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tadokorochann · 20 days

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𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑

౨ৎ . . . GOJO SATORU promised he would burn the entire world for you, even if you were determined to burn yourself.

warnings: missing person mention, police reporting (not accurate), mentions of abuse/trauma, kidnapping, needles/blood mention, hospitalisation, fem!reader, mental health issues, suicidal themes, w.c 5.1k

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ traitor — olivia rodrigo ꒱ ˎˊ-

JUJUTSU TECHNICAL COLLEGE SCHOOL

FOR THE ATTENTION OF THE DEAN AND TEACHERS WITH REGARDS TO:

[F/N] [L/N], ADULT FEMALE, Kawasaki Prefecture

Investigative Missing Person's Report

STATUS: [CLOSED] CHIEF INVESTIGATOR: FUJITA MAMORU — WINDOW

I will be detailing the events of the investigation carried out regarding [F/N] [L/N], which took place from February 21st when she was reported missing to March 7th, when the victim was found.

REPORTED MISSING

[F/N] [L/N], who will be referred to as "the victim" or "[F/N]" for the remainder of this report, was last seen returning from work on February 21st at 17:35pm. The journey from her workplace as a student teacher at SATOZAKURA HIGHSCHOOL to her home in [REDACTED] takes 15 minutes. The victim was reported missing by her colleagues the next day when she did not show up for work — deemed "unusual behaviour" for her.

PHYSICAL IDENTIFIERS

[F/N] is described as a young woman, last seen wearing brown suit pants and a white blouse. She has [E/C] eyes and [H/C] hair.

AREAS SEARCHED

GREATER KAWASAKI AREA: Banks of the Yakami River; Tachibana Park; Kanba Ryokuchi Park; homes of close colleagues [REDACTED], [REDACTED], [REDACTED]; surrounding train stations; Takatsu Ward Policing Station holds continued list.

Foot and diving crew most active February 21st — February 26th. Man effort reduced to 40%. Case handed to Chief NAGATA MIZUKI of Takatsu Ward on March 1st.

PHASE TWO: VICTIM REPORT

VICTIM FOUND

STATUS: [ALIVE]

[F/N] [L/N] was found on March 7th at 02:20AM following a routine well fare check of a previously inhabited residence — address: BUNYO CITY, TOKYO.

Due to the nature that the victim was found in, the case was handed over to window Fujita Mamoru. Supernatural crimes were suspected.

Victim was found bound and gagged, multiple perforations on the flexor surface of both arms and nape of neck. Phlebotomy paraphernalia was located at the residence. There were multiple flyheads grouped around the victim and, while not challenging to get rid of, the volume of them was a cause for alarm.

TREATMENT

[F/N] was treated at TOKYO UNIVERSITY HOSPITAL for minor traumatic wounds. Due to mental health reasons, [F/N] was kept as an inpatient for three weeks. During this time, the ward was overrun with Grade 2 Cursed Spirits. Victim rarely ate and did not speak during inpatient stay. Cursed Spirit infestation did not resolve until patient was discharged.

FUTURE STEPS AND JUSTIFICATION FOR CLOSING CASE

As per instruction, Detective Mamoru continued surveillance on [F/N] [L/N] while higher level verdict was sought. It has been concluded that [F/N] has been victim to supernatural crime that has made her attractive to cursed spirits/cursed objects. The exact mechanisms of this alteration is unknown.

To avoid unnecessary execution of a civilian who is not otherwise gifted with cursed energy control, it has been decided that this individual be entrusted to Tokyo's Jujutsu Technical College, where Special Grade Sorcerer GOJO SATORU is in employment. Both the victim and public will be protected by this decision. [F/N] [L/N] will also be under the confinement of MASTER TENGEN'S barrier if situations were to escalate.

As the victim refuses to speak, the attacker could not be identified and no charges will be pressed.

CASE CLOSED: 30/03/2016

𓂃 ࣪˖ Two Years Later

"Wonder if I turn ya upside down, would that big frown ya always wear turn into a massive grin! Wanna try~?"

"Don't be so worried, what d'ya think is gonna happen? As long as I'm here, no curses or whatever it is you attract like a magnet are gonna get in. Just relax~!"

"I'm the strongest, after all."

𓂃 ࣪˖

The beautiful wisteria flower curled inwards and withered underneath your touch.

