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chapter three ‧₊.࿐ bittersweet mortal cravings / words of wisdom

summary After kissing your best friend, things change in ways you didn't expect, and you can't help but wonder whether you've gained clarity or more confusion about your feelings in the end! Confiding in Satoru turns out to be more helpful than expected, and he offers you some words of wisdom! warnings slightly suggestive scene, a bit of angst (sorry suguru😢) word count 6.2k songs pluto projector rex orange county, everyone adores you (at least i do) matt maltese, we might even be falling in love victoria monét

"when you say my name, nothing's changed, i'm still a boy inside my thoughts"

links collection ; taglist ; pinterest ; playlist ; misc

Satoru wakes to the sound of his phone ringing and a familiar weight dropping down on his lap.

Peeking one eye open, he's met with a heavenly sight. You, wearing one of his older jerseys and tilting your head down at him before leaning forward to nuzzle your face into his.

"Mornin', baby," he grins groggily, doing his best to stay awake just to admire how stunning you look in the sunrise today.

"Good morning, dummy," you can't help but return the lovestruck smile, finally leaning in for a chaste kiss, the phone still ringing, discarded on your empty bedside.

Delicate hands find themselves trailing up your waist, and Satoru attempts to pull you even further into him, but you push yourself off, knowing you wouldn't make it out of bed til the afternoon if you gave in to him now.

Your fingers trace the outline of his chest.

"Suguru's still calling, y'know?"

He chases after your lips, ignoring your words and with a tentative lick against the plush flesh, you open your mouth gladly for another kiss.

"Mm, he'll call again if it's important," he muffles into you, slowly starting to trail down the edge of your jaw.

You giggle as his teeth graze the sensitive skin on your neck. "He's already called two times, though!"

Giving him one last parting kiss, much to Satoru's dismay, you slip off his lap and return to the kitchen, giving him some space to talk with your friend.

His head falls back against the pillow, close-eyed and with a lopsided grin, he sighs before reaching for his phone.

"Hey, man."

Satoru sits up on the edge of the bed in one swift motion, stretching his back with a groan.

"Gods, you sleep long," Suguru complains from the other end, and the other just giggles at the traffic he can hear in the background.

"You're just jealous I get to sleep in," Satoru's feet slap lazily against the floor as he drags himself to find you again, having no shame that he can't even spend half a minute without your warmth.

"Of course I am," Suguru grumbles, "anyway...Coach asked if you're ready for the game tonight or if your knee is still-"

"My knee is just fine! Yaga always worries too much."

Leaning over the kitchen counter, a grin audible in his tone as you offer him a washed blueberry and smile as his teeth graze your fingertips when he reaches for it.

Satoru hates to see it falter slightly after hearing his words, turning away a little to continue mixing the rest of the berries into the batter.

"Anyways, I'll see you later. Have fun at the office, Suguru~!"

"I hate you so much. See ya."

Suguru hangs up on him, and Satoru doesn't waste another second, throwing his phone mindlessly on the counter before walking over to you and snaking his hand around your waist, peppering your face with more good morning kisses.

"You worried, baby?" He utters into your skin, and you can hear that he feels terrible about it, which makes you worry even more.

You hum dismissively in response, not wanting to have this talk again, knowing that nothing could stop Satoru from doing what he loved anyway.

"You don't have to worry, baby. I'm the best! And they need their captain, hm? Or else these idiots wouldn't get anything done."

You hate that he thinks like this, that he always accepts all the unrealistic expectations set for him, never once asking for help, always making sure to do his job and more. Yet still, you can't help but think that it is one of the main reasons why you fell in love with him in the first place.

"I know. I can't help that I'm worried," you shrug and turn to face him again. He looks so pretty you almost forget what you were talking about for a moment, his hair still dishevelled and his eyes half-lidded, shirtless and focused on nothing but you. The look you're giving him is soft and pleading, asking him to stay with you tonight.

"Nothing can hurt me when you're around, okay?" He presses a kiss onto your lips and its with such force that tells you he loves you endlessly but that he can't do what you're so desperately asking him to.

You make out in the kitchen for what feels like an eternity until your lips are so swollen you can forget he’s leaving for a moment and as his hands rub mindless patterns into your waist, you pull away breathless and grin.

“Couldn’t you be a basketball player? It's hot in a long sleeve this time of year,” you complain, pulling at the fabric to cool yourself down.

“You look very hot indeed,” Satoru muses, pulling you back into him for another kiss.

“Besides, then you’d always complain about being cold any other season, huh?”

Slowly he lets his fingers trail down to your hips, and a sneaking suspicion confirms itself when his hands find nothing but the material of his jersey separating his hands from your skin.

You turn off the stove, shaking your head at his antics before dragging him towards the empty counter by the hem of his sweatpants.

“But I’ve got you to keep me warm...”

He lifts you up and sighs dreamily into the next kiss as you pull him closer with your legs.

“...don’t I?”

‧₊.࿐

10th August 2006

Suguru had yet to speak to you since that night.

He was gone by the time you woke up, which was embarrassingly late in the afternoon, and you could only recall vague fragments of the evening, memories hazy and blurred. Though as your fingers brushed against your lips almost instinctively, you remembered how his felt against yours perfectly, as if you could sense him kissing you all over again.

You've texted him but were met with short, polite, uninterested answers, and the radio silence was driving you wild over the weekend and the only thing on your mind on every mission. So desperate to clear things up with him, you found yourself standing in front of his house, fist clenching and unclenching as you paced around, hoping to find the courage to knock.

You went over the words you would say 'just one more time', but your inner monologue was interrupted when the door suddenly swung open. Shifting your eyes down, you see Suguru's mother, who seemed just as startled as you, gasping before a warm smile spreads over her face as she grabs your hand and pulls you into her home.

"Kazuha! What a pleasure, I haven't seen you in ages! You've grown so much, honey," she grins, and once you're inside, she gives you a big hug, swaying your body around, her face reaching just barely above your chest, and you bend down a little to make it less awkward.

"You look sickly...have you been eating well? I've just made a big batch of food for Suguru's trip if you're-"

"Trip…?" You didn't mean to interrupt, but the words tumbled out of your mouth before you had time to think, "Where is he going?"

She blinks up at you, stunned, before frowning sympathetically.

"Oh, honey, I thought he told you."

"I'm going to Nikko. Hiking and Camping. To clear my mind," Suguru joins the two of you, staring you down with an expression you can't quite read.

"Oh," is all you manage to answer, and silence falls upon the genkan. Sensing the tense atmosphere, his mother excuses herself to go and prepare some tea in the kitchen, giving Suguru and you some privacy to talk after you've taken off your shoes and followed him into the living room.

He acted nonchalantly about everything, asking how Mizuha had been doing and how you were holding up as if he hadn't ignored you the whole weekend.

"How long will you be gone for?" You can't help but ask, feeling as though his trip was one of the few things that seemed unaddressed in the room.

You feel a little stupid now, sitting on his couch, making such a big deal out of something that didn't seem to affect him at all.

"Not that long…I think. Just a few days. I'll try to make it back for Mizuha's birthday."

"Good, she really wants you there, you know?" You think the tension was slowly evaporating when suddenly-

"And you?" he questions, so casually you can only manage to stutter out a few syllables before his mother cuts your conversation short, entering with a tray of cups and treats.

"Is green tea fine, dear? She beams, and you graciously take it from her hands, still flushed from Suguru's words.

She sits in the chair across from you and reaches over to push a strand of Suguru's hair back, who clicks his tongue and flinches away from her touch almost instinctively.

She falls back into the soft cushion with a defeated sigh before turning towards you instead.

"Y'know...I've always told Suguru to grow out his hair, but I think he's just doing it now because he's lazy! Gods know the boy'd never do something I told him to!"

His hair was half up, some still falling loosely onto his shoulders, and you giggle along politely to her words, glancing over at him occasionally.

She stares at you, mesmerised, before wistfully leaning forward again, "Can I?" She smiles.

You meet her reaching hand halfway, and she curls a loose piece of your hair around her finger.

She just stares at you for a second, wistfully leaning forward again.

"Can I?" She smiles.

And you nod before meeting her reaching hand halfway, curling a loose piece of her around her finger.

"My, I haven't seen someone with a colour this beautiful since I met Suguru's father. It's stunning. And healthy, too."

Her words mean a lot more than you think she could ever know, and it's nice to hear from someone who works in a salon that at least a part of you has managed to heal in ways you could only dream of.

"Have you ever tried dying it?" She tells her head, and for once, it's you who feels Suguru's gaze on you now, glancing at you with a concerned look on his face.

"Uh…I used to, yeah. But it was no use. The dye never stayed in my hair for long," you explain politely, enjoying the burning sensation against your tongue as you take a sip of tea right after.

She nods, deep in thought, "Hmm, I can imagine, a colour like this must be hard to drown out…"

She trails off, and her comment makes a shiver run down your spine.

"Yeah. My mother used to say that as well."

At her mention, the room goes quiet. A few months ago, you told Suguru's mother a little about your family and that you mainly live on your own now. She understood then, tried to hold back her tears and confessed to you that "she always wanted a daughter", so you'd be welcome in her household anytime. That day, for the very first time, her hands brushed through your hair with a gentleness you were unfamiliar with, the one of a loving mother.

"Have you been eating well, honey? You look a little pale," she presses the back of her palm against your forehead.

"I've not been sleeping well lately, but I'll manage."

"Ah, yes, I remember Suguru mentioned he checked on you before the weekend," she recalled.

"I didn't know you were feeling this bad! You should have checked on her again," she slaps her son with a handkerchief across the chest, who barely reacts to her assault at all.

"To be honest, he looked so flushed the next morning I thought he didn't want to tell me what happened for a whole other reason," she smirked, and Suguru choked on his tea.

"Mom?!" He turns away to cough, a perfect cover to hide the warmth on his face, and his mother doesn't seem to care about the embarrassment her son is experiencing.

"Well, if you need anything, you can just call me! Or Suguru, or better yet, you should just come over. You know you're always welcome!"

"Yeah, okay, mom. I think I actually am ready to go now. My train leaves in half an hour. Kazuha, do you uh…" he gets up, uncharacteristically avoiding your eyes before he speaks, "Do you want to walk with me, maybe?"

You sigh in relief, smiling.

"Of course."

‧₊.࿐

The walk to the train station is familiar and comfortable; you help Suguru with one of the smaller backpacks and chat about the many pictures Shoko has been sending from her holiday in Bali, the upcoming semester and his trip.

You fidget a bit, and Suguru thinks he has never seen you so skittish as you tell him to call when something is wrong or if he just feels like talking. The thought you were still so obviously thinking about the kiss was making a bit of pride swell in his chest, but he tried to hold himself back from wishful thinking, knowing how badly it would hurt in the end.

"I forgot some jacket at your place, by the way."

"I'll give it to you the next time we see each other," you smile, and he knows what you're really trying to say is, 'You better not avoid me when you come back'.

A familiar melody chimes through the station, and he gives you a pitiful look as he watches you fumble, unsure whether you can embrace him in a hug or not.

He saves you from your mental dilemma by draping his larger arms around your form, and you drown in the material of his oversized hoodie. Melting into the feeling of his warmth and enjoying the brief moment of familiarity you had missed so desperately.

People were starting to get off the train behind you, and Suguru spoke, face still lingering in your hair.

"Kazuha, I'm sorry for what happened that night. You were so exhausted and clearly very vulnerable, and I shouldn't have taken advantage of that."

You pull away in disbelief, unable to process how he could possibly think the kiss was his fault.

"You didn't do that! I never thought of it like that, I promise. It was me who kissed you...and I'm sorry. I should have never..."

"So you regret it?" He says this so bluntly, with uncharacteristically hurried words slipping practically out of his mouth, that you're caught off guard.

"Well, I don't…I mean- I just don't think the timing was right, at the very least."

He lets the words linger in the air between you, thinking them over before he hears the last announcement to get on the train before its departure.

Regaining his composure, he gives you one last unreadable look, his hand rubbing over your shoulder with a sigh.

"Well, my times up. I'll see you soon."

The train leaves, and you stand there for another minute, watching it disappear and the next one already arriving. A weird feeling settles in your stomach as you're left to wonder whether you were dreading or anticipating his return.

‧₊.࿐

Missing Suguru increased as soon as you paced around in your home, halfway in your mission clothes with your phone pressed in between your ear and your shoulder as you scolded Yaga for not informing you that his sister would be away on a trip today, leaving you with no one left to babysit.

"Well, who do you want to watch Mizuha while I'm away, huh?!"

You complain into the speaker, rummaging through your dresser in search of your other sock.

Yaga sighs on the other end, suddenly glad the only responsibility on his hand was a panda cub. "I don't know. What about your freeloader loverboy?"

You roll your eyes, and Yaga can sense it even through the phone.

"Are you even allowed to talk about your student like that…? And he's not my loverboy! Besides, Suguru isn't even here... Just- just give me a minute. I still have someone I could call…"

You hang up on his threat to drive off without you, and you open your window to send him an angry look while dialling the only other person that came to mind.

‧₊.࿐

Satoru wakes to the sound of his phone ringing and an empty bed.

His eyes blinked open dreamily until he groaned at the tragic reality of his cold bed and the fact someone had dared to interrupt the perfectly good dream he was having.

Reaching for his phone, he pulls it from the charger harshly, flipping it open to see who was about to get an earful of-

His mind goes blank for a second, and he rubs at his eyes just to make sure he sees correctly before hastily answering, hoping some of the morning raspiness in his voice still remained.

"What's got you thinking about me this early in the morning, Kazu?" He draws your name out, and he's met with a brief moment of silence before you reply.

"...what do you mean 'this early in the morning'? It's two in the afternoon."

He pauses, pulling the phone from his ear to look at the clock, tauntingly blinking back at him before trying to find an excuse.

"I- yeah, no, that's that I-"

"Did you seriously sleep til two in the afternoon?!" Your scolding pierces through the speaker, and he flinches away in pain.

His shameful silence speaks volumes.

"Whatever, let a man have a little nap, will you? What did you call me for anyway?" He somewhat successfully manages to change the topic, and you sigh, deciding to let it go, considering you were about to ask him for a favour.

"I need you to babysit Mizuha...please."

