A/N: I'm not going to say much this time since I had a whole existential crisis in the author's notes last chapter. We're still in the romantic filler portion of the story, but for this chapter we're going to take some time to expand a bit on why so many questions are still left unanswered from chapters 1-5. So while it's filler...it's important filler. Many thanks to you all for reading. I hope the holiday season is treating you all well and that you guys will enjoy this chapter. Best wishes and God bless you all!
Disclaimer: Jujutsu Kaisen is the property of Gege Akutami and other copyright holders. This work is merely a Fanfiction.
IMPORTANT TRIGGER WARNING: The first section of this chapter contains depictions of suicidal thoughts, hints of familial violence, and heavy mourning. Aspects of this first section are designed to unsettle the reader given the subject matter and the themes I chose to convey through them. Reader discretion is highly advised within this section. I initially wanted to keep the romantic filler portion of the story very lighthearted...but the angst kicked in something fierce. This story is a passion project, and I see now that I'm working through some things within this narrative. Please proceed with caution. Also, in the second half of the chapter I may have written one character...slightly out of character. You'll see what I mean when you get to it.
Eleven Years Earlier
December 24th, 2006
Paris, France
11:00pm
Miharu Kelmendi is exhausted.
Her heels pound against cobblestone streets while frigid winds pierce holes through her flesh. Beneath a thick, unbuttoned black trench coat, she wears what onlookers perceive as a flimsy, gold-colored halter-mini dress paired with skin-colored tights and black ankle boots.
They don't notice the duffel bag thrown over her right shoulder, the white ice-skates dangling from the laces she holds in an iron grip in her hand, or the tears falling over her cheeks.
Even if they had bothered to take in these details, the 19-year-old figure skater wouldn't have cared.
Miharu feels as if her soul has disappeared from the world of the living, but her body performs the same tasks as increasingly brutal gusts carry varying scents of coffee, croissants, and pastries to her nose. Her stomach growls, her ears tingle from the fragments of conversation she hears while passing by cafes, and her heart continues its frenetic rhythm even when her walk evolves into a sprint.
Running is her default…but she can't run from this.
The guilt and turmoil that came with Angelica's disappearance should have been enough for a lifetime.
…
She was careful. She had been extremely careful in keeping her heart confined.
…
She should have been the one to disappear. The man she once called father told her that.
…
On the ice, Miharu could fade into herself amidst applause and wails of adoration.
…
It was the only place where cold isolation felt like heaven.
…
But tonight, skating her old competition program for a Christmas exhibition was pure, agonizing torture.
…
It wouldn't have been that way if not for him.
She had been careful. So careful…
…
Yet still not careful enough…
…
He was the warm glow of summer hidden behind a camera lens. He photographed whatever caught his attention everywhere he went. He captured beauty within the mundane, shouted his existence with provocative art few understood, and gave away his heart with reckless abandon.
Miharu fell in love with him the instant she saw him…but she never voiced these feelings.
…
She was scared to fall without a clear safety net. It was easier to pretend they were nothing more than good friends.
…
The only kiss they shared was written off as a mistake.
…
Every second they spent together was weighed down by her fear.
…
But now…
…
She slams the door of her apartment shut, sealing herself away from the clamor of the city as she turns each lock. Once through with this task, she drops her duffel bag and skates, kicks off her shoes, and dashes into the bathroom. She doesn't bother to switch on any lights. Instead, she uses the moonlight streaming in from a nearby window as a guide while twisting the handles of the tub.
The noise of running water accompanies her hurried movements to strip herself of every piece of clothing. A fleeting notion to close the blinds enters her mind during the process, since that's what she would normally do to ensure none of her neighbors peeped in while she bathed, but tonight isn't a normal night.
Tonight she doesn't care.
In her haste to get everything off, she tears a hole through her tights, eliciting a huff of frustration as she tosses them into the growing pile of fabric gathering at her feet.
It doesn't matter. Nothing matters now.
…
...
...
After a few more minutes of preparation, Miharu sinks into the scalding hot water.
In one hand she holds a bottle of wine an acquaintance gifted her. In the other she holds a container of over-the-counter medication.
…
This night isn't the first time suicide has crossed her mind, nor is it her first rodeo with the emotional pitfalls of tragedy. She knows firsthand how carelessly grief tears at souls with its sharp claws and mangled, crimson-stained teeth.
…
That despicable emotion destroyed the man she considered a father for most of her childhood.
