Ghost || Jujutsu Kaisen

『 17: Seasons 』

It felt strange. Why was it now of all times would this memory resurface? After being so insignificant all these years... why choose to make an appearance now when his head was already so preoccupied with so many more other important things that demanded his undivided attention?

Why?

Inumaki vaguely remembers hearing one of the older servant girls in his estate talking about it during the rare days he had visited his home after beginning to study at the Jujutsu Institute. She talked about confessing—which was not an uncommon occurrence at all—to a person Inumaki could only assume was the person she had loved for quite some time. Admission was not on the list of the things he had found strange that day, as a matter of fact, he had seen it happen more than he would like to admit, but they were not declarations of affection.

They were confessions of sins. Confessions of wrongdoings, who had done what, who did they work for—all evoked by the power of his curse. Inumaki was no stranger to revelations, his Clan generously made sure of that. All that ever stood before Inumaki had no eagerness to follow which had him force them into submission. What caught his attention that day, however, was the servant girl's willingness to let her feelings be delivered. Why? He remembered asking himself, going as far as to stay a little longer to hear her reason.

Inumaki didn't understand. Why tell someone something...

"I'm sorry, Kiyu..."

... when you know they won't feel the same. "I'm already in love with someone else."

It was foolish and Inumaki was a step away from concluding that it was— "Ah..." but the servant girl laughed, as though she was relieved to have been turned down, "I knew." Foolish, indeed. Then, why?!

Later that evening as he was preparing for slumber, a faint distorted breathing could be heard from the other side of the shoji panels leading to the gardens. Fearing that a curse had entered the premises, he slowly approached the dividers, sliding them open just enough for his eyes to assess the strength of the intruder—only to be met with the same servant girl, but this time, she was crouched in a fetal position in the middle of the engawa. Did she not know that this was his part of the estate? Inumaki could very much reprimand her for her shamelessness, punish her for her insolence, who did she think she was, crying so vehemently outside of his room?

But he remained as still as a statue in his position. Nothing but a sliver of moonlight highlighting the familiarity that glinted in the depths of his eyes.

He recognized what she was doing, the position she had taken, her reasons for doing so... because he had once been in that same situation, many, many moons ago. To have your heart be so physically crushed it made it difficult to breathe, to choke from your own intakes of air, claw at anything hoping it would ease the pain, hold your mouth shut to prevent any noise from escaping... desperately wanting to hold it all together because everything was uncontrollably falling apart.

The older woman spoke no words, all that remained was the sadness echoing between the heartbroken woman and the boy hiding behind the shoji screen. Basked by the light of the silver moon, everything was made clear in that stillness.

Even if it would hurt, you would tell them... not out of hope that they'd return your feelings, but simply because they deserved to know.

She loved him, even if she knew he could never love her back. That was fine with the servant girl, or so it seemed a few moments ago... love extended beyond reciprocity but even still, knowing that... wouldn't make it hurt any less.

Would he suffer the same way?

The pain of rejection could be numbed with time, but regret would paint your eyes with a hue that would never fade.