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ny-nymeria · 7 months

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He’s back 😉

What if Toji survived his fight with Gojo and landed on your doorstep?

(A trope I couldn't get out of my head that I left in draft for ages... Enjoy!)

You found him bloodied and beaten over a crushed bed of lilacs, the smell of iron mixing with the floral scents of your garden. A large gash in his right shoulder and abdomen you swore any normal human would instantly greet death with, sweat and mud caked over his tattered clothes, you thought in absolute he was deadman until you pressed your head into his chest and heard a faint heartbeat.

“Get the hell off of me.”

The rap in his voice was followed by a bloodied cough.

Visitors were rare and even moreso to find this mess of a man on your property. Life had been unfortunate irony: you were a doctor until recently getting sick yourself. A bad case of pneumonia, leading to complications and a long road to recovery.

You coughed into your sleeve of your dress and placed your hands on your knees to stand.

“Can you stand?” You asked blankly.

The man kept his eyes shut, looking more annoyed then in pain and after a short moment gave a groan, the bright morning sunshine contrasted his grim features and refusal to give an actual answer.

“Come inside when you can.”

Turning with your heels you walked back into your house. He had never seen someone walk so delicately and speak so simply to him, the sorcerer killer, Toji Fushiguro.

He was a monster. Well, at least his former clan had deemed him one- a beast that defied sorcery with the sheer physical strength of his fists. A person with no cursed energy to his name and yet easily the most menacing person to come out of the Zenin bloodline.

Toji didn’t have any other options: no place to belong or to heal. he could continue to bleed out on the flowerbed or follow a strange, feeble looking woman into the antiquated cottage. His body declined to die and he found himself on his stomach while his forearms pulled his body from the ground until eventually getting to your door.

When he arrived you’d already made a bed for him: a spare room across the hall from yours with a paneled window with the view of the garden and a nice spring breeze. A view of the cobble stoned pathway with a colorful spread of flowers, herbs and fruit trees. Seeing that you knew he would need to be cared for in the next coming days.

He was confused and close to delirium, not having the strength to question your motive and fell into bed. He was barely conscious at this point, barely awake to feel the cool metal of a pair of scissors cut away his clothes a string grip came over your wrist.

“You’re safe,” were words you knew couldn’t quell the danger he still felt in his bones, feeling a lifelong tension in his spine that couldn’t break even if he tried no matter how many times he swung his sword or pulled the trigger of his gun. Your kept your focus on his injuries but seeing the converging scar lines across the span of his broad body.

You first cupped his face with one hand to wipe off the caked dirt and blood from his face, running the warm towel across his jawline down his neck. He didn’t seem to care, keeping his eyes closed and only scrunching his face in pain whenever his body shifted. You squeezed the towel above a bowl, the water a reddish brown color and smelled of iron. You finished his neck then moved onto his chest, before cleaning his chest wound giving him another rolled up towel.

“You’re going to need this,” your eyebrows stitched together to prep the area for stitching. You had little to work with, the next hospital for hours, and you had a feeling the man wouldn’t want to go and be known. You pushed the towel to his lips and he looked up at you with narrowed eyes, opening his mouth to bite down on the towel as if he’s done this before.

Much to your surprise he was silent aside from a clenched jaw and balled fists of bedsheet while you cleaned and stitched him together. He felt the warmth of your wrist; the touch another human relaxing just enough to drift to sleep. When you realized he either fell asleep or passed out from the pain, you choose to believe in the later.

***

The next thing Toji woke up to was the smell of bacon and eggs.

When he opened his eyes and came to he was bandaged up meticulously by the work of you and in better fashion than he could ever do. He could still feel steering pain but it was manageable, the smell of an analgesic stuck to the cloth around his body.

He walked into the hallway and through the kitchen where he saw you in the clarify of the morning light: compared to him you looked so delicate, tip toeing to reach for a box of pancake mix on the highest shelf. Your features so soft and when you turned to smile at him he couldn’t help but instantly feel disgustingly warm.

