I usually write longer chapters but I felt like posting this one quickly considering I've had this fic pending for a year.
A needle in the chest
For a moment a scenario unfolds in her mind that doesn't seem at all frightening, unlike the many she has imagined over the years. She allows herself to be dazzled by what seems like a childish fantasy and without realizing it she smiles like a fifteen year old girl. Blush painting her cheeks, a tight smile and an image that should horrify her.
How terrible could it be to be his wife? She allows herself to wonder and glances down at the thin bag lying between her legs. She caresses the fabric still amazed at the quality and vibrant colors of its embroidery. This must surely be the most expensive present she has ever received in her life, though perhaps not the most special. No, it isn't. She still has the twisted dagger once gifted to her by Kokichi Muta's puppet.
In a tangled web of memories, she flashes back through her mind to his demise and all the events that preceded it. She then removes her hand from the cloth as if her fingerprints had caught fire and seems to regain her composure.
The Gojo Satoru effect is still in force, and it is coming through more and more strongly. He himself is a devastating force of nature, working his way inside her, taking everyone with him. Kasumi feels it like a creeper that grows tirelessly, unable to get rid of it despite her best efforts. Gojo can be corrosive, like an ever-growing cancer. How can someone so beautiful be so harmful?
At the same time, she knows that she has no escape from her own heart. That the empathy that characterizes her is as stubborn as he is. The idea of leaving him alone and on his own, at the mercy of his clan's desires, is inconceivable to her. She once feels as if she is standing in front of Kenjaku and his imposing Uzumaki. The endless spiral, abominable, indestructible.
All the empty holes in her heart seem nonexistent when she's next to him. Maybe it's because she's not strong enough yet, not her cursed techniques, not her mind or her heart. Everything is weak and useless against him.
She's a fool to believe that such feigned commitment could mean anything real. After all, it is the same Gojo Satoru who has come out of the box, with a couple more problems. But, at the end of the day it's him, the same.
He strives simply dragged down by the loneliness that has gnawed at his head for an infinite amount of time, perhaps since before he was sealed. But isn't she the same?
She has had years to think about this, to deliberate on why she fell into its clutches with such ease. It has not been simply because of her age, her inexperience and naivety. There is a very clear reason why someone like her, so useless and impoverished found herself blinded by the most powerful man in the earth. Gojo can hold anything he wishes in the palm of his hand and she is one of those many objects he manipulates to perfection, like his cursed technique, like his infinity.
It is no coincidence that she is attracted to him for everything she herself lacks.
That on the other hand, is something she has always known, but chose to ignore. She belongs to someone her own level and he has always been completely unattainable. What is happening now is a mere childish fantasy that for a second has fooled her again, another mirage.
Miwa leans back in her seat as she looks out of an airplane window at the cottages, small as her little fingernail. Life in a clan is far from simple, and the memory of Mai should be enough to silence all the voices pushing her into his arms.
However, the weight of her own family for some time now has begun to buckle her knees. The safety of the children would be guaranteed, at least for a time that would serve Satoru to look for a new outlet, or a wife according to his needs...
That thought twists her insides, hurts like a cramp and forces her to put a hand to her belly to appease the sensation that invades her.
The children are at school by the time she reaches her house, empty and silent. Through the window sees Grandma Chou watering the opulent flowers in her garden and for a moment envies the colors on the other side of her fence. But she has no time to devote to beautifying her home either. She walks to her bedroom and picks up an envelope from her desk drawer. Her gaze glances sideways at a pink souvenir, worn out, as consumed by the years as her feelings for the one who gave it to her. She hasn't had the strength to get rid of it either.
She sighs, sits down on the mattress and rereads the instructions inside the envelope. She needs the money to pay the utility bills, Kano's salary is not enough to feed so many mouths and the pay is big enough to take her mind off her worries for three months.
Tonight will be her last dinner with her family and the next day she will start a new mission.
