CELESTIAL FLOWERS ( s. gojo )

arc vii ━ chapter v. augury

a r c vii.

❝ is your name a wish, a prayer, or a hope?

is your name a curse? ❞

━━ chapter v. augury

EVER SINCE THE DAYS IN THAT DARK ROOM WITH BLADES AND BLOOD AND SHADOWS AND CULTS, KAZUKO HAS FEARED SLEEP. There's always that irrational fear clawing at her back, at her skin and she can vividly remember the feeling of metal and the screams that escaped her mouth ricocheting off the walls. Kazuko knows that it's careless, but since then, she's always slept with a night lamp open, and if not, the windows unlocked and raised just a little.

But she knows. That she cannot run away from the nightmares forever, can't shove away sleep because she needs it as much as the next person. And now the nightmares, as her, the star of the show: a black serpent coiled around her limbs, slithering to her arms and neck and leaving traces of blood wherever it went. A clammy feeling overtakes her senses, and she wants to do something about it, but the sickening sensation leaves her paralyzed.

Unable to do anything but listen to the screams, and redundant hollers of phrases and words that held no meaning.

(Kazuko.) It says. It never stops sounding strange whenever she hears her own voice muttered from its lips. Did it even have lips? (Your name is Kazuko.)

Laughter follows soon after. Hints of malevolence and derision. (Kazuko. Kazuko. Kazuko. Kazuko.) Her name feels like a curse word on its tongue, sounds like it's being spit onto the nearest pavement like flavorless chewing gum that sticks to the soles of your shoes and refuses to budge no matter how many times you pull at it. (Do you know the meaning of your name, Ka-zu-ko?)

She doesn't answer. The nightmares pass easily when she simply lets them be. It doesn't shake away the fear, or the disgusting sensation rolling across her, but it shortens the amount of time she spends in it so Kazuko believes it's better off this way.

(A foolish name. A foolish meaning.)

The serpent vanishes and this time she's inside a room. Kazuko recognizes it in a split second and she folds in on herself. The tatami mats, the lack of windows, black stars inscribed upon skin. The faint hush of flames inside paper lanterns and the sound of fabric that brushes against the floor ever so slightly.

(A foolish name for you. A foolish name for me.)

Footsteps. Hushed at first, but the volume increases with every passing moment. Kazuko tries to press her palms against her ears to stifle the sound, but it's pointless. She can feel a hand on her chin and it tips her head up so she can see the figure face to face. A gasp is expelled from her lips as she sees her own reflection. Disgust curdled in her stomach once the faint lines of blood marring the figure come to view. It's her, but bloody and bruised and beaten like those days.

(Kazuko.

An unfitting name for me and you.

Kazuko.

A desperate prayer, an unanswered wish, a foolish hope.

Kazuko.

Is your name a wish? Is your name a prayer? Is your name a hope?

Kazuko.

Is your name a curse?)

She can feel palms wrapped around her cheeks, beckoning her to witness the disheveled reflection of herself. Tears stream forth from her eyes. Tears that resemble tar, black and venomous like poison. They plummet into the floor in thick, fat drops and Kazuko prays and hopes and wishes for it all to be over.

(We are Kazuko.)

She hates it, she hates it here. Kazuko can hear the sound of her own desperate breaths and she hates how this feels so real. How the sensations that linger all over her body feel even more lucid every time the nightmares occur. Let me out! Stay away! Leave me alone!

(I am Kazuko.)

When she was younger, even before the windowless room and the cult, before Gojo and Kiyoshi and Hayami, before the unraveling, Kazuko had nightmares like this too. Her two-year-old brain could not process them the way she did now, but they were there. Leaving her crying early in the morning way before the sun rose and warmed the earth. Made her sob incessantly into her pillow. On worse days, she had to run across the hallways to Fuyuko's room, barefoot and dressed in her sleepwear. The old woman would croon her name, Kazuko Kazuko Kazuko like a wish, a prayer, a hope and wipe the teardrops away.

(I am a wish, a prayer, and a hope.)

Those were the kinder days. The later days were harsher. Fuyuko fully lost her vision and the traces of kindness and open affection along with it. She still loved Kazuko (even three-year-old Kazuko could still tell from the tender way Fuyuko braided her raven hair and the lingering gaze that she sent her when she thought Kazuko was too immersed in studying to notice), but there were no more moments when she held Kazuko in her arms and wiped away her tears. Only teachings that prepared her for the harsh world.

You are to be Erisu-sama's attendant. Ebisu-sama has decreed it to be so. Work hard and serve her.

By this time, the nightmares had vanished and so did her vivid memories of what transpired during them.

(I am a curse.)

There's a gargantuan serpent looming over her. Its figure is backlit against the shining sun, but she can see the ebony scales glint with gold, a luminescence that resembles the sun. Its mouth opens. So many teeth, and four sharp fangs that would skewer anybody that managed to receive the misfortune of being eaten by it. Black liquid pools inside its mouth and when Kazuko looks at its eyes, she can see the void within it like the colors of the darkest nights, swirling and swirling and the next thing she knows, she is no longer staring at darkness but in the blue of the sky during daylight.

"Gojo-san?"

He smiles, that laidback, lazy smile of his that hides the relief he felt when she opened her eyes. He takes a pink strawberry from a fruit basket on the side of her table and eats it. She scans the room and Kiyoshi and Hayami are there too.

"Kazuko," Hayami calls. Kiyoshi echoes it, but with more tears. Between the two, or rather the three of them, he's the most attuned to his emotions.

Kazuko wants to smile at them, but the shock and fear are still playing in her system. Instead, she settles for calling their names. The door opens and in comes Shouko who's probably the reason why there's no more pain all over her body.

"Thank you, Ieiri-senpai," she says and bows at her. "For everything."

The older girl waves it away with that crooked smile of hers that Kazuko finds charming. "Don't sweat it. I'm glad you're healed already. It took quite a while."

"A while," Kiyoshi says and she sees his fists shaking. "If she hadn't woken up today, it'd be three whole days."

Three days?

"Now, now," Hayami tells him. "What's important is that Kazuko's awake."

Three days...

Kiyoshi nods. Turns to her. "How are you feeling, Kazuko? Any discomfort?"

"You were crying earlier, you know," Gojo points out as he bites into one of the muffins from another hand-weaved basket. Kazuko's eyes narrow. Wasn't that supposed to be for her? Typical.

"Never mind that," she says and speaks in her usual tone. Logical. Unfailing. Her eyes are steely as she looks at Kiyoshi. "Did you say it's almost been three days?"

He nods.

Fuck.

She should have been in the Nakano estate by now.

"Erisu!" Kazuko exclaims and unpeels the hospital sheets away from her. Can she still make it? Eri, please be okay. It was foolish to hope, but she has to. Otherwise... Kazuko shakes it all away as she stands. She doesn't miss the prickle of annoyance from Gojo.

"Yeah, yeah, Erisu your life's purpose," Gojo says. There's frustration, but she doesn't read more into it, her entire attention directed onto Erisu. If two days have passed, that means the ritual is happening now. Kazuko turns to Gojo, despair palpable in her face.

"We'll go there as soon as you're dressed. Some Assistant's here to pick you up and I'm coming with."

━━ to be continued.

i. one of my favorite chapters to write, what do you guys think?

ii. only three chapters left, thanks for reading!