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reztoru · 1 year

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───── Music of the Forest

彡 Satoru is on a journey of coming to terms with his feelings for you, and he's come to find that the music his soul yearns for dwells within you, wherever you may be.

tw / cw : fluff and a tiny bit of angst? there's a happy ending ,, tobacco is briefly mentioned but not used for smoking lol, slight jjk 0 spoilers ,, i think that's all but lmk if i missed anything

pairing : gojo x reader

gender neutral, no physical descriptions of reader

a/n : born out of my love of the forests and inspired by a stsg painting I did. im so happy with how this turned out.

kinda me coded with a tiny tiny sprinkle of my own culture, but I think I kept it vague enough for everyone to enjoy.🫶🏾

w/c : 3.1k

Satoru has a knack for being a pest, at the best and worst of times. He needs to nourish his brain with information, desperate to know what causes people to tick. And as he’s grown older, he’s found himself observing the crowds around him a lot more.

He takes note of the way their energy engulfs them with the different emotions they endure. He sees how their anger is jagged and rude, or how their happiness appears in serene waves. Annoyance comes in spikes and sadness drizzles down.

And today is just another day for Satoru. Sat in his office, playing with a pen, avoiding work. Choosing to observe silently at the surrounding people. Seeing as they moved room to room, it was rather dull.

He became intrigued when he saw you wandering into the spooky forests. Mostly because you're someone he’s never gotten the opportunity to know. Thus, he couldn’t help but follow along — anything to get out of this boring paperwork.

He makes the hasty decision to teleport himself right next to you. Which caused him to startle you, popping up out of thin air like the menace he is. You tried giving him a smack, but his infinity stopped you, foiling your plan. Instead, you opted for scolding him. Warning him that if he was going to come with you, he best keep his mouth shut.

It was hard for him to abide by the single rule. Satoru being the never quiet man, always with something to say, and now with so many questions swirling within him.

“So, you wanna tell me why we’re sitting in the middle of the forest?” He said.

You shot him a look and shook your head, “I come here to heal, to think, whatever I need.”

He nodded slowly, pondering on your words, “and the forest helps to do that how? You eat berries and feel better?”

Rolling your eyes, you pat the spot beside you, telling him to listen. And he did, though he hadn’t really understood at first. He’ll admit the wind was gentle, it was calm. You could hear the leaves moving and the wildlife scurrying about, but nothing felt healing about it — well, he certainly didn’t feel healed.

However before he could prod at you further, you reached over to pull something out of your bag. It was a small sack of brown flakes — tobacco, loosely wrapped in a red cloth, with little beads tucked into a design on the chunk of it. And he was left feeling even more confused, especially after you stood up to scatter some about.

“It’s an offering. I’m giving back what I’ve taken.” You said as you turned to face him. Almost as if you could read his mind.

Yes, you were a mysterious person to Satoru. Sitting in the middle of nowhere to heal your soul. Sprinkling brown flakes on the ground like you were seasoning the earth. It just made no sense to him, but you did seem content every time you emerged from the trees; looking more at ease.

And he couldn’t help but tag along with you whenever he could. Wanting to know what this was all about, what you were all about. He’d poke at you, bombarding you with questions on the occasions that you’d begrudgingly allow him to.

Slowly, you became a part of his routine, ingraining yourself in his already busy schedule. And these trips into the forest turned into getting lunch rather late in the day, or coffee a little too late at night. And your woodlands started to become too familiar to him.

It began with you asking him to come along and get a drink and then it was a picnic. After a while, these things were almost routine and if he wasn’t able to stay and chat; he made it a point to at least stand in line with you before he had to go.

During that time, he began to know you on a more human level, getting to understand how your gears turned. And during these fleeting moments he learned how you like your coffee, your favourite food and color. He also learned of the way you heal; the way you replenish your mind. It’s so vastly different from the way he literally refreshes his brain — it’s so mundane in comparison.

“I just don’t get it.” Satoru said, sipping his overly sweet drink.

You sat across from him, swirling your own beverage with a straw. Your leg bounced as your eyes met your own in the reflection of his imposter sunglasses.

“Well, maybe you haven’t found your music yet.”

“I have music,” he gasped, “like that one song by Avicii- “

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. Your theme song,” you snickered, “this music is different, though. It heals your soul.”

You’d always tell him that his sound will find him, as it does with everyone. When the time is right, you’d say. He wasn’t able to wrap his head around your words, and he’d preach to you time and time again about how he didn’t get it. But you’d only ever roll your eyes and shake your head at him, “be patient.”

This was something that his eyes couldn’t give him answers to. Because even someone as godly as him was unable to fully comprehend it through sight alone. It wasn’t cursed energy, or some grand battle tactic. This was a reminder to him that there are boundaries and limits to what even the most powerful beings can understand. And this is something he had to experience on a deeper level, beyond the realm of vision.

