CELESTIAL FLOWERS ( s. gojo )

arc ii. ━ chapter iii. luminosity

a r c  ii.
❝ is this the price of your loyalty? is this the price of your love? ❞
━━ chapter iii. luminosity

KAZUKO SEES GOJO. The soft glow from the lantern lights his face and she can see him, his bare face and the smidges of blood on the walls outside the room. She hears more noises, hushed at first, but ultimately rising to a shrill crescendo. Kazuko would have asked what was happening, but she was too stunned by the sight of the figure before her.

"Can you stand up?" he asks and she tries to open her mouth, but no sound escapes. Again. Again. But only a hoarse noise leaves and she shakes her head instead.

The chains tying her to the floor jangle as she tries to muster a single movement in her body. She glares at the chains. They're so short that the most she can do is sit. Kazuko indicates the chains and Gojo removes them in mere seconds, his hands moving towards her wrists and even over the sleeves, the touch of an actual person makes the cut sting and she hisses, backing away in pain.

Gojo's eyes are curious and the sleeves of her kimono slide a little to reveal the constellations of clean incisions and faded bruises that adorned her once unsullied body.

"What happened?" he asks. Was that softness that she detected in his voice? No, of course not. The torture had gotten into her head and made her delusional.

She wanted to say it was nothing. Or other words that would convey she was doing just fine. But was it really nothing when her entire body ached and blood flowed from the yet to heal wounds? Was she doing just fine when she scampered away from the touch of a human being? Or when she closed her eyes and heard her own screams, the jangle of metal chains and the hushed sound of metal trailing across her skin? Was that nothing? Was that fine?

Kazuko looks down. She can't— won't let anyone see the despair flashing across her features. Not now. Not ever. Not even Eri would see. Especially Eri.

"E... ri... Eri... Erisu...?" she whispers, willing herself to speak. The effort makes her throat ache, like a thousand needles were cascading down its flesh walls. "W—Where...?"

His eyes are still pinned on the minuscule amount of skin shown on her wrists, following the trail of red to the palms she's clenched and discreetly tried to place behind her back. The stare makes her conscious of her disheveled appearance, makes her feel small and uncomfortable. How horrible did it look? There were no mirrors in the room and the only times she could view her reflection were when she took a bath and the rippling water revealed her sorry state. Was the pain as bad as the state of her skin?

No. That wasn't important now. What if they realized that she wasn't Erisu and now they've captured her lady and Gojo was her for rescue? "Go... Go... jo... san..." she tried to speak, her eyes pleading. "Eri... su... w—where...?"

His eyes narrow, a flash of irritation. Why? Kazuko's brows furrowed in response. Why was he irritated? Was she being obnoxious? Was it her slurring words or the raspy tone? Both? Once again, Kazuko tries to speak, but she ends up coughing and falling face first into the floor. She braces for impact, but Gojo grabs her by the shoulder sleeve. He helps steady her. How troublesome, she chides herself. What if Erisu was here and she was delaying Gojo?

"You— you..." Another cough escapes her lips, but this time, she steadies herself alone. Kazuko will not be a burden. "Leave me..."

Kazuko breathes. "Leave me," she whispers even when the thought of being alone in the dark scared her. Even when her hands trembled as she clutched the cloth of his shirt, the pain from her palms worsening. Please please please don't leave me alone. I'm terrified. No no no no. She can't be terrified. She isn't supposed to feel anything resembling fear. She can't get in other people's way. You have to die if you must, you're a tool. This is not your life to fight for, not yours to treasure. "I'll be fine now... I'm... fine..."

"Erisu's safe in the guesthouse," Gojo answers and just like that Kazuko can breathe again. A glass lid on her throat now shattered into a thousand fragments letting carbon dioxide and oxygen exhange in the caverns of her lungs.

After days, weeks, an entire month in this torturous confinement, she manages to smile. It's like a blanket of comfort has been draped over her entire figure, numbing the pain and driving away the shadows that tried to make its way towards her. The tears she thought had long dried began pouring, one streaking after another like falling stars.

"I'm glad... Thank you... I'm so... glad..."

Gojo looks down at her. Even when he's crouching, he towers over her easily. She can't read him. There are moments when she feels like she can reach a semblance of understanding with him, but he does something so unexpected that it shatters the illusion.

"I've decided," he said, his tone ominous. But Kazuko is not scared for herself. No. The terror is directed not towards her, but them. The cultists. "That the most effective way to protect Erisu is to kill them all."

Kazuko blinks. All of them? One two three four five six seven... all of them. Something sings in her blood, a melody of wickedness. They deserved it. For doing this to her. For thinking of doing this to Erisu. All those sleepless nights and anxieties. He turns to her. "Any problems with that?"

Uneasiness blooms, pollens scattering and reaching her face, blossoming in furrowed brows and trembling lips. They were idiots, they were delusional. Surely there was something wrong with their heads, but to kill them all? She hates them so much, her heart throbs with so much anger and if her fury for them could be fire she'd burned the entirety of this place to the ground. And yet... a life was a life. The thought of people dying. She hesitates, looks up at him with uncertain eyes. "They're horrible people, but—"

Her retort is cut short when he places a finger in front of her lips. The finger is cold. Everything about Gojo Satoru is cold, she realizes, from his icy eyes to his hands and his gaze. Chilling. A grin is plastered on his face but it's not like the grins he usually gives, the airy ones that trigger her annoyance. This one is malevolent, inhumane. It feels real unlike the artificial ones he used to hold up his facade. He retracts his finger and puts a hand on top of her head.

Kazuko manages to speak: "Gojo-san!"

"You don't need to worry anymore," he says, resolute. People are going to die. Kazuko's conscience screams at her, stop him stop him stop him. (This boy is a god, what can a weakling like you do?) How contradictory. To call him a boy and then call him a god. "Everything will be fine."

His hands move to the top of her head as if patting it. Was that something for comfort? Nevertheless, it spares her the agony of conflicting moralities. Exhaustion claims all the cells in her body and Kazuko sees darkness again.

━━ to be continued.
|| we're halfway through this depressing arc yay! it only goes downhill from here :D
|| i'm curious, who are you guys' faves in the entire show?
|| mine is yuuji, nobara, megumi (the main trio lol. i love the three of them so much ;.; ), utahime and gojo, unfortunately...
|| anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter and as always, don't hesitate to tell me what you think ♡