But the white-haired man didn’t want food.

He wanted his wife and son to come back to life. Or, he wanted alcohol. And to die.

The glass entrance doors chimed as a person walked through them. The generous sandwich maker — and cashier, as the restaurant was understaffed — greeted the hungry customer who casually strolled toward the counter.

“Welcome in!” The young woman said.

“Thanks,” the customer replied.

And, when Satoru heard that voice — as he didn’t bother to look up and see who entered the restaurant — the former teacher sighed heavily.

The sound of footsteps approaching his lonely booth grew louder and louder. As the person came closer, their steps slowed down greatly as if they were approaching a wild animal, expecting it to lash out.

“Gojo?” The call of his name came from his student — a former student — Yuji Itadori. He hadn’t heard his voice in a long time. It sounded a bit deeper, but he still recognized it.

Satoru looked up. Unsurprisingly, Megumi was with Itadori as well, and Gojo’s eyes flickered over to the boy he practically raised himself.

Satoru didn’t bother with faking a smile, nor an overly enthusiastic greeting — one with a touch of a humorous tone — that would capture the personality of the great Satoru Gojo they once knew.

He wasn’t that person anymore. And, now, he didn’t even have the strength to pretend to be.

“Hey,” Satoru mumbled sadly.

At least he was sober right now. If his students had caught him tripping over his own feet, tears falling from his blue eyes as strong alcohol coated his breath, he would never forgive himself.

Much to the depressed man’s dismay, the two sorcerers slid into the other side of the booth.

“We haven’t seen you in a while,” Itadori said, his voice heavy with worry, but kindness as well. “How . . . have you been?”

Satoru took a moment to truly look at them. They were older. When he had last seen them, they were simply young teenagers, but now, their jawlines had sharpened a bit more. Their voices were slightly deeper. They had grown a couple of inches. Megumi was starting to look more and more like his father, while Yuji — who wore his hair pushed back now — started to resemble Sukuna.

Satoru clenched his fist unintentionally.

Sukuna’s finger destroyed his family.

That’s what the higher-ups told him.

Years ago, Satoru could easily tell the difference between Sukuna and Yuji, markings aside. But, now, it was like he was staring right at the King of Curses.

The only difference was that Yuji’s eyes were filled with kindness and concern, not pure evil.

“It’s not him. It’s Yuji. It’s just Yuji. It’s not him. It’s not him,” Satoru repeated in his chaotic mind.

Looking over at Toji — no, it was Megumi — did him no favors, either.

It felt as if Satoru was staring right at his two greatest enemies.

“It’s been a few years,” Megumi blinked, his face solemn. “We didn’t know if they ever locked you up for that little killing spree of yours.”

The dark-haired sorcerer glared at Satoru with eyes that begged for answers, and Satoru could easily tell that he wanted to ask him about the infamous killing spree since the day someone undoubtedly told him the horrific news.

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Satoru clarified. He fidgeted with the paper wrapping of his untouched sandwich. “I was targeting curses.”

“Yeah?” A frown appeared across Megumi’s face. “But you were clumsy, and you hurt a lot of regular people too.”

“Leave him alone, Fushiguro,” Yuji glanced down at Satoru’s sandwich.

The uneaten dinner, along with the plain misery written all over his face, made it utterly obvious that the sad man was suffering enough.

Suddenly, the welcome bell chimed again as someone entered the restaurant. A pair of shoes clicked against the tile as they approached the counter before halting abruptly. There was a brief pause before their footsteps picked up once again, quicker this time as they changed their direction and made their way over to Satoru's booth.

“Gojo,” The young woman said with shock, as both a question and a statement.

Satoru looked up to see Nobara. Her ginger-brown hair was longer, falling past her shoulders, but not yet reaching her mid-back. She wore an eyepatch over her left eye.

She slid into the booth, sitting beside Satoru, who hesitantly scooted over.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” she looked at him. “How are you? I could kick your butt for leaving us behind, ya know.”

She smiled sadly as she spoke, her tone soft and humorous despite her words.

“I’m sorry.” Satoru’s leg started to shake.

“It’s okay,” Nobara glanced down at Satoru’s sandwich as well. “I get it. I’m just teasing you.”

“So,” Yuji spoke cautiously, thinking over his words before he said them. “What do you do now? Do you live around here?”

The country music playing softly in the background filled the silence for a moment. His former students simply blinked at him, waiting for a response.

“You guys should go to the counter and order your food.” Satoru stared down at the table. “I think they’re closing soon.”

“Gojo . . .” Nobara frowned, her honey brown eye glistening with worry. “Why don’t you come back to the school with us tomorrow? Everyone would love to see you, and . . . maybe you could talk to the higher-ups about becoming a sorcerer again.”

“The world has gone straight to hell without you,” Megumi added, although truly, he knew it was pointless.

The man couldn’t find the strength to have a proper dinner. He definitely wasn’t in any shape to fight curses once again.

“No, but thanks for the offer.” Satoru managed to glance up at the three of them once again, but it pained him to do so. “It was good seeing all of you, though. I better head home now.”

“Already?” Yuji frowned. “C’mon, Gojo. Just talk to us. Please.”

“What’s there to talk about, Yuji?”

“There’s plenty to talk about!” Yuji raised his voice, speaking louder than he intended, but luckily, the restaurant was isolated for the most part aside from an adorable elderly couple sharing a meatball sub, and the cashier, who started to wipe down the sandwich building station.

“If you don’t wanna become a sorcerer again, fine, but we can still help you.” Megumi stared into Satoru’s eyes. The younger sorcerer was secretly more upset than he let on, but Satoru could see the brokenness reflected in Megumi’s eyes as he started to speak. “You won’t eat your sandwich for some reason, so I’m guessing you’re struggling to eat anything at all. You’re not drunk right now, and yet, you still smell like alcohol. I’m willing to bet that you’re not actually trying to get home right now but to that bar down the street. Am I wrong? Not to mention — you look miserable.”

The silence was deafening.

Nobara thought about kicking Megumi under the table, but she didn’t.

“That was rude, Fushiguro,” Yuji mumbled under his breath, looking down at the table as he did so.

“I know, and I’m sorry, I really am, but kindness isn’t going to help him.” Although he was speaking to Yuji, Megumi’s eyes never glanced away from Satoru.

Satoru stared at Megumi with an expression his old student couldn’t recognize. It sent a shiver up his spine.

“Let me out, Nobara,” Satoru mumbled.

The young woman hesitated, flickering her eye between Yuji and Megumi to see what they wanted her to do. But, she truly couldn’t keep him there. What good would that do?

Nobara scooted out of the booth.

“Gojo, please don’t leave, just talk to us, we care about you,” Yuji's plea fell on deaf ears as Satoru started to make his way out of the door.

“We know you miss your family, but this isn’t how you handle it. Don’t leave . . .”

Satoru tuned out the rest of Megumi’s words.

Both Megumi and Yuji started to get up from their seats and follow their former teacher out of the door, but Nobara stopped them.

The look of sadness on her face spoke for her. It told them that there was nothing they could do. They couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to be helped.

The two sorcerers sat back down, and the three of them watched as Satoru left the restaurant and made his way down the street to the bar.

—

— TWO WEEKS AFTER THE REUNION —

SATURDAY

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to Ren, happy birthday to you!”

Your boy smiled happily as he leaned over his five-layer chocolate chip cookie cake and blew out his candles. The guests attending his eleventh birthday party all applauded.

“Did you make a wish?” A young girl with dark hair in a ponytail asked.

“Yeah. I made the greatest wish ever.” Ren grinned at his crush from school, a bit embarrassed to tell her what his wish was.

After all, when he blew out the candles, he had hoped that someday, your memories of Satoru would return.

The white-haired man walked up to Ren with a wide grin, wiping away his tears with his thumb. Satoru was wearing a colorful birthday hat, and he looked rather silly, but even so, he was excited to wear it.

“Are you ready to cut the cake?” Satoru grinned. “We can open presents after. How does that sound?”

“Sounds awesome,” Ren smiled back. “This is the coolest birthday I’ve ever had!”

Truth be told, he already had the number one thing he wanted. A dad.

But seeing the enormous pile of gifts in the corner of the venue was insanely cool as well.

The bright smile spreading across your son’s face made you grin too as you watched him interact with his father from a distance.

Satoru had planned Ren’s entire birthday party and didn’t hold back a single dollar when it came to making sure his boy had everything he wanted, from the cake that he started to slice into, to any gift he could ever ask for.

After all, the last birthday Satoru attended was when his boy turned three.

After a day of bowling and arcade games with his friends from school, they all met up with the parents and other adult guests at a local venue.

Blue and black video game themed decorations coated the entire place. His favorite songs blared softly through speakers as everyone ate the food served buffet-style and socialized with one another. During that time, Ren had met several unfamiliar people, such as his dad’s former students.