…
With fingernails pressed into her neck and hate filling his golden eyes, that man told her she should have been the one to disappear…that she shouldn't have existed at all.
…
She believed him back then.
…
She believes him now too.
…
Sighing, Miharu places the wine bottle down on the floor so she has a free hand to unscrew the lid on the pills.
…
When she pours a handful of capsules into her palm, she realizes grief is going to destroy her too.
…
How sad.
…
How unbearably pathetic to succumb to that man's demons.
…
Suicide isn't a path of escape.
…
Miharu knows this, but she continues to stare at the pills in her hand as if they're the answer to her prayers.
…
Despair is the culmination of hope deferred one too many times.
...
Fighting for a future feels nonsensical…because she never should have survived this long.
…
She's simply a mistake of infidelity that cursed a family.
…
Angelica protected her. Saved her.
…
But she also left her behind in a broken home.
…
...
...
This night isn't the first time suicide has crossed her mind, but the temptation to pull that fatal trigger has never been as potent as it is right now.
…
Worst of all, the only person capable of granting her any reassurance vanished from her life just as swiftly as her sister had.
…
He didn't consider her existence as something evil, nor did he view her as a robotic doll designed to fulfill everyone else's wishes. She wasn't some ideal of perfection either.
…
She was simply a woman he wanted to share his life with.
…
But is one person's love enough to live for…even after they're gone?
…
At nineteen, Miharu doesn't have an answer to that question. She never anticipated needing to puzzle over such things when Angelica was counted among the dead in soft conversations held behind closed doors.
In patches, she had heard fleeting words.
…
Sorcerer...
…
Cursed Spirit…
…
Disappeared…
…
These were all words her mother murmured to men in black suits.
…
Miharu didn't understand what was happening then.
…
She ran.
…
She survived.
…
She danced on ice to free herself from the weight of existence.
…
She had been careful. So careful...
...
Yet still not careful enough to save herself, for tonight's anguish is the result of sharing her heart beyond her frigid domain. She allowed him to take his photographs and arrange magazine spreads that showcased her value in his life. Whenever they were together, he made up any excuse he could to capture every candid gesture he found amusing or alluring while suggesting she throw herself into the runway scene. She would make more money modeling than she would pouring all her energy into skating, especially since she hadn't bothered to enter any competitions that year.
While considering the proposition, she told him she preferred exhibition events tethered to fairytales and romance than rigorous shows of athleticism for the sake of attaining medals that would just gather dust on a shelf. He pointed out that she could easily become an actress and perform those same stories without wearing her body down.
…
He didn't understand that she needed the dizzying rush of wind and frost.
…
And, though he never said it, she knew a small part of him wanted to coerce her into modeling so he could make her his full-time obsession under a guise of strict professionalism.
…
He couldn't properly hide his feelings, but she could hide from hers forever.
…
...
...
He was supposed to come watch her skate tonight. She had wanted to convey her feelings through a dance designed to speak to his heart…and his alone.
…
This profession was more than a passion. It was an outlet that allowed her to breathe and experience her humanity safely…because every other facet of her life requires a façade of strength she doesn't truly have.
…
…
…
The pills slip from her trembling hand, landing in the water with a soft plop.
…
...
...
She remembers touching his face. She remembers the sensation of his lips on hers while weaving her fingers through his dark hair.
…
…
…
Right now, Miharu craves him almost as much as she craves death. She can envision him sitting across from her in the spacious tub, gazing at her with uninhibited desire and affection.
…
If only running wasn't her default when confronted with the unknown.
…
Perhaps then she would have known what loving him felt like.
…
Instead, she sits alone with nothing to comfort her but ideas of joining him in the grave.
…
The pills floating along the water's surface aren't the only route she can take to him.
…
She allows her gaze to drift to the razor she keeps on the outer edge of the tub.
…
How would it feel to dig the dull blades into her wrists?
…
Would she feel any pain while watching her blood cloud the water? Terror? Relief?
…
Could he have turned death into art?
...
The morbid questions elicit bitter, humorless laughs that echo in the silence.
…
She hates it. She hates the hot tears flowing down her face, the tremors shaking through her body, and every shuddering breath that comes out of her mouth.
But she keeps laughing. She laughs until she screams.
…
She was never supposed to feel this.
…
Miharu was the one who should have disappeared that day beneath the Cliffs of Moher. Not Angelica.