Satoru's mouth curves into a smile at your words, and he replies with as much honesty as he can, "Of course, I will. You can bring her over and-"

"No! I…I won't have time I was actually going to ask if you wanted to come over," you mutter, and he can practically see you playing with the ends of your hair as you say it.

"But I thought you didn't- I mean," he trails off, still slightly confused. This was certainly not how he imagined his first invite into your home would sound, his heart pounding at the thought nonetheless.

"I know, but every other person I could ask is gone, and I'm in a hurry."

Satoru's heart was about to start aching at your dismissiveness when you softly added.

"...besides, I trust you."

His silence freaks you out, unable to see he had simply pushed his face further into his pillow, nose deep in an attempt to cool the blush and holding himself back from kicking his feet like a schoolgirl with a crush.

"I've sent you the address. Can you be there in twenty minutes?" You utter into the quiet.

"I'll be there," he promises.

‧₊.࿐

"He's here!" Mizuha grins, standing on a chair to look through the peephole while you are still frantically marching between your bathroom and bedroom in search of the extra med kid you'd usually kept in your leg holster.

Stopping mid-way, you squint your eyes at your sister, who is still poorly attempting to put the stool back into its original position.

"You're slow," you tease before opening the door and seeing your reflection in Satoru's sunglasses, standing somewhat tensely before you.

"Uh, Yaga is ominously watching your apartment in a black car with tinted windows, by the way…"

You can't help but chuckle and inform him that you were well aware, and after one good glance at your attire, he realises you were likely on your way to a mission.

Mizuha hands you the holster, and you attach it to your thigh with a thank you as you walk Satoru through your home, giving him a small tour as you explain the rest.

"Mizuha isn't much trouble, so I'm sure you two will be fine. Just don't let her stand on chairs when you're not nearby, and don't let her eat sweets for dinner."

He opens his mouth, and you cut him off.

"Yes, that also means you can't eat sweets for dinner."

He pouts but agrees to ease your mind. His gaze wanders over your form, admiring how good you looked in that outfit and with his attentive gaze, he can't help but notice―

"Hey, are you okay?"

Your head snaps up at him, confirming his suspicion somewhat.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm just stressed because Yaga is so impatient," you mumble, and your eyes never quite meet his, trailing from his left ear down to the collar of his shirt.

"Oh my god. You're totally lying."

Satoru exclaims happily as he notices, and you seem a bit surprised yourself before sighing and finally meeting his gaze.

"Okay, fine. Can I just…tell you something? As a friend?" You bite your lip, and it feels weird, but it is eating you alive, and you feel a bit of relief at the thought of getting it off your chest.

"Yes, yes, of course, anything."

He nods, and you glance past his shoulder towards Mizuha, entranced by the TV in the other room, before taking a deep breath and figuring out how to say this in a way that wouldn't make things weird.

"Fine, but be normal about this."

You take a final deep breath before explaining, "Well, Suguru and I kind of kissed, and-"

"WHAT?! I mean…whaaat? Haha, please tell me more, instantly." he tries to casually lean against the doorframe, and you can see him claw at the wood from the corner of your eye.

"... and now, it's like really weird between us, I don't know. I went with him to the train station today, and we talked about it, but I still feel like we left things just kinda as confusing as they were before."

Satoru couldn't listen to you over the ringing. All he could hear was his mind screaming and his heart pounding as he tried to maintain an interested and focused smile. He was glad he hadn't taken his glasses off yet. Pretty sure one of his eyes had started twitching.

"So yeah,...Satoru?" His name out of your mouth pulls him back to the conversation, and he takes a deep breath before carefully choosing his next words.

"I am being sooooo normal about this." He says it for himself more than you, but it's drowned out by the internal screaming.

"I don't think you are…" You squint your eyes at him, and at the somewhat frustrated glare you give him, he suddenly grabs you by the shoulders like a madman.

"So. Normal! So normal you could even call it neutral! What a bland, non-day-ruining piece of information you've just told me! Ha. ha. Ha! You know what? Let me think about this very casually for the rest of the day, and I'll get back to you with some words of wisdom." The smile he gives you is tense, and it scares you a little. You can see the agonised glint in his eyes, even behind the glasses.

"Is your eye twitching?"

He ignores your question and pushes you out the door, considering Yaga started honking about 3 minutes ago.

"Mizuha and I are going to have so much fun, promise! I'll send you update photos!"

He sends you out with a bright chuckle, and as the door clicks closed, Satoru lets his head collide harshly with it, his laughter fading into a groan.

"I want to die."

Mizuha looks over the back of the couch and turns up the volume of her show with a frightful gulp.

Satoru didn't take long to collapse dramatically next to her, sighing until she finally asked him what was wrong.

"I'm sooo glad you asked!" He practically cries before explaining his situation to the three-year-old.

Finishing his rant, he throws his head back dramatically.

"How come awful things always happen to hot, amazing people like me? But it's fine, right…? I'll be fine"

Mizuha didn't bother answering.

Moments later, he was walking circles around the dinner table, and Mizuha was unsure whether she was still supposed to listen to him now that he was just frantically pacing around and mumbling just loud enough she'd hear if she really cared to.

"Maybe it wasn't even that big of a deal. A small peck between friends," he scratched his head before halting and turning to make clockwise circles.

"Or! Maybe it was a huge deal. Gigantic, like- like a full makeout session."

"I don't think you should be saying things like this in front of a three-year-old…"

"As if you're even listening!" His head falls back as he groans, "I feel like I'm losing something…"

"...your mind?" Mizuha mutters, and he halts in his tracks. His hair is already a little dishevelled, and he manages to look like you had with two full days of sleep depravity in just 3 hours.

"NO! It feels like I'm losing," he pauses and glances to the side, hesitant and attempting to phrase his following sentence in the least weird way. "the woman of my dreams that I am courting very casually or something…"

"How long have you known my sister for…?" Mizuha asked with raised brows, and he dropped down beside her again.

"I've known your sister way longer than she remembers, you know. We go way back," he shrugs with a smirk.

Scoffing at her disbelieving look, he retells your first meeting.

‧₊.࿐

1999, Kumamoto

Satoru had just finished training with Mitaka, who was lying on the floor, eyes pinched together, and head turned away as the other boy put a bandaid on his knee.

"You're a Kamo, and you're afraid of blood?" Satoru had teased, and Mitaka just gave him a playful kick with the leg that was still in the other's hand.

The two boys decided to take a break. Although Satoru hadn't actually needed it, he could still see Mitaka was over-exhausted and used the free time to wander around their estate curiously. Usually, when his mother and yours met up, you'd meet at the Gojo residence, and he liked the fact that your home wasn't as swarmed with servants and other people telling him what to do.

He halts in his steps when he sees you, hands raised in the air as you cut your finger open, face scrunching up a little at the discomfort before you press just below the cut and let as much blood drip into your palm as you manage.

He watches curiously as you start bending the blood into a small ball and then flattening it as thinly as you can before slowly forming four spikes extending from its centre. With one last mutter, you press it together as hard as possible, and the Shuriken solidifies in your palm.

Satoru thinks the self-satisfied smile that grazes your face is the cutest thing he's ever seen.

He watches as you gently toss the Shuriken into the air, hovering above your hand before you grab it again and with as much force as you can muster, you throw it, the whistling sound it makes echoing through the forest.

It is only when you follow its circling trajectory that you notice the boy who'd been watching you, and with wide eyes, you sprint towards him in terror.

Satoru is so caught up in the fact you're approaching him at all that he fails to notice your panicked look or that he should probably activate his Infinity, considering the Shuriken aiming right for his head.

"Watch out!" You yell, and as a last-minute effort, you release the Shuriken from its form. As it explodes into tiny specks of blood drops, you quickly direct them away from the expensive fabric of his kimono.

You pant a little, frowning when you see the boy still gaping at you, starstruck, not even having the decency to thank you.

"Are you incompetent or something?!"

His eyes widened at the accusation before a fascinated smile found its way onto his face. You were so blissfully different from all the other people he had met, bowing at his feet and praising his every action. You were a breath of fresh and rude air.

"No one ever called me incompetent before…"

You scoff, "Maybe not to your face." And your tone catches Satoru off guard; suddenly, he realises the predicament he was setting up for himself, and still, his heart pounded in excitement.

Your gaze tears itself away from him at the sound of your mother's voice, yelling that the cookie tray is 'looking awfully empty'. You close your eyes and sigh to yourself, making Satoru's chest ache to witness your fierceness fade away.

When you walk past him to rush back inside, he grabs you by the arm, and you look back at him in astonishment. So he can move.

"W-wait. I'm Gojo. Gojo Satoru."

You can't help but laugh.

"I know, idiot."

‧₊.࿐

He finished his story with a dumb smile, and Mizuha, who had only half paid attention, returned to watch her show and mindlessly mumbled over her shoulder.

"So you like…being insulted?"

He scoffs in disbelief at her conclusion and walks into the kitchen to get started on dinner.

"That's not the point at all, god, you are being such a three-year-old."

"Well, at least you've calmed down now…" Mizuha grins as she trails after him, suspecting that Satoru might need some help in the kitchen. Passing by your slightly ajar bedroom door, he sees a piece of clothing discarded on the floor and picks it up for you, placing it over the backrest of a chair Mizuha was totally not trying to grab just now.

He walks one step before a realisation hits him, and he halts. Turning around, Satoru gulps and pulls the fabric up in front of his face to inspect it closer.

He sees a familiar name lazily scribbled next to the small embroidered basketball team logo.

Geto Suguru

Mizuha, who had already halfway pulled a different chair into the kitchen, flinched together at his defeated cry ringing through the apartment.

‧₊.࿐

You return to the two of them, still busy in the kitchen, a little earlier because you were admittedly worried about how Satoru would be able to handle Mizu.

But the two seemed fine, laughing together as your sister showed him how to crack an egg properly.

They both fail.

You push them aside as you wipe the eggs they cracked on your countertop and continue their poor attempt at cooking.

"We wanted to make Tteokkbokki!"

"And you decided the first step would be to crack two eggs…?"

They point at each other accusingly, and you pull the bag of rice cakes out of the drawer and let them soak in the warm water as you prepare the soup stock.

Mizuha is curious as to why you suddenly seem so content to cook, almost making a comment about how you're "almost as good as Suguru" but refraining, considering Satoru had just calmed down from his second meltdown.

While stirring the noodles, you smile up at Satoru, who is still standing by your side, observing every single one of your movements with big eyes.

"I hope Mizuha wasn't being difficult."

Mizuha scoffs behind you, mixing the sesame seeds and oil while you cut the spring onions.

"I'm not the one you should be worried about being difficult," she utters under her breath, and Satoru gives her a pointed glare.

Leaning behind you when you were focused on seasoning the soup stock, he whispers, "You're losing chair privileges for that comment, young lady."

Mizuha stuck her tongue out at him.

"You're not my dad!" But her hand grew tired from the stirring anyway, so she still complied with his wishes.

"What was that about?" You mumble as you pour the rice cakes into the stew, watching Mizuha waddle into the living room.

"Nothing! Did you know I actually had a dream about us where-"

"Go set the table."

"Okay, Kazu."

‧₊.࿐

During dinner, you can't help but be surprised by how quickly Satoru and Mizuha seem to get along. Even with Shoko, it took her a while to warm up and come out of her shell, but the two of them were teasing and mocking each other as though they were childhood friends, and a feeling of ease settled in your chest for the first time that day.

Satoru insisted on helping you with the dishes and promised he would actually do something. You are truthfully impressed at how skillfully he manages to rinse off the chopsticks.

And when you finish much quicker than usual, you thank him somewhat absentmindedly as you reach for a new kitchen towel.

Suddenly, you feel Satoru's chest pressed against your back, his hands trapping you between his body and the counter, and you turn around with a stutter and tensed shoulders.

"W-what are you…"

You can see the blue so clearly, no glasses in the way, eyes softened as they stare at you reassuringly and with longing you can't quite place.

"'m just checking something…" he trails off, and your gaze moves across his skin, standing so close you realise for the first time that he does have a few imperfections that add a lot to the otherwise flawless face of his.

You let out a squeal when Satoru suddenly kicks his leg into the side of your foot, tripping you to fall into one of his arms as you yelp.

"Satoru!"

He moves back with a self-satisfied smile and points at you.

"You just called me by my first name and without my permission nonetheless," he teasingly clicks his tongue.

You frowned at the realisation, and Satoru didn't mean for you to truly feel bad about it, reaching forward to rub your shoulder when he saw it.

"Hey- I was just joking. I'm happy! I want you to call me by my first name. You know that."

It does feel good, and you give him a gentle smile, shoulders dropping again and leaning a little into his touch.

When you leave to tug Mizuha in, you return to Satoru sitting by the windowsill in the living room. Glancing outside, he can see the endless sky beyond the rows of dull apartment buildings.

It's the only spot in your house you actually somewhat like, and the window, despite the fact it was north-facing, was large, and the built-in cabins beneath it often acted as a bench for you.

You join him, and the two of you bask in the silence before you sigh and speak up.

"Can we maybe…talk about the kiss?" You still don't know how you feel about addressing it, but it still claws at you.

"...You did promise me some words of wisdom."

Your playful comment didn't seem to help much with easing the tension.

Satoru's heart aches. He wants to die. Again!

"Oh, I'd love nothing more than that."

You explain to him that despite the fact it felt right in the moment, it truthfully didn't feel like much thinking back on it. You and Suguru always seemed more like a couple in the eyes of others, and while you loved Suguru deeply, you realised it would feel weird to add a romantic aspect to the deep relationship you already shared.

Satoru is torn between wanting what's best for you and wanting you as he listens along, and even though it feels a bit wrong, he is relieved to hear you say it.

"Well…you can't help how you feel. Sometimes. Maybe this is your heart telling you that you want something else…someone else," Satoru knows he's being selfish, but at least he justifies it; He's being honest.

You sigh into the material of your hoodie.

"Or maybe…you know, maybe there's just something awfully wrong with me. Maybe you lose your ability to love when you're a Stray."

"Okay, well, when you put it like that…"

You whine.