It might have been Ren’s birthday, but Satoru was just as happy. If the birthday hat wasn’t an obvious sign, then the constant photo-taking was. Every second, he was snapping a picture of his boy. He wanted to take a picture of you too, but he couldn’t build up the courage to ask.

From a short distance away, Satoru stared at you with those pretty blue eyes of his, watching as you chatted with Kento and Yuji.

He wished that he could say that the drinking had stopped once he found you again, that he no longer knew misery once you reentered his life, but that wasn’t true.

He was happy that you and Ren were alive, of course, but you didn’t remember him. And, if you didn’t remember him, then you didn’t love him anymore.

That hurt like hell.

His grief didn’t fade away, it only shifted focus.

But, even so, this was the happiest he had ever been since the great incident, and he managed to go five days without having any sort of alcohol as well.

About five minutes had passed before the conversation between you, Kento, and Yuji had ended. Satoru took that opportunity to approach you with a slice of cookie cake in hand, and with every step, his knees threatened to wobble. Hands almost started to shake.

He was nervous.

In that moment, he felt like his former teenage self who — despite his overly cocky attitude — had to spend months building up the courage to ask you out on a date.

It was the same thing all over again; he was trying to earn your affection.

Because if you couldn’t remember Satoru, then he’d simply have to win your heart all over again.

“Hey,” Satoru greeted, extending his arm as he handed you the paper plate with a slice of cake on it. “I had to fight three kids to get it, but I grabbed you a piece.”

With a soft laugh — one that Satoru missed hearing more than he could ever express — you took the plate from him.

“Thank you.” Grabbing the plastic fork, you took a bite. “And not just for the cake, but for helping out with the entire party. It means a lot.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.” Smiling shyly, Satoru put his hands in his pockets. “I’ve always spoiled him. I just can’t believe I have the chance to do it again.”

“That reminds me . . .” Suddenly, you turned around and sat the plate of cake down on a nearby table, and faced Satoru once again. “We haven’t had the time to talk about everything, and I’d really like to.”

You and Satoru both sat down at the round table, chairs turned to face one another.

For the past two weeks, conversation between you and him had amounted to nothing more than a few text messages being exchanged, all regarding Ren’s party.

After all, your boy was the only thing you both still had in common. Shared experiences and sweet memories no longer existed, and it wasn’t easy for you to get over your guilt, and for him to get over his heartbreak.

It wasn’t your fault that you couldn’t remember him — obviously. But, even so, the sight of his suffering — even though he tried his best to hide it — made a lump form in your throat whenever you thought about the pain your absence had brought. And your return did little to mend it, thanks to your amnesia. It only brought another form of suffering.

“Noa-I mean, Ren . . . has really adapted to his new life pretty well,” you smiled a bit. “Well, his old life, which is now his new life, or . . . you know what I’m trying to say. I heard him call your friend Uncle Kento earlier.”

“I heard that too. Kento couldn’t stop smiling, and he never smiles.”

A beat of silence passed. Even now, while you were both trying to focus on yourselves — on your own relationship with each other — You noticed that Ren was the main topic of the conversation.

“Ren was worried that you wouldn’t like him. Did you know that?”

“What?” Satoru frowned. “Why?”

“His limp,” you said. “He thought that you would be disappointed. He assumed that any father figure that would possibly appear would be upset to have a disabled son, and discovering that his dad was a sorcerer, and the strongest sorcerer at that, well, it just made him worry.”

“He doesn’t have to worry about that. I think he’s perfect.” Satoru glanced down at the floor, smiling to himself softly as he thought about his boy. But, then, he came to the same realization that you did earlier: Ren was the main focus of the conversation yet again.

“We should talk about ourselves, though.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Clearing your throat rather awkwardly, you pointlessly shifted in your seat. You waited for Satoru to say something — anything to kick the sensitive conversation off. He broke his staring contest with the floor and looked into your visible eye.

But he didn’t say anything.

His eyes darted away from yours, and then a second later, he made eye contact yet again.

And, somehow, you knew exactly what that look meant. You couldn’t pinpoint how you knew, not exactly, but you did.

The way he stared at you, looked away, and then glanced back at you . . . it was familiar.

“What’s wrong? I know that look.” You frowned a bit. “You look like you wanna ask me something.”

Satoru smiled sadly.

“How do you remember Ren, but you don’t remember me? We were a family. I was away a lot, but . . .”

The unreasonable guilt gnawed at your insides. You shifted in your seat again.

“I only remember Ren because he was with me every single day after the incident. After some time, old memories with him started to come back.”

“What about memories of the three of us?”

“Sometimes, I can remember another person being there, and I can remember feeling loved and cared for, but I can’t picture a face or remember a voice. It really sucks, and I’m sorry. I just don’t remember you, Satoru.”

Your last sentence snapped his heart into pieces — what wasn’t already shattered, at least.

As you could see the pain reflected in his eyes, you sat up a bit, and tried to make the situation a little bit less heartbreaking as you said, “but I could, eventually. Being around Ren is what jogged my memory of him, so, maybe, in time, being around you will do the same. And I’m willing to make new memories as well, you know what I mean?”

Satoru made a facial expression that you couldn’t recognize. His face was as blank as a fresh canvas.

“All that matters is that you’re both still alive,” he lied, giving a fake smile. “I’m starting to become okay with getting to know you all over again. It’s better than thinking you were dead.”

It wasn’t okay. Not in the slightest. He wanted his wife to remember him. He didn’t want to start his relationship over, as if you were both strangers, under the pressure to recapture a love that was now lost.

“Why would the higher-ups do something like that?” You suddenly asked. “Why would they lie to both of us?”

“I can think of plenty of reasons. But I’ll deal with them later.” Satoru clenched and unclenched his fist. He planned on handling those god-forsaken higher-ups soon enough, but right now, his family was his top priority.

Once again, Satoru made that familiar face. The face that told you he wanted to ask you something.

“What is it?” You questioned, tilting your head just a bit.

Suddenly, Satoru’s hands were sweaty, just like they were when he was a seventeen-year-old lovesick high schooler.

“Do you wanna go out with me? On a date?”

A bright smile spread across your face. You didn’t know it, but it was the same smile you gave him all those years ago when he asked the first time.

“I’d love to.”

Two hours later, Ren’s birthday party came to an end. He was certain that come Monday, his legendary event would be the hot topic at school.

That night, after tucking your son in and kissing him goodnight — although he playfully insisted that he was too old now to be treated like a baby — you left his bedroom and walked into your own, collapsing on your bed with a sigh.

You gave yourself about ten minutes to rest before getting back up to wash a couple of dishes, take a shower, and brush your teeth. And, as you got ready to go to bed, you only thought about one thing: your date with Satoru.

— WEDNESDAY —

Chicken stir fry and fresh vegetables sizzled in the hot skillet on the stove, the tantalizing aroma traveling throughout your cozy two-bedroom apartment. A short distance away, you could hear Ren playing video games in the living room, chatting with someone through his headset.

“We got second place! Good job — even though I had to protect you the entire time,” Ren paused, laughing softly as whoever was on the other end of the headset spoke.

“What? This is the third duo match where you got eliminated before I did. You can kill curses, but you can’t aim?” Ren laughed once again.

You found yourself curious about who your son was talking to. He certainly wasn’t friends with any sorcerers.

Giving your meal one quick stir, you turned the stove heat down to low.

“I gotta go, I think dinner’s almost ready,” Ren said. “Thanks for playing with me. I know you’re really busy, so . . . thanks. Bye.”

Ren took off his headset and turned off his PlayStation 5 — a sleek, white, and big console that Satoru had bought him for his birthday.

As you stepped into the living room, your son smiled up at you.

“Hey Mom,” he laid his dark blue controller on the couch cushion. “This game system is awesome. It’s digital too, so I don’t have to buy physical copies of games anymore.”

“Yeah, I saw that in the directions. That seems pretty cool, huh?” You grinned softly. “Who were you playing with just now?”

“Yuji,” Ren paused. “He likes video games too. We were playing Fortnite. He said I used to always try to take his phone and play games on it when I was a toddler.”

“Oh, really? That doesn’t surprise me.” Raising your eyebrows in surprise, your smile widened. “It was nice of him to play with you, though.”

For the college-aged sorcerer to take time out of his seemingly busy schedule to play video games with your son was kind of him.

“Dinner’s ready. Put your controller away and go wash your hands,” you said.

“Yes ma’am.”

A few minutes later, you and your son were sitting at the small dining table, eating dinner together as he rambled on adorably about his day at school.

“I have about a week or two to finish my science project, but Mrs. Willows paired me up with Mae.” Ren took a bite of his egg roll as he spoke.

