𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡 // 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

chapter 5

mentions or descriptions of; abuse, manga spoilers

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

It was quite evident that the man had not slept yet, thought Rei, seeing the ruffled nest of a hair that Satoru adorned on his head. Eye bags were darker than average, and a shadow had cast from his hair over his eyes, hiding the focal point of eye contact that Rei wanted to initiate. Shoulders were hunched, hands folded together in front of his mouth and his large white shirt crowned his collarbones.

Leaning up from her curled position, it seemed that he was also in his own little world as her ruffling of positions passed right through him. A yawn passed through her lips– she had been pretty comfortable in the corner of the sofa. Arching her back slightly, she stretched and saw her clothes folded neatly in front of her. Her eyes narrowed, and Rei took the chance to really take in her surroundings.

Surprisingly, everything was tidy. Neat. There wasn't really any true decoration, no pictures on the walls showcasing any fond childhood memories, no plants or small flowers to spice up the living space. The mahogany of the coffee table in front of the sofa was varnished a dark reddish-brown, and nothing but a clean ashtray rested upon it. The dimmed light above her painted the room in a dark, warm amber glow and the screen that played a quiet show rested upon a dusty credenza. Yes, everything was neat. No empty cups laying around, no paperwork. There was no clothes that had been left around haphazardly, no extra blankets or cushions, and Rei briefly wondered if the other rooms were the same. Yes, everything was neat. Too neat. Bland.

It could, she supposes, be taken as stylishly minimalistic. But she had seen this before with her good friend, Hatake Kakashi. When he had overworked himself almost to the point of no return, when he had destroyed his well-being and mental health, when he was just an empty machine. Silent. Deadly. Trained to kill with no hesitation.

The apartment was hardly lived in.

But who was she to judge? She had once been the exact same.

Yes. Everything was neat. And she wasn't going to point that out.

"What time is it?" She purposely lowers her voice to be groggy, pretending as if she just woke up. It's almost comical how fast Satoru snaps his head up towards her, eyes wide and loud with something familiar she couldn't place. But wow. Wow. His eyes were absolutely gorgeous.

"Uh, it's about three am." That something in his eyes didn't disappear, not even when he glanced away to look at the clock that rested above the front door. He stood quietly, surprising Rei with the level of elegance and gracefulness that the man showcased. Look closer, Rei.

She doesn't know why the urge came, but Rei started to analyse him. It was such a simple move, but he moved with such dignified movements that it had seemed... wrong. It didn't match his personality, no, not his playful outlandish nature that he embodied to his students. His shoulders were lax with a posture beaten inside of someone at the age of two, head raised with the confidence of one that constantly had their ego fuelled with worship and idolisation. Face moulded into one of nothingness, giving away not a single trickle of hints or clues for what cascades through his mind. And oh. Oh.

It wasn't like she figured out his whole life story, not like she suddenly mastered the art of Gojo Satoru. But if she had to describe it with a word she would choose empathy.

She understands the calculated movements. The façade he bears. The crazed storm in his eyes.

She knows.