“Good morning,” you greeted him while dropping pancake batter into a pan.

Toji kept a scowl on his face while grunting a reply,

“I gotta go-“

“Aren’t you going to stay for breakfast?”

Toji looked at you dumbfounded, watching you take two plates stacked with breakfast foods to the dining table nearby, shutting the fridge door with your foot once you wedged a bottle of maple syrup between your chest and forearm. What surprised him even more was the pull he felt towards you and suddenly finding himself already walking towards the dining table where the two of you ate quietly.

“What’s your name?”

That was the first question he asked you. You told him your name and he went back to eating his food like a starved man, after having one bite of a warm fluffy pancake his empty stomach instantly caved to hunger.

“I’m going to head out out.” you heard him grunt trying to get up from the chair.

“Do you know a doctor?”

The man’s scowl returned.

“Do I need to know one, lady?”

You chuckled, pointing your fork to his chest. “You may have raw strength to move but you’ll bleed out again if you move too much.”

Silence befell him again; you could tell how frustrated he was by the way his large fingers tapped on the wooden table.

“How much time do I need?”

“Hmmm… I give it about two weeks.” You hummed.

“Two fucking weeks?”

“Not counting the last three days you were asleep…”

“Three fucking days!?” He slammed one of his fists into the table and instantly winced, feeling his chest become wet.

“It’s up to you but it doesn't seem like you have other options. Otherwise I wouldn't have found you in the garden, which, you will replace my flowers after this." you smiled, "So stay and live or go and die.”

He watched you sharply, taking a bite of pancake before looking down and realizing something...

“You changed my pants?”

The lack of blush over his cheeks perplexed you. “Don’t worry, I didn’t look-“

“I don’t care.”

Toji never asked to stay, he merely choose himself than to your command. You just kept him company, rewrapping and checking his wounds every morning noon and night, with pain management at every hour. Making medicinal pastes from the garden as salves for his scars, later learning that they were something he didn’t seem to care about because he had so many.

“Smells funny,”

He’d comment each time you slathered the medicinal paste across his chest, and each time you’d chuckle and say it’s the lavender.

“Why are you helping me?”

He asked the first time and your response was a shrug.

“Because it looked like you needed it,” you replied each time and quietly he started to find himself slowly believing you, not from your words but by your actions. Despite his rude, bullish behavior you kept by his side, even during the nights where the pain would flare up. Staying at his bedside and even when either of you hadn't spoken any words.

The week went by and when Toji was cleared from your care he left without saying thank you or goodbye.

***

Many days passed until one night your symptoms began flaring up. It felt like a frost entered your body, the shiver cutting into your bone and yet a sweat that dampened the towel you placed over your head.

You were so weak, bedridden and alone until one night you heard familiar footsteps.

“Toji?”

“I came to see you,” he said blankly. He brought out a box of potted plants and flowers and you realized he'd come to fulfill his promise of replacing the flowerbed he destroyed on that faithful day the two of you met.

“These are the plants you wanted…. Right?”

“Yes! Although I’ll have to plant it tomorrow during the day…”

“Okay? Well," he was about to turn when he saw the balled up tissues in the trash can by your bedside, noticing the small blood splatter in the creases.

"Are you sick?"

“I-I'm fine," you breathed, "Just a cold... But, would you like to stay over and these planted?”

He stare was blank but looked calm compared to his usual scowl. He nodded, walking into the spare room once again.

The next morning the two of you had breakfast and he followed you out to the garden to watch you plant the flowers. You were in your sun hat and dress, crouched over the dirt with a hand shovel and began to dig. Halfway in you started to have a coughing fit, dropping your tools and tumbling to the ground.

Toji scoops you up in his arms and brings back in. "Are you okay?” His voice sounded urgent and foreign to him for caring about another.

“Yes-“ you coughed. “S-sorry. It happens sometimes…”

His eyes scanned for any wound but found none. He saw blood on the corner of your sleeve you had covered your mouth with.

“Are you sick?” He asked again.