“Is something wrong with that? Mae’s lovely. She’s your crush, isn’t she? This could be a great chance to get to know her.” You thought about the way your son blushed as he chatted with the young girl at his birthday party.

You took a sip of your water and noticed that Ren didn’t respond. In fact, he frowned and placed his bitten egg roll back on his plate.

You knew what was wrong without asking.

Aside from the fact that he didn’t want to discuss the topic of crushes and romance with his mother, he was also incredibly insecure. Mae was always kind to him — that much was true. But, at his age, girls often went for the boys who excelled in P.E. class, not the ones who had a limp and couldn’t keep up with the physically demanding sports.

If only he could be more like his father, and his father’s old students — that is what he must have been thinking.

Not only were they strong and powerful, but they went to a school created specifically for sorcerers.

He should have been preparing to attend Jujutsu High in a few years.

He should have been getting trained by his dad to fight curses and save lives.

That’s what he thought.

“I wish I could become a sorcerer,” he mumbled.

“Interesting thought,” your fork gently scraped against your plate as you stirred your food around. “Why do you want to be a sorcerer?”

“So I can fight curses and stuff like Dad used to do.” Ren paused. “You used to be one too.”

“And the fact that I can’t remember that is exactly why you shouldn’t want to be a sorcerer, honey. It’s too dangerous. Your dad quit for a reason.”

“Okay, okay . . . you don’t gotta talk me out of it. I couldn’t become one anyway.” Ren stared down at his plate. “I was just saying it would be kinda awesome to be special like everyone else. Even you’re special.”

You frowned sadly. Seeing your boy’s eyes glisten with sadness as the corners of his lips fell into a frown was simply too much. The sight of it broke your heart.

“Ren, you are special.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re my mom.”

“No, I’m not.” You stared at the eleven-year-old, trying your hardest to hide how much it hurt to listen to your child’s opinion of himself — both what he expressed through words, and what you knew he was thinking. “You don’t need to be a sorcerer to be special. You don’t need to be great at sports, either. You’re incredibly smart — and I know that because I see your report card — and more importantly, you’re kind too. Not many human beings are as good of a person as you are. Do you know how special you have to be to live in a cruel world like this, and only want to help others? And you’re loved too. Everyone who showed up to your birthday party was there because they adore you, and they don’t care if you have a limp or if you’re not playing sports or killing curses.”

You leaned over, ruffling your son’s head of white hair. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you, do you hear me? I wish you could see yourself the way everyone else sees you. The way I see you.”

Ren smiled softly.

He couldn’t deny that he was loved. The amount of presents he had received for his birthday — which you both struggled to carry into the apartment — was a telltale sign of that. The amount of hugs from teary-eyed strangers who were relieved that he was alive also confirmed that fact.

His friends had also treated him like family.

As he thought about all of it, picking up his fork and gathering a bite of food, he figured that, perhaps, he was worth loving.

“Oh, by the way,” you suddenly spoke up. “I’m closing the coffee shop at three tomorrow, so you don’t go there after school. You can go to your dad’s house if he isn’t busy, or maybe Avery’s. Unless you wanna take the school bus and come home. Up to you.”

“Why?” Ren blinked curiously, but he couldn’t hide his excited grin over potentially getting to see his dad again. Sorry, Avery.

“I have a couple of errands to run. Shopping. Hair appointment. Stuff like that.”

“What for?”

This time, you were the one who couldn’t hide your smile. You took another sip of your water, and calmly — despite the way your heart raced — you said, “I have a date with your dad this weekend, so I need to get ready.”

Both Ren’s smile and eyes widened with unspeakable joy.

While he was overflowing with excitement over his parents going out together, you were filled with nervousness over your upcoming date.

— SATURDAY —

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Satoru Gojo could barely move.

His limbs were unspeakably heavy as if his bones were made out of pure stone.

The bedroom light was too bright. His eyes squinted, but it did nothing to stop his pounding headache.

Kento’s footsteps back and forth from his closet to his dresser — attempting to put together a nice outfit — were too loud.

But Satoru’s negative thoughts were even louder.

“I can’t do this, Nanami.”

Kento stopped walking. He turned his head to face Satoru, frowning.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Trying to get her to fall in love with me. It’s like we’re seventeen years old again, going on our first date. I can’t do it.” The poor man wanted to cry, a lump forming his throat that made it difficult to speak.

“Would you prefer the alternative? Getting drunk in a bar, thinking she’s dead?” Kento grimaced over his own harsh words, thinking that he might have been too harsh. With a sigh, he stepped closer to Satoru’s bed. “Listen, I know it sucks, but at least you’re getting a second chance. Your family came back, Satoru. They came back. And she might not remember you, but at least she’s willing to make new memories. I don’t understand why you’re so nervous.”

“She’s not the same person that she was before the accident, and I’m not the same person either.”

Walking over to the center of the room, the blonde-haired man laid Satoru’s shirt across the ironing board as he listened to the sad guy speak.

“Well, I don’t think you should be worried about that,” Kento said in response as he ran the hot iron over the shirt, smoothing out every wrinkle. “She knows that everything you’ve done, and who you’ve become, was just a result of thinking you lost your family. The Y/N I know would never judge anyone for being depressed over something like that — and she hasn’t changed that much.”

“But I was more than just depressed.” Satoru looked up at Kento as he spoke. “I hurt innocent people. I spent the last seven years of my life in a bar, and all I want right now is a drink. And you’re right, she wouldn’t judge me. But that doesn’t mean she’d want to be with me, either. I just want a drink, just one goddamn drink.”

The sound of gentle steam being released from the iron and the swooshing noise it made as it went across Satoru’s fancy shirt was what filled the silence.

And, during that silence, Kento stared at Satoru with an unreadable facial expression, one that sent a chill up Satoru’s spine.

His best friend was always so intimidating.

“So that’s it, huh?” Kento suddenly spoke. “You got your family back, but you’re still going to drink yourself to death because it didn’t turn out exactly how you wanted it to?”

“You don’t know how it feels to be forgotten by your soulmate.”

“You’re right. I don’t. But I know it’s better than your soulmate being dead. I said it once, and I’ll say it again: you’re getting a second chance. Most people would kill to have their family come back, even if the love of their life had amnesia and their child couldn’t remember them either. And you’re going to throw it all away because-”

“Nanami, she doesn’t know me.” Satoru’s voice quivered. He stared into Kento’s eyes with a glassy, tearful gaze. Unbeknownst to him, he started to dig his nails into his palm hard to hurt himself. Hard enough to draw blood. “She doesn’t remember anything about me. She looks at me like I’m a stranger. Not only that, but all the pain I went through for all of those years was for . . . for nothing because she was alive this entire time and I had no idea. How can you say I got my family back when they don’t remember us ever being a family?”

Kento turned off the iron.

He approached Satoru, kneeled in front of him, and placed his scarred hand over Satoru’s — a hand that was only so scarred from having to pick up more outrageous missions due to Satoru’s absence from the sorcerer world.

“So, let’s say she did remember you, Satoru. What then?”

“What do you mean?”

“What would you have done if she did remember you? Because if I recall, your relationship wasn’t perfect. You were away a lot, and it broke her heart. If she could remember that, then you’d still be in a similar position to the one you’re in now, because either way, your relationship needs some serious work. Do you really want her to remember how long she had to wait each day for you to return home from your work trips? The special events and holidays you missed? Right now, you have a chance to start over. And, who knows? Starting your relationship over might turn out to be easier than trying to repair it ever would have.”

When Kento finished speaking, Satoru looked sad.

Heartbreakingly upset.

The sight of his frowning face and teary eyes made Kento’s heart ache. He was brutally honest, but even so, he spoke to his friend softly. With love and care.

But maybe he was still being a bit too cruel.

“Hey . . .” Kento softened his voice even more and tried to make Satoru look him in the eye, but Satoru avoided his gaze. “I know what you’re thinking, and you weren’t a bad husband, just a busy one. You had a lot of responsibilities and I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty about that. I’m sorry, Satoru. This is supposed to be a good day.”

Satoru nodded as a way of saying, “It’s okay.”

Kento sighed.

Standing up, he made his way towards Satoru’s bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and dampening it.

Then, he returned to his previous kneeled position in front of him. Gently, he dabbed the fresh scars decorating Satoru’s palm.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” His sudden question broke the silence, but that silence returned rather quickly, as Kento didn’t respond.

Not immediately, at least.

He spent a solid thirty seconds trying to figure out what to way.

“It’s like I said earlier. She knows who you are now and what you’ve done, and that hasn’t deterred her away yet, has it? And for all we know, she could be worried about the same thing too. You’ve both changed, and that’s okay.”

Kento finished cleaning the little blood stains off of Satoru’s pale skin. He removed the towel, and kindly, he said, “Come on. Time to get ready.”

