I'm back and heres a fresh chapter! I've been plotting and planning ahead for several months and procrastination only a little. I may post back and forth between every week and every two weeks as I'm starting college and its a big step for me. I will be posting though. I've had a new wave of excitement for jujutsu kaisen with the second season out and the manga really picking up. I'm also very excited to be getting into Shibuya territory, especially with the anime approaching the same arc. With Shibuya being a very detailed and all over the place arc regarding timing and specific locations, I'll be moving at a slower pace when writing to make sure I get everything right when I cross reference my notes and the manga. Enjoy and I hope you like the story with Shohei and the plot he's changined, because I've really enjoyed it myself.
"And so the two formerly unregistered special-grades escaped the premises?" a voice behind the half dozen screens asked.
"Yes," Shohei confirmed, sick to his stomach and straight faced. "As Noritoshi Kamo arrived."
Shohei stood in the midst of the higher-ups in their meeting quarters, a dim room lit only by candle light with shuttering shadows and expanding darkness around the room wood and paper screens hid the jujutsu higher-ups behind them.
He had flown from the mountain top estate, made a brief stop to see Shoko and receive a change in clothes, and then to the private building that evening. For the past hour Shohei had been asked to give a play by play retelling of the attack on his Clan's estate the previous night.
The last thing Shohei wanted was to relive the worst night of his life, but it was his responsibility as the only sorcerer present from beginning to end. Kamo was on his way to give his two cents. Satoru would be in some time after him as well to give his own report and probably spit at the feet of every higher-up for no reason in particular.
"What a shame," another bodiless voice remarked, with no compassion accompanying the comment. "Both the curses' escape and the two casualties."
Shohei hummed in agreement, holding back any tone more emotional than the dull and straightforward one he had made use of for the report. This was the only way he could halt himself from showing a spark of emotion that could send him down a spiral. He already felt a lump in his throat as soon as he first mentioned seeing his father's corpse and didn't need to show any weakness to the group before him. He was barely subduing the flooding memories of his mother.
"What is the most concerning issue at hand is the seeming cooperation between curse and curse user. That is assuming the curses are still affiliated with others like Juzo since their attack on Tokyo High," a voice had spoken up.
"I think it is a curse user," Shohei quickly agreed. "The same curse that attacked us at the exchange event tried to make it sound more vague, but unless they have some ancient library or recording of nearly ancient jujutsu secrets, then it's simply a knowledgeable curse user. And we can't forget the now confirmed rat amongst our midst. The curses all but confirmed the spy's existence."
"Yes. Quite troublesome," said the screen. "Good thing we are mobilizing a unit of students to investigate our number one suspect tomorrow. This only confirms this was a wise decision on our part."
"Way to toot your own horn you wrinkly nut sack," Shohei bitterly thought to himself.
Shohei spoke up, "I'd like to be additionally added to that mission."
"Now I don't think…" a voice began, but Shohei continued.
"With all due respect, I may look to be at full performance capacity but none of the suspected spy's I suspect in jujutsu society right now pose a major threat to me. Unless one of our renowned special-grades or everyones' favorite third-year Hakari have turned sour like Suguru Geto did."
Shohei was now insisting, feeling like Satoru in every meeting he's ever had with the higher-ups. Demanding his way with power they can't hope to oppose. Whether it's his own strength or being Satoru's right hand, even if they weren't speaking at the moment.
No foolishly conservative old man hidden behind a screen spoke up. Shohei continued.
"Besides, I will be accompanying the first-years, am I right? They can still take the forefront as it is their mission first and foremost, but I would be an indispensable tool for searching for the spy if they hide or flee."
Shohei gestured to his hidden eyes behind polka dotted bangs.
"You pose a great point Gojo-san," a screen spoke up, the voice restraining their protest. "Very well."
"Thank you," Shohei said, giving a courteous bow to appease them all after being rather crass. "I'm assuming that is all for now?"
"Yes," they agreed. "You are dismissed."
Shohei turned to the exit without a second glance or word. He threw open the door and took off with a sonic boom, rattling those inside the building, flying back home to Tokyo High.
In no time Shohei was touching down right outside of his dormitory and pulling off his clothes to examine his former wounds that Shoko did her best to utterly reverse.