…
But she's still here. She's still taking up spaces her sister should have been the one to occupy.
…
And now she's lost someone else.
…
It's her fault. It's always her fault.
…
Existing wasn't her choice, but running away was.
…
How can she possibly live with regret like that? How much more pain should she be expected to carry while putting on the same empty smile day after day?
She should just end it, right?
…
She wants to. She really wants to.
…
But she can't.
…
Ending everything here would dishonor the sacrifice Angelica made. She gave herself up to a monster to protect her…because her life had meant something to her.
…
No matter how deeply Miharu hates herself, she can't simply throw her life away.
…
She must survive…because it's what her sister wanted.
…
A wish born from familial love is a curse upon a wounded heart that is never given enough time to heal, but Miharu keeps it beating to serve what's left of her family, to encourage those that depend on her to rise up to each new challenge, and to cull the quiet desperation of the masses with distracting fantasies of perfection.
…
Even if she never skates again, she can't simply fade away. Too many need her to stay cheerful, to aim towards some new ambition, or project some false image of courage into the world so they can feel inspired.
…
Vocalizing her pain is pointless…because no one truly listens.
…
But for a while, he did.
…
He may not have understood the things she felt…but he listened.
…
And now…that's gone too.
…
Not a soul on this Earth can hear her guttural cries for him. Even if they could…she doubts any would care because he didn't mean anything to them…just like she doesn't mean anything to anyone anymore.
The rage and despair behind those thoughts blinds the young woman as she reaches for the bottle of wine she had planned to drink with the pills, and with a howl ripping itself from somewhere deep in her soul, she hurls it across the room.
She doesn't see where the bottle goes. It's too dark for that, but she hears the deafening roar of shattering glass echo through the quiet.
…
Will someone hear that? Will someone listen to her now?
…
Miharu spends several seconds in quiet fury amidst the lingering echoes of the noise.
...
A gruesome chill begins to fill the room.
...
She bites down hard on her bottom lip when she realizes the bottle went through the window.
…
…
It doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore.
…
She tastes blood on her tongue and her chest burns.
…
She could slip beneath the water and stay there until she drowns, but rather than immediately act on that impulse, she leans back against the tub without another thought toward the frigid air in the room or the dull hum of sound coming from the streets below her apartment.
…
Her rage is slowly replaced by resignation.
...
Fully prepared to surrender her sister's wish, Miharu glances up at the ceiling a final time.
…
A shimmer of blue across its surface catches her attention. She knows it's merely moonlight refracting off the water inside the tub, but…
…
It's beautiful.
…
She inhales.
…
She exhales.
…
And after some minutes have passed, she pivots her head toward the window.
There's a sizable hole through the center of the glass, but she isn't paying attention to that.
…
…
…
She has the perfect view of a full moon casting its mystifying, azure glow across Paris.
…
As she stares at it, a gentle gust reaches inside and caresses her face.
…
She can't explain the calm that washes over her in that moment. Nothing has changed. She still views her existence in a negative light, and it's possible she'll simply corrode a little more each day until the end, but…
…
In this moment, gazing up at the moon, Miharu Kelmendi doesn't feel alone anymore.
…
Real strength will breathe life into her again…someday.
…
Until then, she'll have to keep pretending, not only for her sister, but for the man she loved and lost as well.
…
And so, on the following morning, she locates a business card he gave her during his last visit.
…
In a week's time, she would use the agency he suggested to book her first runway show.
December 15th, 2017
Tokyo, Japan – Shinjuku City District
11:30pm
Satoru Gojo is many things.
Strong.
Arrogant.
Extremely immature for a man approaching thirty, but reliable in virtually any crisis despite his affinity for recklessness whilst displaying his power.
He is a capable Sorcerer that everyone can rely on.
That's why, despite how aggravating he can be, Kento Nanami rarely questions Gojo's judgement. His mastery over his technique combined with years of exceptional mission performances have thoroughly showcased his dominance in their field. Furthermore, every action he takes is meticulously calculated, even when he chooses to portray himself as a fool.
In summation, he does not act thoughtlessly.
…
Except for right now, because Gojo's explanation about a non-sorcerer woman with an extremely concerning Cursed Technique becoming his girlfriend during the forty-five-minute window between his entry into the Veil and the "exorcism" of the Special Grade has to be the most inane, psychotic, and thoughtless progression of events Nanami has ever heard in his life.
Truly, it's mind-boggling enough to make him dizzy.