"Just joking! Just joking. Kazu, you are not only capable of love but also deserving of love. I know you don't believe me when I tell you that it wasn't your fault, but I still want you to know that you don't deserve what happened to you. Even if you think there is no punishment enough for what you've done, you can't keep denying yourself to live and love."

You look at each other and you you've never been so happy to have Satoru inch closer to you.

"...And laugh?" You tease, and he tears his gaze away from you first.

"Okay, smartass. And I thought I was the one who always ruined the-"

You lean over and press a soft kiss against his cheek, your hand resting on his other, your body for once doesn't feel warmer than his and with just an inch little of distance, he can still feel your warm breath, lips grazing his face as you speak your next words.

"Thank you,..Satoru."

Satoru thinks he might actually die.

"You're- you're welcome, Kazu."

The following silence is comfortable, and you enjoy that your arms are pressed against each other.

Minutes pass by, staring at the stars together, and at one point, your head feels so heavy it leans against Satoru's.

After some time, he speaks up, muttering under his breath.

"So…how did that kiss feel?"

You chuckle, "Let me sleep on it, and I'll get back to you with some words of wisdom, huh?"

"Oh? Is that your way of asking to see me again?" He leans a little over, and his eyes are so close to yours that you can see they're warm tonight.

You hum, pretending to think about it.

"... We'll see if you become any more bearable."

chapter two | masterlist | chapter four

is this shit? I'm a lil eepyy.... i might proofread it one more time tomorrow morning!

much love, jae! 🩵

#icymi !!‧₊.࿐#queue tie !!‧₊.࿐#me when i have a 3 word vocabulary consisting of: smile mumble or hand

2 notes · View notes

takadokii · 1 year ago

Text

chapter three ‧₊.࿐ bittersweet mortal cravings / words of wisdom

summary After kissing your best friend, things change in ways you didn't expect, and you can't help but wonder whether you've gained clarity or more confusion about your feelings in the end! Confiding in Satoru turns out to be more helpful than expected, and he offers you some words of wisdom! warnings slightly suggestive scene, swearing, a bit of angst, satoru is losing his shit (twice) word count 6.5k songs pluto projector rex orange county, everyone adores you (at least i do) matt maltese, we might even be falling in love victoria monét

"when you say my name, nothing's changed, i'm still a boy inside my thoughts"

links collection ; taglist ; pinterest ; playlist ; misc

Satoru awakens to the sound of his phone ringing and a familiar weight dropping down on his lap.

Peeking one eye open, he's met with a heavenly sight; you, wearing one of his older jerseys and tilting your head, leaning forward to nuzzle your nose into his.

"Mornin', baby," he grins groggily, doing his best to stay awake just to admire how stunning you look in the sunrise today.

"Good morning, dummy."

You can't help but return the lovestruck smile, finally leaning in for a chaste but much-awaited kiss, the phone still ringing, discarded on your empty side of the bed.

Your fingers trace along the soft skin of his pecs, warming under your touch.

"Suguru's still calling, y'know?"

Satoru ignores your remark, instead chases after your lips again and with a tentative lick against the plush flesh, you open your mouth gladly for another few minutes of bliss.

"Mm, he'll call again if it's important," he muffles into the skin along the edge of your jaw, slowly trailing down.

You giggle as his teeth graze your collarbone. "He's already called two times, though!"

Giving him one last parting kiss, much to Satoru's dismay, you slip off his lap and return to the kitchen, giving him some space to talk with your friend.

His head falls back against the pillow, close-eyed and with a lopsided grin, he sighs before reaching for his phone.

"Hey, man."

He sits up on the edge of the bed in one swift motion, stretching his back with a yawn.

"Gods, you sleep long," Suguru complains from the other end, and Satoru just giggles at the traffic he can hear in the background of his scolding.

"You're just jealous I get to sleep in," Satoru's feet slap lazily against the floor as he drags himself to find you again, having no shame in the fact that he can't even spend half a minute without your warmth.

"Of course I am," Suguru grumbles, "anyway...Coach asked if you're ready for the game tonight or if your knee is still-"

"My knee is just fine! Yaga always worries too much."

Leaning over the kitchen counter, a grin audible in his tone as you offer him a washed blueberry and smile as his teeth graze your fingertips when he bites into it.

Satoru hates to see it falter slightly after hearing his words, turning away a little to continue mixing the rest of the berries into the batter.

"Anyways, I'll see you later. Have fun at the office, Suguru~!"

"I hate you so much. See ya."

"You worried, baby?" He utters into your skin, and you can hear that he feels terrible about it, which only makes you worry even more.

You hum dismissively in response. The two of you had this conversation a million times already, and by now, you knew better than to even suggest stopping Satoru from doing what he loves.

"You don't have to worry, baby. I'm the best! And they need their captain, hm? Or else these idiots wouldn't get anything done."

You hate that he thinks like this, that he always accepts all the unrealistic expectations set for him, never once asking for help, consistently making sure to do his job and more. Yet still, you can't help but think that it is one of the main reasons why you fell in love with him in the first place.

"I know. I can't help that I'm worried," you shrug and turn to face him again. He looks so pretty you almost forget what you were frustrated about for a moment, his hair still dishevelled and his eyes half-lidded, shirtless and focusing on nothing but you, as always.

The look you give him is soft and pleading, despite knowing better, asking him silently to stay with you tonight.

"Nothing can hurt me when you're around, m'kay?" He presses a kiss onto your lips with such gentle force it tells you, 'I love you endlessly, but I can't do what you're so desperately asking me to.' And it stings a bit.

Nonetheless, you two make out in the kitchen for what feels like an eternity until your lips are so swollen you forget he's leaving for a moment. As his hands rub mindless patterns into your waist, you pull away breathlessly and grin against him.

"Mm, couldn't you be a basketball player? It's hot in a long sleeve this time of year," you complain, pulling at the fabric to cool yourself down.

"You look very hot indeed," Satoru muses, pulling you back into him for another kiss.

"Besides, then you'd always complain about being cold any other season, huh?"

Slowly, he lets his fingers trail down to your hips, and a sneaking suspicion confirms itself when his hands find nothing but the material of his jersey separating his hands from your skin.

You turn off the stove, shaking your head at his antics before dragging him towards the empty counter by the hem of his sweatpants.

"But I still have you to keep me warm..."

He lifts you up and sighs dreamily into the next kiss as you pull him closer with your legs.

"... don't I?"

‧₊.࿐

10th August 2006

Suguru hadn't spoken to you since that night.

He was gone by the time you woke up, which was embarrassingly late in the afternoon, and you could only recall vague fragments of the evening, memories hazy and blurred. Though as your fingers came up to brush against your lips almost instinctively, you remembered the way his felt against yours perfectly, as though you could sense him kissing you all over again.

You've texted him loads since then but were met with short, polite, but uninterested answers that clearly indicated he was not ready to talk to you.

The radio silence was driving you wild over the weekend and the only thing on your mind on every mission. So desperate to clear things up with him, you found yourself standing in front of his door, fist clenching and unclenching as you paced around, hoping to find the courage to knock for the past half hour.

You went over the words you were going to say one more time, but your inner monologue was interrupted when the door suddenly swung open.

Suguru's mother stares up at you with big eyes and a warm smile before grasping both of your hands into hers and pulling you inside.

"Kazuha! What a pleasure, I haven't seen you in ages! You've grown so much, honey," she grins and gives you a hug so tight you fear your ribs cracking any moment now.

"You look sickly. Have you not been eating well? I've just made a big batch of food for Suguru's trip if you're-"

"Trip?"

You don't mean to interrupt, but the words tumble out of your mouth before you have time to think, "Where is he going?"

She blinks up at you in surprise, and with a sympathetic frown, she reaches to rub circles into your arm.

"Oh, honey, I thought he told you already..."

"I'm going to Nikko. Hiking. To clear my mind," Suguru speaks up from the end of the hallway, and you wonder how long he had been standing there without saying a word.

"Oh." Is all you manage to answer, and the silence that falls upon the genkan is painful. So much so his mother excuses herself shortly after and gives the two of you some privacy.

He leads you into the living room, and you sit down a little farther away from him than you normally would. A show is running on the TV that Suguru had briefly mentioned to be his father's favourite, yet he seemed to be nowhere in sight, and the volume was turned so far down it was barely audible.

He acts nonchalant about everything, striking up a conversation as he would with you on any other day, asking you how Mizuha has been as if he hadn't ignored and avoided you the whole weekend.

"How long will you be gone for?" You can't help yourself but ask, feeling as though his trip was the least awkward, unaddressed topic in the room.

You felt a bit stupid for making such a big deal out of it now; going over the interactions you've shared over the weekend, you wonder if it was really just you being overly paranoid.

"Not that long, I think. Just a few days. I'll try to make it back in time for Mizu's birthday." And when he grins at you, it looks just as it always has.

"Good, she really wants you there, you know?" You smile as the tension finally seems to fade.

"And you?" he questions, so casually you can only manage to stutter out a few syllables before his mother cuts your conversation short, entering with a tray of treats.

"Is green tea fine, dear?" She beams, and you graciously take the cup from her hands, still somewhat flushed from her son's words.

After taking a seat across from you, she reaches out to Suguru's loose hair, who flinches back at her attempt, squinting his eyes in annoyance.

She falls back into the soft cushion of her chair with a defeated sigh before turning towards you with her tea cupped in between her hands.

"I've always told Suguru to grow out his hair, but I think he's just doing it now because he's lazy… Gods know the boy'd never do something I told him to!"

His hair was different today, half up with a few more strands than normally framing his face. You giggled along politely with his mother's words and would glance over at him every now and then.

She leans forward, "Can I?"

Her hand inches towards you in a way you've grown used to, and you meet her in the middle so she can curl a red strand around her finger.

"I haven't seen a colour this beautiful since I met Suguru's father. It's stunning. And healthy, too."

Your breath stocks at her words. You are glad that at least your hair has healed from your past, and as they pierce themselves through your heart, it aches so bittersweet, suddenly aware that it does, in fact, still beat.

"Have you ever tried dying it?" She tilts her head, and you can feel Suguru's concerned gaze piercing into your cheek.

"Uh…I used to, yeah. But it was no use. The dye never stayed in my hair for long," you smile politely, enjoying the burning sensation against your tongue as you take a sip of tea.

She nods along, deep in thought.

"Hmm, I can imagine, a colour like this must be hard to drown out…"

She trails off, and you feel your heart stop.

"Yeah. My mother used to say that as well."

At her mention, the room falls into silence again. A few months into meeting his mother, you had told her a bit about your upbringing, mainly because she seemed so concerned that you lived on your own.

She listened to you with tears in her eyes, apologising for getting so emotional. The both of you settled in the comfortable quiet that followed, and as her hand reached to stroke gentle circles along your fingers, she told you she always wanted a daughter with a smile that made your heart ache. That day, for the very first time, her fingers brushed through your hair with a gentleness you were unfamiliar with, the one of a loving mother.

"Have you been eating well, honey? You look a little pale." She presses the back of her palm against your forehead before softly caressing your cheek.

"I've not been sleeping well lately, but I'll manage," you attempt to reassure.

"Ah, yes, I remember Suguru mentioned he checked on you before the weekend, but I didn't know you were feeling this bad! You should have checked on her again," she slaps her son with a handkerchief across the chest.

"To be honest, he looked so flushed the next morning I thought he didn't want to tell me what happened for a whole other reason," she whispered with a smirk, and Suguru choked on his tea.

"Mom?!" He turns away to cough, a perfect cover to hide the growing blush on his face.

"Well, if you need anything, you can just call me! Or Suguru, or better yet, you should just come over. You know you're always welcome!"

"Yeah, okay, mom. I think I actually am ready to go now. My train leaves in half an hour. Kazuha, do you uh…" he gets up, uncharacteristically avoiding your eyes before he asks, "Do you want to walk with me, maybe?"

‧₊.࿐

The walk to the trainstation is familiar and comfortable. You help him with one of the smaller backpacks and chat about the many pictures Shoko has been sending from her holiday in Bali, the upcoming semester and his trip.

You fidget a little, and Suguru thinks he has never seen you so skittish as you tell him to call when something is wrong or if he just feels like talking. The thought you were still so obviously thinking about the kiss was making a bit of pride swell in his chest, but he tried to hold himself back from wishful thinking, knowing how badly it would hurt in the end.

"I forgot some jacket at your place, by the way."

"I'll give it to you the next time we see each other," you smile, and he knows you're trying to say, 'You better not avoid me when you come back'.

His train's arrival is announced throughout the station, and he gives you a pitiful look as he watches you fumble, so unsure whether you can embrace him in a hug or not.

He interrupts your mental dilemma by draping his much larger arms around your form, and you drown in the familiar material of his oversized hoodie. Melting into the feeling and enjoying the brief moment of normality, squeezing him back just as tightly.

People were starting to get off the train behind you, and Suguru spoke, head still leaning onto the crown of your head.

"Kazuha, I'm sorry for what happened that night…you were so exhausted and tired, and I shouldn't have taken advantage of that."

You pull away in disbelief, unable to process how he could possibly think that this was somehow his fault.

"You didn't do that! I never thought of it like that, I promise. It was me who kissed you…and I'm sorry. I should have never…"

"So you regret it?" He says this so bluntly, with uncharacteristically hurried words slipping practically out of his mouth, that you're caught off guard.

"Well, I don't…I mean. I just don't think the timing was right, at the very least."

He lets the words linger in the air between you, squinting a little and thinking them over before he hears the last announcement to get onto the train before its departure.

Regaining his composure, he gives you one last unreadable look, his hand rubbing over your shoulder with a sigh.

"Well, my times up. I'll see you soon."

The train leaves, and you stand there for another good minute, watching it disappear and the next one already arriving. A weird feeling settles in your stomach as you're left to wonder whether you were dreading or anticipating his return.

‧₊.࿐

"Well, who do you want to watch Mizuha while I'm away, huh?!"

You complain, rummaging through your dresser in search of your other sock.

Yaga sighs, suddenly glad the only responsibility on his hand was a panda cub. "I don't know. What about your freeloader loverboy?"

You roll your eyes, and Yaga can sense it even through the speaker.

"Are you even allowed to talk about a student like that…? And he's not my loverboy! Besides, Suguru isn't even here... Just- just give me a minute. I still have someone I could call…"

You hang up on Yaga's empty threat to drive off without you and open your window to send him an angry look while dialling the only other person that came to mind.