Gasping, you pulled your hand away, as if physically burned. It was completely uncalled for — the shocked inhale that stumbled up your throat. Of course, this would happen, like every beautiful thing that came in contact with you. It shrivelled and it died. But you had been foolish today; you had entered the College Gardens and spotted the purple blooms you have never seen before. The thought came on unbidden, unacceptable, but you had entertained it anyway — what if, this flower is different? What if, I could hold these petals in my hand — and keep it as proof?

Proof that you were not just a thing cursed to damnation.

The licks of petals detached off the decaying flower and fluttered to the ground. Your eyes tracked it — its last descent before nestling with the grass and becoming one with the earth. Like the flower, your hand came to cradle against your chest; fingers curling inwards, as if terrified by the sunlight that peaked through the trees.

You did not know why you even bothered to go outside, anymore.

Curses lived in shadowed alcoves, in the hearts of darkness, after all.

Perhaps your life would be so much easier if that was the label you were branded with; curse, because in this society, curses were dealt with under strict protocol. There were clean, hard-cut rules, and that was to eradicate them completely from existence. But what was to be done to those in between? Not exactly a curse, nor wholly human; tittering on the bridge in between, unsure of which way to fall.

Talks were still "ongoing" with regards to what class you fell into. Two years ago, you were blissfully unaware of this side of reality. You were on the way to becoming a high school teacher — had just secured your first little apartment so as to be closer to the school. You laughed, you cried, you told people you hated them and loved others. In simpler terms; human, you were fully fledged and human.

And then that night happened.

And forever, you had been changed. Into something supernatural not even the masters of this art knew how to explain. Jujutsu, sorcerers, cursed objects, a school for aspiring shamans? It all sounded like a nightmare disguised as a very good joke. And yet here you were. Walking the beautiful grounds, trying to ignore the buzz of cursed energy coming from curses in close proximity to Tengen's Barrier.

You remembered very little from the night you had been found — could only bring forth snippets like the flash of a police light in your eyes, a hand to your cheek, the scratchy feedback from a car radio. The weeks following, even less so. But before you had learned to speak again — your apartment had already been cleared out, your bags packed, and off to this retreat in the mountains you had been swept. Yet even if you could speak, you doubted that the fierce looking men in suits would have headed your pleas, in anyway.

"The person you were a month ago is no longer alive." Was what one of the harsher looking ones told you — not an ounce of empathy in his voice. "It is an unfortunate circumstance, but sometimes, unfortunate humans get caught up in our affairs. Just do as we tell you. You can lead a peaceful life at Tokyo's Jujutsu Tech, where you and the public can be protected."

It was difficult enough to be sling-shotted into the middle of an entire world you had no idea existed outside of storybooks. But the worst of it was not leaving your old life behind, it was not the friends and family you would never see again; it was that piece of yourself you couldn't get back. You had been forever changed, and in the place of that missing piece now existed a part of you no one seemed to understand. One that made you dangerous enough to keep on consecrated grounds.

The one which allowed you to speak to curses and make them heel.

—ugh, I hate school. I hate school. I hate school so much. I hate school. —what if I'm not good enough? Everyone hates you anyway! —ugly, pretty, ugly, ugly, pretty, ugly, ugly...! —hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts, hurts!

The first time you heard the voice of a nearby curse in your head, you could not stop screaming.

Now, they fluttered into your mind like white noise. You had learned how to cope with the myriad of murmurs in your head; as if it were a beehive and you the queen. But it made the gurgling whisper of a curse no less jarring. Even now — as you came to a clearing in the gardens where a dozen koi fish pools made up a walkway, you could hear the distant fragments of curses which belonged to the mountain forest. Master Tengen's barrier eased the volume, diluted them somewhat, but could never stop them from reaching you with probing intensity.

Reminiscing tired you, you sighed, pulling the woollen sash around your shoulders tighter. You glanced down at the pond, trying to focus on the gleaming scaled bodies wading through them. All you could see was your wane reflection, staring back at you, the sleepless nights underneath those eyes all too startling.

Three familiar voices bobbed above the surface of your thoughts. Warm, young voices, speaking excitedly about something. Keeping your steps quiet, you cleared the small bridge across the koi pond and rounded the path.

Spiked black hair. A neatly cut head of auburn. Wild salmon pink, like the fish that swam in the pond.

Itadori Yuuji was first to spin around upon noticing your sudden presence, stuffing something behind the small of his back. The other two students you had become fond of knowing these past few months also lept to their feet; suspicious expressions racing across their faces.