It's no wonder Ijichi fainted.
What's worse is that Gojo sent him to handle the clean-up work, which consisted of tending to their twitching, feverish colleague while soothing the panic of two assistant managers freaking out over the non-sorcerer woman that either, discovered the long-kept secrets of Jujutsu Society, or became a victim to the Special Grade Curse inside the barrier she shouldn't have been able to see or touch in the first place.
With minimal knowledge available beyond Ijichi's unconscious murmuring of "girlfriend" at the time, Nanami decided he would take it upon himself to investigate the matter personally. He advised the managers to keep quiet about the incident seeing that the Special Grade was appropriately disposed of, and since no grave ramifications had come from the woman's appearance.
He even went out on a limb to say that Gojo had, more than likely, handled the issue already.
…
But the issue isn't handled and Ijichi's feverish rambling wasn't just some misunderstanding. Gojo legitimately decided to declare this woman as his girlfriend within an hour of meeting her, thus dragging her into a complicated web she has no concept of.
The former salary man wants this entire scenario to be a ridiculous prank, but given how this idiot just finished gloating about an extensive research project his sweetheart inspired, Nanami knows that, if nothing else, he's firmly locked-in on keeping this ludicrous relationship.
"You're a little too quiet over there. Are you okay?"
…
"I'm…processing."
"Like my computer here?" Gojo questions, his voice slightly distorted when it comes through his car speakers. "If you're going to be with Shoko, you're going to have to learn to be a little less stiff. She appreciates flexibility."
The younger Sorcerer pinches the bridge of his nose while releasing a very slow exhale. He is not a temperamental man, but while the strongest was busy wooing some model, he had been acting as Ijichi's caretaker within the dormitories at Jujutsu Headquarters. In the last few hours, he has bought groceries, ministered medicine, cooked a large pot of chicken soup, and listened to some very incessant whining as snot leaked out of his friend's nose.
And just before the Gojo deigned to respond to his texts with a call, Nanami had escaped from the premises of the campus and was on his way back to Tokyo to start his preparations for the weekend when his tire caught on a random nail, thus making a rough night all the worse.
There hadn't even been a spare tire in his trunk, so now he's parked on the side of the road waiting for a tow truck.
"It's just one of those days," he thinks to himself while weighing how to respond to Gojo's insanity.
"Sorry, that was probably a bit uncomfortable for you," the buffoon bellows on, clearly aiming to rile the more rational Sorcerer up. "But you should know ahead of time that she will compare you to me. And really, how could she not? It's me."
Nanami's patience is steadily inching its way toward its limit, but he knows he must try to stay composed.
"You mentioned that the Special Grade was connected to Ms. Kelmendi's past," he mutters, forcing Gojo to stay on the current topic of discussion. "Explain that."
There's a short pause.
"I don't think I should."
"And why not?"
"It's a personal thing for Miharu," he explains, his voice somewhat muffled by a clacking of keys. "But if you really want to know, she'll probably be with me at the Christmas Party tomorrow night. You can ask her yourself…"
"Don't you think you're taking too many risks for a woman you just met?"
Another silence passes between the two men.
During that silence, Gojo reads over some sentences in his report for the higher-ups, backspaces to erase a few lines, then continues typing in fabricated details about the methodology he took in exorcising tonight's Special Grade.
…
Technically, Miharu was the one to exorcise it, but his aim is to keep her involvement hidden.
…
Nanami's question is a fair criticism. He is taking substantial risks on her behalf without knowing anything about Cosmos' final Domain Expansion. From his point of view, the Curse and Miharu simply blinked out of existence, leaving him alone to wait for the fallout.
…
She wasn't gone for long. Just five minutes.
…
A thorough examination of her person with his Six Eyes didn't reveal anything worrying. There was more of the Cursed Spirit's residual energy inside her body, but the general flow and pattern of that energy gave no indication that it had merged its soul with Miharu's or that she had become a vessel for the creature. Her behavior and general demeanor had remained the same as well. The only major change was a small enhancement to her physical strength, which was evidenced by the ease with which she handled the sword she could hardly lift before.
He has no doubt she'll tell him what happened when she's ready to speak on it, but the absence of information in the present is still bothersome, and even a little unnerving.
