三七



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Sky-blue eyes held concern as they peered down at the Shinigami woman, kneeling down before her on the grass to stroke the side of her tattered face. The blood staining her perfect skin, and her usually neat clothes told him a story that he almost didn't want to hear. He was used to seeing her tattered and bruised, but there was something about her current appearance that triggered something inside of him. She looked frail and withered; the bags under her eyes had darkened and he wouldn't be surprised if this was her first resting period in days. The way in which her pulse was barely there had him constantly checking for a heartbeat; a noise that brought the sweetest yet small smile to his face.

"I missed you." An unheard whisper, accompanied by a tear dangling from his white lashes that refused to stay within the comfort of his eyelids. He wouldn't cry, whether she was sleeping or not. With the current mess of a situation, he had to be strong for everyone, and Gojo Satoru would carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if it meant he had to.

The words he previously uttered were but a sad and pleading expression of his endless solitude; words that he had recited millions of times during the breadth of their twisted fates. Yet, whilst locked away in the prison realm, which had felt like a millennia for him, one person alone occupied his thoughts. Would she be safe? Would she be able to keep the promise she had made to him?

It seemed as though she had failed on some front, given the current situation with Megumi. After hearing a quick, yet animated rundown from Itadori, Satoru had gathered that there had been a drastic change in Yachiru's demeanour. Apparently, she had turned cold on both him and Megumi; and seemed to think that they weren't taking his confinement seriously enough. Itadori had described how pained Yachiru looked, and even felt; her spiritual energy had been dreary and cold, until her moments of anger when the room would once again become a furnace. Gojo chuckled at this idea.

Yet, that wasn't to say he liked it. She deserved to be happy; and for once, he regretted ever meeting her. He regretted being so kind to the Shinigami child that appeared on his family's estate. He wondered, for a moment, if she would be happy right now, had he not been involved in her life. He thought that maybe, had they not met, she would be living whatever the standard was for Shinigami life at the moment.

But then he remembered something important about the woman in his arms; she was fierce, a rule breaker who had crawled her way back to the land of the living time and time again. And it was at this moment he knew, she wouldn't have it any other way. He had come to know Yachiru like the back of his hand; his other half, his soul mate.

Which is why he didn't like the sight before him. She didn't look peaceful; he knew the face of the woman he had spent countless nights sleeping aside, and this wilting countenance was not one he had seen before. The discomfort in her face told him he had caused her great misery over the past nineteen days.

He scooped her up in his arms, she had lost weight. She stirred in his arms defensively, pushing against him in her slumber as though she was guarding herself, even in her sleep.

Secretly, he hoped she would wake up.

"Shh... It's okay, it's me... It's Sacchan!" He said, stroking her dark locks back and protectively placing a hand at the back of her head. Yachiru quickly settled; her subconscious recognising that he was with her; and he was safe. With his other arm hooked under her legs, he began to carry her back to the make-shift base the team had put together.

He resolved to have a conversation with her; even if she wouldn't respond.

"I can't believe you would go so far for someone like me." He began, chastising himself as he reached around the back of her knees to push his hair back. "Kurotsuki Yachiru, how did you do it?" He asked, this time with a hint of humility to his boast. "I remember once telling you I'd take care of you, only for you to laugh at me and say it'd be rotten work. Yet, all I could think was: not to me, not if it was you. I wish I had told you that."

He continued, "Sometimes, I have kept my feelings to myself; it's hard for me to constantly tell you that I love you, because my love for you is higher than that - so I resolved to stay silent." He regretted not telling her as much. He felt remorse for not telling her each time he saw her - how much he loved her, how precious she was to him - and how he would move mountains just to see her smile. "Although, when we talk, intimacy covers every aspect of our voices. A simple Hey sounds like Come here... I know you feel the same. I see the way your cheeks get pink whenever we talk, regardless of how much time we spent together. By the way, I did go back and kill all the old guys back at Jujutsu HQ! You would have been so proud of me." He beamed, a brief interlude for what was to come. But then, he felt guilt - as he regretted not finding Yachiru as soon as possible.