With his shirt and socks lying on the floor, he saw that his previously shredded achilles was perfectly fine. He could bear his whole weight on it and his fighting and movement wasn't inhibited at all. The hole blown in his stomach hadn't so much as left a dot of a scar, but his freshly replaced organs and bones deeply ached. As for any other bruises or lacerations he might've sustained, they were wiped clean from his body and memory.
There however was one mark Shoko couldn't do much more than lessen. She had studied transfigured humans before when Itadori and Nanami first encountered Mahito, and she was unable to heal them as their souls were fully transfigured and were dead upon transfiguration. She said Shohei was lucky to only partially be affected by the technique in a more harmless area. If it were his chest near his heart, his stomach near his well of cursed energy, or on his skull affecting his brain, he might have suffered worse repercussions. A lip however would never heal properly, but at least would only be cosmetic.
The mark left on Shohei's face from Mahito's final attack of Idle Transfiguration. It had previously left his lips, chin, and jaw wrinkled and gnarled, like misshapen clay or a knot in a tree. Now with the treatment of the best and one of the only reverse cursed technique users in the world, Shohei still was disfigured.
However, now, the disfigurement was only in his lip. The left side of Shohei's lip was curled downward in a permanent frown, semi-spiraling like it once was. If he were to smile the curled lip could only bend and twist into a measly neutral look while the rest of his lip was pulled thin to form a smile. His smile was no longer his own, not that he had smiled once anytime soon.
Shohei finished stripping and got in the shower. He lingered in it for longer than needed, sluggishly scrubbing away the grit and grime piled on from the long night. He stayed more so to feel the self punishing sting of the excessively hot water and to let the steam release the tension his muscles had been holding since he first got news of the attack. The heat sadly did almost nothing for the deep ache in his stomach.
When Shohei's skin was another moment longer away from blistering, he finished his shower and dried. The tall boy stood before his mirror, his bangs lifted from his face. He wanted to see his newly altered face in its wholeness. Every glance or period of staring towards the scar bombarded Shohei's brain with the night's encounter.
No matter how hard he tried to think of previous times or of anything else, he was reminded. Reminded of his failure. Reminded that his idiotic cousin set him up for that failure because of his own arrogance as a teacher and sorcerer. Surely Satoru couldn't have failed to prepare his student or be wrong about a hunch of a damn cursed finger. Shohei was reminded of his lost family, all their pain and fear, and his failure to protect and save them from it.
Shohei fell back to reality, staring at the scar it and staring right back. He clenched the porcelain of the sink until his knuckles were stark white. Shohei reeled his fist in a flash, a wave of piling frustration washing over him, ready to shatter the mirror and the wall behind it.
Before his fist came loose, a knock met his ear.
"I'm in the shower," Shohei hollered to his dormitory door, fist still raised.
"I don't hear the water running," Maki's voice returned.
"Well I'm naked," Shohei grumbled, dropping the fist and releasing his vice grip on the sink.
"Nothing I haven't seen before," Maki scoffed, like his response was stupid. "Open the door already."
Shohei wasn't going to win the argument. He never would win one against Maki.
Shohei left his bathroom and pulled on some pants. He reached the handle to swing the door open, but remembered his scar in a jolt of panic. He halted his swing to leave the door only cracked enough to peer one eye through.
Maki stuck her gold eye across the crack and demanded, "What's with the weird ass behavior?"
"I'm busy," Shohei lied swiftly.
"No you're not," Maki informed. "You just got done showering."
"Well I'm tired," Shohei revamped. "I just got back from a mission."
"That you were supposed to have completed before this morning," Maki countered. "I was waiting for you this morning before going on a quick mission. I was pulling up from that mission just now when I saw you fly back in. It was just some small fries in the sticks wasn't it? What took you so long?"
"I had a second mission unexpectedly come up right after," Shohei half lied. "I'll tell you about it some other time. Just not right now."
Maki, seemingly suspecting something, continued her interrogation.
"Why not tell me now?" Maki pried.
"Because I'm tired," Shohei defended.
"Well then let's lay down," Maki offered, sounding like she just offered the perfect ultimatum. She pushed the door open wider, but Shohei pushed it back to a sliver and planted his foot behind it.
"I said no Maki!" Shohei barked, leaning against the door. "Bug the hell off right now. Please. I'm dealing with something and I want to be alone."
He was telling the truth, he was dealing with some turmoil, but Shohei was more so unwilling for Maki to see the state of him. Not right then when he was just in the midst of a breakdown and making sense of his feelings and scar.