Kasumi forces a smile that she manages to maintain throughout the night. She doesn't say a word of all those that are on her mind and prepares dinner. She listens to the boys' anecdotes, helps them with their homework and talks to Kano about that girl he met at work, getting the words out in dribs and drabs. Sochi chooses an all-ages movie and by the end two of the boys are asleep. She tucks them in, reads a story and returns to her bed at the end of the night.
The smile disappears.
She spends a few minutes staring at the screen of her cell phone, her fingertips burn again. But this time it's not because she wants to get away from something, but because she can't wait to write a message.
'What are you doing?' 'How are you?' 'Are you sleeping?'
She doesn't write any of them and turns off her cell phone to take full advantage of the last hours of sleep she'll have on a clean mattress, between perfumed sheets. Before closing her eyes for the last time she smells Satoru's scent on the pillow. Sadly, it is one of her favorite smells... Not that of his expensive perfume, nor that of his shampoo or the soap he usually uses. It is the scent of his skin. Unique and unmistakable.
She wakes up at dawn, before her alarm clock goes off. She takes a last hot shower and prepares everything she needs for her trip. Carrying a bag loaded with instant foods and some talismans that will give her protection against the smallest curses. A couple of bottles of water, a flashlight, a couple of changes of clothes.
She dresses in the tailored suit given to her by the school and the double sheath for her katanas. Fixes her hair in a tight ponytail and looks at herself in the mirror one last time before leaving. Not before leaving a note to Kano with several reminders.
Kasumi usually leaves before anyone wakes up, just to avoid having to listen to the children's wailing and be late, or not having enough willpower to leave without knowing if she will see them again.
She closes the door carefully behind her and before she takes another step she hears a familiar voice.
"You're out very early this time, Kasumi-chan."
Kasumi turns and smiles. Grandma Chou is on the porch of her small home sitting in her old rocking chair. She nods.
"I didn't want to wake the children."
"Come home and have a cup of coffee with this old lady before you go," she says as she gets up, hunched over she walks to the door waving her hand.
She can't say no, although she would rather not make her customary goodbye any longer. She walks to the house and enters, looking around, hoping to find Grandpa Chou, but he doesn't seem to be awake. Grandma already has a pot of tea ready and drags a chair in front of a small cup, then hurriedly walks over and serves her a plate of cookies.
"Where are you going this time?" she asks her after seeing her sit down. "I hope it's nothing too dangerous," says almost in a scolding tone, pointing at her with a finger, "you have to be careful, who will accompany you? Will you go with that boy who spent the night with you?"
Kasumi blushes, buries her face in the cup and tries with all her might not to spit out the coffee she just drank. Then she denies.
"Someone else will go with me, don't worry, it won't be anything dangerous."
She feels bad lying to her, looking at her face, trying harder not to let the truth show in her expression. She knows she's always been bad at telling lies.
"I should drink this quickly if I want to be on time," she lies again and takes another long sip of coffee.
"I don't want you to leave on an empty stomach. Go on, help yourself, eat something, you're too thin."
It is inevitable to smile despite feeling so nervous. Kasumi never had a grandmother and she is the closest thing to that. Sometimes she wonders if all grandmothers are like her.
"Uhm... in... in my absence could you...?"
"Care for the children? Sure, you don't even have to ask. This is their home, too."
She dares to take a cookie, even though her stomach is in a ball of jitters. Something tells her that she won't give her peace until she takes a bite.
"What about that boy? I noticed him very interested in you?"
"Who?" she asks.. "Gojo? I don't think so... he's like that," she says and smiles. "He's like an uncontrollable force of nature."
"Like a tsunami."
"A hurricane."
"A very nice one, I might add."
"He is," she admits grimly.
"Such pretty men usually have women at their feet, that's why they're disoriented when they don't get exactly what they're expecting."
Kasumi nods.
"But..." adds the grandmother, "that doesn't mean they don't have feelings."
"Gojo... is a person no one can control. I think even he has trouble doing it himself."