Satoru's thought's regarding his love for Yachiru were devolving into a technicolour yawn of sorts - yet, there were still things that had been left unsaid.

"During those years that you were absent, others may have forgotten about you. It wasn't so easy for me; I was haunted by your ghost, praying to the God's that you would once again phase through a wall like you did when we were teenagers." He chuckled at the fond memory, his eyes gazing up to the waxing moon above them.

"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" He angled her sleeping face towards the faraway planetary satellite, knowing that had she been awake, she too would appreciate its beauty. It was at this moment, that he inwardly begged she would wake up. That they could talk, as he knew that when he returned, he would have to leave again.

"It's okay." He consoled himself, continuing on the path. "The least I can do is give myself to you in your dreams, whispering these confessions in hope that they will reach you."

It took around twenty minutes for Satoru to reach their base, and his constant babbling had not ceased the entire journey. He wanted her to know how much she meant to him; that he wasn't angry at her, and more than anything; that he loved her.

"One more thing." He paused outside the barrier. "When my time comes, and they lay my body to rest; I want you to remember one thing, Yachiru. Can you do that?" He looked at her whilst speaking, understanding that she remained unresponsive. "Remember that no grave can hold me down. I'll crawl out of the dirt and home to you. Until my heart stops beating, only then perhaps will I stop loving you."

"Perhaps."

The commotion in the room expanded tenfold as Satoru appeared with the disheveled Yachiru. Shoko was straight at their side, commanding him to lay her out on one of the hospital beds on the outskirts of the base.

The unfamiliar faces didn't understand the disturbance, and continued plotting the next moves amongst themselves.

Satoru, on the other hand, did not want to be disturbed unless absolutely necessary. He sat by her side, day and night, begging that she would wake up before he would have to leave to meet with Utahime and that old man Gakuganji.

Time was of the essence. He took a piece of paper and a pen from the side, scribbling down as many details as possible regarding his absence - he needed her to know that he had been there; that he was okay, and that they would soon be reunited.

Everything would go back to normal.

He pushed the note into the overgarments of her Shinigami uniform - which Shoko had taken the liberty of washing. In what would be a usually quick and easy process, his hand swatted against something sharp, cold, and sticky - but before he could identify the object Shoko interjected.

"Don't touch that." She said sternly, watching as Satoru raised his hand to see the imprint of dark, drying blood. "It's not a cursed object. There's nothing in our literature that describes what it could be. Itadori has an idea, but said Megumi had a better grasp when Yachiru was explaining it to them."

At the sound of his name, the young boy's ears pricked up. "Yes! Yachiru travelled to Jigoku to retrieve that knife looking thing. Something about it being able to reject and incapacitate any type of sorcery." He said simply, not quite understanding the gravity of his words. "She did it for you, Gojo-Sensei! She wanted to find the spirit realm and stab it to pieces, and watch you pop out!"

Satoru turned around, facing away from the group as the tears once again threatened to surface. He leapt over to Yachiru, encasing her in his arms and fervently kissing her on the lips.

"Gojo?! What are you doing? Be careful. She's been asleep for a whole day, she needs to recover properly and you're not helping." She yelled, walking over to pull the white haired man away.

He violently swatted Shoko away, not at all sorry for any unintended force. "KUROTSUKI YACHIRU... I LOVE YOU."

It was not a comedic yell, or shout of sorts. It was a scream - a desperate plea for her to know that no matter what happens - he loves, and would continue to love her no matter what the future held.

The awkward silence in the room was thick, as both familiar and unfamiliar eyes watched the grown man - known as the greatest sorcerer on earth - practically break down over a woman.

However, for those who knew her, and for those who knew them; they understood. The students looked saddened, almost pitying Gojo's current state.

Shoko stepped in once again. "It's time for you to meet with Utahime and the old man. Do you have everything you need?" She asked, not even expecting an apology from the earlier treatment she received.

"I'm good now." He said, cooly standing up as if his previous antics hadn't caused a stir.

As they wished him good luck and said his goodbyes, Gojo Satoru would once again disappear.

And this time, he wasn't so sure if he would return.

A/N

Sorry! This one is a little shorter hehe.