"Then let me help," Maki insisted, pushing back against the door, the hinges rattling and the wood creaking. She did not trust how her boyfriend was acting. "There's something wrong, right? Why won't you let me help you?"
"Because," Shohei replied bitterly. "I need to do it myself. I don't want your help. I don't want you to look at me right now!"
"Why? Because you're naked?" Maki snorted. "Because you screwed up on a mission or because you have a black eye? You dumb ass. I don't care about that stuff."
"Oh my god!" Shohei snarled, cussing as he leapt back from the door, causing Maki to stumble forward into his room.
He lunged back to the door and slammed it shut. He snatched Maki upright by her arm and forced her to look at him.
"Because I'm a failure!" Shohei shouted, gesturing to his twisted lip. "Because I have the blood of innocent people on my hands. Because I lost and had my life in the literal hands of an insane bastard. I was one step away from losing it all and dying. Because my existence made two curses break into my old home, kill my parents, threaten the lives of the sheep I used to call family, and left me an inch away from death like no one ever has. I was left with the lives of dozens and dozens of people in my hands. Not one soul in your whole clan, the Kamos, the higher-ups who I just had to relive it all for, and everyone's saving grace and hero Satoru Gojo bothered to give me a helping hand against two fucking special-grades when they all knew the trouble we were in! The same two who we've known are on the loose, scheming and conniving like rats, and have already attacked us!"
Shohei's own words riled him up beyond what he's ever felt. He whipped from Maki and upturned his dresser, flinging it across the room like nothing. It crushed his night stand and spilled the drawer's contents everywhere. Shohei kicked his bed, splintering the wooden frame and punching a hole in the wall behind the headboard from the force. Shohei lunged for his shelf of National Geographic material next, kicking loose clothes and his scattered possessions aside. As he raised his hands to overturn it, Maki grabbed his wrist and yanked him back.
"You'll regret damaging those," she said cooly, her lustrous golden eyes piercing his fogged mind. His foreign fit of rage left her unfazed.
Shohei tore his wrist from her grip. She let him go. Her slowing his warpath quickly stifled that hot feeling in his stomach and face. He no longer wanted to keep wrecking his room.
Instead, he sat down on his disheveled floor and left his hands draped over his face, tears swiftly steaming between his fingers and down his arms as his shuddering breathing shook his chest.
Maki slowly approached, nudging aside the debris next to him, and took a seat.
Shohei blubbered, trying to gather his words while still shuddering with his hands over his face. Maki shushed him.
"Just wait until you're ready," Maki halted quietly, not touching the boy. She did however leave her hand by his leg where he could see it through his fingers.
Shohei wiped one hand partially dry and gripped Maki's extended hand with it, his other still covering his mouth and his head planted between his raised knees.
They sat in partial silence, the only noise being Shohei's deep breathing and wiping of his tears.
Soon Shohei slumped onto Maki's shoulder, his gasping slowing to a hiccup, and even then, they still sat in silence.
Only when Shohei opened his mouth and felt no hiccup rise to interrupt him did he speak.
"Do you think any less of me?" Shohei murmured.
"Of course not," Maki assured, squeezing his hand. "You're only human."
Her words slowed Sho's racing mind. She was right, and it was okay that he felt this way. He had experienced more in one night than many people or sorcerers ever do in their life.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Maki followed up.
"Not really," Shohei sighed, his voice now returned and full. "But can I tell you something?"
"Always," she said.
"I blame myself. And the higher-ups for either holding back Noritoshi from getting more help or not forcing the Zenin to actually help. But more than anyone I still blame Satoru," Shohei said, refraining from turning any colder or bitter at the mention of Satoru.
His hand had fallen from his mouth as he spoke, no longer hiding his snarling scar, letting Maki clearly look at it now.
"Uhuh," Maki nodded, not commenting, but listening, refraining from commenting about or staring at the scar.
"He with all his competency and self proclaimed and proven capability, was fooled. And if rather than pursuing this false lead for a finger, he could've stopped all this shit from spiraling out of control."
Maki hummed, still listening.
"He brushed me aside, saying I could handle it, knowing full well the scope of the issue at hand and more than likely who was behind it," Shohei scoffed, sitting upright. "You'd think that retrieving one of those damn fingers could wait when his clan was being held hostage and no one but a single sorcerer was on the scene already with only one other on their way. Distance wasn't even the issue when the dick can teleport anywhere he wants. Right?"