You chuckled in his arms. “Sort of, I’ve been sick for awhile. I should be getting better but it’s been slow. Some good days some bad days-"

“I’ll stay until you get better,” before you could protest he brought you back into your bed, opening up the windows and covering you haphazardaly in the bedsheets. You weren't sure of his methods but seeing that now you were the one who had no other options, you complied.

***

Toji didn’t know how to care for anyone but himself. Treating people with love and care was something Toji denied himself of because he believed a person like him didn't deserve it. He enjoyed the risk of life, unhinged and feral from gambling, women, bounty hunting…

Until he was beat by a teenager. That Gojo kid brought him to death’s door until somehow he was able to escape.

You started coughing again, the fit this time shock waves through your body. You gasped for breath, clutching your chest. When that happened Toji held you firmly, not saying a word but watching you very intently. Once the coughing went down he plopped you into your bed and wrapped you in your comforter while he left to get you medicine.

Toji even tried to recreate your medicinals, handing you a cup of tea with a muddle of familiar herbs at the bottom. The leaves were fresh and so was the slice of lemon in it.

“Is this from the garden?” You asked.

He grunted. “It’s the stuff I’ve seen you have in the mornings… I don’t know what it is… It’s probably all wrong…”

You smiled, pressing a hand across his cheek as a thanks before holding the cup to your lips.

“It’s perfect, thank you."

Suddenly Toji found the warmth in his cheeks to rival the tea cup in your hands.

***

Too weak to lift an arm. Damn.

“You’re cold,” he saw your shivering.

“I'm okay-"

He scoffed, "Hypocrite."

Toji could hear your teeth chatter and huffed in frustration, leaving you this time only for a few minutes to return, pull you out of bed and carrying you to the bathroom where he drew a hot bath. He turned his back to give you privacy but kept himself there to make sure you could get in and out of the bathtub, sitting down on the tile floor while leaning his back against the porcelain while you slipped into the hot water.

"Why are you helping me?" You cut the silence with this question.

"Because it looks like you needed it," you chuckled at him using your words against you and for the first time heard his laugh, imagining that he smiled to himself while you relaxed in his presence.

***

It was night and Toji was gone. You’d been feeling a lot better and could be on your own. By now it was winter, he had spent weeks if not months with you, time seemed to blur while his presence in the home became inherent.

He fixed a the fireplace up for you to huddle under while he was away. Toji was late and when he came home he had bruises and scratches all over him, cuts that weren't life threatening. A familiar dull expression on his face when he saw you had stayed up waiting for his return to see him in this state. Toji dropped his weapons at the door and walked over to you on the couch, sitting closely where your shoulders touched.

“Are you hurt?” You whispered.

He shook his head no.

“I just had unfinished business to tend to.”

Silence, until you mustered up a question you had been dreading to ask.

“Toji, are you going to leave?”

At that moment something in his expression broken. He looked at you closely, feeling his heart tug, wanting so desperately to be seen and heard. He knew you knew his horrible past and reputation still requested his company. Him, out of all people.

Toji reached over, tucking rogue strands of hair behind your ear before holding your face with his large hand. Once he heard your breath hitch and watched as a beautiful rosy pink that he knew wasn't due to a fever forming on your cheeks, he reached down and kissed you, slow and warm until your bodies craved oxygen.

“I want to stay with you. Abandon the life I’ve lived because up until now, it wasn’t really living at all."

You whispered his name and took him into your arms and he rest his head on your chest, embracing one another until the fire crackled down to embers, becoming each other's rib by next morning.

***

Zero proof reading lol. I hope you enjoyed this quick drabble! <3

#toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fluff #toji x you #toji x y/n

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ny-nymeria · 10 months

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Heaven and Earth: Part 20

AN: It's been awhile! I've decided to re-attempt revising and posting my first Gojo fic. Heaven and Earth is a series, so please check out how the whole story unfolds! -Nymeria

Chapter 20: Goodbye For Now

It's been a little over a week since the last time you saw Gojo. Since Suguru was on the run the school was on high alert and most missions had been canceled as the higher ups and instructors deliberated on the next course of action against the defected student. In quiet passing, Yaga had informed you that all sorcerers were ordered to kill Suguru on the spot if he was ever found. You tapped your foot anxiously, sitting next to Yaga's doll-cluttered desk as you watched your sensei read over documents.

