A Hymn for salvation (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

Daisy

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Daisy of the heavens

In Hanakotoba the Japanese form of the language of flowers, Daisy symbolizes Faith.

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"How have you been?" He asks.

He thought he knew how this would play out, memorizing the scripts for all the worst case scenarios that he had made in his head while walking to the temple. He counts them in his fingers: one is when the mikos would stop him from going further; two is when the priest calls the elders; and three is when the elders get involved. Yet in his heart, deeply in these trembling bones, he knew the worst would only be his beloved (y/n) turning him away with hatred and disgust, in those (e/c) eyes that once brightened with even the thought of him.

"I've been well, how about you?" You answer with a smile.

You knew even before he reached the gardens, the mikos whisper of the prodigal son's return. They welcome him with open arms, because the goddess loves even the damned and pardons those who repent, your love is immense and this heart knows no hate. You note how tall he has become, despite the young age of 16, gone are the childish features he once held and there stood before you was a growing man, renowned through the shaman world.

Satoru gulps, he doesn't know what to answer, "I've been well, too, what have you been up to all these years?"

He didn't know if he was dreaming. If in reality he was still in bed, asleep and dreading the visit the way he did that afternoon before everything came crashing down for you and him. Everything he had ever thought, every scenario that he had come up with never happened, like a sweet dream. Instead, the mikos graciously invited him and led him to the garden where (y/n) was having tea; they served him a cup and served him desserts, daifuku. The head priest never came running through the halls to scorn him, nor any one of the elders came present to over watch this interaction. Then there's (y/n), who smile and talk to him like he had never been gone at all.

If he was to confess his sins at this moment, he would say that this scenario felt more like a worse nightmare, than her turning him away. He could feel the bile rise up to his throat and the shortness of breath, that he masked with his annoyingly fake laughs and sips of this tasteless tea. He didn't know what he wanted, and even that was a lie.
Dee[ down, he knew he wanted to be punished for the transgressions he made to you, being openly accepted just doesn't sit right in his heart.

"I've finally started learning how to manage a part of the church. Only so I can better take care of my beloved acolytes." You look at the six mikos that stood, ready at your command, to smile and wave at them softly. You hope with all your might that he doesn't see the way you itch to run away from this awkward situation; that deep in your heart there is a festering hatred that boils only for the very man who sits in front of you. "And you?"

"I perfected my technique and is branded as the strongest shaman." He wanted to say sorry, beg on his knees and clasp his hands for forgiveness, like all the dirty sinners and devotees that have come before you. Yet he does not move, rather he looks down on the tea, staring at his reflection with a smile on a face that he couldn't even recognize. Is this really Gojo Satoru? He wonders with disgust, because he loathes it with his every being.

"I see, so I guess everything's good for you then?"
"Yes. It looks the same for you, did you get what you wished for?"

The silence continues, both parties fully aware that there was nothing more that they can talk about. What separated them wasn't merely a table filled with pastries and tea, neither the mikos who listen to their every breath. Rather, it is the years of separation from his very own sins of trying to abandon her, breaking promise after promise and pilling up transgressions then running away from it. He had made her a past that he buried six feet under, out of crushing guilt and yet here he is the way he was 3 years ago; still loving you with all his heart.