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2: docile

2: docile

Okkotsu Yuuta lied on his bed, wearing an absentminded look as he stared at the ceiling. At the palm of his hand laid a phone displaying a social media app showing the profile of a certain person he hadn't contacted in three years.

Yua Shihori, Yuuta whispered under his breath.

Seconds later, he finally shut off his phone.

He was too embarrassed to call out this person after going MIA. The last time they talked, he had just turned thirteen years old. Due to some... personal circumstances, he had lost Yua Shihori's phone number and had never been in contact since.

"... I wonder if he still knows me."

Back then, it was because of that person why he was able to hold on. During the times they've talked over the phone, that heavy pressure weighing down on his heart would lighten even if it was just for a bit.

Yua Shihori would speak to him softly, often talking about his own childhood so that Yuuta would think of them. These past few years, he managed to get through each day by recalling Yua Shihori's stories.

The youth hugged the pillow tighter, burying half of his face into it as his eyes grew teary.

.

.

"My beloved Shi-ho-ri! It's been a while!"

"Fuck, don't call me in that disgusting manner, you shitty blind rat."

"Ouch— when did you become so mean?!"

"Since the day you decided to call me your beloved."

"I've been calling you that since you were in diapers!"

"Exactly."

Gojo Satoru let out a hmph as he snatched the parfait on the table, aggressively biting onto the spoon as he quietly ate across Yua Shihori.

"So," the sorcerer began as he gave his childhood friend a pointed look. "How's living as a non-sorcerer going?" When they became high school students, Yua Shihori left his clan, changed his surname, and lived as a normal person.

Although Satoru didn't know the reason for that, he supported his only childhood friend to the best of his abilities. Plus, Shihori made the best sweets so Satoru stuck himself to him like an annoying fungus.

Shihori paused from sipping the iced mocha in his hand. "Good, I guess. I worked in a hospital a few years back and fuck, there was a shit ton of curses roaming around. At least they're not something I can't handle."

"Pfft— why did you work as a nurse then?!"

"... I wanted to help people in the way that sorcerers can't."

A moment of silence permeated between them, the sound of the coffee machine brewing and the blurry chatters of people filled the background. Satoru opened his mouth, wanting to say something before closing them.

The sorcerer momentarily recalled about the past.

Yua Shihori... came from the Zenin Clan. He wasn't a member of the main branch, of course, but they had placed importance on him due to his immense cursed energy that even Zenin Naoya had been wary of. But due to a series of events, Shihori cut ties with them and never went back once.

It had been a decade since then.

Satoru could still remember a younger Shihori sitting at the Gojo Clan's lounge room, wet from head to toe due to the stormy weather, and how the Shihori from back then rushed into his arms and cried.