"[Name]-sensei!" Itadori exclaimed, his tawny eyes wide. "What are you doing around here?"

"Yeah, shouldn't you be... like, helping Ijichi-san on the opposite end of the grounds today?" The only female of the group — Nobara Kugisaki — crossed her arms, a little haughty.

"Idiots. She's an adult — she can go wherever she pleases." Megumi scolded them both in that very characteristic deadpan. "She isn't actually a teacher, no matter what blockhead over here keeps addressing her as."

They were an interesting melting pot of personalities; Jujutsu Tech's new up-and-coming first years. You would think they were the worst team imaginable, destined to always butt heads and never capable of working together. But the reality was — there was a thread of trust so strong that bound them together; Megumi Fushiguro, Itadori Yuuji, and Kugisaki Nobara. You always welcomed their vibrancy whenever you would cross their paths. It did well to keep the shadows from plaguing your mind, at least for a little while.

"No, Nobara-kun is right," You said, bending down so you sat back on your ankles as the three of them had been previously hunched over something on the ground. "I was meant to help Ijichi-san with some canvassing today, but something came up for him that he couldn't avoid. So, I've just been wandering the gardens for a little while."

Smiling impishly, Nobara gave Megumi a filthy look. One which the young man did not take a liking to, if his cool glare was of any indication.

Itadori, who was the closest to you, shifted a little. It wasn't like the boisterous teenager to fidget, taking a liking to acting first and thinking about the consequences, second. You quirked your head sideways.

"Are you okay, Itadori-kun?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah! Yeah, I'm all good!" He gushed, but there was a strain around the words — one that echoed his tight neck muscles and bunched shoulders. He was also still holding something behind his back. At your mildly concerned, but wholly unimpressed look, you heard Nobara click her tongue.

"Tch. Stupid. You couldn't even lie if a gun was held to your head, huh?"

"Hah!?" Itadori twirled his head to glare at her. "What's that meant to mean?"

"It means that you're an idiot, idiot!"

Megumi sighed — the type that made him appear years older and more jaded than he actually was. He put a pale hand over his eyes. "Why are you even fighting? It's done. We should just give it to her, already."

"Fushiguro!" The both of them cried in offended unison. Megumi bristled at their appalled expressions now pinned towards him.

"W-What?" He scowled, reeling back. "It's not like I'm lying."

"Give who... what?"

All three of the teenagers beckoned to your quiet voice, tinged with subtle intrigue. You blinked owlishly. They looked so off guard, as if you just hopped out of the bush and caught them doing something very against Jujutsu Law. Each of them shared a weighted look — Nobara's appeared like she was trying to craft daggers and laser them Megumi's way. It was Itadori who broke the confusing silence; he fiddled with that item he held behind his back, deliberating.

"Fushiguro's right, this is a perfect opportunity!" He said, and then beamed a bright smile that would make any summer's day jealous. He untied his arms from behind his back and held what they had been hiding out to you; an object small and long and made from wood.

You took it with extremely ginger fingertips.

"We wanted to sand it down a little more, you know, make it smoother and more pretty," Itadori went on, but his voice blended in with the sounds of the forest as you focused all of your attention on the item in your palms. Barely the size of your hand — crafted from the wood of what looked to be a Japanese maple tree.

A wooden flower.

You balked, lost for words, when you looked up to the three teenagers — a thousand questions swimming in your wide eyes. Itadori scratched the back of his neck. "It might not be great, but we noticed that you never get to touch any of the flowers. Me and Kugisaki thought you had some real bad allergies, but Fushiguro decided to ask Gojo-sensei... and, well..."

You turned the whittled flower in your grip, feeling the weight of it, brushing your terrified fingers into the jagged grooves where a knife must have been. It was in the rough mould of a rose — must have taken at least a week of careful concentration in order to craft it from a sturdy plank of wood. And when you glanced back up, you noticed the dozens of tiny cuts decorating Itadori's calloused fingers. The single bandage that curved around Nobara's right index finger. Two fading splinter cuts on the back of Megumi's dominant hand he tried to hide from your view.

It was something you could completely not help — your eyes flooded with tears, your heart grew a small set of wings and tried to sour out of your chest. When you dipped to wipe your eyes behind a shielding arm, the sound of Itadori's alarmed exclamation sliced through the air.