…
Having had some time to himself to reflect on their brief time together, Gojo has reasoned that Miharu does hold an unnatural amount of sway over him and speculates there's a deeper reason for this beyond the instantaneous emotional connection they forged within the Veil. After all, how likely is it that the Curse of her childhood, an entity that's been hiding for decades, would miraculously show up in Japan where she is today? More importantly, how likely is it that she, as a civilian with no awareness of Jujutsu, even though she can clearly see Cursed Spirits, would ever come across it on a seemingly average Friday night?
There are other oddities to consider as well, such as the two new managers assigned to monitor his progress on this mission by the higher-ups without a proper explanation.
…
At this point, all of it is too serendipitous to be believed.
…
Nanami is thinking the entire ordeal was a plan.
And, though he doesn't say it, Gojo agrees.
…
Their meeting today was planned.
But it wasn't Miharu's idea.
"Are you worried that I'll get my heart broken?" the strongest finally asks, switching from the document of his mission report to a set of e-mails containing the available case files from Ireland. "I didn't think you cared."
"I don't care about your romantic interests." Nanami drones, his irritation becoming more apparent as they talk. "But your decisions on such matters will affect the rest of us. You should proceed with more caution."
Gojo guides the cursor on his screen to click the printer icon on the e-mail's taskbar.
I've decided how I'll live my life. Now it's just a matter of doing the best I can to achieve that.
A bitter laugh drips past his lips.
"My choices aren't the only ones affecting others." Leaning back in his chair, Gojo drums his fingers along the armrests as he waits on the machine to spit out the files of interest. "The higher-ups have been sending children out to die for years, but no one likes to talk about that, right Nanami?"
Though Haibara's death goes unmentioned, the blonde man hears the callous accusation hidden beneath the cheeky delivery.
That's normal behavior for Satoru Gojo.
…
Nanami didn't pull any triggers, but his best friend did die on his watch. The guilt he felt from that incident was more than enough to force him out of the Jujutsu world. He only returned because, after some years, he realized there was more inherent value in taking down Curses than working as a stockbroker.
…
Suguru Geto had been a dangerous, insane Curse User.
…
But at one time he had also been an ally. A friend.
…
Defecting the way he did left a scar on all of them, but Gojo was the only one capable enough to become his Grim Reaper and he didn't act in a timely manner about it. Many of the higher-ups criticized him for his inaction, forgetting that Geto was still his best friend regardless of the crimes he committed. At eighteen, not a soul on Earth could have convinced him to play executioner.
However, when confronted with the call of destiny as a teacher with students depending on him for protection and guidance, he fulfilled that duty to eliminate the threat to their world and carries the blame for all the damage putting it off caused.
…
Nanami can't imagine the weight of his guilt at having taken Geto's life himself, necessary as it was.
…
Perhaps this woman he's enamored with is someone who understands that pain.
…
Grief…is its own curse. It pierces through hearts with sharp claws and mangled, crimson-stained teeth.
Understanding this, Nanami doesn't retaliate against Gojo's subtle cruelty. Instead, he simply points out the facts.
"If Ms. Kelmendi truly is a regular citizen…your involvement in her life will put a target on her back."
Gojo scatters the papers over his desk. Based on his current findings, she may have been a target long before now, but the point still stands regardless.
"Is she capable of withstanding that? Have you even considered what any of this might do to her psyche?"
The questions make the strongest Sorcerer freeze in his movements.
"And what if our enemies discover that she can bypass your Infinity? What happens to her then?"
In the short silence, Gojo adjusts his sunglasses over his eyes.
Because he's the strongest, no one ever wonders what might happen to him.
Everyone assumes he'll be fine.
Such a conclusion is fair and expected. After all, even if he could break, the option to do so simply isn't there.
…
"See Nanami, this is why I told you about it," Gojo says with false exuberance, placing the loose pages of the first incident with Cosmos into a folder. "You come up with all the important questions…"
"That you should have been asking before getting involved with Ms. Kelmendi."
If a contest was held to determine the strongest verbal assassin, Gojo thinks Nanami would be a top contender. His intelligence, blunt delivery, and no-nonsense nature would certainly provide a great challenge for him within a serious debate.
And, while the topic of their current discussion is a serious matter, now isn't the moment to bring up every detail of his brilliant conjectures or his current findings within the limited records the research division had on hand.
Truth be told, sharing the circumstances behind gaining a super-hot girlfriend was a calculated risk taken to assess the issue of the two unnecessary witnesses. Based on Nanami's intel, those managers are both newer recruits that Ijichi can handle easily enough should a problem arise. With that tiny threat squashed, his two former classmates are the only people aware of Miharu's deeper connection to him.