—

Your knee-length dress was red. It was tighter than the clothes you wore regularly, but not too revealing — the perfect balance of classy and sexy.

Your heels clicked against your floor as you stepped into the bathroom, checking out your hair and makeup one last time.

After spraying a bit of perfume on your wrists and collarbone, it was time to grab your coat and purse, leave your apartment, and meet Satoru at the nice Italian restaurant in town.

Living in a safe, walkable town had its perks, certainly. But with every step you took, you couldn’t help but wonder if Satoru was just as nervous as you.

The sheer panic you felt — it made you want to cancel.

After all, he was handsome. He was the world’s strongest sorcerer, even if he was out of practice. He was the father to your boy. He had memories of you that he was looking to recapture or recreate — the pressure of it all didn’t help ease your misplaced guilt.

The incident wasn’t your fault, but even so, that familiar lump formed in your throat and couldn’t be swallowed down.

Your nerves didn’t begin to settle until you walked into the romantic, warmly, yet lowly lit restaurant and spotted Satoru.

When he smiled at you, it felt . . . familiar.

A wave of calmness washed over you, and you exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

As you made your way to your table — Satoru getting up to pull out your chair for you, like the gentleman he was — you were feeling relaxed.

You couldn’t recall any specific memory, but somehow, you remembered that you had done this a hundred times with him.

Dinner began with a complimentary bread basket and nervous compliments being exchanged.

Five minutes in, you smiled softly at your lost lover.

“So, what was our very first date like when we were younger?”

Your question made Satoru smile too. He took a sip of his water, glancing at the white tablecloth as his mind wondered back to the sweet, cherished memory.

“It was similar to this, kinda. We had dinner together. It was an Italian restaurant as well, but it wasn’t nearly as nice. You, uh, you wore red then too. I remember you saying that you wanted Alfredo, but you ordered spaghetti in case you spilled it on your clothes.”

The look of love in his eyes as he spoke about the past made your heart skip a beat.

“Oh, I get it,” you nodded slowly. “Red sauce would blend in with the red clothes. Seems like something I’d say. I can’t believe you can remember something like that.”

“What’s funny is that I was the one who ended up spilling something,” Satoru paused. “I knocked over the bread basket when I was reaching for my drink.”

“Really?“ leaning forward a bit, your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke. “For a guy with the four-eyes thing, you’re pretty clumsy.”

“Six Eyes, and I’m not that clumsy. I was just nervous. Even now, years later, you still make me nervous.”

You leaned back in your seat. Your eye glistened with a peculiar kind of sadness — an expression that Satoru didn’t recognize.

“No need to be nervous,” slowly, your beautiful smile faded away. “I’m down one finger and an eye, and this facial scar isn’t doing me any favors. I’m not worth all the effort and worry.”

Satoru stared at you.

A look of insecurity. That was your unfamiliar expression.

He furrowed his brows, the corners of his mouth drawn downward as he put his laminated menu on the table.

“You decided to quit being a sorcerer the minute you found out that you were pregnant with Ren, but before that, you and I went on a mission together to exercise some curses inside of a mall. It wasn’t an easy mission either. I was exhausted, and you were injured. A curse was about to attack you — you had your back turned, trying to treat a civilian’s wound — and I jumped in the way to save your life.” Satoru started to fiddle with the cloth napkin lying next to his menu. “I was fine. I killed the curse. But you were angry with me for getting in harm’s way. You said to me then what you just said now — that you aren’t worth the effort and worry. And that’s not true at all. You’re worth everything to me.”

“You saved my life once?” The sad gaze in your eye softened into a look of pure admiration. “That’s so . . . I mean . . . until recently, my entire life has revolved around my son and my coffee shop. And then you appeared, along with these old friends I can’t remember having, and now I’m always hearing wild stories about me fighting curses and being madly in love with you. It’s crazy.”

You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t believe another human being loved you this much, in such a romantic way.

The waitress appeared — a kind woman with red hair who jotted down your orders in a tiny notepad. You ordered pasta, and Satoru couldn’t help but smile.

Certain aspects of you have changed forever, but some things still stayed the same.

Once the waitress walked away with your noted order of fettuccine alfredo and his order of ravioli, you shifted in your seat, sighing softly.

“I have another question, and I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while.” Cluelessly, you blinked at Satoru. “What was our marriage like?”

Satoru’s blue eyes shifted away from yours. Truth be told, he considered lying for a moment.

“It was perfect. We were perfect,” he would have said. “I was always there, and we were always happy.”

He could see the satisfied grin on your face now.

But he couldn’t lie to you. If he won your heart back with a string of lies, he would never forgive himself.

The honest truth wasn’t the perfect fairytale love story that you both would have hoped for, but it was good enough, as what really mattered — what was undoubtedly the most important thing — was that you both loved each other deeply.

“We were pretty young when we got married,” Satoru started, staring at you. “We were young when we did everything, actually. Not just getting married, but moving in together and starting a family too. All we knew was that we wanted to be together. We had movie and dinner nights every other Saturday, but it was hard being a husband, father, and sorcerer. I was away often, and you were always worried about whether or not I’d make it home. You wanted me to quit, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t think anything bad would ever happen to me, and I needed to protect non-sorcerers and mentor my students. It got to a point where I started to miss important events, and you weren’t happy with me. I wasn’t happy with myself either. My very last mission was a few weeks before Christmas. You begged me not to go because you said you had a terrible feeling about it. I just thought that you wanted me to stay home for our holiday traditions. We got into a big argument that night, and I left anyway, telling you that I’d be home before Christmas Day. I felt horrible about it, so I finished up my mission quickly and came home about two weeks early to surprise you. That was when the incident happened.”

Your initial silence made Satoru worry. He looked at you, trying to read the look on your face — attempting to stare into your visible eye and take a peek inside of your brain and see what thoughts were circulating in there.

The quietness was deafening. It was almost worse than you saying that you were no longer interested in rekindling your love, because the silence provided no answers. No closure.

Satoru started to involuntarily shake his leg underneath the table. He so desperately wanted a drink.

“Oh. . .” You finally spoke up, but your empty words, ridden with disappointment, offered little relief.

“I’m sorry,” Satoru said softly, briefly staring down at his half-empty water, the dots of condensation among the glass dripping onto the white tablecloth. “I know it’s not . . . I’m probably not what you were hoping for, but I loved you more than anything. Please believe that.”

Suddenly, that soft smile that Satoru once fell in love with reappeared on your face. Reaching across the table, you grabbed ahold of his hand — the one that was fidgeting with the napkin. You ran your thumb across his fingers.

“Satoru, if there’s one thing that my condition has taught me, it’s that the past doesn’t matter as much as we think it does. I just wanted to know because of plain curiosity, okay? I’m interested in our future and the man you are now.”

This time, following a small sigh of relief, Satoru was the one who smiled. It was the grin that you once fell in love with, even if you couldn’t remember ever doing so.

The date was filled with soft laughter, delicious pasta, and heartwarming stories.

You and Satoru sat at the dining table long after your meals were eaten and paid for. As the hours flew by, other couples and families coming and going, you both didn’t leave until the employees started stacking chairs and mopping the floors.

Together, you both walked down the street of your cozy little town, grinning down at your shoes stepping on the fallen orange and brown leaves covering the sidewalk.

“So, where’s Ren? Is he at home or . . . ?” Satoru questioned.

“He’s sleeping over at his friend’s house.” You put your hands in the pockets of your jacket. “That reminds me. He came up with an idea the other night, and I wanted to run it by you.”

“What is it?”

“A family dinner,” you glanced up at Satoru. “Just us three, sitting around a table, all having a meal together. The whole domestic vibe. What do you think?”

“I’d love that.” With a smile, Satoru started to blush a little.

“Okay, great. I’m thinking seafood, maybe? Hm . . . I don’t know. Kinda don’t feel like dealing with an apartment that smells like shrimp and crab. You know what? I’ll just open a window and spray some Febreze, it’ll be fine. Seafood it is. You’re not allergic, are you?”

Listening to you ramble made Satoru’s heart pound rapidly. It made him want to kiss you and mourn your lost years. But he couldn’t let on the effect that you had on his mind, body, and soul, even if you knew how he felt.

He had to keep all of that inside and remind himself that to you, he wasn’t the love of your life, but a mere friend.

“I’m not allergic. I love seafood, or all kinds of food, really.” Satoru glanced up at the stars for a moment, thinking about how over the last few years, eating was a chore. He went from being a food lover to a man who had to be forced to eat. But now that you reappeared back into his life, so had his love of all things sweet, spicy, and savory.

You brought back the parts of him that were human.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Satoru suddenly spoke up.

“Of course.”

“Have you . . . had any other partners? Since the incident?”