"You want my opinion?" Maki asked, an unsure look plaguing her eyes when Shohei posed the question. "I don't think that's smart right now actually."
"Go ahead actually," Shohei asked. "After stewing in my thoughts all day I think I could use someone else's'."
"Okay, well," Maki started. "I understand you had your back to the wall. Everyone who could have helped you dropped the ball and left you out to dry, which is a real dick move. But, I think you should suck it up for the most part."
Shohei raised an eyebrow at her answer. She quickly began to explain herself more.
"Not suck up the pain you're going through, but the issues everyone sparked. You should know better than to trust the Zenin or even the higher-up hags."
"You sound like Satoru," Shohei sighed, looking back to the floor.
"He knows what he is talking about sometimes, but I'm not siding with him," Maki said. "He's the strongest and this and that and whatever the hell else, but he also is some of your only good family. And you're his only good family, and he needs to remember that. He left you hanging when in a tough spot like a dick just to maybe snag one of Sukuna's fingers for Itadori. Yeah, Itadori is a favorite student of his and a great kid, and he is in a tough spot in his own regard, but he wasn't in any immediate danger. Gojo expects to be dealing with this finger shit for the long run, and I think it was really shity of him to prioritize that over you asking for help with an immediate problem when he could've helped like no one else."
"Yeah," Shohei said dully, glancing back at her.
"And as for this scar," Maki continued in a bold voice, but Shohei winced at the reminder of it. Maki then softened her voice and eyes. "It might be a bitter sting in your memory everytime you look at it, but it's a trophy in my eyes. A trophy of triumph. One you earned for beating the odds and surviving the most challenging night you've faced that I'm sure anyone shy if your skill would have not survived."
Shohei almost grinned without thinking of it, but felt his lips stretch and slackened his mouth, simply nodding.
"It also makes you look like you're not some pushover little boy who has never had a scratch on him like you did before," Maki added. "Always cute, but now more handsome and a little rugged."
"Thanks," Shohei said, tracing the scar lightly.
"Would you mind?" Maki asked, holding out a hand towards his lip.
"Umm," Shohei hesitated, not ready for it to be touched more, especially by someone else.
"That's okay," Maki hurried, putting her hand away and not questioning it again. "I'm in no rush to feel your face."
Shohei chucked through his nose, not twisting his lips into a grin. It felt odd to him. He wanted to smile and at the same time didn't, but wanted to show he was happier than before.
"Sometime," Shohei replied, holding her hand tighter. "Just not yet."
"Then that settles it," Maki concluded.
"But," Shohei said, grabbing her hand and pulling it back. He held it before his face, and with a deep breath, he contorted his lips into a kiss and planted it on her knuckles.
"Thanks stud," Maki said, twisting her hand to hold his own again. "It means a lot for you to be pushing your boundaries to show me a little love. I'll leave you alone now."
"That would be nice actually," Shohei agreed, standing and pulling her up with him. "But thank you for listening, even if you had to break in."
"I'm only a little sorry," Maki chuckled, winding up a punch, but dismissing it realizing Shohei was a little tender about touching right now.
They made their way to the door through the collateral of Sho's breakdown and paused at the door.
"You know," Shohei began. "Satoru and I aren't each other's only family."
"Oh?" Maki questioned, raising a genuine eyebrow.
"You're my family," Shohei said, pulling Maki closer. "He's raising those troublesome first-years like they're his litter of kittens, and Megumi has been his kid even longer than he's been raising me. He took Itadori under his wing as quickly as Yuta who's our literal distant family. He taught us second-years terribly and pretty good at the same time. He'd die for us all. Even Hakari and Kirara after all the trouble they've gotten into."
"Lucky us," Maki scoffed. "One troublesome family. That makes two for me."
"A cut above those bigots in your old family," Shohei hissed to himself, nothing but animosity for almost all in the Zenin clan. Especially after their leaders abandoned him to fight all alone. "But what I'm saying is you all are and always have been my real family. You're who I've grown up with and fought alongside. Not my clan."
"That's sweet Sho," Maki smirked, resting a hand on his chest.
Shohei stood there, taking in the warmth on Maki's body, when a bitter thought crossed his mind. The same man he wasn't talking to taught and reminded him of that. Satoru had said the same thing no more than a few hours ago atop a lonely mountain.
Long after Maki left, Shohei had pushed the thoughts of battle and death to the back of his mind purely because of his inability to stop thinking about Gojo's teachings.