"Kasumi-chan... at my age you learn many things, and one of them is that when you love someone you can't control them. We can only learn to accept the differences between us, appreciate the freedom of our loved one and allow them to be, with their mistakes and their virtues. Self-love, on the other hand... is to accept what hurts you and embrace what makes you happy. The looks of others may discourage you from doing and being with who you want, but at the end of the day you are the master of your life and life is nothing more than a constant search for happiness. Happiness is ephemeral and elusive, you can't be fully happy if you haven't had a sip of sadness... and you've had plenty of that. To live in fear of suffering is to avoid living."
Kasumi's chest fills with nostalgia.
"I wish I could get to your age to be so wise, you always have the right words."
"You don't get to my age without a few stumbles in life. But you know what? When those stumbles are on the path our heart leads us on, there are no regrets. Because, even if at the end of the road we find that what we dreamed of was not what we expected, we always end up gaining something we didn't expect. A lesson that leads us to new horizons, new friends, or beautiful memories. The point is that we must get to the end, be brave and move forward as long as our heart points us in the right direction. Maybe in the end you will have some regrets but, in general... you don't regret the things you did for love."
...
It is probably Maki's sermon that compelled him to get out of bed and march towards the first cursed energy sphere he encountered. He wiped away a curse as he wondered what the point would be if it were to reappear in some other corner of this great wasteland of destruction anyway.
"Maybe if I make a big show off in front of a camera..." he wondered to himself. "Yaga wouldn't have liked it at all..." he says and smiles to himself as he raises his hand and brushes off another curse like a simple mosquito. "The context has changed too much to restrict myself..." He stretches his neck until it clicks with his own vertebrae. "Maybe that's what the world needs, they have to know that I'm here to help them recover Japan, maybe then they would stop being so afraid and the cursed energy would stop growing... Bah... it's just an idea."
Gojo takes his hands to his pockets, kicks a stone in his path as he wanders aimlessly looking for another energy cluster. He looks at the sky out of the corner of his eye, gray and sad.
"It's gonna rain."
He walks for longer than he should, being able to make this same route from the air. He walks through desolate streets with a course that begins to become more clearly delineated as time goes by. Of course, the trail of cursed energy leads him straight to Shibuya. But, even he is cautious and circles the perimeter. If he's gonna clean up the epicenter of this disaster he should do it by showing off his attributes and not here, blind to all of Japan.
"What would Dad think?" he asks himself in a sarcastic tone, imagining his inordinate reaction.
A first drop falls on him, but does not touch him.
Eventually he decides to check inside the nearest buildings. Nothing he can't handle, but the number of curses manages to impress him. They are like a swarm of wasps ready to attack. Who knows how long they have been waiting for a human soul.
When he reaches the top, he gives himself a few minutes to wander around the rooftop and look for his next destination. Collapsed buildings, vegetation trying to grow only to die early probably because of the amount of cursed energy emanating from every corner.
His six eyes catch a familiar scent and he lifts his glasses.
Kasumi is there. He has come to recognize the trace of her cursed energy as a fingerprint. The curve of his lips spreads into a smile that blurs as his heart quickens its pace and he manages to see her in the distance. Despite the miles, despite the rain, he can see her clearly.
A very small needle sinks into his chest, right in the middle and slowly begins a corrosive process. It spreads like a poison, like a million hands dragging his flesh into his chest.
That person holds her face, unabashedly caresses her skin and then runs a damp lock of hair away from her face. He smiles at her, looks into her eyes with a familiarity that completely overturns his belly.
Satoru becomes a silent spectator, completely mute and unable to blink. Suddenly he seems hypnotized by the foreign hands that carefully and delicately search the face that takes away his sleep.
The idea of interrupting this intimate moment crosses his mind, more than an idea it becomes a monstrous impulse that drags him to take one foot to the ledge, ready to fall into the void and make a spectacle of his arrival. To take them by surprise and greet them as if nothing was happening, like the show-off he has always been.
However, something stops him. His right foot remains in the air. A somber expression on his face. His fists tightly clenched inside his trouser pockets.
The rain covers him completely and drips down his forehead onto the bridge of his nose and falls to the ground, hundreds of feet below his feet. His shirt soaked through, his hair sticking to his cheeks.