‧₊.࿐

Satoru wakes to the sound of his phone ringing and an empty bed.

His eyes blinked open dreamily until he groaned at the tragic reality of his cold bed and the fact someone had dared to interrupt the perfectly good dream he was having.

Reaching for his phone, he pulls it from the charger harshly, flipping it open to see who was about to get an earful of-

His mind goes blank, rubbing his eyes just to make sure he sees correctly before hastily answering, hoping some of the raspiness in his voice still remains.

"What's got you thinking about me this early in the morning, Kazuuu?" He draws your name out, and he's met with a brief moment of silence before you reply.

"...what do you mean 'this early in the morning'? It's two in the afternoon."

He pauses, pulling the phone from his ear to look at the clock, tauntingly blinking '2:47' back at him before trying to find an excuse.

"I- yeah, no, that's that I-"

"Did you seriously sleep til two in the afternoon?!" Your scolding pierces through the speaker, and he flinches away in pain.

His shameful silence speaks volumes.

"Whatever, let a man have a little nap, will you? What did you call me for anyway?" He sort of successfully manages to change the topic, and you sigh, deciding to let it go, considering you were about to ask him for a favour.

“I need you to babysit Mizuha. Please."

Satoru's mouth curves into a smile at your words, and he replies with as much honesty as he can, "Of course, you can bring her over and-"

"No! I…I won't have time. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to come over," you mutter, and he can practically see you playing with the ends of your hair as you say it.

"But I thought you didn't- I mean," he trails off, still a little confused. This was certainly not how he imagined your first invite into your home would sound, his heart pounding at the thought nonetheless.

"I know, but every other person I could ask left, and I'm in a hurry."

Satoru's heart was about to start aching at your dismissiveness when you softly added.

"...besides, I trust you."

His silence freaks you out, unable to see he had simply pushed his face further into his pillow, nose deep in an attempt to cool the blush and actually kicking his feet like a schoolgirl with a crush.

"I've sent you the address. Can you be there in twenty minutes?"

"I'll be there," he promises.

‧₊.࿐

"He's here!" Mizuha grins, standing on a chair to look through the peephole while you are still frantically marching in between your bathroom and bedroom in search of the extra med kid you'd usually kept in your leg holster.

Stopping mid-way, you squint your eyes at your sister, who is still poorly attempting to put the stool back in its original position.

"You're slow," you tease before opening the door and seeing your reflection in Satoru's sunglasses, standing somewhat tensely in front of you.

"Uhhh, Yaga is ominously watching your apartment in a black car with tinted windows, by the way…"

You can't help but chuckle and inform him that you were well aware. After one good glance at your attire, he could have guessed you were on your way to a mission.

Mizuha hands you the holster she had found, and you attach it to your thigh as you walk through your home, giving him a small tour and telling him all he needs to know.

"Mizuha isn't much trouble, so I'm sure you two will be fine. Just don't let her stand on chairs when you're not close by, and don't let her eat sweets for dinner."

He opens his mouth, but you cut him off.

"Yes, that also means you can't eat sweets for dinner."

Satoru hides his pout in order to ease your mind, and his gaze wanders over your form, admiring how good you look in that outfit. His attentive gaze is pulled away by your face, and he can't help but notice the unusually worried look.

"Hey…are you okay?"

Your head snaps up, and it only further confirms his suspicion.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm just stressed because Yaga is so impatient," you mumble, and your eyes never quite meet his, trailing from his left ear down to the collar of his shirt.

"Oh my god. You're totally lying."

Satoru calls out, a smile on his face due to the fact he actually managed to notice. You seem taken aback by the fact as well, so much so you let yourself slump a little before finally looking at him fully.

"Okay, fine. Can I just…tell you something? As a friend?" You bite your lip, and it feels weird to tell him what happened, but it is eating you alive, and you feel a bit of relief at the thought of getting it off your chest.

"Yes, yes, of course, anything."

He nods, and you look past his shoulder towards Mizuha, entranced by the TV in the other room, before taking a deep breath and figuring out how to possibly phrase this.

"Fine, but be normal about this. Suguru and I kind of kissed, and-"

"WHAT?! I mean...! Haha, please tell me more instantly." he tries to casually lean against the kitchen top, and you can see him claw at the wood from the corner of your eye.

"And now, it's really weird between us, I don't know. I went with him to the trainstation today, and we talked about it. I still feel like we left things just kinda as confusing as they were before and-"

Satoru couldn't hear you over the ringing. His mind screaming, and his heart was pounding as he tried to maintain an interested and focused smile. He was glad he hadn't taken his glasses off yet. Pretty sure one of his eyes had started twitching.

"…Satoru?" His name tumbling out of your mouth pulls him back to the conversation, and he takes a deep breath before choosing his next words.

"I am being soo normal about this." He says, but it's drowned out by the internal screaming anyway.

"I don't think you are…" You squint your eyes at him, and at the somewhat frustrated glare you give him, he suddenly grabs you by the shoulders like a madman.

"So! Normal! So normal you could even call it neutral! What a bland, non-day-ruining piece of information you've just told me! You know what? Let me think about this very casually for the rest of the day, and I'll get back to you with some words of wisdom." The smile he gives you is tense, and it scares you a little. You can see the stoic glint in his eyes, even behind the glasses.

"...Is your eye twitching?"

He ignores your question and starts pushing you towards the door instead.

"Mizuha and I are going to have so much fun, promise! I'll send you update photos!"

He kicks you out with a bright chuckle, and as the door clicks closed, Satoru lets his head collide harshly with it, his laughter fading out into a groan.

"I want to die."

Mizuha glances over the backrest of the couch before turning up the volume of her show and hiding with a frightful gulp.

Her efforts proved useless as it didn't take long for Satoru to collapse dramatically next to her, sighing until she finally showed him the mercy of asking what's wrong.

"I'm so glad you asked!" He squeaks before rambling about the tragic history of his one-sided, recently discovered feelings for you and the love triangle he now seems to be in.

"How come awful things always happen to hot, amazing people like me?" He sighs before perking up again with a fabricated smile. "But it's fine, right?! I'll be fine!"

Mizuha sees his eye twitching again and doesn't bother answering.

"Maybe it wasn't even that big of a deal. A small peck between friends," he scratched his head before halting and turning to make clockwise circles now.

"Or! Maybe it was a huge deal. Gigantic, like- like a full makeout session."

"I don't think you should be saying things like this in front of a three-year-old."

"As if you're even listening!" Satoru snaps before letting his head fall back as he groans.

"I feel like I'm losing something…"

"...your mind?" He halts in his tracks, his hair is already a little dishevelled, and he manages to look like you had with two full days of sleep depravity in just 3 hours.

"NO! It feels like I'm losing," he pauses and glances to the side, hesitant, "the woman of my dreams that I am courting very casually. Or something."

"How long have you known my sister for…?" Mizuha asked with brows raised, and he fell back down on the couch next to her.

"I've known your sister way longer than she might like to admit, you know. We go wayyy back," he shrugs with a smirk.

‧₊.࿐

Satoru had just finished playing with Mitaka, who was lying on the floor, eyes pinched together, and head turned away as the other boy put a bandaid on his knee.

"You're a Kamo, and you're afraid of blood?" Satoru had teased, and Mitaka just gave him a playful kick with the leg that was still in his friend's hand.

The two boys decided to take a break despite the fact that Satoru hadn't actually needed it. He could see Mitaka was exhausted and used the free time to wander around their estate curiously. Usually, when his mother and yours met up, you'd meet at the Gojo residence, and he liked the fact that your home wasn't as swarmed with servants and other people telling him what to do.

He halts in his steps when he sees you, hands raised in the air as you slice your finger open, face scrunching up a little at the pain before you press just below the cut and let as much blood drip into your palm as you manage.

He watches curiously as you start bending the blood, first into a small ball and then flattening it as thinly as you can before you gradually start to form four spikes extending from its centre. With one last mutter, you press it together as hard as you can, and the Shuriken solidifies in your palm.

Satoru thinks the self-satisfied smile that grazes your face is the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

He watches as you throw it gently into the air, how it hovers just above your hand before you throw it with as much force as possible. The whistling sound it makes echoes through the forest.

It is only when you follow its circling trajectory that you notice the boy who'd been watching you, and with wide eyes, you sprint towards him.

Gojo is too caught up in the fact you're approaching him at all; he fails to notice your panicked look or the fact he should probably activate his Infinity, considering the Shuriken that was aiming right for his head.

You pant a little, frowning when you see the boy still staring at you, starstruck, not even having the decency to thank you, and finally, you realise who it is. Your mother had forbidden you from speaking with Gojo a long time ago, not that she'd even let you anywhere near where he and Mitaka were playing.

"Are you incompetent or something?!"

"No one ever called me incompetent before…"

You huff, "Maybe not to your face." And your tone catches Satoru off guard; suddenly, he realises the predicament he was setting up for himself, and still, his heart pounded in excitement.

Your gaze tears itself away from him at the sound of your mother's voice, yelling that the cookie tray is 'looking awfully empty'. With closed eyes, you sigh, and it makes Satoru's chest ache to see your fierceness fade away.

When you walk past him to rush back inside, he grabs you by the arm, and you look back at him in astonishment. So he can move.

"W-wait! I’m Gojo, Gojo Satoru.”

You can't help but snort.

"I know, idiot."

‧₊.࿐

He finishes his story with a dumb smile, and Mizuha squints at him.

"So you like…being insulted?"

He scoffs in disbelief at her conclusion and walks into the kitchen to get started on dinner.

"That's not the point at all, god, you are being such a three-year-old."

"Well, at least you've calmed down now…" Mizuha grins as she trails after him, suspecting that Satoru might need a little help in the kitchen. Passing by your slightly ajar bedroom door, he sees a piece of clothing discarded on the floor and picks it up for you, placing it over the backrest of a chair Mizuha was totally not trying to grab just now.

He walks one step before a realisation hits him, and he halts. Turning around, Satoru gulps and pulls the fabric up in front of his face to inspect it closer.

Next to the small embroidered basketball team logo, he sees a familiar name lazily scribbled.

Geto Suguru

Mizuha, who had already halfway pulled a different chair into the kitchen, flinched together at his defeated cry.

‧₊.࿐

You return a little earlier to the two of them, still busy in the kitchen because you were admittedly worried about how Satoru would be able to handle Mizu.

But they didn't even notice your arrival, too busy laughing together as your sister showed him how to crack an egg properly.

They both fail terribly, and you announce yourself home by pushing them aside to wipe the eggs they cracked from your countertop and continue their poor attempt at cooking.

"We wanted to make Tteokkbokki!"

"And you decided the first step would be to crack two eggs…?"

They point at each other accusingly, and you pull the bag of rice cakes out of the drawer and let them soak in the warm water as you prepare the soup stock.

Mizuha is curious as to why you suddenly seem so content to cook, nearly making a comment about how you're "almost as good as Suguru" but refraining, considering Satoru had just calmed down from his second meltdown.

While stirring the noodles, you smile up at Satoru, who is still standing by your side, observing every single one of your movements with big, attentive eyes.

"I hope Mizuha wasn't being difficult."

Your sister scoffs behind you, mixing together the sesame seeds and sesame oil while you cut the spring onions.

"I'm not the one you should be worried about being difficult," she mumbles under her breath, and Satoru gives her a pointed glare.

Leaning behind you when you were focused on seasoning the soup stock, he whispers, "You're losing chair privileges for that comment, young lady."

Mizuha simply stuck her tongue out at him.

"You're not my dad!" But her hands grew tired from the stirring anyway, and so she still complied with his wishes, jumping down and returning to finish her show.

"What was that about?" You question as you pour the rice cakes into the stew, watching Mizuha waddle into the living room.

"Nothing! Did you know I actually had a dream about us where-"

"Go set the table."

"Okay, Kazu!"

‧₊.࿐

During dinner, you're surprised by how quickly Satoru and Mizuha seem to get along. Even with Shoko, it took her a while to warm up and come out of her shell, but the two of them were teasing and mocking each other as though they were childhood friends, and it did make sense that Satoru had a similar mindset to a three-year-old.

Satoru had insisted on helping you with the dishes and promised he would actually do something. Truthfully, you are somewhat impressed at how skillfully he manages to rinse off the chopsticks.

You thank him absentmindedly as you reach for a new kitchen towel.

As you turn back around, you bump right into Satoru's chest, his hands trapping you between his body and the counter, and you stare up at him, heartbeat quickening and cheeks flushing a little at the colour in his eyes.

"W-what are you…"

You can see the blue so clearly, no glasses in the way, eyes softened as they stare at you reassuringly and with longing you can't quite place.

" 'm just checking something…" he trails off, and you let your gaze move across his skin, standing so close you realise he does have a few imperfections that add a lot to the otherwise flawless face of his.

You let out a squeal when Satoru suddenly kicks his leg into the side of your ankle, tripping you to fall into one of his arms as you yelp.

"Satoru!"

He catches you before stepping away with a self-satisfied smile, pointing at you.

"You just called me by my first name and without my permission nonetheless," he teases, but his smile is genuine at the thought that you let him close this distance between you.

You frowned at the realisation, and Satoru felt alarmed, reaching forward to rub your shoulder in a slight panic.

"Hey- I was just joking. I'm happy! I want you to call me by my first name. You know that."

It takes a bit, but you give him a gentle nod, shoulders dropping again as you lean into his touch before excusing yourself, realising it was way past Mizuha's bedtime.

After tugging her in, you find Satoru sitting by the windowsill in the living room. Glancing outside, he can see the endless sky beyond the rows of dull apartment buildings, and he can't remember the last time he had taken the time to look out for his own home.

It's the only spot in your apartment you actually somewhat like, and the window, despite the fact it was north-facing, was large, and the built-in cabins beneath it often acted as a bench for you to rest on after a long day.

You join him, the two of you basking in the silence before you sigh and speak up.

"Can we maybe…talk about the kiss?" You still don't know how you feel about addressing it, but it still claws at you, and you had hoped Satoru might offer you some comfort, as he had admittedly managed to do quite a lot lately.

"...You did promise me some words of wisdom."