He'll introduce her properly to everyone else at the Christmas party tomorrow night, though not as his girlfriend this time.
Really. Nanami should give him more credit. He is not a thoughtless man. Obviously, keeping Miharu in his life is going to require an iron-clad line of defense, which will most likely build itself in record time with how charming and sweet she is.
…
However, the boring adult's input did provide a level of insight he really should have had earlier.
…
If you want to kill me, then kill me.
There would be a point to that.
…
There would have been a point to sending a Reversal Red through Miharu's heart too.
…
Choosing this path is going to cost him. Trusting her, trusting anyone is a gamble Gojo shouldn't take, but he's dealing with a very stubborn woman overestimating her ability to adjust and bounce back from tragedy.
…
Miharu needs peace.
…
Gojo knows he can't give her that. He knows cutting ties with her now is the best thing for her.
…
But he can't bring himself to pull the trigger again.
…
He's exhausted.
Not physically. Never physically.
Even with the small portion of Cursed Energy she involuntarily took from him, Satoru Gojo has plenty to spare. After all, he is the most efficient weapon Sorcerers have. In fact, their entire society hinges on his ability to perform optimally on every occasion, even when it calls him to commit the most agonizing acts imaginable.
…
The memory of Suguru's final breath is a constant condemnation screaming that he should have been the one to disappear.
Because if he wasn't the strongest, he would have.
…
For a split second inside the Veil, Gojo despised Miharu enough to want her dead…because the simple brush of her fingertips against his skin was a searing reminder of his humanity.
He alone is the honored one. No one should be able to touch him without his saying so, but one look into her eyes had dissolved his wrath.
…
She didn't see him as a weapon. She saw him as a man she could trust.
…
Gojo couldn't dismantle her simple belief in him, especially not after she molded her mouth to his and flung him through the sensations of his most vulnerable moment, re-contextualizing the dizzying euphoria of oblivion for the terror it truly was. He couldn't write off her physical affection as a manipulative tactic either, regardless of how fiercely he had wanted to, because she kissed him like she needed him to breathe.
…
His existence is the sole reason Cosmos was even able to tear her life asunder, yet she concerns herself with questions about what hurt him and fights to hide her more volatile emotions to shield a heart that has never been protected.
He's the one everyone else depends on for strength.
…
She's the first person to embrace the weaknesses he never acknowledged.
…
Allowing Reversal Red to fade from his trembling hand as she disappeared was an act of surrender.
…
At that instant, Miharu Kelmendi defeated him and claimed him as her prize.
He won't ever admit it out loud though, especially not while she's standing behind his bedroom door with her ear pressed to the wood like a little child.
Forget that he has Six Eyes and can sense that she's been standing there for at least three minutes. He doesn't need to rely on his super-powered eyes when he can hear her quietly chastising Tuna to not purr so loudly.
"Puuuuuuuuuuuur…"
"Shhh. Be quiet. I'm trying to hear what he'll say next."
With no talent in the art of stealth, she could never be the mastermind behind any nefarious schemes. Furthermore, Gojo considers her victory over him a fluke of emotional resonance that persists even now.
In summation, he's totally whipped and has no plans to end this rapid, downward spiral of a relationship.
But…
"You're right," he says, finally acknowledging Nanami's point as he swivels his rolling chair to face the door. "I should consider what she wants. Isn't that right, honey?"
At the sound of her tiny yelp, Gojo laughs boisterously.
But within his car along the outskirts of Tokyo, Nanami feels as if a blood vessel is going to burst in his skull.
"What is she doing in your apartment!?"
"Spending the night. What else?"
"SHE BYPASSES THE ABILITY THAT PREVENTS ANYTHING FROM TOUCHING YOU! HOW IS IT A GOOD IDEA TO LET THAT INTO YOUR LIVING SPACE!? ARE YOU INSANE!? YOU JUST MET HER!"
Ignoring the enraged exclamations from the other Sorcerer, Gojo watches Miharu push the door open. He notices the white towel holding up her hair first, followed by the gold under-eye moisturizer patches beneath her eyes, and then…
"I…heard your voice from the kitchen," she mumbles, trying to look at everything in his room but him as she approaches his desk with a steaming black mug in her hands. "Thought you might like some tea."
"He doesn't deserve tea! He doesn't deserve anything!"
