Mirror Eyes & Bright Blue Skies | Jujutsu Kaisen

ⅩⅩⅠⅤ. And the World Keeps Turning

Gojo walked into the training room, hopeful, though he knew he'd find it just as empty as he'd found it yesterday, the day before that, and really every day since the funeral.

"She left before 6 a.m. today. Hasn't been back since."

Gojo turned to see Maki standing behind him, leaning against the doorframe.

"Again?" he asked.

"Again."

"And not a word as to where she's gone?"

Maki frowned, "No. She barely talks to me anymore."

The white-haired man sighed. When was the last time Ikuko had spoken to him properly? To anyone properly? She smiled when greeted, maybe nodded or said hello back, but her lips were always thin, tight, the corners barely upturned. The warmth, curiosity, and enthusiasm that used to lace her voice were likewise replaced with a raspy monotone that rarely rose above a whisper.

Just the other night, Gojo had caught Ikuko sneaking back in after one of her secret excursions. She was bruised at her cheekbone, a few cuts and scrapes littering the rest of her exposed skin, but what had stood out the most to Gojo was how gaunt she looked. A pair of jeans that once hugged her nicely now looked two sizes too big, baggy, held up only by a belt. When was the last time he'd seen her eat?

Ikuko had, of course, insisted that she was fine.

"Okay, Ms. 'I'm fine'," he'd said, taking her by the shoulders and steering her toward the kitchen, "I, however, am not fine. I'm hungry, but everyone knows you can't eat a midnight snack by yourself, so you're just gonna have to accompany me."

No sooner had Ikuko finished nibbling on the crackers Gojo had coaxed into her hands then she had bid him a hasty good night and tried to slink back to her room.

He'd stood, catching her wrist between his fingers, feeling her pulse thrum sluggishly against the pad of his thumb, "Now, now, what's the rush, Iku-chan? Can't stand to look at my beautiful face for too long?" He'd tilted his head, a 1000-watt smile on his face as he looked down into her eyes.

Ikuko had stared back coldly, without reply, until finally yanking her wrist from Gojo's grasp and leaving him to stand alone in the kitchen, his insides twisting with something like helplessness.

"I'm worried, Gojo-sensei," Maki said, bringing Gojo back to the present, "Every time she comes back from wherever it is she's going, she's got more and more scratches on her. Her chin was all messed up last night."

Gojo walked over to where the black-haired girl stood and ruffled her hair, much to Maki's disdain, "I'm worried too," he said, a pained smile twisting his lips, "But don't you worry for long! Your amazingly awesome sensei is already on the case."

"You know what she's been up to, don't you?" Maki accused, her familiar glare scrunching the corners of her eyes. But it soon deflated with a sigh and a swipe of a hand over her face. The black-haired girl looked off to the side, "It's not good, is it?"

"I thought she just needed time and a little space to recover..."

"But she's not recovering. She's deteriorating."

"...Correct."

Maki turned back toward Gojo, giving him a long look before saying, "Well, what are you waiting for? Go get her before there's nothing left of her to get."

"Hmm," Gojo tapped his chin thoughtfully, "But what if I don't know what to say yet? I've only got the first draft right now, perhaps tomorrow..."

Maki rolled her eyes, "Like hell. When have you ever thought before you spoke? Just go already."