"Ah—[Name]-sensei! Do—Do you not like it? Don't cry!"

"W-We didn't mean to bring up any shitty memories!" Nobara chimed in, panic flooding her tone.

"I can give it to Divine Dogs if you don't want to see it, anymore...!" Megumi added.

"No. No, no." You stammered, holding the little rose close to your chest protectively. Stop being so pathetic in front of the kids, you wanted to scold yourself, but receiving a gift so thoughtful, made with so much care and effort — it sent the lump in your throat doubling in size. A wet chuckle spluttered from your lips. "No — that's not it at all. I-I... I love it. Really. You children," You shook your head, holding the rose tighter to your heart, swearing you would never let it go. The first flower you had been able to hold in the last two years.

Your proof.

"You children are amazing." You choked, and then raised your head. Even though your eyes were puffy. Even though your cheeks were flushed, stained with shining streaks of tears. "It is the best thing anyone has ever given me. Thank you. Thank you, so much."

The first years looked stunned for words for a few moments — not expecting such an emotional reaction from their otherwise remote, composed adult. Then, as if yours was contagious, each of their faces softened into a relieved smile.

"Don't sweat it, sensei!"

"We're just glad you like it."

"You might want to be careful while handling the stem, though. It's still quite jagged."

Jagged. You almost scoffed at Megumi's warnings — even if it were unholdable, you would still wrap your hands around it and welcome all of the splinters. After they had gone to such lengths to make it for you, to try and help you feel involved, like you were somehow human again. If it were for these three teenagers, you would rip your flesh to tatters if it meant you could see them smile, over and over again.

It was chasing that parting declaration that a King of all Demons exploded in your mind. It was when you looked at Itadori Yuuji's innocent face, that you heard the screams, the terror, the deep rumble of a nightmare incarnate's voice;

—oh, what do we have here? I knew there was something off about you. You can hear cursed spirits, can't you, woman? —hahahaha! What a fuckin' laugh! Now there's somethin' interesting in this damn boring town!

—how long d'ya think you can go ignoring me for? It's a shame you can't leave these grounds — that's right. Everything this shitty brat knows, I know, too. You've been kept confined to consecrated earth because none of those idiots really know what you are, huh? Doesn't that make you angry? —I'm not goin' anywhere, woman. Why don't you ever talk back to me? D'ya know how awful it is for me, the King of Curses, to be reduced to the body of a brat? With such a laughable Cursed Energy Technique? —you, on the other hand. You're special. There's somethin' unnatural about you. You're irresistible. You got this frequency that curses flock to, even I can feel it over here. So much wasted fuckin' potential. It makes me sick. —hey, cursed woman, let me offer you a deal. Sooner or later I'm gonna take over this brat's body, and when I do, I'll kill everyone he holds dear and make him watch. It'd be such a damn laugh! Can ya imagine how broken he'd be? I can, and it's almost too temptin' not to go through with. But you love these kids, don't ya? I felt it. You'd do anything to save them, wouldn't you? —how 'bout this; when I do finally reincarnate, I'll spare this kid and everyone on this ground's life. But in exchange, you enter a Pact with me. Give me your body, cursed woman, in exchange for the pitiful lives of all these sorcerers. —whaddya say? I'd be a true King of Curses, able to hear and feel them wherever I went. And you — you, would be free.

"I think it's funny — how the higher-ups recruited me to be your babysitter. I'll have to learn everything about you — your likes, your dislikes, how many times ya poop a day. Hey! Why don't I bring ya out on the town, hm? You're always just slinkin' round the gardens, lookin' all depressed."

"I am not allowed to leave the consecrated grounds, Gojo."

"Don't be like that! It'll be super quick, no one will notice~! Besides, there's always a way 'round everything~"

𓂃 ࣪˖

The waves were angry today. They crashed up against the cliff face with relentless intent, spewing their salt spray into the air.

Years have passed since you have been to the beach — or have even seen the large expanse of ocean, stretching so far until it became one with the horizon. Here you stood; motionless, like you belonged to the rock beneath you, the only movement that gave you away was your hair as the sea breeze ripped through it and tossed it about your face. Expressionless, emotionless, to belong to you for all but another day before you handed it over.

"Give me your body, pitiful woman, in exchange for the lives of all these sorcerers."

What other choice could you make — you were already on that tipping edge that tittered between curse and human. What difference would it make, if you had chosen to fall?