Your shoulder gently bumped against his arm as you both walked. Based on the tone of his voice, he hadn’t asked you that question out of jealousy per se, but curiosity.

“A few, but nothing that lasted very long. Mostly fantasy-obsessed weirdos who just wanted to brag about dating someone who wears an eyepatch, like I’m a fictional character or a damn pirate or something. But, uh, what about you?”

Satoru laughed a bit, but not humorously.

“Nope. I could barely function like a normal human being, let alone be in a relationship.”

He didn’t mean to make that burden of guilt reappear.

Catching a glimpse of you staring at the ground, he opened his mouth to apologize, but you started to speak before he could do so.

“I hate knowing that I caused you so much pain. I should have done something. I should have never let the higher-ups force me to start a new life, or at least, I should have tried to figure out who Ren’s father was. I’m sorry.”

Satoru grabbed your hand. He didn’t think it through — didn’t pause to wonder if such a display of affection was okay, but you didn’t seem to mind. Your warm fingers curled around his.

He couldn’t wait to tell Kento about it.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, okay?” Satoru stared at you, paying no mind to anything that might have been in front of his walking path. “I picked working for people who would destroy my life at any given chance over my own family. None of this would have happened if I had been home like I should’ve been. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

At this hour, all of the small, local businesses were closed, cute little brown buildings showcasing nothing but darkness when you glanced through their windows as you strolled by.

However, one place was still open.

It was the bar.

Walking past it, you held Satoru’s hand a little tighter.

The white-haired man couldn’t see it, but as he made his way by the entrance doors, the bartender could see his former customer walking by with a small, sober grin.

The bartender smiled to himself as he washed a glass.

He was incredibly happy for that man, and he hoped to never get another dollar from him again.

“So what happens now?” Your sudden question made Satoru hum in response and tilt his head a bit. Continuing, you asked, “Are you going to go back to being a sorcerer?”

“No,” Satoru shook his head. “I passed the torch on to my students a while ago, and I think they’ll be just fine.”

As you both unhappily arrived closer and closer to your apartment, a sad frown appeared on Satoru’s face. He didn’t want the date to end. He wanted to keep walking with you forever.

Letting you go with the promise of seeing you again soon never came easy after the incident.

Your footsteps clicked against the hard ground as you made your way to your front door. With a shy smile, you turned and faced the white-haired man.

“Thanks for walking me home. I’d invite you inside, but it’s getting late, and I have to head to my coffee shop in the morning. I was able to get a few bookshelves put in. Can you believe it?” Digging through your purse for your house keys, you smiled at Satoru. “I just gotta spend my Sunday actually putting books on the shelves now before we open on Monday. Boxes are sitting everywhere right now.”

“I’m happy for you,” Satoru said. He couldn’t help but wonder if this newfound passion for books, coffee, and entrepreneurship came after the incident, or if you were always interested in such things, and he never noticed.

He would have bought you a two-story bookstore and coffee shop years ago if that was the case. Was that always your dream and you kept it hidden from him? Why? Did it have anything to do with having to raise Ren and run the house while Satoru was off fighting curses and training his students?

He wanted to ask — and he almost did, his lips parting a bit — but he knew you wouldn’t remember. You wouldn’t have an answer.

“You should stop by sometime!” Your smile brightened. “Do you like coffee? You seem like the kinda guy who’d like something on the sweeter side . . . a mocha, maybe?”

Satoru couldn’t help but lovingly mimic your bright smile, his eyes flickering from your eye to your lips, and his heart skipped a beat.

Most people would assume that a guy like Satoru hated sweets. Back when he was a sorcerer, others figured that he avoided sweets and sugary things to keep himself as healthy as possible. Truthfully, though, he was the kind of person who would have dessert for every meal if he could. Both because it helped energize his overactive mind, and because he simply had a sweet tooth.

But you knew.

Was it something you remembered, or was it nothing more than a lucky guess?

Satoru couldn’t say. You couldn’t say.

However, no one could deny that your old personality was starting to return while in his presence. You had never known yourself to be the kind of person to ramble on and on, but here you were, spending your night talking so much that your jaw had started to ache.

After one proper evening together, the gorgeous man was bringing out a side of you that you had never known — or, perhaps, had forgotten.

“You could serve me a cup of toilet water and I’d drink it,” Satoru said with a gentle, brief chuckle. “But yeah, I have a sweet tooth.”

“So I was right.” You paused. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later.”

The smile on his face faltered as uncertainty flooded his mind, as he didn’t know how to properly say goodbye. You held hands earlier, and you had hugged once before, but should he initiate one now? Should he shake your hand? No . . . too professional. The last thing he wanted was for your reblossoming relationship to amount to that of a business transaction.

He decided to play it safe. He mumbled a quick goodnight, gave you a soft smile, and started to walk away.

“Wait,” you called out.

With a little hum of confusion, his brows raising slightly, he turned and faced you.

Reaching up, your hands gripped his shoulder, pulling the taller man down a bit before planting a soft kiss on his cheek, which instantly reddened the second your lips came in contact with his soft skin.

“Goodnight,” you mumbled.

When your face was still a whisper away from his own, Satoru kissed your cheek back.

It was a subconscious act — as natural breathing. You’d kiss his cheek, and he’d kiss yours back.

“You used to kiss my cheek all the time.” He pulled away from you, blushing.

“Really?” You wrapped your fingers around your house key, turning towards your door briefly to place it in the lock. Looking back at him as you twisted it, you said, “That’s probably why I wanted to do it now. It just felt right, I guess. I don’t normally kiss my dates on the cheek.”

“Right, well,” Satoru, once again, started to walk away. “Goodnight.”

That night — after soaking in the bathtub and texting Satoru to make sure he got home safely, although you felt silly doing so, being that he was the most powerful man in the world — you rested your head against your pillow and started to drift off to sleep.

In that state, in which it felt as if your mind, body, and soul were stuck somewhere between falling asleep and staying awake, Satoru’s face appeared in your mind.

Only — he was younger.

He wore dark sunglasses, and a dorky smile, cheeks pink as he blushed . . .

“Y/N!” He called out, waving for you to come over and join him where he stood in a shady spot underneath a big tree.

As you approached him, the cocky teenager put his hands in the pockets of his school uniform, trying his hardest to seem cool and calm. But despite his best efforts, he was still a blushing mess.

“Hey,” you greeted politely, smiling up at your tall classmate. “Everything alright? I’m gonna be late for training.”

“Y-Yeah,” he awkwardly cleared his throat following his stutter — which made him wish that the ground would somehow open up and swallow him whole to ease his embarrassment. “I just . . . wanted to say hi. I’m sorry I didn’t call you after our date. Well, I did, but I hung up before you answered because I got nervous. Not-not that I normally get nervous or anything, I’m pretty chill, but it was late and I didn’t know if you wanted to talk, or if you’d think I was weird for calling you after we had just hung out. I’m not weird, I promise. I’m not as cocky as everyone says I am, either. I’m just a normal person. You’re not, though. I-I mean, you’re normal, but you’re really strong and pretty, you know what I mean? So, uh . . . yeah.”

An amused grin appeared on your face. Meanwhile, Satoru’s own face reddened even more with every shaky word he spoke. The gifted sorcerer couldn’t look you in the eye.

“You’re adorable,” you chuckled softly, watching as he fidgeted around, unable to stand still in your presence. “And it’s okay. You make me kinda nervous too.”

Your eye darted away from him. Satoru glanced down at your hand and saw that you were fiddling with the end of your sleeve.

“Do you wanna go out with me again?” Satoru’s words were rushed, rolling off of his tongue and falling from between his lips much quicker than he wanted.

“I’d love to.” Your sweet smile made Satoru’s heart skip a beat. Glancing down at your watch, you said, “I gotta go, but maybe we can have lunch together tomorrow. Diner down the street?”

“Okay, that’s cool,” Satoru couldn’t fight the urge to grin, his cheeks starting to burn. “I’ll see you later.”

You started to walk away, but suddenly, your footsteps came to a halt. Turning back around to face a puzzled Satoru, you approached him once again, motioned for him to lean down, and you planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Bye,” you grinned.

Satoru couldn’t speak. Your lips touching his red, blushy cheek had seized his ability to communicate like a normal human being. His body froze, his throat dried to a crisp, and his overactive mind was incapable of forming a coherent thought.

As he watched you start to walk away, eventually snapping out of his trance, he shouted, “Wait!”

The happy teenager leaned down and quickly kissed your cheek. Then, he ran off to locate his best friend, Suguru Geto, eager to tell the dark-haired boy about the heartwarming interaction he just had with the woman he was certain he’d marry someday.