Your playful comment didn't seem to help much with easing the tension.

Satoru's heart aches. He wants to die. Again!

"Oh, I'd love nothing more than that."

You explain to him that despite the fact it felt right in the moment, it truthfully didn't feel like much thinking back on it. You and Suguru always seemed more like a couple in the eyes of others, and while you loved Suguru deeply, it would simply feel weird to add a romantic aspect to the deep relationship you already shared.

Satoru is torn between wanting what's best for you and wanting you as he listens along, and despite the fact that it feels a little wrong, he is relieved to hear you say this.

"Well…you can't help how you feel. Sometimes. Maybe this is your heart telling you that you want something else…someone else," He's being selfish, but at least, he justifies; he's being honest.

You sigh into the material of your hoodie.

"Or maybe…you know, maybe there's just something awfully wrong with me. Maybe you lose your ability to love when you're a Stray."

"Well, when you put it like that…"

You groan.

"Just joking! Just joking. Kazu, you are not only capable of love but also deserving of love. I know you won't believe me when I tell you that it wasn't your fault, but I still want you to know that you don't deserve what happened to you. Even if you think there is no punishment enough for what you've done, you can't keep denying yourself to live and love."

You glance up at him, and you believe you've never been so happy to have Satoru inch closer to you.

"...And laugh?" You taunt, and surprisingly, he's the one to roll his eyes.

"Okay, smartass. And I thought I was the one who always ruined the-"

A soft pair of lips, much softer than he had ever dreamed them of being, plant a kiss against his cheek. Your hand holds his other, pulling his face a little towards you, and as you pull away with a slight smack, you can feel that his skin is, for once, not colder than yours underneath your palm.

With just an inch of distance, lips grazing his face as you speak your next words.

"Thank you, Satoru."

Satoru thinks he might actually die.

"You're- you're welcome, Kazu."

The silence that follows is comfortable, and you enjoy that your arms are pressed against each other as you watch the stars

Minutes pass, and at one point, your head feels so heavy it leans against Satoru's.

"So…how did that kiss feel?" He grins a little, avoiding your eyes and pretending he'd find something equally as mesmerising as you in the night sky.

You chuckle.

"Let me sleep on it, and I'll get back to you with some words of wisdom, huh?"

"Oh? Is that your way of asking to see me again?" He leans over, and his eyes are so close to yours that you can see that tonight they're warm.

You hum, pretending to think about it.

"... We'll see if you become any more bearable."

chapter two | masterlist | chapter four

is this shit? I'm a lil eepyy.... i might proofread it one more time tomorrow morning!

much love, jae! 🩵

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takadokii · 1 year ago

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love these gokurakuguys

#queue-tie !!‧₊.࿐#🔭: just discovered !!‧₊.࿐#🔭: art tag !!‧₊.࿐

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takadokii · 1 year ago

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chapter two ‧₊.࿐ i dreamt of fishing in jeju / an honourable sacrifice

summary A Koi's fate is to swim patternless until the end in the same waters, never once seeking the ocean, never once searching for purpose. You sit by and watch and envy them in all their glory. warnings description of violence, swearing, mention of abusive behaviour word count 11.6k songs i always miss him lee sun hee, spring day bts, chamber symphony (quartet no.8), op. 110a dmitri shostakovich

"it's all winter here, even in august, my heart is running on time"

links collection ; masterlist ; taglist ; pinterest ; playlist ; misc

Kamo Miharu was born without honour, lived without purpose, and died without glory.

6th August 2001, Kumamoto

The kitchen is filled with the sounds of chopping scallions, boiling water and the soft voice of Lee Sun-hee, her most beautiful notes interrupted by split-second static noises. Still, you recognise the relatively easy melody as one you had once learned on the piano, and your fingers twitch along to the memory.

Your mother had her back turned towards you, leaning over the sink and plugging fresh magnolia berries from its cluster into a small bowl. Just barely, you can hear her sing along in stumbling Korean. You guess she must be missing your father more than usual today.

He had been gone for just short of a month now, and a tense atmosphere was gradually growing around the house. It is a tradition that men of the Jung Clan would meet to go fishing for weeks throughout the year, and it was something that your mother was never too fond of. Nonetheless, she understood that her husband wanted to uphold the relationship with his Clan, and luckily for all of you, she had received a heartfelt letter three days ago announcing his return from Jeju.

Home soon, have Cod.

Already familiar with his pace, she had been anticipating his arrival today, so you've spent your late morning preparing everything for his favourite dish, thinly slicing the ssukgat and peppers and preparing the tofu for the strew.

"Mom," you mutter reluctantly, "can I train later with Taki?"

She starts crushing the berries with a potato masher in such a brutal manner that the juice splashes everywhere.

"Haru. You know I'll need your help with the Cod once your father returns."

With the back of her hand, she wipes some of it out of her eye.

"And you know that your brother needs the extra training."

Her words make you frown as you start mixing the seasoning in a small bowl: gochugaru, the red chilli pepper flakes your brother always calls way too spicy, soybean paste, and fish sauce.

"Why? Just 'cause he sucks?" You hiss with a pout, just loud enough for her to hear.

"Haru. Watch your words."

Usually, your mother would give you extra chores for a comment like this, but she was high-spirited today and simply scolded you in the diminishing tone you were used to anyway.

The berries fall into the giant pot with a splat, and she turns on the stove before making her way over to you, leaning down to meet your eyes.

"Your brother was chosen by fate to inherit an incredibly powerful Technique of your father's Clan. If he proves himself worthy to the Higher Ups…"

She strokes her crimson-stained thumb along your cheek with a wistful smile, the kind you've never seen on her face before, and you can feel the stickiness of the jam mixture leaving residue on your skin.

"Taki could restore the honour of this family. Don't you want that, Haru?" She whispers as though not to let the gods hear it, fearing it wouldn't come true if she jinxes it in the small world of your kitchen.

A heavy drop of blood-red bitter liquid runs down her cheek, and you nod, if only to see her smile like that.

She turns away from you again, wipes her face from the remaining juice and continues humming along faintly to the song's ending.

The question still lingers in your mind, later at the dinner table, sitting across from your father and enjoying your stew.

Is honour something you're supposed to want?

The word in itself sounds foreign to you, and you feel like your mother when you say it, singing a language she doesn't speak as you repeat it in your mind over and over again until it sounds like nothing but an array of nonsense syllables.

‧₊.࿐

06th August 2006, Tokyo

"You're bleeding, Kazuha."

Yaga stands next to you with his hands neatly tugged behind his back.

It was new for him to ask you to meet him somewhere other than his office for post-mission discussions, but as you returned, he had already been ominously hovering by the pond, staring off into the distance.

"Oh." Is all you say, too entranced by the moonlight dancing across the water. It's close to midnight, and in this dark, you wonder how he can spot blood dripping from your arm down the hilt of your blade when you couldn't even make out a single flower in the pond.

You turn to search for his eyes but find a familiar darkness staring back at you, one in which you can barely see the outline of his face. Secretly, you had hoped he would pull out a cigarette, anticipating the heat of his lighter to warm your skin, to meet his gaze in those few seconds that the blaze would illuminate the space between you.

"What about the two kids?"

Recalling the mission, you see flashes of their terrified faces, remembering how they had clung to your chest as they caught your hand reaching out for them, practically leaping into your chest and thanking the gods for their rescue.

"They were injured but alive. Rio brought them to the hospital and notified their parents."

The words leave your mouth in a blur and feel drowned out, dull and distant, as though your head was underwater and your voice merely echoed above the surface.

Yaga lets out a satisfied grunt and tells you the money will be wired to your account by tomorrow. He turns to face you, but you don't reciprocate, knowing it is useless on a night like this.

"You should go home now. You look…tired."

You scoff. "Can you even see me?"

The words leave your mouth with a harshness you didn't think you'd have the energy left to. Once again, you barely recognised your voice; the only thing familiar about it was the anger laced into it.

"Well, you sound tired then."

You scoff again.

"Come on, don't you have any more missions to send me on?"

"Nothing that needs your attention specifically."

He shifts to walk away until you break the silence, still standing by the pond with a faint whisper.

"Don't do this to me, Yaga."

Rarely does your tone waver like this, fear and desperation evident in this voice that wasn't yours.

"Don't force me to…"

You choke down the rest of the words, and your chest suddenly feels heavy, a weight on you that you've been carrying around for so long that you had almost forgotten about it.

"What? Sleep?" He teases.

You click your tongue and turn away from him.

"Don't force me to live through this day again."

It's a choked sob at best; despite being so confident earlier that he couldn't possibly see you, you suddenly felt small under his gaze.

With a small sigh, he steps towards you and places an awkward, well-meaning hand on your shoulder.

"You'll make it through this day. As you have every year."

"So...barely?"

He snorts at your remark, but his grip on you still tightens in sympathy, relieved you still have the energy to deflect your feelings.

"I promise it will hurt less. With time."

You let out an agitated breath, and your eyes fall closed for a moment in which you hold back all that is clawing at your soul, scratching the inside of your throat in hopes of escaping. You feel numb, yet at the same time, all at once, every thought and memory lingering in your head hurts and overwhelms you, and all you can ultimately bring yourself to say is ―

"I'm tired."

You can hear that he's grinning as he huffs at your comment.

"I know, which is why you should go home…Is Mizuha sleeping at my sister's place?"

Your mind is at ease, briefly, at the thought of Yukari, who had lifted so much weight off your shoulders and helped you raise your sister with kindness you had never known possible.

"No, Suguru is watching Mizu tonight."

Yaga mutters some disapproving words under his breath, clicks his tongue and turns to head back to the school building, abandoning you at the mere mention of a boy.

"Well, especially then, should you go home. Sorcerers are no good at taking care of little girls."

You scoff for the third time and jog a little to join him.

"Yeah, you'd know."

He gives you a look and clears his throat.

"That's no way to talk with your teacher, young lady."

"Ah," you smirk, amused, "My apologies, Yaga."

He hums in approval, and at the gate, the two of you split ways with one last lingering look that tells you everything he's never been capable of sufficiently putting into words.

You watch as he walks back inside, probably getting ready to take care of all those missions he refused to assign to you, able to make out every step of the way. Seeing his form disappear into the distance, you wonder where the once-dark night had gone.

‧₊.࿐

The door of your apartment unlocks with two distinct clicks, and you tiptoe inside as quietly as possible.

Taking off your shoes feels oddly easy when you're not being tackled by Mizuha while doing so, and you miss her warm embrace more than anything right now despite the struggle it would normally be.

You don't bother removing the heavy clothes you wore for the mission; instead, you head straight to Mizuha's room. Her door is slightly ajar, a sight that causes your first full smile of the night. You push it further open, creaking at your touch and from across the street, the light of the neon sign from the convenience store casts a pleasant pinkish hue along the walls. Her body is splayed across the bed, hand hanging from the mattress with her favourite stuffed animal dangling off in a loose grip. She looks peaceful, and it eases your mind that nothing had happened while you were gone.

Tiptoeing as close as you can get, you kneel by her side, and you want nothing more than to tug a loose strand of her unruly red hair behind her ear and press a soft kiss to her forehead, but your fingers are still coated in dried blood, and your lips are chapped from all the running, so you hold yourself back for her sake.

You wonder what she dreams about, whether a nightmare is plaguing her. Wondering if she'd come looking for you when she woke up terrified or if Mizu's already so used to you not being here that she wouldn't even bother checking your door.

If she'd wait, awake until you came home longing for someone to save her as you had.

But as she sleeps, oblivious to the cruel world you had kept from her, the place in which the two of you were created, you made a promise to yourself she'd never have to feel as you did, sleeping with doors closed and locked, fearing that no one would pull her out of this darkness.

You leave her room and close the door just far enough so she can see your boots at the entrance and know you're back home.

Finding your way into the living room, you see a hand dangling off the edge of the couch, and you hold back a chuckle as you approach with much less intent to be quiet.

Suguru looked a little sweet, splayed out on his stomach, limbs hanging over each corner and the back of his sweater riding up a little. You could make out some old battle scars you still remember as gashing wounds in the infirmary.

Picking up the blanket he always refused to use, still resting neatly on the couch table, you try to cover his entire body with the soft material, and a content mutter leaves him in his sleep at the warmth.

Never had you expected a sorcerer of all people could sleep so peacefully.

You kneel by his side for a while, envying him, and the apartment is filled with nothing but the humming of the refrigerator and the soft ticking of the clock. Despite trying not to look, you catch it just out of the corner of your eye when you finally make your way into the bath to clean yourself up.

Midnight.

You sigh. You couldn't wait for this day to be over.

‧₊.࿐

07th August 2001, Kumamoto

"Taki…" you yawn, rubbing the remaining sleep from your eyes, body shivering despite the warmth of the rising sun beyond the mountains.

"What are we doing out here?"

Your brother doesn't bother answering you, only walks closer to the pond, kneeling and leaning forward to catch a better glimpse of the fish. You join him, gaze darting between the water and his awestruck face.

"Haru, did you know that Koi can actually get sunburns?" He proclaims absentmindedly as he observes them swimming slowly and patternlessly, as though they had just been woken up as well.

You hum acknowledgedly, attention shifting to his hands, clasping onto his knees, wrapped in bandages and calloused from the hard training.

"Probably not as bad as you, though," he turns to grin at you, and after giving him a playful shove, you kneel beside him, shoulder to shoulder.

You listen somewhat attentively as Mitaka starts listing the names of each fish, pointing at them so quickly you can barely follow his fingers.

"These ones are called Kin Showa! And this one's a Kohaku. You know, people say every pond begins and ends with Kohaku Koi," He smiles at you briefly, waiting to see your reaction, delighted to know that you were still paying attention.

You try to grin, but in your peripheral, you catch some of your red hair peering out underneath the black, and you hold it in yourself to sigh, knowing the aching process that would await you.

"-and these ones are called Hirenaga! Because their fins are so different, see!" He grips onto your shoulder, shaking you in excitement.

He keeps his hand there, holding onto you as his eyes trail after them in silence, and you admire the look on his face and how he glows as he smiles.

"I want to be a Koi fish in my next life," he whispers, and it's saddened and so genuine you don't find it in yourself to laugh.