When time rolls on, he starts to hear it. The sound of a distant melody. It was the brassy thrum of his heart when you’re near and the dewy pitch of your voice. And your rippling cackles that crashed through him. Though, it’s a little scary at first, this feeling isn’t new — and it’s certainly one he wasn’t hoping for a sequel of.

Because when Satoru falls, he falls hard. And it’s not a soft pillowy fall by any means. It’s in a way where he crashes and burns. His love scorches him and claws at his heart. Taunting him with what’s barely in his grasp — and that of which has long since left.

His feelings linger in his brain and dance deep within his core. They seem to flow through him in a more complex way, taking twists and turns that are difficult to predict. It’s all a little unnerving to him — you’re a little unnerving to him.

As he drifts away into his thoughts, he thinks to himself how you bring nothing but uncertainty. You’re a storm rippling its way through his steady breeze, bringing chaos in your pursuit. Though he supposes your rain is a kind of refreshing that his abilities can’t provide. And you leave behind a beautiful burst of colours when you go.

“You okay? You look kinda stupid with that lost look on your face.” You asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m a little busy right now.”

You give him a look, one that makes him feel a little too small. It feels a little too personal, and it’s a bit too knowing, as if you were the one who wielded the six eyes.

“Mhm right. When you’re done sulking, there’s this new bakery that I wanna check out.”

Admittedly, he feels a little giddy with the knowledge of you wanting to go out with him. Maybe his heart skips a beat right after the words leave your mouth, but he tries his hardest to brush it off and ignore it because this feeling doesn’t have a home in this wretched place of his.

It’s because he knows love is truly the most twisted curse of them all. It’s a swirl of every emotion under the sun and it can swallow you whole. One wrong move and everything could fall apart. There’s no manual for how to navigate through this sticky feeling, and there’s no right way to do it either. It’s as beautiful as it is cruel.

You add the fact that there’s a constant target on his back. People want him dead, curses do too. Logically, he knows that having you is selfish, it puts you at risk. Because allowing himself the pleasure of loving you is a losing game. And for that reason, he chose not to play; to be somebody who only watches as the show unfolds.

Thus, he tries to keep his distance, never letting his sickly emotions take the reins. But it seems the harder he tries to pull away, your soul holds him a little tighter; enticing him back in.

“Look, ‘toru!” You point to a group of funny looking mushrooms, with eyes shining so brightly they could put the sun to shame.

Your smile reaches out to grasp at his heart, holding it tightly, not wanting to let go. That’s when he swears the world stops; or something cheesy like that. The pieces of his heart crash around in his chest and he forgets how to breathe — how to move, how to function.

He sputters out, “Can we eat them?”

“Yes, or we could pick them and sell em for a fortune.” You let out a mischievous chuckle, “I’m only giving you a percent of the profits though, you already have too much money.”

He doesn’t know why he asks what kind of mushrooms they are, because he already knows. In fact, most of the things he listens to you ramble about he’s already quite knowledgeable on. But he gets to listen to your damn voice, and your attention isn’t on anybody but him as you explain these little interests of yours.

And he thrives in your rays of light. He almost seems to forget what emotion this is and what it entails. But maybe, he thinks, just for a moment, he can be Satoru, the annoying guy who gets under your skin, rather than Satoru Gojo, the strongest with the all-seeing eyes.

And it’s not until some faculty meeting that he realizes he’s down bad. Every time he tries to listen to what Yaga is saying, his orbs wander to you. He wonders if you’d want to get dessert later, or if you’ll invite him on a little picnic again.

It seems Satoru just gets lost in you. It’s become so blatantly obvious to everyone around him. Shoko nags at him and tells him to just go for it. Saying things like, “You’ll regret it more if you don’t.” And he hates that she’s probably right, he hates that he has these stupid feelings even more.

“You’re acting like an angsty teen.”

He huffs, crossing his arms, “am not. I just don’t have time for that relationship stuff.”

Shoko pauses what she's doing, placing a hand on the table in front of her as she turns to look at Satoru with a deadpan expression, “but you have time for dates.”

“They’re not dates.” He mumbles.

He wants to argue. He really does, but he knows he can’t. He especially knows because he’s stumbled down into Shoko’s grim abode more than enough times, asking her what the hell should I wear.

And maybe these feelings get a little too real when he finds himself focusing on you, when he should really be paying attention to his students. Observing in a daze as you walk across the field. Your arm shoots up to give him a wave, or maybe it was a wave to everyone, but he likes to think it was reserved for him.

Or maybe it’s when he’s making a cup of coffee, and you brush against him. And he just pauses what he’s doing because he finds you so captivating. He can’t help the way his hands yearn to trace every curve. To sculpt you into the space of his mind, and create a masterpiece that is you.

But whenever you’re near, his body is always left feeling a little confused as this calm and unease both settle as lovers within him. The unrest that stems from the lack of control, that unpredictability leaves him nervous. And he knows vulnerability comes with weakness, and to be weak is to be slashed down.