—

— THURSDAY —

Less than a week has passed since your wonderful evening with Satoru. During that time, your coffee shop was now a fully operational bookstore as well. You and Satoru stayed in your shop well past closing hours, sipping on beverages and chatting. On Tuesday night, you, him, and Ren enjoyed seafood and board games.

It was wonderful.

Spending time with him often led to dreams when your eye fluttered shut and the moon was shining through your curtains.

However, the dreamlike images of that beautiful man didn’t feel like dreams at all.

And your therapist agreed.

She suggested that, perhaps, they were memories.

But there was only one way to truly differentiate between what was real and what wasn’t.

And that was by asking Satoru. Only he could tell you if the beautiful scenarios that appeared were missing pieces of a life you had forgotten.

That Thursday, the setting sun began to darken the baby blue sky, and faint stars appeared above the school in which a science fair was taking place.

In the big school gym, several students had their artistic projects on display for judges and parents to walk around and admire. Ren and Mae had created a presentation about power and electricity.

He looked so proud as he stood there, pointing at several different wires surrounded by Mae’s detailed drawings of lightning bolts, explaining the scientific process to curious guests.

However, what he was proud of more than anything was his mother and father, who stood behind the group of judges and parents and snapped pictures of him. The young boy would occasionally dart his eyes away from the crowd of strangers admiring his presentation and smile at his parents.

He had two of them.

A mother and a father.

Later on, as the judges gathered to discuss the winners of the science fair, Ren walked off to chat with his group of friends. While everyone had to create a project for a class grade, submitting it to the science fair was completely optional. Only true science-loving geniuses took it that far. Even so, Ren’s friends — the ones who attended his birthday party — all showed up to support him. They didn’t know a thing about science beyond what they could scribble on a ripped sheet of paper and hide under their sleeves during tests, but they knew one thing: they wanted to be there for your boy.

Approaching Satoru with a white paper cup of water, you smiled at him softly.

“Hey, do you have a minute? Can we talk outside?”

“Of course,” Satoru matched your smile with a grin of his own. Even if he was busy, he’d make time for you now. Always.

Walking through the see-through doors and stepping outside into the darkening surroundings was a nostalgic experience. It was an entirely different school, but hearing crickets chirp and seeing families walking home after their own events ended as the falling sun finished off another beautiful day reminded Satoru of your after-class walks from way back when.

He faced you with a look of curiosity.

“What’s up?”

“I was just wondering . . . do you remember what our second date might have been like?”

Satoru’s eyes darted up at the stars for a moment — he remembered, of course.

“Uh, yeah. I’m pretty sure I remember every date. Why?”

“Just curious,” you lied. The last thing you wanted to do was give him hope that your memory was returning, only for it to turn out to be nothing more than a pointless dream.

“We planned it right when we saw each other in person again after our first date. I was nervous and apologetic about not calling you the night before — either I was nervous or I forgot, I’m not sure — but we went to a nearby diner, one close to the school.”

You shifted your stance a bit, much too excited to stand completely still. Could it have been a coincidence?

“I think I might have remembered that.” As you spoke, Satoru’s eyes widened. “I had a dream — or I thought it was a dream, but it felt too real. We were standing outside of a school, wearing uniforms. We were both still so nervous around each other, but you were rambling a bunch, and . . . I’ve just been having a lot of similar dreams like that lately. To know that they actually might have been memories . . . I can’t believe it.”

“Wh-What else do you remember? What were the other dreams about?”

You went on to describe what you had seen.

Satoru’s eyes started to water as you recalled some of your shared memories. The stars appearing in the sky above seemed brighter.

Although you couldn’t remember everything, for now, it was enough.

“I know it’s not a lot, but those little memories are something I’ll hold onto forever. Some of them came back, and I don’t plan on letting them go anytime soon,” you said. “I might not remember our first kiss or every anniversary, but I’m starting to remember how it felt to love you.”

Satoru’s world stopped. It was a feeling similar to the day he first found you and Ren at that one grocery store.

It was a combination of shock and love running through his veins.

Satoru’s large hands cupped your cheeks. Slowly, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours.

Satoru lost you once. Then, you reappeared. However, kissing you softly, yet passionately in this moment is what led Satoru’s soul to believe that he had finally found you.

Your sweet lips moved against his with a familiar pattern one would only have while kissing their soulmate. Even if your mind had forgotten much, your soul knew. It just knew.

The entrance doors belonging to the school opened and closed. Parents were heading back inside after ending phone calls or smashing their cigarette butts because the awards ceremony was about to start according to their watches.

Sadly, you and Satoru had to pull away, breathlessly, though, and after reuniting for two or three more little kisses.

“I’m starting to get jealous of the old me who used to kiss you like that every day,” your beaming smile was too cute.

“No reason to be jealous, you can still do it every day if you want to,” Satoru’s face was only inches away from yours as he spoke.

“Well, come on, let’s go see if our boy won first place. We can talk about our new every day later,”you said, grabbing ahold of Satoru’s hand.

You led him back into the school, where Ren would later accept his first-place trophy.

As the three of you celebrated his victory — together, as it should be — being a family started to become your new every day.

—

— TWO YEARS LATER —

White dresses and fancy cakes were on your mind, the old, sweet memory of walking down the aisle, glancing up at your teary-eyed husband, had recently come back to you in great detail.

You could taste the classic vanilla cake flavor on your tongue. Smell the special cologne Satoru wore that day. Feel the swaying rhythm of the song played during your first dance.

Today, as you drove your thirteen-year-old to school with him in the passenger seat — the middle school was too far of a walk compared to the elementary school — you touched the knob of your radio and turned up the music a few notches.

“What song is this?” Ren questioned, listening to the unfamiliar ballad.

“I think it’s a song from my wedding. I’ll have to ask Satoru later.”

Ren smiled. Another potential memory was unlocked.

“I’m also hoping he can take you to get a haircut tomorrow because I gotta-”

“Whaaat? No, Mom, no haircut, okay?”

“Since when do you not like haircuts?” You made a swift right turn as you spoke.

Ren scratched the side of his white hair, feeling his growing strands.

“I’m trying to grow it out until it looks like Dad’s, so not too long, but a little longer than it is now. Plus, Mae said that she likes longer hair. Oh, and can you take us to the movies Friday? I forgot to ask earlier.”

“Sure,” you agreed with a soft smile.

Your son and Mae had officially been dating for about a year, and it was beyond adorable.

Turning into the drop-off lane in front of the school, you pulled Ren’s packed lunch out of the backseat, along with his backpack. He was a growing boy — a realization that brought both you and Satoru to tears — and, naturally, his stomach was a bottomless pit right now.

“Bye Mom,” Ren started to open his car door but paused. “By the way, I hope you and Dad get remarried soon.”

And with that final thought, he closed the door and limped away.

—

Three days later, Satoru proposed.

Just like he once did years ago, Kento helped him out with planning the details of a perfect proposal.

It was in a beautiful, forestry area lit up with fairy lights — a gorgeous local walking trail you both strolled down together often.

He got down on one knee. Pulled out a mesmerizing ring. Cheeks red from being nervous, an emotion only you could bring out of the extroverted man.

There was no greater joy than when you wrapped your arms around him after saying yes.

God, he loved you. He loved you, and he loved you.

And, once again, you had promised to spend the rest of your life with him, because, god, you loved him. You loved him, and you loved him.

Satoru kissed you deeply after you accepted his proposal, tears streaming down his face.

“This ring isn’t just an engagement ring.” Satoru’s lips hovered over yours as he whispered, “It’s also a promise ring, too. Because I promise you that I’ll be the husband you deserve this time around. You were always so scared back then of falling in love with someone you could lose, and I’m letting you know now that I’m here, and you’ll never lose me to anything, especially a career path. You couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried.”

“Don’t worry, the past doesn’t define us as much as we think it does, trust me. You, me, and Ren are going to be just fine, okay?” You ran your thumb across his blushing cheek. He was so beautiful. “Let’s just focus on our future. On our every day.”

Satoru kissed you softly, mumbling a subtle, “Okay.”

He had his worries, but whenever your lips touched his cheek, and his lips touched your cheek, he had a gut feeling that, perhaps, everything would be alright.

—

— DECADES LATER —

“This color looks pretty, Grandma.”

Your eldest granddaughter gently rubbed one of her favorite lipsticks across your lips. “Brings out your eyes.”

“I only have one, honey, but thank you.”

Softly, she laughed. Growing up, she loved hearing the made-up stories about how you got your eyepatch. You being a pirate on an adventure to save captured mermaids was her favorite tale as a child.

She was Ren’s and Mae’s firstborn, the oldest amongst their three children, and the only girl. Your granddaughter was sweet and kind enough to help you get ready for a family brunch.

Ren, who was in his forties now, stepped through the front door of his lovely home with his wife and two sons.