"The higher ups want you to go back to Kyoto."

"But why?"

His glasses were already off revealing his furrowed brows. "We don't know what Suguru plans to do. They want to bolster the schools' security and ensure each has enough sorcerers."

"But what's what Master Tengen is for-" as you tried to argue, Yaga handed over a copy of the written orders from the higher ups, eyes scanning over the papered bureaucracy.

"Master Tengen is in agreement with this plan." You looked away and tried to think of any sort of logical rebuttal.

"... I don't want to go."

Yaga sighed, looking at you sympathetically. "How are you and Satoru?"

A pang of sadness built in your gut. 'How even are we?' Since the fight - you've had no calls or messages from him. During meetings you two sat relatively far apart and no one dared to comment why. It wasn't that you were trying to avoid him- you felt awkward and rigid around him and it tore you apart. Each time you looked at him you noticed him looking away as if he was hiding something.

The accompanied silence answered for you; Yaga placed his hand on your shoulder offering some condolences, "Maybe space will do good for the both of you for now." You knew Yaga's hands were tied; the higher ups made most of the decisions for jujutsu sorcerers.

You excused yourself to your dorm and found yourself caught up in your thoughts as you looked through your phone, scrolling through pictures of you and Gojo. The recollection of memories of the two of you being in happy, in love, brought the feeling akin to mourning. The inevitability of decisions was upon you as you tapped your fingers slowly onto your phone screen and with some hesitation, sent

You: You up?

You clutched a pillow to your chest and waited. You wondered if he'd even reply, legs restlessly tapped the bed until you heard a ping from your phone.

Gojo: Yeah. You? (You typing...) You: Roof?

You took a deep breath and stood up, leaving from the patio and climbing up the rafters onto the final rooftop when you saw the sorcerer already sitting, having planted himself on a ledge. "How're you?" He asked as you sat down next to him, his posture almost awkward when you sat farther than he’d like.

"I've… Been better."

The two of you sat in awkward silence; you wished you could reach out to him, embrace him like you normally would; He was physically close enough but felt an infinite ways away from you. You opened your mouth to speak,

"I-" he started.

"I think I'm going to go away for a while." you replied.

Gojo looked at you trying to register what words you spoke. "What?"

You looked down to avoid his stare, "Yaga says the higher ups want me to return to Kyoto." The intensity of Gojo's stare even more, hearing his hands ball up into clenched fists. As you tried to gain confidence with a breath, you were immediately thrown back from the expression on his face; his eyes showed pain as if he were grieving. Tears well up in your eyes, unable to hold back your emotions.

"You could curse me for leaving, if you wanted," You held your hand up to your mouth to hold back a cry, "I wouldn't blame you if you did, Satoru."

Gojo's hand gingerly touch your cheek, his thumb underneath the bottom of your eyelids wiped away the rogue teardrops that fell on your cheek.

"Why would I ever do that to you?" His voice shook slightly, bringing you into his chest as you cried softly, “How could I?” He held onto you as if you were about to be taken away from him; he buried his face into the crook of your neck and closed his eyes to savor your touch he had missed.

"When will you return?" He asked in a whisper.

"I'm not sure. But someday, I will." You placed your forehead onto his and closed your eyes; you could hear his slow breathing. "You don't have to wait for me, Satoru."

He smiled weakly, "Remember... Love is the most twisted curse of them all.” He tilted his face to press his lips onto yours; you wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. You felt his arms wrap around you and his hands cradling the back of your head. The desperation in his kiss palpable as you shed your last tears. The both of you came up for air, sharing each other's breath as you leaned your foreheads against each other.