Gojo barely hears Nanami's words blaring out from his phone. From behind the lenses of his sunglasses, he takes a moment to fully appreciate the shape of Miharu's body hidden beneath the white, long-sleeved T-shirt he used to wear frequently during the cold winters at Jujutsu Tech.
The loose fabric hangs a few inches above her knees, giving him a perfect view of her long legs.
But as tantalizing as that view is, he's more enraptured by the fading storm hidden in her eyes.
The look stirs up a memory.
"A friend of yours?" she asks him, setting the porcelain mug in front of him while Tuna scurries around her sock covered feet.
"Colleagues," Nanami answers tersely, though he's quick to soften his tone. "My…apologies for my prior outburst. My name is…"
With an unceremonious press of his finger against the "End Call" button, Gojo cuts off the introductions before they can start. Miharu blinks once in confusion at this action but doesn't comment on it as he reaches for the offered drink.
"I didn't mean to interrupt," she whispers when he doesn't speak. "Or to eavesdrop."
He raises an eyebrow.
"Fine. I may have meant to eavesdrop a little. Happy?"
He blows on the hot liquid a few times then smirks at her from over the rim.
"Not poisoning me, are you?"
Before she can respond to his remark, he takes a generous sip to show that he meant what he said about trusting her. The soft smile she gives him in response to his silent reassurance adds to the pleasant flavor of peppermint on his tongue.
"Mhmm," he murmurs in satisfaction when he sits the cup back down. "Best poison I've ever tasted. Your own recipe?"
He ignores the silent notification of Nanami's call on his screen.
"My mother's actually," Miharu answers, her gaze drifting to his computer monitor. "Though it would have tasted better if I had used actual tea leaves instead of the synthetic stuff you had in the cabinet."
"Either way it's good. Thank you."
"Sure. Anytime."
There's a short lull in the conversation as she absentmindedly walks around his room, examining every nook in cranny like she's a detective. As she sets about this little adventure, he reads through his mission report again to check for any loose ends he might have missed. Once satisfied with what he has, he e-mails the final draft of the report to Yaga.
"Did you need something, babe?"
"Please don't call me that," she drones, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. "And yes. I need the Wi-Fi password."
"For?"
"To watch Netflix."
"Instead of sleeping?" he questions, scrolling through another e-mail while ignoring Nanami's fifth attempt to call him back. "Why? Worried you'll have nightmares?"
…
"I am. Cosmos warned me that her memories might manifest in my dreams."
…
It's the first nugget of information she's presented him since her return from the Curse's domain.
…
"The Wi-Fi password is 'strongest' in all caps."
Miharu chuckles at this.
"You sure do have an ego on you, huh?"
He shrugs, his smirk fading into a more neutral expression while waiting for her to say more about her experience inside Cosmos' Domain, but she doesn't offer anything beyond another quiet reprimand to Tuna when he starts swatting at her feet.
"What are you going to watch on Netflix?" he asks after some minutes have passed.
She yawns and the demon cat scurries out of the room to wreak havoc somewhere else in the apartment.
"Don't know. Any suggestions?"
Gojo stretches his arms above his head. "How about Sleepless in Seattle?"
"Ha!" With another yawn she stands back up to pace through his room again. Eventually, she ventures over to the grey bookshelf he has positioned in the corner of the room. "Maybe I should read something instead. You have quite a collection here."
"Take whatever interests you," he tells her, scanning another case file. "But Miharu…"
"Hmm?"
"You really should try to get some sleep."
…
Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Miharu releases a shaky exhale.
"Y-yeah. I should. I really should."
A heavy silence fills the room then, interrupted only by the hum of the printer.
Gojo swivels in his chair to face her again after a moment. At his movement, she turns away from the bookshelf and once she's looking at him he wordlessly motions for her to come to him.
She responds to the summons, but her expression hints at some suspicion towards his intent.
"What is it?"
He taps his fingers against his thigh once she's standing directly in front of him.
"Have a seat," he orders, a playful lilt to his voice. "I want to talk to you about something."
"And I need to be in your lap for this discussion because…"
"It's an important element for the things I need to say," he explains, wagging a finger at her. "Don't worry. I'm not trying to seduce you…yet."
Though not entirely convinced, Miharu eases herself into his lap. She tries to keep her arms crossed in front of her chest since she's a little cold, and upon noticing this, Gojo carefully loops her left arm over his shoulders while winding his right arm around her waist to pull their bodies closer together.
