Chapter Five

(Satoru Gojo's POV)

She's out of bed.

That's the first thing I register when I walk into her room late at night, wanting to check in on her after Toge Inumaki came in and finally got her to eat.

He'll never understand what I felt the moment I heard her quiet laugh. If he had asked, I would've given him the sky as payment.

"You're out of bed," I blurt out. It's…all I can really say.

She's sitting at the foot of it, her head pressed against the glass of one of the sliding back doors. She doesn't say anything, instead watching the rain fall slowly. She tracks a drop of it that slides down the glass outside, her eyes so hollow it makes me want to rip my soul out and stuff it in her, where hers should be.

"Yu-chi," I say softly.

She still stares at that droplet, but she answers me. "I had to throw up."

I blink. "Eh?" I look towards her unmade bed, slowly coming to realize what she meant. "Ah, you ate too much?"

She slowly nods, still not looking at me.

"That's okay," I assure her, approaching as my heart beats in my throat. "At least you ate. Toge's persuasive, right?"

"How old is he?"

I wasn't expecting that question. "How old?" I think for a moment. "16, I think. He's still a freshman. Why?"

She stares at her reflection in the glass now, her expression pensive. "'Cause he's short."

I burst out laughing. The action is so sudden that she finally looks at me. There's nothing on her face but exhaustion and weariness. A desire to crawl out of her body and never go back again.

I wipe a tear of laughter from the corner of my eye and sigh. "You're still funny, Yu-chi," I say to her, taking off my blindfold and winking at her.

She watches that. "Am I?"

No emotion. Not even in her voice.
I look at her, trying not to convey the small feeling of disappointment in my chest. She's making progress, at least. She's eating, and she's out of bed.

Baby steps, right?

"Are you okay?" I ask her. It's a question I've wanted to ask her from the moment I left her behind in that estate.

Are you okay that I left you like that?

Even now, I still feel the sting of that guilt, lingering over me like a ghost that will never cease to haunt me.

But like Maki, I had to get out of there. Or I'd be like Yuna is right now, unable to function properly. How would we have gotten out of that place if I'd been broken as well? I certainly wouldn't be able to look after her like this right now.

Take care of your sister.

I will, Mama.

I walk over and sit across from her, pressing my side against the glass. Our toes brush against each other, and I give her a small smile.

She watches that as well, as if it's something to behold. "I can't feel anything," she whispers. "There's something in me that's empty, and I have to live with it every second of the day."

The words hit me like a blow to the gut. It suddenly makes me want to cry. "Yu-chi-"
"I don't know what day it is," she continues, cutting me off. She won't tear her eyes away from mine. "I don't want to, because I don't care. And I care that I don't care. I hate that I don't care. But then I'm too tired to acknowledge that I care about that, and that exhaustion pushes me back to not caring, then caring about that, then being exhausted again."

She swallows. "I can't escape from myself."

Heavy. The words weigh so heavily in the air, and I move across the space between us to pull her into my arms. Her hair is a dead weight on her back, and her body is too thin in my arms. I feel her nose nuzzle against my shoulder, letting me hold her. I take in a shaking breath. "Yuna…"
I don't know what to say.

I've done many things. I've become the strongest jujutsu sorcerer on the entire planet, I've killed curses that could destroy that very planet ten times over, and I've trained some of the best future top sorcerers of the new age. But this…

I've never comforted someone.

Because I've never had someone there to comfort me.

"Yuna," I repeat, reaching up to touch her matted white hair. I swallow. "I know. I know you're tired, and you're drowning, and you don't want to leave this hole you're in. But I can tell you right now, you're going to die in here alone, and no one is going to be there to mourn you if this keeps up. Just me. And God knows I'll mourn you for eternity."

She doesn't respond. She doesn't even move.
I'm saying what I'd want to hear. No, I'm saying what someone should've told me a long time ago; a verbal slap to get myself back into reality.

"You will not heal today. You will not heal tomorrow. You might never heal. This feeling….this cycle you're in…it will linger. It will haunt you." I pull back to grasp her face in my hands. "But that doesn't mean you have to let it kill you. You can fight, and I pray to God that you will fight, because I'm getting tired of watching you drown." I brush back her hair. "I'm getting tired of watching my little sister hate herself so much."

Something flickers in her eyes, a sign that I'm getting through to her. Inch by inch. Slow as time can be.

"I don't care if it's eating just a few meat skewers or getting out of bed only because you have to throw up. I don't care if you only take a few steps away from the bed, or spend another two weeks in it. I don't care if you have to ignore the world around you just to stay okay enough to live a little longer." The words taste like bile in my throat. I never thought I'd have to convince my little sister to just…live.

I nudge her cheek, bringing her eyes back to me when they start to wander to the side. "You are allowed to fall," I say softly, yet firmly at the same time. "If that is what it takes for you to get back up."

Her eyes widen, as if she's heard something like that before.

I give her an unsure smile. "If you don't, I'll be here to help. You know I'll always give you a boost."

Her lips part, and it seems like she's struggling for words. "I…" It comes out on a rasp. "What is there to rise for?" The question is so quiet that I barely hear it.

I hug her tighter. "Isn't that what we rise for? To find out?"

Keep climbing.

Rise.

This is your bottom.

I might never know what exactly that first step was.

All I know is that in that moment, I crumbled in my brother's arms.

All I know is that I was suddenly hugging him back as tears slid down my face. All I know is I cried because I didn't know what was wrong with me. I didn't want to be sad anymore. I wanted to be okay.

And all I know is that when a cry tore out of me, my brother only held me tighter, as if he could abate my shaking. He was shaking, too. As if hearing me cry did something to him.

All I know is that I broke down, and I didn't think I'd ever get back up.

But somewhere in me, I stirred on the dusty, stone floor of my soul and rose.