It had been two weeks since you had last saw them; the children, Masamichi, your overlooker Gojo Satoru, the beautiful grounds that made up the so-called "religious college" for aspiring shamans. There was a dull ache that resided in the hollow of your chest whenever you thought about them — but you weaponised it, instead. For the last two years, you had been nothing but a ghoul floating through limbo; unsure of what her purpose was or why she was even here. But now; you had the chance to save them all. You, had it in her power to give them all long and happy lives, all at the expense of your own.

It wasn't really a choice, in your mind. Instead, it was your calling. Your duty.

You inhaled, letting the briny air fill your lungs, relishing in the taste of it on your tongue. If you held your breath for just that bit longer, time would be suspended. Standing here, listening to the comforting memory of their voices.

"Hey, [Name]-sensei, will you ever think of teaching us? I think you know a lot more than you let on!"

"How do you get your hair so healthy? You need to tell me. Better yet, I'll see if I can get permission to go shopping with you, one day!"

"My Shikigami... they are quite loyal, but I suppose they can be friendly if I instruct them to be. Would you like to see them?"

"Damn, this really is a lonely ol' spot to run away and wallow in."

That last voice — so rich and deep, boyish, annoying — chimed too crisply for it to be a mere memory. And with it came that bone-crushing presence, tightening around your neck like a vice, constricting your lungs until you could not breathe, move, think.

You spun around — and almost doubled over in shock when you saw him there; standing as tall and proud as the first day you saw him. The ocean breeze threaded through his silver-white hair; like a timid lover, too enraptured to pull away. Gojo Satoru in the flesh, holding up the remenants of a Jujutsu Hand Sign — he had just teleported here.

But how? Ryoumen Sukuna had taught you a cloaking hex that would hide you from even the most experienced shamans. How did he...?

Satoru waved cordially. "Yo."

The blood drained from your face. This would mess everything up. One wrong move or thought from you, and the King of Curses would take his once in a lifetime offer off of the table — you would be the downfall of everyone in Jujutsu Tech.

"How did you find me?" You choked around a hard swallow. Satoru's perfect lips pulled up into a smirk.

"C'mon, [Name]-chan, are ya really asking me that? Me, the Legendary Gojo Satoru, keeper of the Six Eyes, Honoured One among men and—"

"Answer me, Satoru!"

He trailed off, noticing the frightened stammer in your voice. Never in all the years he had gotten to know you had you spoken like that — so animatedly, full of emotion. Satoru hummed, dropping to shove his hands into his pocket.

"Are you askin' me how I saw through that stupidly complex but awfully executed cloaking technique you tried to use?"

Your impatient silence was enough for him to go on.

He took a step forward, raising one finger. "First, you're not a Sorcerer, and I bet that was the first technique you've ever tried to employ. Silly girl — you left residuals everywhere. It was seriously like you painted the bottom of your shoes, ya'know! It didn't really take this great shaman long to find ya. But also," Satoru reached up and pulled his dark glasses down the bridge of his nose. His eyes peaked over the rims; a thousand different studies in blue.

"I wouldn't be a really good babysitter if I couldn't locate our resident curse magnet misfit. Gone rogue, at that!"

You felt yourself drawn to Satoru — like you always were, ever since the day he poked you on the nose and told you tag, you're it, I'm your new watch warden! Your body leaned towards him, you wanted to divulge everything to this man in hopes that he could make it better. That somehow, there could be a way. But no; you had to do this. You must save them, even if it meant destroying yourself.

Breathing through your nose, you closed your eyes. "Go back to the Tech, Satoru."

"Sure thing~" He sang. "But not unless you're comin' with me."

"I can't, I—!"

"The kiddos are devastated."

At the sudden switch from his light, carefree tone to heavy and serious, you cracked open your eyes. Satoru had pushed his eyewear up onto the crown of his head — letting you feel the blazing impact of his gifted eyes. He crossed his arms. "They couldn't believe you went rogue. Quite frankly, I don't think they do believe it." He began to pace towards you. "And they don't have to. Come back, [Name]-chan. You don't gotta do this."

He was eating up the distance with his long legs; right until you both stood chest to chest, your neck craning up to look at him. That pulsing power you normally felt radiating from the strongest sorcerer alive was not there today — you noticed with fleeting attention. His Limitless was not activated — but why?