When he stumbles back into his office, he realizes he forgot cream and sugar. And it’s the little things like this that make his thoughts race. His brain wants him to run far away from you. It’s telling him to leave you behind before this can go any further. He tugs at his hair, clawing at his scalp. His eyes scan for something they can’t see. He desperately scours his mind to figure out what to do.

Knock knock

And his head shoots up. He feels like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. That is, until he realizes it’s you, and then things feel a little okay. Almost as if you bring along the unspoken words he’s searching for. You don’t pry, and you don’t ask questions he doesn’t wanna answer.

Maybe that’s why he’s grown to feel this way for you. You don’t push too hard, and when you do, it’s always at the right times. Oh, and you’re always sure to bring him some proper food when you pop in to say hi. You do all these things and expect nothing in return.

You dig deeper than the flimsy mask he wears and you’re patient with these circles he finds himself running in. You don’t chase him, instead you stroll behind, cherishing the journey that you’ve found yourself on. In the end, he feels human with you.

“Did you eat something today? You look ghostly.” You giggle, holding up a bag, “I brought lunch, let’s eat.”

And it’s now, he thinks, it starts to fall into place, when he feels it the most. It’s almost as if when you’re around, a sense of peace washes over him, a feeling of calm that he can’t find anywhere else. It gives his soul a phantom sensation of being so tenderly held; of loving arms around him. It’s not just a physical sensation, but something deeper, something that touches his core.

It’s like he can feel his essence expanding, reaching out towards something unknown, as if they were two halves of the same whole. It’s a feeling of completeness, of being exactly where he’s meant to be. And when he breathes, it’s as if he’s inhaling remnants of himself; or rather, somebody foreign, yet so very familiar to him.

And it’s days like today where he craves this sound the most. Days where the world feels a little empty and dull. No amount of reverse techniques can mend the passing of a friend you once cherished so much. He doesn’t wanna listen to the talk of the surrounding people. He doesn’t want to boil in anger and sadness. And he especially doesn’t want to be left alone thinking about all the what ifs.

Like clockwork, you poke your head into this wintery office of his. You take a seat and push a bottle of water towards him, followed by a little sandwich that you probably made at home. You don’t say anything, allowing him to wither in the noise you bring. And little by little he nibbles quietly on the food you offer, sipping the water as he goes.

Your eyes find his when you break the silence, “Seriously, Satoru, are you okay?”

“Always.” He gave you a toothy grin, but his facade has grown to become useless against you.

In return, you give him a soft smile; a knowing one, “Whenever you’re ready, you know where to find me.”

Off you go again, into those trees to listen for something he can’t seem to find. His heart yearns for this sound that you speak of. It’s dire for him to know. He craves the calm you have and the peace you carry. And he wonders if you’ll ever give him a taste of it.

He lets himself linger in the essence you’ve left behind. Pondering on the events that have taken place over the months. You’ve so diligently taken care of everyone affected by the tragedy, and yet you still find the time to come to him and comfort him in a way he doesn’t know he needs.

Satoru sighs loudly, running a hand through his snowy hair. He asks himself if he could handle your death, if he could let you go. He also wonders if he’s looking too deep into this.

His heart reaches out to find your remnants, begging for your peace. It pleads for your calm and yearns for your ease. And this is when he almost subconsciously gets up to follow you along into your pillowy green song. His legs started to move before his mind could protest. It feels natural; it feels normal. Your vibrations linger on the path he follows and his roots guide him to his haven.

It’s in these woods Satoru has found his heart lies with you. It dances with you as you pull him in to move along to the sounds of your music. His heart sings a little out of tune with you in the mornings and it sways along to your memory. And as he delves deeper into these trees, the sound is clear to him more than ever.

He can hear the echoing hums that follow the wind, guiding it into the ears that are willing to listen. The leaves that dance and sing, and the life within them that stomps their feet. The wild flowers that do their best to keep up, giving to the little bees that decide to follow. And he sees how the sun shines brightly down on the whispers of the world, carrying its warmth to those who may need it.

This is where peace is found. And this is where the heart goes to heal, taking the sacred medicine and using it to prepare the soul for its next battle — whatever it may be. And this is exactly what Satoru needs; a cleanse of his broken heart. Far away from the bustling city life. It’s a place where time stands still and chooses to tenderly embrace the wandering spirits that pay it a visit.

Deep within is where he finds you, basking quietly in the light rays. Allowing your body to nourish itself with what’s offered to you. And during these scarce moments, Satoru has come to find that the music of the forest dwells within you, wherever you may be.

#𓂃 ⋆｡°﹆ ⁞ spirit writes #gojo u stupid cheesy man #i hate him sm #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #gojou x reader #gojo satoru x gender neutral reader #gojo x gn!reader #gojo x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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