He walked into the living room and greeted you briefly as he kissed your forehead before heading into the kitchen and sitting down a big brown bag filled with groceries.

Then, several more kisses followed from your fellow cherished family members.

You smiled with pride. Ren was a successful surgeon who married his childhood sweetheart and had created a beautiful family.

Suddenly, you frowned.

“What’s wrong?” Your youngest grandson asked, tilting his head a bit.

“Where’s Satoru?”

You glanced around for your husband. You missed him. Where did he go?

Your granddaughter held your hand.

“He’s in the bathroom, remember? He left a few minutes ago. He’ll be right back.”

You gave an unsatisfied nod.

Memory loss has always been a struggle for your entire life. Be it object permanence as a baby, amnesia as an adult, or plain ‘ole forgetfulness as an elder.

But at least you remembered love.

That much was obvious when Satoru returned to the living room, eyes crinkly as he smiled, and your mood suddenly changed into complete and utter happiness.

“You look pretty,” Satoru ran his hand across your cheek. “That’s lipstick, hm?”

“Brings out my eye,” you joked.

As Satoru took a seat next to you on the couch, Mae shouted from the kitchen, “Hey, come help us.”

Your three grandchildren left the living room to assist their parents, leaving you and Satoru alone to enjoy each other’s company by chatting and watching TV until brunch was ready.

He had his arm wrapped around you, his body heat warming your entire soul. There was no greater joy than being with him.

That night, you and Satoru were snuggled up underneath your thick comforter, facing each other in bed.

“After all these years, you still make me nervous,” Satoru said, staring into your eye, his cheeks becoming the faintest shade of pink.

With a warm smile, you slowly kissed Satoru’s cheek. He kissed yours.

You touched a strand of his gray hair. Then, your lovely, wrinkly fingers graced his cheek, the warm lighting from his bedside table lamp highlighting his aged, beautiful face.

“Thank you . . . for another great day, and for all the memories. I love you, Satoru.”

A little yawn escaped you. As you drifted off to sleep, Satoru mumbled, “I love you too, Y/N.”

In time, you will once again start to lose all of your memories. Slowly, it will all fade as you grow older and get closer to your impending demise. Satoru had grown to accept that expected outcome. However, this time around, if you passed on before the retired sorcerer, he wouldn’t be a sad man stuck in a bar, mourning. He would be at your bedside, holding your hand and kissing your cheek.

Then, he’d wait for the day in which he too would pass on and join you in the place of eternal happiness and rest, where, finally, both of your souls would be at peace after what happened.

♡ — 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠!

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safaia-47 · 5 months

Text

Awww, throughout the years🪷

°୨୧ INEVICABLY, UNDENIABLY

+ gojo satoru x f!reader | wc 3.3k | content: fluff, modern au, friends to roommates to lovers, timeskip thing; from high school -> adulthood, alcohol, implied sex, children, marriage, gojo is mostly clingy and annoying and we love him for it, the years and age correspond to his actual birthdate, take this as my birthday fic for him <3

summary: despite seemingly having it all, gojo satoru’s goal has always been the same all these years you’ve known him—all he wants in life is you, and only you. during his birthday this year, gojo counts his blessings.

2006; seventeen.

the day you agreed to be satoru’s partner in homeroom class is the day you signed away your sanity. not because satoru’s hard to get along with or that he’s rude or slacks off, but because it’s hard not to fall for a boy with such pretty eyes and even prettier lips who likes to say the most beautiful things.

getting to know satoru is like taking a deep in the clearest, coldest ocean after an entire lifetime of being dipped in molten lava. he’s annoying, refreshing and eye-opening all in one.

satoru shows promise in the first lesson, doing fairly well at cooking and sowing, although afterwards he just falls off because you end up having to teach him how to properly use alcohol in his cooking so he doesn’t burn himself or that you’d end up patching his fingers up since he accidentally pokes himself a lot more than the average human would.

still, it’s not his fault he isn’t naturally talented in the home economics department. he is in sports, you find out, after a few months of being in the same class as him.

“hey, y/n.” he’s leaning back on his chair, depending on its hind two legs for support. it’s become his habit during class to bother you whenever the teachers aren’t in.

you were assigned the seat diagonally behind him, and it’s become a habit for you to ignore him—mostly because most of the time, it’s nonsense that falls out of those lips, especially after you’d gotten close. it’s his sign of affection, you realise.

“hey y/n, i’m being serious this time, i need to talk to you,” satoru whines, pouting and sighing in that over dramatic way that only he can.

that’s also not the first time he’s tricked you into acknowledging him so all you do is look at him, a smile appearing that you failed to suppress, and bring a finger to your lips, signalling for him to hush.

unperturbed, satoru smirks and gets to scribbling on a piece of paper, folding it (annoyingly and quickly) into a swan before handing it to you. he winks at you, and you’re immediately driven not to give him satisfaction by reading it. instead, you bow slightly and stuff it in your pencil case, making satoru pout again and giving yourself the sweet taste of victory.

the rest of your sophomore year in high school, you find yourself growing closer to satoru, an unfamiliar feeling growing inside of you. you find that you like knowing what makes him tick, and even the way he says your name, or even watching him ace every kind of sport and then having him blow a teasing kiss to you after each win.

“y/n, i’m so jealous of you, how’d you manage to get gojo satoru of all people?” one of your classmates whine, swooning endlessly over him.

you only laugh it off, deigning to think too much of it.

it’s weird; he’s most of the schoolgirls’ crushes, but you’ve never considered him to be yours. maybe it’s just a fleeting feeling that will go away with the test of time.

yeah, that should be all that is.

2007; eighteen.

“why not? we’re practically going to the same college.”

with time, you thought that maybe satoru would become a little more sane. like how growing into adults, you slowly shed the ridiculous dreams you had as a child. but he’s not, if not—he’s even more insane.

“we haven’t got the results yet, satoru.”

“i’m pretty sure we’ll get in though.”

“and what’s your basis for that?”

“i’m never wrong about these.”

as always, satoru lives in his own little bubble and you can’t help but to sigh. in his head, both of you will get into that same college you applied for and he has it all planned out: “we get into college, sign up for whatever classes, and then rent an apartment together—genius right?”

that was satoru just moments ago, elbows leaned over the grocery cart as he grins at you, beaming like a dog waiting for their owner’s approval. now he’s still doing the same, except you’ve flicked him on the forehead before turning your attention to the aisles because apparently, he says he hates the food at home and would rather have what you’re cooking.

he’s made it his life mission to invade your meals over the weekend, squeezing himself into your family, bonding with your sibling and your parents and only then did you realise what you forgot in the first place: satoru is one of the most charming people to ever walk the earth. your siblings constantly ask about the next time he’s coming over, and your parents are just waiting for you to announce that he’s your boyfriend—which he’s not, but he sure likes to make it seem that way.

another thing you notice about satoru thanks to your now-weekly grocery runs: he likes to wander around way too much, and complains afterwards when he finds you after losing you.

“y/n!”

it’s like routine by now; the way satoru rushes over to you, putting his arm around your shoulder and sticking his cheek against yours, telling you how he almost died because he thought he lost you—like the drama queen he is. by now, all you can offer him is a ruffle of his hair before you carry on like normal, as though your heart isn’t beating right out of your chest from that simple proximity.

because satoru, despite his generally icy look, is always warm; his body heat, his cheeks, the way he looks into your eyes all the time, even his fingertips when they brush against you.

you think he’s especially warm when he falls asleep beside you after watching a late night movie, his head nuzzled in your neck, hands somehow rested over your own. your favourite thing about the friendship, though, try as you might to deny it, is how satoru’s hands always find yours when he walks you home, fingers lacing around your own as if it’s second nature.

ever since then, these routines have become a staple, and perhaps even does your growing feelings. the inexplicable one.

2008; nineteen.

satoru was right.

both of you did get into the same university, and the same course, with different minors so at least there’s some differences. so of course, satoru did not let the shared apartment idea go. though, of course, thanks to your initial hesitance on the matter, the only available apartment is a 4-bedroom, entirely too big and hence you’d convinced satoru to just rent the other bedrooms out for extra change.

and no, satoru does not need extra change because his family’s loaded (which you realised you didn’t even know before this) but at least this would allow you to not dwell on whatever you’re feeling too much. university is going to be stressful enough without the added consideration of your possible feelings towards satoru.

then enters geto suguru—your new roommate who, thankfully, steals enough of satoru’s attention so you have some breathing room. turns out, they’re like two peas in a pod. but while you and satoru major in business, suguru majors in psych. so that still means satoru’s around just you most of the time.

some routines change; like how movie nights are shared amongst the three of you in the living room instead of just you and satoru in your room. or how during grocery runs satoru still runs up to you when he finds you again except this time, an exasperated suguru is beside you sighing at him, always a “how do you stand this guy?” rolling off his tongue. the most surprising one for you might be how meals include suguru now and satoru’s the one who does the cooking now, and funnily enough, he’s absolutely great at it. no ounce of hesitation as he flips the pancakes, or stirs the fried rice—no whining about how it’s too hard because he’ll get burns on his fingertips and has to ask you to tend to his wounds.

but some change in a different way. they leave no room for someone else, like how satoru always finds your hands to hold on to, keeping you within a reach too close to pass as just friends but both of you refusing to label it anything else anyways. it leaves no room for other people to butt in and whisk either of you away.

and for now, at least, both of you are okay with just that.