You both held each other's eyes for a moment — you, flickering yours all across his face, searching for something you did not know. Every part of you strained for him — but you resisted, balling your hands into fists until your nails broke flesh.

"I won't change my mind." You whispered up to him. "Ryoumen Sukuna has promised to leave everyone unscathed, if it means I hand my body over to him."

"And is that what you wanna do?"

"It is what I have to do—!"

His hand lashed out — so large, so warm, until it encircled your wrist and grounded you back down.

"You don't have to do anything. Y'here me? You don't owe anybody nothing. You come into this world alone, [Name]-chan, and you die alone. I hate that type of shit — but d'ya know what? You're also free to live whatever life you damn well want. You wanna throw everything in and become Sukuna's next vessel, go ahead — I can't stop you. Matter of fact, I won't." He lifted your hand then to clasp it with his other hand — holding it between the both of you in a gesture that was so oddly sincere of a man like him. You stared, stupefied, as he leaned his face in closer and said, "But do it because you want to, not because you feel like you need to."

Your hair whipped around the both of you in the relentless breeze — but it was as if you stood in the eye of a hurricane. You stared into Satoru's supernatural eyes and saw a universe in them. You gulped, trying to find the words, your resolve you thought you so desperately steeled.

Satoru's fingers tightened around yours. "Tell me, [Name]-chan," He murmured quietly. "Do ya want to die? Is that what ya truly want?"

"Whaddya mean, you've never been to a boutique, before! Now I have to bring you shopping. Tch, and you call yourself a Tokyo girl!"

"Sensei, sensei — try these super hot, super spicy noodles! Fushiguro almost vomited when he did, it was super funny!"

"The Divine Dogs seem to like when you play fetch with them, but nobody else. They must like how you smell."

"Don't be like that! It'll be super quick, no one will notice~! Besides, there's always a way 'round everything~"

Suddenly, the air became too thin. You could not get enough of it in — your chest rising and falling much too rapidly. Then, there was the burn; at the back of your throat, the corners of your eyes. All of the love and fear you had been pushing down in favour of your recent suicide mission suddenly reared up over your shoulders and crashed down like the tidal waves below. You were sobbing uncontrollably. Hiccupping, breathing out the words; "... No. N-No! No, I don't want to die. I d-don't want to leave you guys, n-not yet... n-not...!"

Something softened around Satoru's impenetrable eyes. And suddenly — tug. You were hit with the barrage of his familiar scent, first; expensive high-end cologne with sweet-mint undertones. And then there was his arms, closing around your shoulders, anchoring you against his body. His chest vibrated when he let out a know-it-all chuckle, and you felt it race right through your body. You felt it enter that hollow area of your chest and settle something permanent.

It took a moment, but you hesitantly lifted your tired arms until they looped around the small of his back. You physically deflated against him, but he held you up. He stood there for what felt like an eternity, if just to let you unload out all the emotions you have denied yourself for the last two years. He broke you open, and you needed it. You needed to feel the damage that had been made to your soul, every broken little piece of it, only to realise that you wanted to piece it back together, again.

You wanted to live.

You had never lost your right to be human — you had just been badly harmed by one.

It could not be said how much time had passed with you in Gojo Satoru's arms. But when you shifted to resurface, the sky had darkened into the intimate colours of sunset. They played against the smooth planes of his face — painted his white hair with all shades gold.

Satoru smirked, reaching out to rub at your swollen cheeks with the pad of his thumb. "Y'ready to go back, little miss misfit?"

It felt as if sand had been scraped down your throat when you swallowed. You nodded — weary, expended. "I do not know what I'll say to the kids."

"Don't worry, don't worry~ We'll just tell them you got super bored in Tokyo and decided to holiday off somewhere for a while without tellin' anybody. Problem solved."

Your laugh was a broken sound. But it was real. "I think that's even worse."

"Not if we bring them back souvenirs! Quick, we'll hit up the town before headin' back. Maybe even pick up some kikufuku on the way~"

Satoru's grin was as goofy was always when he glanced down at you, swinging your joined hands a little. You could not help mirror it, this man, this being of a higher power who understood you better than you did yourself. You reached into the pocket of your jacket and fingered the wooden flower you were planning to hold on your deathbed. The one he just pulled you up off of.

"I'd like that, Satoru."

✎ . . . requested by the wonderful @skypperlegacy!

WRITING REQUESTS

#this made me cry #love it #jjk #satoru gojo #gojo x reader

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