"It can't be that bad."
As always, Megumi is the voice of reason. He's younger than you are, but he's always been able to keep a level head during tense situations. It's no wonder that he's already been classified as a Grade 2 sorcerer prior to his official enrolment in Jujutsu High. And while you appreciate the sentiments, you can't bring yourself to acknowledge his (admittedly sweet) attempt at comfort. Not when there's plenty of evidence telling you otherwise.
Wordlessly, you hand Gojo's phone over. Megumi immediately turns up the brightness and squints at the screen, in the exact same mannerisms of an old man. And you wait. Megumi watches the one-sided fight in a silent, almost awed manner. He hadn't been at the school when Getou had attacked, but had been hidden away with Tsumiki, and you're sure that the feeling of being left out had probably nagged at him to an unbearable degree. You don't react to the sounds of combat, blaring out in the room at full volume, but you do let out another anguished groan when your voice floats out over the speakers. It isn't the first time you've heard yourself saying those cursed words, and you doubt it will be the last, either.
What are you saying? This is true love.
Megumi pauses the video. Quite unhelpfully, he says, "Oh. Maybe it is that bad."
From underneath your mound of blankets, you glance despondently at your younger brother. "I should have just called him a bitchless old man and told him to fuck off. Why didn't I say that, Megumi?"
"I don't know." Megumi says, and wow, that's really helpful, thanks a lot. "I'll just play the rest of the video now."
"Sure. Let's see the rest of my humiliation. Why not?"
Peering over Megumi's shoulder, you catch a quick glimpse of Yuta holding your crumpled body, his face contorted into a terrible mask of pain, right before the scene shifts. Yuta and Rika, leaping forwards to confront Getou at speeds that leave you breathless. Getou's face, twisted up into a sneer as he accuses Yuta of being a womanizer. The double meaning to his words is not lost on you, and as you stare blankly at the screen, you're overcome with the sudden urge to scream. One man causing trouble from beyond the grave would be an impressive feat ━ if only it wasn't your life he was ruining.
"What are you going to do now?"
"Transfer to the Kyoto side." You say immediately, without any shred of hesitation whatsoever. "No, wait, Maki's mean sister is there. I changed my mind, I'll be going to the Fukuoka side. Saki's there, and she's nice."
"But Okkotsu-senpai will want to talk to you." Megumi presses, and you scowl. Ever since you'd introduced Megumi to Yuta, it's become glaringly obvious that you've been dethroned as Megumi's favorite senior. Though you can't exactly complain; Yuta's sweet, sunny disposition has endeared him to just about everyone, even the prickly Hakari. "You can't just avoid him."
"It's a big school. I'm sure I'll manage until Gojo fills out my transfer papers."
"No, I mean Okkotsu-senpai texted me. He wants to know if I'm with you."
"And what did you say?" You ask slowly, even though your gut is ringing the itty bitty panic bell, and the deliberately blank look on Megumi's face says it all. I'm not going to cover for you, Megumi seems to be saying. And the message has been received, loud and clear. You bury your face into your hands, inhale, and unleash a tirade of words. "One day, you'll have a crush of your own, and I'm gonna make sure that Gojo annoys the crap out of both of you."
And because your next words won't be as kind, you don't say anything. Besides, there are more pressing issues to take care of. Mainly, Yuta. Who wants to see you. And will be coming to see you now thanks to Megumi ratting you out. You feel sick, winded. More so when you feel that familiar pressure of Cursed Energy. Of course Yuta would come. And of course Gojo would tag along with him.
You aren't sure who knocks on your door, but you figure that it doesn't really matter. There's a brief moment when you're swamped by a wave of panic, and you have the vague notion of your feet moving.
The door is pushed open, and you can hear Yuta's voice, soft and uncertain. He sounds as though he's mustering every ounce of his courage when he next speaks. "Um. Is [NAME] here?"
And it's as though a switch has been flipped and all rational thought has been chased far from your mind. You don't think. You just act. Opening the window shutters wide and jumping down in your haste to escape. Almost at once you hear a loud crack, which is almost loud enough to drown out the sound of Yuta screaming. Almost. But not quite. A sharp pain radiates up your leg. Most likely it's a broken ankle from your fall, but it's nothing you can't fix. You're already scrambling away before the light has fully faded from your fingertips.
"She just left." Megumi says, loud enough for you to hear.
You can hear Gojo laughing so hard that he wheezes and chokes pathetically on his next breath. Good, you think savagely, and you as spitefully hope that he'll laugh himself to death, you find yourself remembering a sports field and languorous blue skies from a lifetime ago. But the brief sense of nostalgia you feel is gone, quickly swept away by the more urgent need to leave that claws frantically at your gut.
You take the subway in circles for the better part of the day, until you find yourself at a familiar hospital, a giant white and cream building. That's fine. You haven't seen your sister in a while, anyway.
You walk past the emergency room, through the glassed-in lobby, and past the gift shop selling balloons and flowers. You buy half a dozen candy bars at the gift shop ━ you've more than earned it ━ before walking to the back elevator. As you catch an empty elevator car, you rip open a bar and bite viciously into it, and try to calm down by focusing on the comfort of milk chocolate melting over your tongue. It's okay. They won't find you here. It's okay.
Tsumiki is on the top floor, in a private room outfitted like a suite in one of the city's best hotels. You push open the door and walk inside the room. The paper bag of candy is unceremoniously dumped onto the rolling table next to the television. You've unknowingly chosen all of Tsumiki's favorite sweets, but not even that is enough to revive her.
Tsumiki is lying on the bed, her hands folded at her stomach. Her thick, dark hair, long and lustrous, is fanned out on the pillow. Her face is serene and peaceful as you collapse into the squashy armchair next to the foot of the bed.
"There's a boy I like . . ." You begin, and fall silent to look at Tsumiki. There is no movement from the bed, but still you look, hoping. You know that Tsumiki would have been ecstatic at the news, giggling like a schoolgirl and demanding that you tell her more with a giddy smile on her face. "His name is Yuta. He's really ━ He's nice. He's cute. I, I like him a lot. I hope you get to meet him soon."
You glance at Tsumiki's placid face. Nothing. Not even a wrinkle on her cheek. A ghost of a smile.
The silence in the room feels almost like a grave.