"That's what you dragged me out here for?" You grumble under your breath nonetheless.

Just a second, you take your eyes off him, and in the next, you already see him, losing his footing, falling forward.

You hold onto his arm and pull him back so forcefully that you both tumble into the muddied ground.

"What is wrong with you?! Gods, shouldn't the Great Dragon of the Jung Clan have a little more grace than that?!"

You yell at him just quietly enough so your sleeping parents won't be able to hear.

He grumbles at you and wipes some of the dirt from his pyjama, pulling himself away from your body. You didn't mean to snap at him this way, and you knew that your parents and Yaga were already giving him a hard enough time as is.

"We both know I'm not…" he trails off and takes a few heavy breaths. Instead of finishing the sentence that burns so heavily on his tongue, he stares off at the Koi fish again ― longingly.

"Once I'm old enough, I'll leave Jujutsu behind and become a fisherman, like Dad. I'll walk around the coasts of Jeju and fish in all the seas. And I'll take you with me, Haru, and you can grow Lotus flowers."

He beams down at you, and you can't find it in yourself to hate him for how easy he makes it look to dream of a life so beautiful, so easy and without guilt or burden.

That morning, he gave you hope, and as your nails dug into the dirt, watching him lean over the pond once more with no fear of falling, you realised it tasted bitter like magnolia berries and honour.

‧₊.࿐

07th August 2006, Tokyo

Suguru woke to the sound of your humming, a song he had never heard before, something sizzling on the stove and a small gasp from Mizuha's lips from where she sat down on his chest.

Slowly adjusting to the light, he smiles up at the little girl, who giggles and lets go of the loose strands of his hair she was just playing with.

"Good morning, sleepyhead!"

She gives him a toothy grin, and he sits up, holding her in one arm to ensure she won't fall. Mizuha nuzzles her face into his sweater, and he plants a soft kiss against the side of her head.

"Is your sister making breakfast?" There's a playfulness in his tone, as it was established in this apartment that you only entered the kitchen as a last resort and always with resentment and rage.

Mizuha leans back to meet his eyes with a nod, and at the horror-filled look he gives her, she tells him that it actually smells good today.

Suguru decides then that there is no time for his usual dozing around and gets up with your sister still attached to his hip. Gently, he strolls over to you, back turned towards him as you mix and place another batch of batter into the pan.

He leans against the kitchen counter and lets Mizuha hop from his arms as soon as she starts wriggling to get out of his grip, letting her run off into her room.

"I thought you hated cooking," he muses, now that the two of you were alone.

You hum at his comment before turning around and accusingly pointing your spatula at him.

"I'm baking."

Suguru holds up his hands in amused surrender and walks around the counter to stand by your side and watch you flip the pancakes.

"And why are you baking then?"

Suguru can see it in your face, bloodshot eyes and jittery hands, your body very clearly running on its last bit of energy. He wishes he could have woken up sooner and offered to make breakfast, although he doubted you would have let him anyway. Still, he is overwhelmed with a desire to stroke his hand over your cheek and order you to rest for at least a little while. Even if it's just sitting on the couch together and letting him gently brush out the knots in your hair as you lay in his lap. His hand twitches to inch towards you.

"Did you sleep at all?" Head tilts a little forward to see the bags forming under your eyes, only filling him with more worry.

"Don't ask questions you don't want answers to," you glance up to meet his eyes and scrunch your nose teasingly at him, and he doesn't find it as amusing as you do at all. You avoid his stern stare by walking away and placing the last of the pancakes onto the plate.

Reaching for various toppings to go with them, you arrange them all on a tray, and Suguru reaches for it, but you pull it back before he can even graze it.

"No touching! Come on, just tell me what you're hungry for," you smile.

His eyes dart from honey, chocolate sauce, and magnolia berry jam up to your eyes.

He wonders if it would be so wrong of him to say you.

After finishing breakfast, not even your stubbornness can hold him back from offering to do the dishes and Mizuha, who had noticed you almost falling into your food five times, was also ready to help out so that you could rest.

Banned from touching any kitchen utensils, you can only stand against the counter and watch them wash and dry the plates in a cute domestic rhythm.

"You know," you try speaking over the running faucet, "I think you should really get home soon, Suguru. This is what your third- fourth night here?"

"Are you kicking me out?" He grins, avoiding the actual topic.

You sneer, "You know your mother is worried sick about you. She's already started texting me about how you are."

"Yeah, well, if she's really that worried, she should call me, don't you think?"

You walk to stand by his side, attempting to meet his eyes.

"I think she knows her stubborn son won't answer no matter how often she calls."

With a sigh, he washes and dries off the last plate, affectionately ruffling Mizuha's hair before helping her down from the stool.

"Yeah, well, it's not like I'm needed at home. Here, on the other hand…," he trails off playfully, and you kick his foot with yours.

"What? You're saying I can't wash a plate on my own?"

"Well…"

"Mmm, okay. Now I'm actually going to kick you out."

Suguru grins at your empty threat and follows you to help pack the stuff he left in your living room.

"I understand it, you know…" he begins as the two of you collect his books and put them at the bottom of his backpack.

"That you want to be left alone today."

It feels weird, and you're left to question if that is what you want as you mindlessly hand him his last sweatshirt and watch him zip up his backpack with a slight struggle.

To be left alone, you think. What a bunch of nonsense syllables.

‧₊.࿐

"Do we really have to?!"

"...we have to, little lady."

"What if I just wear a hat?! A reaaaallly big hat!"

Ayaka chuckles at your idea and continues mixing the hair dye together.

"I don't think that would work. Besides, when I dye your hair, you and your twin will truly appear identical! Don't you want to look like the Great Dragon of the Jung Clan, hm?"

"I don't wanna look like that wuss." You mutter under your breath, folding your arms angrily in front of your chest.

"Little lady!"

From the window in the bathroom, you can see Mitaka failing terribly to hold his balance or bow during his training session, and it distracts you from the cold feeling on your scalp as she begins to apply the paste.

Ayaka has been working for your family for as long as you can remember, always with a delicate, polite smile, calling you little lady and never by your first name like it wasn't actually her who told you stories of the stars when you couldn't sleep at night, who caught you after you took your first steps, who'd put money under your pillow for every tooth you lost.

"Ayaka…" you murmur, still entranced by your brother, mentally thinking about how you would have dodged Yaga's attack, what you would have done if you were him.

"Yes, little lady?"

"Are you scared of me?" When you catch your reflection, you can't help but pout about how absurd you look, black dye coating the top of your head and big stripes on your eyebrows.

"Well…right now, maybe," Ayaka can't help but giggle, as though it wasn't her who had defaced you this way, brush still in her hand.

"You know what I mean…people think I'm–" You take a hesitant breath, focusing on how the red disappears under the black paste, just barely shining through.

"...not a good person."

You could always tell when Ayaka was lying to you; her cheeks would flush, and her eyes would fall closed, as they were doing now.

"That's not true! Lots of people–"

"Don't lie! I know what mom is scared of, you know? I'm not stupid! I hear her late at night, pacing around. Yelling at Dad. She thinks I've inherited Karma's Technique, doesn't she?!"

As those words leave your lips, she suddenly clutches you by the shoulders, staining the old baseball shirt your father had given you and searches for your gaze in the reflection.

"Little lady, you mustn't speak her name so loud!" It burns a little, and you wonder if it's the chemicals seething through the fabric or her nails digging into your skin. She peeked out of the door, making sure no one heard you.

"I just don't get it," you pull yourself free from her grip and sit down on the stool, leaning your head on the windowsill as you watch and wait for the dye to set.

"You will when you're older, I promise," Ayaka beamed and pulled the plastic gloves from her hands, throwing them into the trash.

‧₊.࿐

"I still don't get it."

Suguru rolls his eyes at your casual shrug.

"I'm starting to doubt you actually read the book, you know…"

"Excuse me?! I read that stupid book front to back, I'll have you know!"

The beeping of the elevator saves the two of you from the rest of the petty argument you were going to have, and Suguru gives you a sour look, partially because you're "kicking him out" and because you fail to understand the literary masterpiece he had loaned you so graciously.

"Well, then keep it. And read it again, with your eyes open."

"Ha. ha, very funny. How 'bout you start sleeping with your eyes open, freeloader!" You start pushing his much larger body back into the elevator, to no real avail, though he still steps back for you.

"I'll come by later tonight." The doors start closing, and he tilts his head so you'll still see how serious he is about it. "You better be sleeping by then, or I'll knock you out!"

You scoff with a grin and hear the elevator rattle into the lobby. Lingering a little in the hallway, you hear the door across from yours open with a hesitant click.

"Kazu…?" Yukari mumbles from the other side, barely peaking her head out to look at you. Your eyes soften, and you instinctively trail into her arms before fully realising what you're doing. Her embrace is warm, and you still remember when your face would barely reach above her neck, but now you were almost towering over her, head leaning down to put your cheek on the crown of her hair.

She pulls back and cups your cheek with one hand, studying it with a pitying smile.

"I've missed you…why don't you get Mizuha, and you two come over for a cup of tea, hm?"

Her apartment still looked as you remember it, and you mourn your middle school years a little as you recall sitting in the seat across from you, tongue poking out of your mouth in concentration as you'd finish your homework until the sun would set.

Now that you were mostly living in the dorms, it was Mizuha who would always sit in that chair, you wonder, despite how ecstatic she was when you told her you'd get your own little apartment and she could decorate the room however she liked if Mizuha still thinks of Yukari's place as her real home.

Yukari pours you a tea, pulling you from your thoughts as you smile at her with a small "Thank you." Mizuha had long abandoned the table, prancing around the rooms and watering all the plants she hadn't seen in days.

"Is my brother treating you well? He's not too hard on you, is he?"

You chuckle at the thought. Yaga is probably somewhere getting his hands dirty with low-grade Curses for you right now.

"No…if anything, I believe he underestimates me."

Yukari laughs softly, knowing better.

"I doubt that's the case, my dear."

From the corner of your eye, you catch Mizuha in the kitchen to fill up her little elephant watering can again. Yukari had offered to watch her, thinking you'd rather spend time alone today. You were going to protest, but you didn't want to worry Mizuha more than you already had and simply thanked her.

"Mizu, are you standing on a chair?"

She turns to you, eyes wide and almost dropping her can, "Uhh…no! Of course not!"

She gives you an innocent grin, and with one jump, she suddenly disappears behind the countertop again. Eyes squint as you can clearly see the chair's backrest being pulled out of the kitchen hastily.

You click your tongue, and Yukari places her hand reassuringly on top of yours with a knowing smile.

"She's just like you when you were younger."

Your brows furrow, "That's what I'm afraid of."

She squeezes you a little tighter, staring at your hands and reminiscing when yours still fit perfectly in her palm.

"I went to the 5th-anniversary memorial at the Kamo shrine today…" Her voice is careful, and you can tell it's shaking by how she squeezes your hand a little tighter.

"I wonder sometimes…what you were like back then."

She recalls the painting they had on display, and despite how different you looked, Yukari felt her heartache at the sight of you, eyes closed and happy, so innocent and oblivious to the fate that would await you.

"Because your smile…"

Her hand leaves yours to trace your cheek again, her pointer finger gliding over the tender skin of the scar beneath your eye and her thumb finding the one on your chin.

"...it was lovely."

You let out a sigh, mixed feelings, your chest aching at the thought that Yukari was hurting. You don't have the heart to tell her you don't remember.

‧₊.࿐

7th August 2001, Tokyo

The Kamo shrine looks threatening, drenched in the rain, and it seems the clouds were only getting darker behind its grand pointed roofs. The giant Torii gate was a dull shade of red, decorated with luxurious, delicate ornaments and writings in bold golden lettering.

May fate find you, even in darkness.

You remember the saying from your mother's prayers at the dinner table, and you can feel her nervously kneading your little hand around in hers at the sight. Truly, you couldn't remember the last time she had touched your skin so willingly.

"Are you scared, mom?" Your brother utters, tilting his head up at her. He looked weird, wearing the expensive black and red Montsuki that he had only been allowed to unwrap at your last birthday before it was stored away safely, now drenched in the rain.

You were wearing a Kimono of your own in similar colours, receiving strange looks for wearing such heavy material on a rainy day like this as the three of you hiked up the endless stairs.

"Of course, I'm scared, Mitaka," she says this so harshly even you flinch a little, and you were used to every displeased tone that would leave her mouth, but this was different, fear wavering in every one of her breaths. It seemed strange that someone like your mother could ever feel scared. An emotion you assumed was only reserved for your brother and you.

"We'll get their approval, right?" She utters.

"Right," Mitaka and you reply simultaneously, and your mother reaches for the wooden ladle and begins to pour water over her hands, just as she had taught you to do when arriving at a shrine like this. You wonder how the rain that had drenched you on the way here, falling onto you directly from heaven, wasn't pure enough.

"I can't do this, Haru," your brother suddenly whispers, pulling you down to look at him. "Can't we do it like last time? Swi-"

"Taki, it's too late. You can do this," you grab his shoulders, "Mom trusts you, and I trust you. Just do your best, okay?"

"And if it's not enough?"

There's no time to answer as your mother calls you to the basin.

‧₊.࿐

7th August 2006, Tokyo

The memorial was lovely.

At least from where you could see it, standing just outside the shrine, glancing through its opened doors.

On the opposite end, you could make out the painting Yukari was talking about, just barely seeing it illuminated by the candles and surrounded by the smoke of incense.

A shaky sigh leaves your lips, and you still feel as small as you had five years ago, the Torii towering over you, resentment and fear churring in your stomach as you read the familiar phrase, still etched into it with slightly faded gold, over and over again.

May fate find you, even-

"Are you gonna go in anytime soon or…"

You jump at the sudden whisper directly in your ear, and instinctively, your elbow finds its way into the person's stomach, who stumbles back at the impact.

"Gojo!" you shriek, and your violent display turns a few heads, embarrassed you pull him down the stairs, away from the main entrance.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!"

Finally getting a good look at you, Satoru's eyes widened, partially because of how pretty you looked dressed up but more because of your concerning condition.

He ignores your scolding as always.

"Wow, you look… rough."

"Thanks, idiot. You really know how to make a girl feel pretty."