He sighs.
The foot that was ready to embark on an angry walk returns to its base and finds himself contemplating Kasumi smiling at this stranger.
"So... that's how I made you feel."
On that occasion Kasumi ran away and now he fully understands the reason. Despite the discomfort and energy beginning to swirl in his stomach. Despite the terrible feeling that burns his skin, Satoru understands that he must turn around and leave her alone.
"But..." he starts to say a moment after turning around, "Who the fuck is this guy? And why is he touching her so naturally? Kasumi won't even let me touch her cheek without reminding me that I'm an idiot... No, I shouldn't keep looking, that's exactly what I shouldn't do, I shouldn't be spying on her like this, no, no, I'm not respecting her privacy. So why the fuck can't I stop looking? It's like a slow motion crash... Shit, I can't take my eyes off her, what does that asshole have that I don't? I'm taller, better looking and most likely more powerful than him, why is he taking my place? I should be there, fixing her hair and stroking her back. No!" he says and turns away, "Surely there's a reasonable explanation, maybe he's a distant relative that she's never mentioned to me. But, if she had I would know about him, Ijichi wouldn't have forgotten to mention him... would he?" He retraces his steps and observes more discreetly again. "What if he has a cursed technique that has manipulated her and is now under some kind of curse? Sounds logical, sounds like I should intervene immediately... right?" he wonders, raising an eyebrow and watching them. "It sounds like I'm making up a convenient excuse to get involved in their business, which is exactly what I don't want to do. Where is Grandma Chou when you need her? Stop it, I'm going to intervene. No, no, you must control yourself Satoru, you're sounding like a madman, what's wrong with Kasumi getting a little male attention? After all she's very pretty and... over the years she's added an attractiveness... Stop it, stop it, these thoughts are not taking you to a good place. You're behaving like a clown. Relax, you know the kind of woman she is, she wouldn't sleep with you and then go for someone else who can't even keep up with you. Although... she rejected me after sleeping with me and told me it was all a mistake, although she later confessed that she still has feelings for me. Shit, this is so confusing... Maybe just a little conversation to make sure everything is okay, what's the harm? 'Hey, I was passing by and...' Shit! he says to himself after feeling a glare on himself. Satoru crouches down on the ledge. He sighs. "I can kiss the casual factor goodbye," he chides himself with a hand over his face. "Fuck... I'm hiding from Kasumi and her new lover. Will it be too obvious if I just get up and greet them? Why can't I get up? I'm... embarrassed? I think I feel out of place, shit, shit! That's something new... What if he's the reason Kasumi's on the pill? If I were her I wouldn't want to get pregnant by someone so ugly either," Satoru smirks. "What's that, Satoru? Are you jealous? I think so, I guess that's how it feels," he lifts his head slightly so he can see them, walking somewhere he doesn't know. "It feels like ripping the head off someone you don't even know."
He sits down, lets the rain cover him and looks at his hand completely soaked with raindrops. At what point did he turn off his technique? Everything has become more complicated than it should be. He always imagined relationships to be a complicated thing, at least for him, but this has gone to another level.
"How do you get rid of this feeling?" He wonders and tries to search for the answer in his memories. "Nanami never mentioned anything like this before. Shoko smokes, but she does it all the time, what's the difference? Utahime? Bah, I doubt anyone could fall in love with so much bad mood... Yaga?...
It's nonsense for him to sit around complaining about his situation without looking for a quick solution and realizing that there isn't one doesn't make him too happy. Now he understands, as he quickly walks down from the building towards an abandoned one he remembers seeing a few miles back.
He's hardly surprised to see a couple of motorcycles outside the small bar he saw out of the corner of his eye a few hours earlier. He hears a light bustle inside, rock and roll music. He pushes the door in front of him, a grayish cloud of cigarette smoke everywhere, reminds him of the worst moments of Shoko's addiction. He keeps an eye on the vintage jukebox, 'Mississippi Queen' playing at full volume. He ignores the stares of the rest, though he smiles to himself as he notices their outfits. They remind him a bit of the movie Mad Max. These guys have really taken the post-apocalyptic concept to the extreme.