Shohei had more than one thought to pick with Satoru, but he was right about a lot. And Maki showed him even more that Gojo was right about.
But just because he was right about some things doesn't mean Sho could forgive him for the rest he messed up and wronged.
The following day Shohei was up bright and early against the protest of his exhausted body knocking at Fushiguro's door. Greeted by Shohei's straight laced faced, Fushiguro swung his door open, still in his nightwear.
"Morning bed head," Shohei greeted without a smile but all the familiar humor.
"The mission isn't till another hour and a half," the dark haired first-year informed, already knowing what Shohei was after. Sho being dressed in uniform already possibly giving it away.
"Good to see you know I'm joining," Shohei said, striding past the shorter boy and sitting on the floor against his bed.
Megumi side tracked as he began to dress now he was fully awake. "You look taller."
"A little. I'm still a growing boy," Shohei amused the comment, knowing what Megumi was getting at. "The scar's new. From the attack on the Clan estate. I'm sure Gojo has or will tell you about it."
"He did. Stopped by yesterday before giving his report. Wanted me to check up on you. I thought it would be wiser to let you be for the night."
"You guessed right," Shohei chuckled duly, avoiding eye contact. "Maki barged in and I flipped my lid. Granted my fuse was lit before she even walked in. Thank you for the thought though."
"Of course," Fushiguro assured. "So you got the old heads to add you onto the mission roster."
"Of course. I've got to see this rat bastard of a spy brought in after they screwed me over," Shohei said, a merciless gleam in his eye hiding behind his bangs. His animated tone really just a facade.
"I don't think you should take point," Fushiguro hesitated, pulling on his shoes on his bedside by Sho. "Not when you might tear them apart before we can get them back here."
"I didn't plan to. I was gonna spot from afar, ready to pursue if they flee. This is your mission after all. I'm just a ride along."
"But you would tear them apart," he teased through his stoic straight demeanor.
"Obviously," Shohei sniggered, elbowing the boy's leg. "Are you ready?"
"For what? We've got time to kill."
"We've got to collect the others early too don't we?"
Alongside the three first-years, after an extensive battle to wake Yuji from his coma-like stupor and fleeing from a disheveled Nobara, the four students made their way to the escort car at the front of the school.
In no time they were at the rendezvous with the adult sorcerer assisting in their mission, Utahime Iori, from Kyoto High. The students flooded from the car into the downfall of rain.
"Good to see you'll be joining us as well Gojo-san," Utahime greeted with a bow. Shohei bowed back. She gestured towards a nearby parking garage. "This way if you please."
They made their way under the cover and strolled through the lot.
"Gojo has informed you all about the mole right?" Utahime inquired.
"Yes," they all responded, extra professional under the gaze of a more professional senior sorcerer. They all could never take Satoru seriously.
"We think there're are two or more people feeding information to the curse users," Utahime continued to explain further.
"One had to be highly ranked, even higher than the principles. I can't do anything about that. The other is someone feeding information to that higher-up… today's target. They're still only under suspicion. So after apprehending the suspects, we need to conduct an interrogation."
"I call bad cop," Shohei claimed. Itadori and Nobara chuckled, but no smile crept onto Shohei's face.
"So," Nobara interjected. "It's someone from the Kyoto school, right?"
Itadori gasped at the claim.
"It has to be since we, from the Tokyo branch, are all here."
"Wow Kugisaki," Itadori gushed at her conclusions, surely unable to deduce the same himself.
Utahime looked grimm. This was evidently true and that meant one of her own students was the very subject of their mission.
"The mole is…" Utahime choked, the truth halting in her throat. "Mechamaru."
Shohei's brain flooded with images and memories of the sorcerer piloted robot. How long had he been feeding information to the enemy, remaining in their midst? How did he do so? Where was his real body?
Shohei had to bring his racing mind to a screeching halt. He was only a suspect. A highly likely and suspected one, but one nonetheless. Not a real culprit until proven guilty.
"Before we progress," Utahime continued, gathering her composure and their attention. "Gojo-san. Could you examine the path below us."
Shohei reached out to the ground below them, sensing no evident residuals of cursed energy, living signatures belonging to shikigami or sorcerers, or traps. He did however sense a void spot. An area hidden from his sensing. Some sort of room or compartment with seals preventing any sorcerer from reading the energy inside the room from outside.