When he sees her blushing, he knows she isn't cold anymore.
"Comfy?"
She doesn't respond right away, choosing instead to traces light circles against the fabric of his black sweatshirt, taking extra care not to touch his chest.
"I'm wondering when you're going to ask me what I want for Christmas, Santa Claus."
"Oh no," he exclaims softly, a hint of laughter on his tongue when lifts his hand to remove moisturizer patches beneath her eyes. "You've uncovered my secret identity! Don't tell the kids! It'll ruin the magic for them! They expect a plump, old elf, but as you can see, I am neither plump nor old. I'm just a devastatingly handsome bachelor. I don't even have reindeer! "
Miharu is giggling senselessly by the time he's finished talking.
"I'm trying to imagine you with a white beard and a bowl full of jelly." She lightly pokes the firm muscles of his abdomen to emphasize her point. "With all the sweets you've stolen from me, you should have a gut the size of Antarctica. Hahahahaha!"
Gojo takes the towel out of her hair while she yammers on for another minute. She's exhausted to the point of delirium now, which is a good indicator that she'll pass out as soon as she's relaxed.
But before that…
…
He tosses the towel to the floor, then weaves his fingers through the loose, damp strands of her hair. Miharu's laughter immediately lulls, her gaze softening as she reaches for his sunglasses. He keeps still while she maneuvers them away from his face.
"So what was this important thing you needed to talk about?"
He watches her place the sunglasses next to the mug of peppermint tea.
…
"I'm sorry, Miharu."
Her serene expression transforms to one of confusion.
"For making me sit on your lap?" she asks hesitantly, her eyes on her legs dangling over the floor "Cause now that I'm here, I kinda like it."
A humorless chuckle slips out of his mouth.
"No. I'm…giving you my condolences for your loss."
…
Miharu doesn't know how to respond to those words, so she goes back to drawing aimless circles on his chest until he takes hold of her hand.
"I also want to take this moment to ask if this is what you want," he continues, interlacing their fingers. "Because I can't guarantee…a clean break from me after tonight."
"Meaning?"
"The longer we stay together, the harder it'll be for you to run away."
...
Miharu takes a long moment to consider his words. With no concept of what his life is like on a day to day basis, she isn't happy with the idea of there not being an escape route somewhere, even if she doesn't choose to take it.
However, upon meeting his gaze, she vividly recalls a promise of hope bathed in moonlight.
She doesn't have to pretend to have courage anymore.
Because finally...after all these years...
…
"I don't need that option anymore," she murmurs, squeezing his hand. "You'll protect me from now on, right?"
His face draws closer to hers.
"Of course. So long as I'm compensated properly for my efforts."
The light pressure of his lips along her jawline seals his part of their agreement, but what of her part? What can she offer someone like him?
She's too exhausted to find any of those answers tonight, but she'll find them. She knows innately that Gojo has his fair share of demons to combat, with or without hers in the mix.
If nothing else, she wants to make sure he doesn't have to fight them alone anymore.
"Rest now, Miharu Kelmendi," he purrs into her skin. "We have a long journey ahead of us."
Closing her eyes, she sinks into his embrace and lets the steady beating of his heart lull her into a deep sleep.
She dreams of his visage cast in the azure glimmer of the moon with a new understanding of why she survived that horrible night eleven years ago.
Even back then, his strength coaxed her to keep breathing.
A/N: This chapter wasn't as difficult to write as the previous one, but it was much heavier. I'm happy to say that, as the author of this madness, I have a firm understanding of why these two are as enraptured with each other as they are...because last chapter I was basically Nanami. I was writing it and it made no sense to me, but now it does. That'll help us moving forward. Also, I hope Nanami was mostly in character here. He's a tough one for me to get a grasp on, so let me know if I need to adjust him a bit moving forward, cause he will be back. And hopefully the next chapter will be more lighthearted. The romance may not be a slow-burn but the plot sure is! Anyway, thank you all very much for reading. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Best wishes and God bless you all! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays too...cause things are getting busy on my end.
Also, if at any point you guys get antsy waiting for updates on this story, feel free to check out my other stories on my profile if you like my insanity. This may be my only JJK work as of now, but I got plenty of other works based on anime and games like Code Geass, Death Note, Fate/Stay Night, Sailor Moon, Yu-Gi-Oh, NieR: Automata, Final Fantasy 16, Kingdom Hearts, and many more. That's all for now. See you guys next time!