"Goodbye, Satoru." He looked at you and nodded as you moved away from him. He watched you turn to leave, jumping from the roof into darkness.

DEPARTURE: 10:00 AM FROM TOKYO TO KYOTO VIA BULLET TRAIN

Yaga-sensei. You requested to meet with Yaga one last time. You walked to his office and knocked on the door, "Yaga-sensei, it's me..." "Come in," You slide the door open to say your goodbye. He gave you strong, fatherly hug. "One day, I hope you'll come back. When you're ready."

Megumi-kun. "What do you mean you're leaving?" The boy looked at you with watery eyes. He clutched his shirt as you knelt down to his eye level. You felt an agonizing pain for leaving Megumi, a child who had already lost both his parents. You gave him a hug, squeezed him tightly.

"I have to go somewhere Megumi-kun, but I'll be back." Megumi pouted and gripped at your sides with his tiny arms.

"D-Do you promise?"

"I promise."

You let go and kissed him on the check, "Promise me you'll get stronger and learn sorcery. It doesn't have to be perfect, just do your best and give it your all!"

He nodded. "I'll be back before you know it. Oh! and be nice to Gojo. He loves you." He pouted at the last request, waving goodbye from the window as you walked out the door.

Shoko. "I'm going to miss having another girl around," Shoko said, a gloomy look on her face as she took a drag from her cigarette. "How long do you think you'll be gone for?"

"I'm not sure," you frowned, "But I know I'll come back." Shoko grinned, "Of course, dummy. And don't worry, I'll keep Gojo in check, okay?" You gave a soft laugh and gave her a hug, waving while you walked away from the hospital.

Nanami. "You've come to say goodbye. Correct?" He was monotoned as usually. "Yes... Nanami-kun. I wanted to thank you for the other day," you smiled softly. "You were sad and hugs help sad people." You sweatdropped at his matter-of-fact tone, nodding and thanking him again. The stoic man quietly got up from his seat and gave you a hug.

"You will be missed. Especially by Gojo." you look down and smiled. The man let go of you and sighed, "If I can be honest, I don't know how you put up with him." You could only smile and bow politely at Nanami, who returned the same pleasantries as you ran down the hallway of the school.

Gojo. You held out a piece of paper with your handwriting, crossing the names out of the people who've made visits with. Your fingers grazed the uncrossed name on the bottom of your list; Satoru. The paper crumpled under your grip as you walked to his house; when you arrived it seemed entirely vacant. Before you could knock on the gate, you received a call from Ijichi reminding you to meet him at the school's entrance in 5 minutes. You begrudgingly abandoned the house to rush over to meet the assistant at the front of the school. He was already placing your luggage into the opened trunk, "I'm sorry to rush you, but we have to get to the station soon."

"Ijichi, do you mind giving this letter to Gojo?"

"Of course."

The two of you got into the car and rode off to the train station where you were to take the bullet train to Kyoto. You waved to Ijichi as he drove off; you followed crowds of people into the station as you found and boarded your train.

As you sat down in your seat and placed your bag underneath your seat, there was hardly anyone on the train. You looked out of the window to the Tokyo skyline; reminiscing everything this stay had brought you. As you gazed across the buildings, you saw a small figure in the distance trying to catch your attention.

You squinted your eyes to see a Gojo waving. You smiled weakly and waved back, feeling both relief and sadness that he would be seeing you off one last time. The train conductor announced the departure; you felt the train slowly push off from the tracks and forward onto the road.

Gojo looked onward as he saw your train leave Tokyo, the blindfold wrapped around his neck. He waited until the train fully disappeared into the horizon until he warped back to the school. He walked slowly and silently through the hallways, the emptiness inside himself grow with each step. He passed your room and paused to look into the empty room that was once filled with memories of you. He continued to move until he reached his house and not bothering to take off his shoes. The emptiness made the room feel cold and almost foreign again. Gojo sighed, placing his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He peered into the box to view it's contents, snapping it closed as he placed it into his dresser, closing the drawer with a soft thud.

'One day, I will make things right for you.'

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