CELESTIAL FLOWERS ( s. gojo )

arc vi ━ chapter iii. otherworldly

a r c vi.

❝ who are you?

are you tool, thief, or girl? ❞

━━ chapter iii. otherworldly

KOYAMA KAZUKO IS A TIRED GIRL. She needs all the sleep she can get. And yet everything refuses to cooperate.

There's a snake wrapped around her limbs, slithering across every inch of skin and she's screaming because every part it passes reveals angry red lines and it's the feel of metal again and Kazuko is thrashing against it, her face damp with sweat and get away get away get away!

(I'll never go away.)

Kazuko can't move her hands. Her limbs are frozen in place. (Just like that time. In that dark, cold room.) And she can't even hear her scream because her voice refuses to escape the confines of her throat and more lines appear, from her palms to her legs and knees and stomach. The snake wriggles and its tail is wrapped around her leg and Kazuko can't breathe. She wants to wrench the accursed thing away from her body, but she can't move.

Go away. Go away. Go away.

(I'll never go away. Because...)

Tears streak down her cheeks. Warm. Down to her collarbones and soaking into the fabric of her shirt. Like falling stars across the night sky. One after another in incessant motion.

(I'm you.) Kazuko hates this voice so much. There's something being whispered in the background that turns louder. (You can never run away.)

Kazuko gasps for air and stumbles out of her bed. She falls to the floor with a loud thud and she can hear the nightlamp propped on the desk next to her bed rattle from the impact. The sound of her heavy breathing fills the atmosphere and she folds in on herself and tucks her head between her knees in an attempt to calm the tremors in her chest.

It's okay. I'm okay. It's over. I'm fine now. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay.

Breathe. When she manages to stand on shaky limbs, she heads for the light switch and the glow from the fluorescent bulb illuminates the entire room. Her eyes gradually get used to the amount of brightness, but there's the inevitable sharp sting from the contrast between the once dimly lit space to now.

"It's going to be okay."

Kazuko's glad that there's nothing wrong with her voice. She can speak and there's no malicious intent wedged within it. She checks the time and reads that it's 4:27 in the morning. Not an ideal time to be awake, but she'd rather spend the whole morning training rather than risk nightmares again.

"I'm okay."

Kazuko heads to her shower, changes into suitable clothes, shrugs away the lethargy creeping into her bones, and heads to the training facility.

The voice is still there when she enters the establishment, it's still repeating the same words in that same, unchanging tone, and Kazuko wonders if it's cursing her but she shakes her thoughts away from the accursed thought. Kazuko chooses to ignore it. She won't give it any attention, won't give it even a meager amount of power over her. There it is again. Murmuring a redundant phrase she can't find meaning to.

"I'm okay," she repeats again for good measure.

 ■ ■ ■

KAZUKO'S CURSED TECHNIQUE IS ONE SHE DEVELOPED WITH UTAHIME'S HELP. And begrudgingly, Gojo. She's in her third year, but she hasn't mastered it yet. Between her busy schedule with the constant errands of the elders, missions, and class-related readings, she has little to no time to practice it.

The sun is not yet up. Dews are still present on the blades of grass and there's steam and condensation fogging the glass windows. Kazuko has always been someone who has been lacking in raw power. Her limbs are fragile and she's only a couple of decimal places away from being underweight. As per Utahime, the most optimal solution for her is to capitalize on the lightness of her body and focus on speed.

She sets up the markers. Thin, metal rods the length of her palms with talismans inscribed on the top. There's a jagged edge that makes it easier for her to lodge them into the ground. She throws the first marker two meters away from her, projects the image of the location unto her mind, focuses, and in less than a second, she's in the same location as the marker. She gasps for air. The process is taxing in terms of Cursed Energy, but if she manages to pinpoint the exact amount needed to do it, it will be a strength she can utilize.

Or so she'd like to think that she'd succeed. She's not Gojo after all. Gojo's Inherited Technique enabled him to activate Teleportation across long distances. It even gave him the perk of dragging along people with him. When Kazuko had mentioned offhandedly that she was focusing on speed, he had bragged (he was only speaking facts, but Kazuko preferred to use the term 'brag' since it was in line with his character) that no matter how fast she was, he'd win every race against her as he could teleport.

"Is that jealousy I see, Kazu?" he asked with that grin on his face. They're grocery shopping in Shinjuku— or more like Gojo decided to tag along in her grocery shopping because he was bored— and he's placing so many sweets on the cart. "Jealous that you aren't as awesome as me?"

"Teleportation..." she murmured dubiously. "Can you really do it?"

"Of course," he says with his usual playful tone that makes it difficult to distinguish if he was joking or completely serious. "Nothing is impossible for Gojo Satoru."

Kazuko, as lifeless as ever, her voice stone cold. "Then please teleport as far away from me as possible."

"Don't want to."

"What a shame..."

Gojo grabs the handle of the shopping cart before Kazuko can move to another aisle. "Your remarks kind of hurt sometimes, you know that?"

"They're meant to hurt, so if they don't that means I've failed to deliver."

Gojo flicks her forehead. Kazuko considers kicking him in the crotch. She was always feeling particularly violent with this man. All the irritation from early in the morning had piled up.

"But teleportation, huh?" Kazuko murmurs again when they're walking back to the dorms. The sun was particularly merciless that day, striking the earth with rays so hot she thought she would melt. "How is it possible?"

Gojo grins. He has cellophane bags in both his hands. Unlike Kazuko, he doesn't look the least bit bothered by the dreadful heat. "Kazu, can I hold your hand?"

Brows furrowed. "Huh? Why?"

"I'll show you how to teleport," he says and one second, she can feel the coldness of his fingers and the next they're standing in front of her dorm room.

It was improbable to travel long distances since it needed a high amount of Cursed Energy, but with careful calculations regarding the utilization of that Cursed Energy and the assistance of a couple of Cursed Tools, teleporting, or warping as she'd like to call it, was deemed possible.

Kazuko steadies herself, throws the marker again, her other hand clutching the jitte and when she warps in the back of the training dummy, she hits it on the nape with a heavy blow. It's a taxing technique, but she's here to make it less taxing. Her movements need to be more fluid.

Faster, lighter, quicker.

Focus. More accurate. Steadier.

You can do it, Kazuko.

(Even your ability is all about running away.)

No.

Kazuko will fight. She throws the marker again, and again and again.

Kazuko will be stronger this time.

Dozens of warps are conducted before Kazuko falls to the floor in exhaustion. She catches glimpses of the sun outside and decides that she'll take another shower to ward off the stench and sweat away.

It's seven in the morning when she finishes her second shower for the day and heads to class. Throughout the venture towards the classroom, her thoughts are filled with how to make her Cursed Technique more efficient. How she handles her Cursed Technique is getting better, but she wishes that there was a tool somewhere that could make it even easier.

She ponders on asking Utahime, but the woman is on a mission somewhere in Kyoto and all her calls go straight to voicemail. Gojo is an option, but she doesn't— oh whatever, she was letting her personal biases get in the way of effective solutions. Kazuko checks the time. Another 45 minutes before her first period. She turns away from the direction of the classroom and makes a beeline toward the men's dormitory.

She needed to be stronger. Fists clenched, eyes looking straight ahead. There's conviction bursting within her. She should stop acting like a child, no more jerking away from every possible uncomfortable situation. Sometimes she just had to brave through it.

Remember what you're doing this for. Be stronger. Be smarter. In that way, you won't lose anything ever again. In that way, you will be able to protect yourself and those you hold dear.