"Don't be like that! I think the sleep-deprived look is hot," he shrugs with a smirk, looking you up and down again, and you groan.

"What exactly is it that you're doing here?"

"My parents sent me. I'm representing the Gojo clan, mourning the death of family friends," he gives you a light shrug, and you squint your eyes at him.

"Well, I can tell you're heartbroken."

"Hey, don't blame me! Hard to feel sorry when I know one of them isn't even-"

You lounge forward and slap your hand over his mouth. Anger is welling inside you, and you fear it does not have as much to do with his words as you portray.

"Don't."

You shove him, a little harsher than the last time you had practically thrown him into the maintenance closer, "Gods, you're an insensitive asshole sometimes." Picking up the bottom of your yukata, you stomp away from him.

Satoru finds you moments later, sitting on one of the giant stairs, playing with the pebbles you found and arranging them in a looped line before you.

"I'm…sorry."

You don't acknowledge his presence, though the shadow he cast on your pebble arrangement was awfully irritating, and he sighs before continuing.

"I was being an ass. I just never had a brother, or a sibling for that matter… Not that I think that excuses what I said. I mean, I know your brother is- well, I'm sorry that he's…gone."

Death was nothing new in the sorcerer society, and for a family like Satoru's, saying their condolences was a rehearsed speech at that point. As you hear him stammer over his words, you can't help but smile, realising they are somewhat genuine.

"Well, I appreciate your attempt at being honest," you look up at him and pat the spot next to you so he knows you're not mad anymore. "even if you suck at apologising."

"Hey, I'm always honest with you," it sort of slips out, and when you turn to him, he suddenly feels exposed under your gaze despite it being what he usually longed for.

"Sureee, you are," you retort, disbelieving, thinking you can see a lying glint behind those eyes.

A silence settles between you. Not wanting to argue again, Satoru just scoffs, leans back on his hands, and stares into the cloudless sky.

"You know, I actually met him once...I guess you probably won't remember, but our mothers used to be friends. So sometimes, when she'd come over, Mitaka and I would play in the garden."

Satoru chuckles at the memory, failing to mention that he also vividly remembers seeing you, standing by your mother at all times, reading or writing or otherwise occupying yourself with study when you weren't needed.

His mother would swoon when you'd gently bow before approaching her table and offering to pour her another cup of tea or to restock the small tray of treats. She'd gush to your mother how she had also always wanted a daughter after Satoru and how impressed she was that you turned out to be so well-mannered and kind.

But Satoru could see how longingly you glanced at the grounds where he and Mitaka were playing, and when he had recognised that look of yours, something pulling at the depths of his soul, and he felt his heart beat for the first time that day.

"Your brother was a terrible fighter," he chuckles before fearing he was being insensitive again. But with one quick glance, he also sees you chuckle a little into the hem of your sleeve.

"Yeah, he really was."

A split second passes by, and the silence is comfortable. Satoru feels much better sitting beside you.

"Well, if you're scared to go inside, I can go with you, you know…" He fears you don't understand him and would believe he was implying you couldn't do it alone, but today, it feels like you're finally talking the same language.

"I'd really appreciate that," you smile, and when he gets up and reaches his hand out for you to take, you think of accepting it for a moment.

The shrine looks luckily much different inside than you recall; the giant black pillars don't seem to tower so threateningly anymore, and as you pass by the big steel lamps that had looked like clouds hanging in the sky, you realise you could reach them if you stretched out your hand.

But as you enter the main room, your breath is just as jittery as it was five years ago.

It still looks like a hauntingly empty chapel, on the opposite side a big round glass window with the memorial, and as you make your way over, you think you feel yourself walking through your brother's blood every step of the way. Subconsciously, you reach for the sleeve of Satoru's yukata as you had done with your mothers when you were here the last time.

He notices and wants to give your hand a reassuring squeeze but stops himself, despite how hard it was when he could feel your fingers grazing his.

He lit the candle he had brought, which looked expensive but pretty nonetheless and when you ask, Satoru tells you he picked it himself. Standing so close to him, you could feel the warmth on your skin before you pulled away and let him set up all the remaining offerings he had brought.

You step around the memorial with careful steps, and you feel weirdly exposed as though the people in the shrine, although few, were all watching you, whispering among themselves.

The fear drowns out when you stand in front of the painting, a humble but elegant gold frame surrounding it, and you still vaguely remember when the original picture was taken at your 9th birthday party.

You can't help but chuckle, seeing his tooth-gap-filled grin and remember how your mother would scold you whenever you'd knock one of his baby teeth out during training. Your hair looks just as strange as you remember it, completely black, yet next to the natural colour of your brother, it still seems a little red-brown.

In the painting, though, you can barely tell, considering the photo's only light source was the candles on your cakes. Your hand reaches to twirl a strand of red hair around your finger, basking in the fact you hadn't experienced the excruciating process of hair dying in so long.

Engraved into the frame, it reads.

"Mitaka & Miharu - Met the Fate of an Honourable Sacrifice"

A feeling bubbles in your chest that is somewhat indescribable, aching and pulling at the thought that this is your brother's legacy. Is this how he would have wanted to be remembered? Was this better than the fate that would have awaited you if people were to discover what truly happened that day?

Satoru's hand on your shoulder pulls you out of your thoughts.

"Hey…you okay?"

You smile up at him in a way that makes him think he's never seen a genuine smile from you until now.

"Yeah," you murmur breathlessly.

"It's not as bad as I thought it would be."

You turn to look at the picture again, and Satoru joins you.

"I just look stupid smiling," you shrug.

"What?!" Satoru gasps, head snapping towards you.

"That lil' dumbass had nothing to smile about," you point accusingly at your younger self, and Satoru jumps to her defence.

"Hey! Don't be mean to wittle Haru," he gives the inanimate object puppy eyes and pretends to scratch your younger self's cheek, receiving scolding looks from some of the elders.

Leaning forward, he takes the chance to get a closer look at the accuracy of the painting.

"I didn't know you've always had that scar." The one under your left eye looks somewhat old in the picture, and you think the person who painted it must have taken some creative liberty in making it a little fainter, knowing that it was more than recent on that day.

"Yeah…I remember when Taki and I got our first real weapons, he accidentally slashed my cheek open during the first practice because he tripped and fell," you smile, "that's when it was decided I'd be the one to get the sword and he'd get the bow."

"Just sounds like he got a weapon with more range to get you with," Satoru reasons, and you can't help but chuckle.

"Yeah, but he didn't have the aim anyway."

Your fingers reach out to trace along the engraving of his name.

"It's nice," you smile. "To see him again."

After another moment of melancholy lingering, you tug at Satoru's sleeve one more time, signalling you're ready to go.

As you reach the bottom of the stairs, about to part ways, Satoru finally does what he's been itching to do all day and reaches for your hand.

"Hey, do you maybe…," he pauses, "want to do something? Together? I just thought it would help to get your mind off things. We could go to the museum or the park, somewhere quiet."

You smile at his offer and still turn to stare at the floor hesitantly.

"I don't know, I just…"

"Look, I know I'm probably not your first choice when it comes to spending your day with someone, but we can just hang out at my place?"

Everything in him is screaming at him to be fully honest.

"I just don't want you to have to be alone today. If that's okay."

You wonder whether he's asking if it's okay that he wants to spend time with you or that he worries about you in the first place, though no matter what it is, your heart swells at the sentiment.

You look him in the eyes. The blue looks inviting, you think. Summer really suits him.

"Okay," you smile and let your hands fall into his, waiting for him to lead the way.

‧₊.࿐

Despite the sun shining brightly through his windows, Satoru's home is colder than you remember.

A shiver ran down your spine as you entered the apartment, barely filled with a splash of colour outside of gold accents and a bit of dark brown on some of the furniture. The rest of his home was a mixture of well-coordinated modern industrial with marble counters and leather accents and traditional Japanese opaque fusumas and washi lampshades.

You sit on his couch, careful not to stain it, knowing it was worth more than your whole apartment complex and watch with a bit of disgust at the number of sugar cubes Satoru throws into the tea you've so lovingly prepared for him.

You tell him about the missions you've been doing at night and the things you and Mizuha would get up to during the day, and while he worries about your health, he is simply glad you come back alive and somewhat well and are safe in this moment with him.

When you've long emptied your tea, and the conversation falls into a relaxed silence, the fruit tree in the corner of the room catches your attention, and you're shocked you hadn't seen it earlier, considering it was the only thing adding colour to the whole apartment.

Satoru smiled as he watched you, glad you were finally less tense. He had almost contemplated pouring his whole cup of tea onto the couch just to get you to ease up a little and show you all these things were nothing but objects.

"I just thought something living would make the house look a little more…homely."

He explains the plant and enters the kitchen to put your tea cups in the sink.

"Living…?" You mutter under your breath, which Satoru still hears somehow.

"Hey. Don't get sassy. It looks like a perfectly healthy lime tree."

"It looks like it's clinging onto its last bit of life." You walk to join him in the kitchen, reaching for a glass and filling it with water.

"And it's a yuzu tree, by the way."

Looking around, you reach for the scissors you see in a small cup on the kitchen counter and head back into the living room, hoping to resurrect the plant somehow.

He follows you and falls down onto the couch again, head tilted as he observes your nursing with a curious look.

"But the fruits are green."

"That's your own doing!" You scold over your shoulder, sitting on your knees as you pat down the earth, confirming it's scorched and watering it evenly.

"And besides, Yuzu don't normally ripen until October," you explain.

"I thought all fruits are ripe in the summer…"

You give him a disbelieving look before reaching for the scissors and searching for any dead branches you could cut off.

"Mizuha would have your head for this, you know. She loves taking care of plants."

"Really?"

Satoru gets up and walks to kneel beside you.

"Yeah, it's because our neighbour- well, she has quite a few of them, and Mizu always stays with her when I'm at the dorms," your voice trails off somewhat sadly at the thought before you put the first few branches into your lap and continue cutting.

"She's a lot like our brother in that sense. He was obsessed with fish and other sea creatures because-" You catch Satoru's smile and suddenly realise you've been ranting.

But before you can even think of apologising, he holds out his larger hands in the shape of a bowl and lets you place the cut-off branches into them as you continue working.

"Go on?" Gojo asks, almost pleadingly.

"Well… it's because our father would always tell us about his adventures on the sea. Throughout the year, he'd leave a few months to visit his hometown and always return with lots of stories and the most delicious Codfish. Taki always wanted to live in Jeju when he grew up…But his Korean was really bad."

You smile. It had been a while since you'd talked about these memories, and you realised just now how much you were bottling it up, how nice it was to tell Satoru about this and not as scary as you had initially thought it would be.

Your tone softens as you continue.

"I always admired that. Having something you want. And dreaming so freely of it too, I don't know, it sounds a bit stupid when I say it."

You take the branches and dead leaves from his hands and walk to throw them into the trash bin in the kitchen. When you return, you tell Satoru that he must move the tree to a spot where it gets more direct sunlight, and during the winter, it would probably be best to make sure it isn't exposed to the warmth of the house so the fruit can grow properly.

The two of you sit on the couch and admire the sunset as the Yuzu stands in front of it, its outline blocking just enough of your view.

You smile at the sight, and Satoru speaks up, still deep in thought about your earlier words.

"I felt that way too, you know," He glances at you before his eyes fall to his fingers, playing with the rings on them.

"When I was younger…I always knew I would become the leader of the Clan one day. I had no hobbies outside of training and studying. Every hobby I picked up was kind of…boring and pointless, really."

He recalls his primary school years when everyone had invited him to join their clubs just for the sake of winning, and no matter how good he was, he never got invited to go to the convenience store with them after the games to buy the only cheap sweets they could afford as a victory treat.

"In primary school, I…was never really included in anything, and I still don't know if they were scared of me or just didn't like me."

He remembers how they all started to avoid him once he quit the hockey team and started keeping to himself, hearing all the rumours and comments they made about him regardless. Their laughter was filled with malice, pity, and jealousy.

"I still don't know what's worse."

He shrugs, and you lean forward to look for his eyes, covered by strands of white hair falling in front of them.

"I mean, they were probably intimidated because I was so awesome! But I actually kind of liked playing hockey, so I was a little sad back then..." he explains, and you can tell even as he chuckles that there's still a bit of sadness.

You put your hand on his leg.

"I can imagine. The ice probably brings out those cold, dead blue eyes perfectly."

He gives you a nudge with his elbow, and when you shift to dodge it, you also turn a little to face him subtly.

"Well, I would have been your friend," you confess, somewhat mindlessly.

"Why? For the money?" He gives you a teasing look, and you bump your shoulder into his.

"No, I mean, it's definitely a bonus. But no," you reassure Gojo, "I think…we both could have used a friend back then. And it would have been nice to have an actually good sparing partner, you know."

He scoffs, humoured. "I would have won, but okay."

"Sure, in your dreams, maybe." He is probably right, but what was your purpose in this friendship if not to keep him humble.

"You know, actually…now that you mention dreams, I've been having this dream about you lately and I-"

"Ew, Gojo. Don't make this weird now, I was just feeling sorry for you."

‧₊.࿐

07th August 2001, Tokyo

Your brother is close to unrecognisable; a large cut on his forehead drenched his whole face in blood, and his eyes were barely keeping open anymore, breathing erratic and jagged at the same time.

"I'm tired," he croaks, and you wince when he coughs pinkish spit onto your arm.

You hold him even closer, and as carefully as possible, you pull his head into your lap. You don't know which bleeding to stop. It's so much you can't even tell where it's coming from anymore.

"It's going to be fine, Taki." Your voice shudders, and you wonder if he can tell you don't believe your own words.

"We'll be home soon."

He gives you a gentle nod and tries to smile, but his whole face burns and aches, so he simply lets his eyes fall closed, trusting you to bring him home.

You tear your gaze away from his body when you hear your mother, begging with her head to the floor, pleading to the Higher Ups who still sit unphased on their gold-decorated cushioned chairs.

The man, whom you recognise as a member of the Hei, and the Commander's biggest bootlicker, swings his katana in one swift motion. You can feel the gust of wind piercing even from where you sit on the other end of the room. The blood of your brother splatters off his blade, some of it landing on your mother's face.