2009; twenty.

participating in different activities and clubs inevitably mean that you and satoru wouldn’t be attached at the hip most of the time. and of course, while that leads to satoru becoming even clingier when you’re both home (not that you’re complaining when it’s nice to feel wanted from the very guy you’re completely not having a crush on), both of you are in separate social circles.

satoru occasionally has his friends over, the ones you don’t really know that well. the one where you can only remember names like haibara because he’s extra friendly and yuki because she’s one of the prettiest people you’d ever seen and nori because she’s a mix of the two. you’re nice, and cordial to all of them, although you can’t really say the same for satoru.

occasionally you and suguru invite your friends over, because nicely enough, you both have the same interests. it’s mostly shoko and nanami, a med student and law student respectively, but both of which satoru loves to annoy to no end. lucky for you, shoko is strangely naturally tolerant of his antics and nanami shrugs it off as white noise.

“y/n, surely you’d rather spend time with me rather than that blondie?” satoru always asks, pouting as he looks at you over his shoulder during breakfast—a constant whenever you have plans that involve nanami.

it’s kind of cute.

“mmm, that’s a secret,” you’d always tell him, knowing that satoru’s pouts won’t last all day anyway. it’ll relegate to an excited grin whenever you’re back after that.

you’d never really had to face your feelings, then, until all of you gather one night, before the holidays officially start. you should’ve known that something would be different this time, especially when there’s alcohol involved. naturally, in the circle you sit in, satoru asks people to scoot over, purposely sitting beside you, as close as he can, close enough that your arms and knees practically brush.

it’s just for a simple game of truth or dare, and it’s innocent enough until someone asks nanami and he says truth, and his truth is that out of everyone he knows, he’d most likely date you. beside you, while everyone else is whooping at the declaration, satoru clicks his tongue in annoyance, though he says nothing about it. and you’re not really emphatic about it until someone dares nori to kiss the guy she wants to date the most and she kisses satoru, deep and slow, in front of you, haibara letting slip that she’s had a crush on satoru for a while now.

satoru’s five shots in and tipsy and he was imagining that was you and maybe that’s why it lasted for five seconds before he pulls away.

and when it comes to satoru?

as though noticing his dilemma, suguru gives an amused smile as he states his dare, “kiss the girl you most wanna marry.”

he doesn’t waste a single second in pulling you close and kissing you, his alcohol-tainted lips pressing against yours, daring tongue teasingly prying open your lips, chuckling as he feels you kiss him back.

“not most,” satoru corrects right as the both of you pull away, his forehead still pressed against yours and both of your half-lidded pair of eyes still staring at each other.

“what?” you’re almost breathless, forgetting that everyone else is watching.

“the only girl i wanna marry.” and you think he’s never looked more handsome, genuine smile plastered on his face and pretty blue eyes threatening to pull you in.

while everyone moves on, satoru doesn’t—he keeps you there with him, telling you for the first time in four years since he’s known you, “i love you.”

the next week, after you get home for the holidays, the first time being away from satoru in a while, you manage to find your old pencil case, the folded paper swan satoru folded for you all those years ago still inside, somehow forgotten.

curious, you finally open it, finding his message enclosed inside, bringing a smile to your face.

i’m gonna marry you one day.

2010; twenty-one.

dating satoru is like finding a new hobby that you’re effortlessly good at.

despite living under the same roof, instead of finding out the ugly, you find the good in each other. even with suguru in the mix, you all live harmoniously like you have been since the start. except now, satoru likes to sleep in your room, both of you fooling around and occasionally forcing suguru to tell you to pipe down.

satoru is still full of surprises, sometimes pulling up with his car as though both of you don’t sleep under the same roof, telling you that he planned a date and to dress nice. he buys you flowers even if you’re not particularly fancy of them and surprises you by buying things that simply reminded him of you.

dating satoru is like finding out that the right person for you will always think of you and your feelings, no matter the circumstance. the way he makes sure to tell you if he has to hang around nori, or the way he asks if you need anything when he passes by the grocery store alone, or going so far as to memorise your cycle so he knows exactly what to show up back home with.

by the time it’s your one-year anniversary and his birthday comes and you ask him what he wants, all he can answer is “you” and for the first time, you can tell he isn’t trying to be annoying or cheeky or flirty—satoru is surprisingly simple and his answer always has been and somehow always will be just you.

2013; twenty-four.

you still remember the day satoru got down on one knee, his handsome smile even more radiant under the golden hour glow, those still-beautiful blue eyes gleaming even from beneath his bangs.

just an intimate proposal with your closest friends, both shoko and suguru helping to distract you in order to create a successful surprise, while nanami and haibara helped with the decorations and photography.

thanks to them, you’re laughing now, at your wedding reception, looking at all the ways you nearly found them out that day, exactly one year ago, in the form of pictures. and thanks to the best man’s toast, you find out that suguru’s always known about satoru’s feelings, and just how deep his emotions for you ran.

“i won’t forget how much he whined about y/n getting close to nanami. that was probably the one time his whining got so out of control that i wanted to stuff a pillow over his face,” suguru divulges, garnering laughs around the hall, including from you, as your new husband pouts and squeezes your hand.

thanks to that, nanami finds the need to disclose during his speech, “i have never intended to date nor had such thoughts about y/n. my truth during that game of truth or dare was simply the result of a process of elimination—” and haibara cuts him off to give a more fitting speech, fits of laughter all across the room.

that day, you steal glances at satoru, wondering how you got so lucky to be with someone who loves you so much and continuously proves so with every passing day.

“satoru?” you call to him softly that night, as you both find yourselves completely bare in the bedroom of your new apartment, one to yourselves.

his piercing blue eyes flick up to meet yours, relishing how it feels like inside of you, every time as though it’s the first. “yeah?” it’s breathy, because he’s about to lose himself.

“i love you, satoru, and only you, forever and ever,” you tell him, finally knowing that in this life, it will always be gojo satoru for you, and that it’s the same for him too.

he only chuckles, pulling you close, “forever me and you, baby, only us.”

2023; present day.

“wow, more than ten years, i think i need to give you a trophy for that, y/n.”

satoru groans, rolling his eyes. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

beside him, suguru laughs at shoko’s comment. this time, the six of you find yourselves at a round table in a seafood restaurant during satoru’s birthday, talking about how it’s you and satoru’s tenth year together too.

“i’m not too much, am i?” satoru teasingly asks you, although you only shrug in amusement before drinking your glass of water as an excuse not to answer.

you’ve always been like that, but it’s part of what satoru likes about you. scratch that, he’s loved every part of you since he met you. it’s like it was meant to be; or so he likes to think. there’s an undeniable pull that always lulls him back to you. to satoru, there’s never been question that you’re the only one for him, maybe that’s why it’s so clear-cut.

“you’re just so head over heels for me, huh?” you ask him, a smug grin on your face, the conversational context something he’s missing since he’s been zoning out in his thoughts.

since the first time he saw you, he’s been drawn to you every second of every day. maybe that’s why he did all those stupid stuff like pretending not to be able to cook and ‘accidentally’ burning himself to get you to tend to him, or purposely pricking himself with the needle and asking you to put a plaster over it just to feel you close. even those times at the supermarket when he purposely loses you so he can find you again and see your helpless smile and feel the way you rub his head affectionately afterwards.

maybe it’s stupid too, how he had to silently admit he knows how to cook all too well because he didn’t want suguru to taste your cooking when he first moved in. it was something satoru felt he wanted to himself, something he wanted to keep between him and his future wife. or how a wordless stare between him and suguru during that game of truth or dare was all suguru needed to know that satoru wanted to make you his at that very second, afraid that kiss between him and nori would make you hesitant.

he shouldn’t have underestimated you though, because you know him better than most people do. there were never any pointless arguments or unrecoverable friction.

as they sing happy birthday annoyingly loud like best friends do, chanting for him to make a wish—his hands find yours again as they always did, he can honestly say that there’s no other way he’d rather live his life. you’re made for him and he has you and the little mini yous at home so really, there’s nothing that he has to wish for.

except, maybe, one thing, if he could be selfish.

in this life, and every other life, he’ll want to be with you and only you, forever.

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