Any sorcerer not versed in tracking would walk on by the room without giving it a second glance, the seals doing their job. Shohei's sensing however was broad enough to encompass the whole room and see that it was like a paragraph erased from an essay and not replaced, not completing the whole image.
"There is a room sealed from the inside. Meant to be hidden when drawn near. No traps or even residuals along the way, but I can't see inside. More than likely where he could be hiding," Shohei informed them, still reaching out and searching all around them for other signs.
"Has he possibly sensed us?" Megumi questioned, eyeing their surroundings and even taking a casual but battle ready stance. "He has the range to control a cursed puppet across the whole nation, correct?"
"He can only see through his own puppet and the typical range surrounding it," Shohei informed them, sharing the little information he knew about his technique. "He can control his puppets through the entire nation, but he can't sense anyone through the entire nation. It's like how my Gravity Conductor can reach Shooting Star all the way up in the upper atmosphere, but not grab and control things through all of japan. It has an effective range, but loses strength the further it goes out, eventually requiring a familiar object to be channeled through at the maximum ranges."
"What?" Itadori muttered, not tracking.
"No," Shohei summed up. "He hasn't sensed us."
"Good job. That's all I needed," Utahime said, stepping forward. "Now if you could stand guard wherever you think is appropriate to track our progress and pursue him if he flees, that would be appreciated."
"Of course. Good luck," Shohei agreed.
As the advancing group began to track down a stairwell leading to lower levels, Shohei grabbed Fushiguro by the arm and shared a brief word with him.
"Don't be afraid to rough him up a bit when you 'detain' him."
"I'll be sure Itadori and Kugisaki don't pull their punches," Megumi assured, nodding.
Per request of his senior sorcerer, Shohei perched himself atop the parking garage roof, looming over the edge like a gargoyle on its perch. The rain fell down as hard as ever, but held no influence on the boy as he remained focused on his task and dry due to his Gravity Field.
Shohei was hyper fixated on keeping watch. Not a single thought or image crossed his mind as the boy kept a vigilant watch. He both tracked the signatures of the group advancing on the sealed room and scanned the surrounding for any foreign signatures or residuals.
A single car had made its way to the top of the roof in the time Shohei spent atop the roof, stumbling upon a strange sight. There Shohei sat squating on the ledge of the building, a lanky boy dressed in all black with black and white polka-dotted hair drooping over his eyes, completely dry in the torrential downpour. The car swiftly made their way out of the parking garage.
Reaching the sealed room after several moments of walking down a deep and winding underground path, the group surrounded the door, ready to breach and detain Kokichi Muta.
Itadori's cursed energy flared and the door was blasted off its hinges, releasing the seal on the room, revealing nothing in the room. No residuals, no signatures, not even anything to take up space and distort his sensing vision from what Shohei saw.
"No!" Shohei wailed, jolting upward from his perch, cursing. He kicked the roof wall and threw himself into the open air over the ledge.
He dove into the thin disappeared woods below and began swooping through them, scanning the underground looking for hidden or extensive pathways.
"The rat can't hide a whole pathway in seals," Shohei rationalized to himself, desperate to find a way Muta could have escaped.
This was seemingly the only dwellings of his Utahime knew of, and she was his teacher. If he wasn't here there was a fat chance anyone would be finding him anytime soon. And with this failed attempt to capture him, he may catch wind of their suspicions of him and burrow deeper underground, if he hasn't already, explaining why he wasn't present.
Shohei touched down at the edge of the forest, falling into a sprint as he rushed into a busy sidewalk of people fleeing from the rain. He whipped around, scanning every inch of the range of sensing,
"Damn damn damn," Shohei muttered, his eyes twitching frantically, desperately searching for some sign of the man physically before him as well.
Shohei came across a road leaping over and winding through zooming cars as curses and shouts followed behind him. He ran and ran, hoping, praying something would come across his gaze. Some sign. Some lead.
Shohei ran and ran, only halted by the ringing of his phone. He skirted to a halt, kicking up a puddle. He burrowed through his pockets for it and threw it to his ear.
"Megumi?!" Shohei spat, his heart racing faster than he just was.
"You saw. He isn't here," the boy informed, hesitant to give such key news to his friend, knowing how much this meant to him. "Not even an inkling of a sign."
The tall boy gripped the phone unconsciously, sending a crack streaking across the screen from the force.
"Daaaaaamn!" Shohei roared at the top of his lungs to the sky, echoing all throughout the drenched city streets.