"Please, Commander Enkai. Don't do this, he's-"

"Weak," Gakuganji interrupts and speaks for the Commander, still sitting unbothered, sipping her tea. "That's what he is. Are you really so foolish as to insult your Clan's honour with this?"

Their gazes shift towards Taki's limp body, cradled in your arms, and it is only Enkai who doesn't miss your shallow stare.

"As if you hadn't done enough by dirtying our bloodline with a fisherman's Curse. Don't think some lousy Inherited Technique the boy can't even use will change your fate, Koharu," the other Kamo of the Higher Ups grins.

Your mother's face was unrecognisable as tears streamed down her cheeks.

The Higher Ups laugh so loudly it echoes through the room, and you don't recognise your mother's face as tears stream down her cheeks.

You take a deep breath, eyes focusing on Enkai Kamo.

Blood Manipulation ― Compulsion

A shuriken, dark red and hard as steel, pierces through the air, and silence falls on the room as soon as it splits open the Sandalwood Backpost of the Commander's chair.

The man, who had beaten your brother half to death, did not have the time to fully grasp what was coming his way and a small gash formed on his neck, just deep enough for the blood to drip steadily down onto his white uniform.

Enkai lets out the last of the startled breath she was holding and is the first one to speak, realising what you had done with the blood of your brother that had been spilt so brazenly.

An intrigued smile would have found its way onto her face as she pulled the throwing star from her chair and inspected the blood of your brother you've compressed if it weren't for you, charging at the man still standing on the battlefield with an ear-piercing scream.

"Who do you think you are?!"

Despite jumping at him with such speed you almost stumbled over your own feet, he still finds enough time to react, and with the end of his katana, he lands a blow on your cheek, and you hear something crack. Falling to the ground, you can feel flesh pulsating under your busted open skin.

His chuckle makes your blood boil, and you don't think as you activate your next Technique. The only thing echoing through your mind are all the nonsense syllables you've been told over the years ― honour, vengeance, fate, purpose, glory.

Approaching you presumptuously, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls back his other fist, charging directly at your face. Your focus stays on his eyes, pupils dilated, nothing but barbaric bloodlust behind them and your own mirror them almost identically.

Karma's Technique ― Overturn

Angry patches of red sizzle and cover your skin, and you ignore the aching as you reach for his face and scratch at anything you can get. He throws you to the floor when you make contact with his left eye.

He stumbles back. Seeing your advantage, you jump to land another blow when suddenly your whole body freezes in its movement and for a second, it feels as though even your heart stands still.

With much strain, your gaze shifted back towards the Higher Ups, and the Commander finally got up, her hand stretched out towards you, holding you in place with her Technique, one of the most powerful in the Kamo Clan, to control another's blood and bend it to their own will.

"Fascinating," she utters and releases you, falling to the floor and gasping for air, your heart pumping at a speed you've never known.

The man is kneeling just a few steps away from you, screaming and writhing in pain as dark red markings cover his skin, patchy blood red like the one that had slowly started to disappear from your skin, find themselves onto his now, covering his whole body and sizzling as they burn themselves through his flesh.

So entranced by what you've done and the agony you can see in the one eye he could still keep open, you don't notice the Commander walking down from her podium to grab you by the wrist. She didn't seem scared to experience the same fate as the Hei member, as you both knew she could kill you in an instant if she wanted to.

"Karma…?" She hums, somewhat pleased, and throws your body, still unable to properly move back onto the ground.

She walks back up to her chair, placed in the middle of the sizeable half-moon-shaped table and speaks with her back towards the rest of you, all either sobbing or dying at her feet.

"Jung Koharu, I punish you exiled from the clan for as long as your children live."

The man's upper body was still somewhat intact, and the burning red patches started eating at his flesh. He interrupts her announcement.

"Ple- please, Commander, save me. Save me, for fucks sake!"

She kicks him off her leg with disgust, muttering to the closest guard to "get that idiot a nurse or something" before she wipes off the stains he left on her pants and sits down again.

Your mother attempts to protest, but the guards grab her by the arms and slowly start to drag her out of the shrine, another carrying the body of your brother.

You watch them leave through what little vision you have left, still unable to concentrate on anything else than your ragged breathing as you twitch on the floor.

"And you," everything feels drowned out, yet the Commander's voice is clear as it rings through your head. You feel your body being lifted harshly, thrown over a guard's shoulder as he carries you to a different side of the room, one you had barely noticed before.

You can feel yourself inching closer to heat, and your instincts start to kick in just a little too late, your attempt at escaping his grip useless as your head is suddenly thrown against cold steel.

"Let's hope we meet again, little Haru. So I can grant you a proper death."

You hear ringing, and suddenly, everything hits you all at once, the heat that feels so close, the cold anvil you were pressed against, the sadistic stares of the Higher Ups.

"But for now…" she smiles. "Let me give you something to remember me by."

You feel the guard pull something out of the fire, and as it sizzles against your skin, the only thing that runs through your mind is the way the sunset in that large window behind them, the radiant glow that fell from their table and failed to ever reach you.

‧₊.࿐

You wake up with a gasp, your head pulling away from where it had comfortably rested against Satoru's shoulder, and your frantic panting pulls him from his slumber as well.

Your hand snaps to reach for the skin behind your ear, disappointed to find soft, scarred skin, erasing any hope that this dream was a nightmare rather than a memory.

Satoru looks worried, but you can barely hear him over the headache and the thumping of your heart as you excuse yourself for overstaying your welcome and stumble towards the entrance.

He reaches for your hand, but you're gone too soon, and the door slams in his face. He sighs, the warmth of your head on his shoulder still lingering.

The walk home passes by so quickly despite the fact it took you close to an hour by foot; the whole way, it feels as though your head is underwater again, lotus swaying and your voice drowned out as memories of Miharu haunt you with every step.

You only realise how late it has gotten when you arrive at Yukari's door, and she opens the door with half-lidded eyes and a blanket draped around herself.

You find yourself standing by the couch, frozen at the sight of your Mizuha, where she had fallen asleep waiting for you to pick her up five hours ago.

You kneel by her side, and this time, you allow yourself to stroke the soft lock, ticking her nose away from her peaceful features.

"Mizuha knows today is hard for you. She wasn't mad," Yukari whispers, bending down a little to rub your back.

"Still, it doesn't excuse that I- I should be better than this. For her." Carefully, you pick her up and carry her into the room the two of you used to sleep in when you still lived here. Yukari had already made the bed, and you placed her down and draped the soft covers over her with a dejected smile.

The two of you sit silently for a while, finding comfort in the clock's ticking, knowing that the day is finally nearing its end.

Yokari places her hand on your cheek, letting you fall onto her shoulder, stroking your hair as she used to do in those first years you lived with her when you were still plagued with memories nearly every night.

"Mizuha knows you're doing your best to keep her safe."

You give her the best smile you can muster before pulling yourself from her embrace and walking to the door.

You sigh, and your voice is shaking as you speak.

"It's not enough."

‧₊.࿐

The bath water feels a little hotter than usual today, and it prickles your body as you watch the slight movement along the tub's edge with every shift in position.

It frustrates you that this isn't as relaxing as you had hoped for it to be, and you clench your fist and dip your head under the water, staying there and enjoying the quiet that greets you.

You come back up with a gasp when you hear two clicks just outside the bathroom; reaching for whatever is closest, a blue toy boat from Mizuha, you aim it at the slowly creaking open door.

With a soft smile on his face and his hands covering his eyes, Suguru peaks his head through.

"Do you want me to wait in the living room?"

For a second, you contemplate throwing the boat anyway, not even to test if he was peeking through his fingers but really just to see if he'd react fast enough.

But you decide against ruining the toy and glance down at the bubbles that reach so high they even cover your hiked-up knee.

"No, it's fine, you can come in."

His eyes find yours, and you don't feel the least bit exposed as he sits down on the edge of the tub, perhaps because you miss the way Suguru stares hungrily at every bit of skin he can get, attempts to remember the soft curve of your shoulders to the edge of your collarbone, gulping when he sees one of the Symbols trailing down and disappearing behind the bubbles.

It's not even your body alone that riles him up right now but the fact you felt comfortable enough to let him see you, and he does his best not to let it show.

"What were you going to do with that?" He nods at the small toy you are still holding, and you place it back to the others.

"Knock you out, of course."

"Oh, really?" He muses before leaning a little closer over the water to get a better look at your face.

"You slept a little, didn't you?" He states this with so much joy that you realise it would feel weird to tell him who you were snuggling into during that nap, for some reason.

"A bit, yeah…"

"I'm glad. Do you want me to get you some clothes to get changed into?"

You nod at him, rinsing off the last shampoo in your hair as he disappears into your bedroom. You're in the midst of drying yourself off when his hand pokes through with fresh garments, and you place them by the sink with a smile at his choices for your sleepwear.

Even after you're dressed and your hair is only a little damp, you look pretty, and Suguru hoped he could finally help you get some well-deserved rest, if nothing else.

He sits by the edge of your bed, and you stare at him with half-closed eyes. Casual, mindless conversations fill the room as he tries not to smile at your drowsy words that barely make sense.

"I was in Kumamoto," he confesses, "at the grave. It was nice. Lots of candles and offerings. I saw that picture of you and Mitaka as well. You looked cute as a kid."

You assume it must be the same picture you saw today, considering not many other happy photographs existed.

"So you don't think I'm cute now?" You slur, hands under the pillow as your head snuggles further into its soft fabric.

"You don't need me to tell you that." He reaches over to push a strand of hair behind your ear as he recalls the picture, "But…I do think the red suits you better."

His compliment makes your heart swell and ache a little at the same time.

You're a little scared as you place your fingers on the hand still resting against your cheek, fearing you might hurt him, but his eyes, filled with trust and admiration, reassure you enough to lean into his gentle touch even further.

"You didn't have to do that, you know. Travel all that way just for me."

"I know, but I wanted to. And I think…I needed it to get away from Tokyo for a while. It was nice, the train ride was pretty, and I walked around the mountains. I placed some incense for you on Mitaka's grave."

During his explanation, you see his eyes dull for a moment, brief enough so you don't think of addressing it.

You intertwine your hands and move them to rest gently between you as you sit up.

"And I placed some incense on yours as well."

He still recalls pulling out the lighter you had once lazily scribbled your initials on ("So whenever you light a cigarette," you had giggled, "you're reminded I disapprove of this!") and lighting the small wooden stick with it. The corner of his mouth had tugged upwards at the thought you'd also disapprove of this.

"I did it for me. Mostly. It just happened when I saw that picture of you," Suguru trails off, "I've never seen you smile like that. So, I had something to mourn. In that moment."

Looking back at you, he wonders whether your eyes are watering or just glassy from the lack of sleep. But for once, he can't bring himself to reciprocate your gaze, confidence wavering under your intense stare and his own travelling down to your intertwined hands.

His heart is racing at this point, and the only thing on his mind is how soft your skin is.

You lean up, and finally, his eyes find yours again, briefly. Right after, you can see them shutter closed as your lips find his, softly grazing at them before pushing yourself further against him, hand squeezing his as you kiss him, fully.

He allows himself to be selfish. Just for this moment, he doesn't think about anything else, not even Satoru or the fact that you're quite possibly the sweetest thing he had ever tasted and how he knew everything else would pale in comparison. He moves his other hand from where it was clutching your blanket to holding your face, pulling you into him so desperately, finding every bit of exposed skin he can get his hands on, stroking along the curve of your jaw before letting his fingers trail down your soft neck.

You pull away and look at him with hesitance but a readiness he wasn't expecting. He had half hoped you'd push him away. Knowing how hard it would be to let you go again, now that he'd gotten a good taste.

Moments pass, and you never leave each other's lips. Suguru revels a few more seconds in the soft noises he can draw from you before he pulls himself away from your body with a shaking sigh.

"You should," he's panting, and he can't bring himself to look at you, staring up at him with such innocent confusion.

"Sleep. I will- I'll wait in the living room till you're asleep to leave, okay?"

He leaves your door slightly ajar and doesn't actually make it all the way over to the couch. Instead, he falls with his back against the wall, still out of breath, the look in your eyes never leaving his mind.

When he finally hears your soft snoring, he walks over to your side, relieved that you are finally getting the sleep your body has so desperately craved.

One more, he tells himself, unable to imagine how the aching could get any worse than this as he places a lingering last kiss on your forehead and leaves you to rest.

‧₊.࿐

07th August 2001, Kumamoto

Your skin aches.

And you can feel your whole body still trembling, threatening to fall with every shaking breath.

You've already grown used to the feeling of the water, cold where it reached just below your knee, standing so long and so still, the fish had already started to dare and inch closer to you. You're tempted to go further, hoping it will ease your burning. You wonder if the last bit of colour will wash out in the water as quickly as it had done in the rain and spread through the pond until it looks like black tar. Your hands are quivering now, almost entirely red, as they clutch and claw at the fabric, halfway drenched, pulling you further down.

You let your hand find the earth, just below the imprint that was still left from this morning, where your brother had fallen and with one touch, patches of blistering scarlet spread around the pond like a wildfire, entranced as the plants glow before they welk dark brown and black, the lotus, blooming to it's fullest before their roots wither and they fall into themselves. Even the Koi shimmer red, sunburnt, before they halt in their once playful movement.

This life of a Stray is no life you can live, you realise, and you can't tell if it aches that this is your end or that you don't find much to mourn. You walk in the pond slowly and steadily and join the fish in their lifeless floating underneath its surface. Even beneath the blackened water and foggy vision, the moon looks pretty, and you stretch a hand out until you can only see it through gaps between your red fingertips.

After a while, strands of red hair dance around you like blood vessels, beginning to block your darkening view.

You don't mind, contempt with closing your eyes now, when suddenly you see your brother reaching for your hand as he screams a name that isn't yours anymore.

You're too slow to stop him from falling as his skin finds yours so fearlessly.

Miyazaki Kazuha was born from dishonour and lived to be everything Miharu had never dared to dream of.

chapter 1 | masterlist | chapter 3

Hey guys! I know it's not much new, but I hope you still enjoy it!

even more so, i hope you've had a wonderful day and we'll meet again in the notes tomorrow!

love you, jae 🩵

#queue tie !!‧₊.࿐#icymi !!‧₊.࿐

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