"Serve me a drink," he says to the mustachioed man at the bar.
"Kid, this is a private club, in case you hadn't noticed," he replies, placing a shotgun on the table.
Satoru observes it with a certain calmness, although his gesture is cold. He raises a hand as the others begin to surround him and without breaking a sweat the shotgun squeaks into an unrecognizable ball of metal and wood.
"I don't handle alcohol well, how about we start with something light?"
The mustached man's aviator glasses droop over the bridge of his nose. His eyes, like two boiled eggs about to pop out of their sockets, point to each of those who were ready to attack.
"So a shaman..." he says and places a small glass in front of Satoru.
The glass flies away and crashes against the wall, between two heads that tremble irremediably.
"I'm sorry, I didn't measure myself. I want a big glass, what's that kid thing? I'm thirty years old, damn it, give me an adult glass."
"Okay, take it easy!" he apologizes, raising his hands. "I didn't mean to offend you, in fact, we like shamans, don't we guys?" He looks at the rest nodding vehemently and little by little voices are heard affirming. "Gosaki is one, isn't he?"
Gojos turns and sees him, too shy for his taste. He raises a hand and Satoru returns the gesture.
"Well, do you want some gin?" he asks and looks at the blurry letters on the bottle. "37.5... I think?"
"No beer? That doesn't have that much alcohol percentage. I don't want to get out of control with you guys, you're my friends, right?"
"Sure!"
"Of course."
"Yes!"
"Well, hey, how did you guys run this place?" he asks, looking at the light above his head.
"We've got a gear that we fueled with gas and... we're all out of beer."
"Well, gin it is."
"Bring a soda for our new friend," the mustached one orders. "By the way, my name is Tatsuo, what's your name?"
"Gojo Satoru," he answers with his hand firmly on the glass in which they pour a drink for him.
"The Gojo Satoru," Gosaki tells him slowly approaching and Satoru nods. "Wow, I thought you were a myth. Something the government invented to calm people down."
"A while ago I wouldn't have believed that a shaman wouldn't know my name."
"I just... became a shaman after 2018."
"That explains it."
"And what brings you here, Satoru Gojo?" Tatsuo asks.
"I'm..." he answers, looking at the gin, wondering how much damage it can cause him, "trying to drown my sorrows in alcohol. You?
"We don't drown our sorrows, we have fun! We loot, we drink, we're pirates."
"That's what I want! I need to have a little fun, you know? Take a moment off the burden I carry on my shoulders and forget for a moment about the girl who rejected me. An old friend of mine used to drink quite a bit, but he did it with a dignity that I will never be able to. I've only seen them do this in the movies and figured it might work for me. What do you guys think?"
"Boy, just drink. Tomorrow you'll only have time to think about how much your head hurts. You won't even remember that girl's name."
Maybe this will work, he tells himself. He shakes his head to the rhythm of the music, each glass that passes through his hand leaving him more and more numb. The boys get used to his presence after a few minutes just by seeing him sitting there. He closes his eyes and follows the beat. He turns from time to time to watch them play pool and from time to time closes one eye to subtly guide a colored sphere to the nearest hole.
The alcohol leaves his body warm, so much so that he doesn't realize he's still soaking wet.
He listens to the lyrics of the song playing on the jukebox and can only think of her even though he was assured the alcohol would help.
'Don't you love her madly? Don't you need her badly? Don't you lover her ways?'
"Shit, I really like that song," he says in between words piled together. He doesn't even know how many drinks he's had, yet he keeps the beat and shakes his head humming the song.
'Now tell me what you say. Don't you lover her madly? Wanna be her daddy? Don't you love her face? Don't you love her as she's walkin' out the door? Like she did one thousand times before.'
"That person knows exactly how I feel," he says before his face falls against the bar counter.
If you want to listen to the song Gojo listens to, it's Love her madly by The Doors.