Supine | Satoru Gojo

chapter 1

chapter 1: a dragon's smoke and ash

~呪術廻戦~

"You are awake..."

The deep voice grumbled and shot panic in her body as she froze in place in the dim kitchen. Her tight grip on her cup of water was the only movement she made while maintaining paralyzed eye contact with her exhausted father.

Internally, she swore up a storm and hoped that he would ignore her if she stood frozen. Even attempting not to breathe, she only watched his tall form in the hallway from the darkness of the kitchen. But he walked to the dining room, dropping the eye contact and moving easily. He took a seat at the table, turning the chair to look at her silent figure.

At that moment, the legendary god that was Miroku Koki was nothing but a smoked-out dragon in his ash. Flame suffocated and snuffed after years of burning brighter than white. With weary tired winter blue eyes that were once brilliantly sapphire, he watched his daughter. Miroku Koki could only depend on his heavy bones and tough hide for so long before he fell into his fading embers.

Could only survive in his own shadow for so long before the books were rewritten.

But he did not fear the smoldering lake. He glowed so bright his entire life and the Jujutsu World knew his name. The clan's name and blood were made richer with every stroke of his brush. His old bones deserved rest.

Whom he truly feared for was Sayuri. The heir of the Koki throne and cursed beyond all means. A crown heavier than stone and shadows tall as mountains. Sayuri would be subjected to live up to burdening standards or would fall into the lake with him.

Disregarded.

But she would not drown. Sinking and bowing were never grasped by Sayuri's pride. Her spine never bent, not even to her father. Sayuri stood tall with her chin high and an unimaginable amount of animosity brewing in her gut.

Folding for no man's desire even as a child.

But as the rightful head of the clan, would anything be of her own choice?

"I am awake. You look unwell."

Cold and stiff, it was hard to believe that Sayuri was speaking with her father. But she was always her mother's child before anything. Where Tsubaki had gentle and warm hands, Miroku only had harsh callouses. It did not take long for Sayuri to trust one more than the other.

"Hard to look well when the love of your life is no longer by your side."

The bitter laugh left Miroku's lips after his words before he could help it, the mean and snide part of him slipping out from the cracks.

He was wounded. The vulnerable aches causing him to be defensive and harm those around him. Not even his daughter was safe from the teeth that came with his hurt. But it was why he had avoided Sayuri for days. Distance crushing what little the two had but he was unable to coddle his fury. Unable to bury the stabbing nature he tried to spare his daughter.

Tsubaki always hated when Miroku and Sayuri argued and distanced from each other. It almost made him feel guilty and ashamed that he purposely did this after she was gone.

Memories of his scolding wife slamming into him for bruising and scraping their child's skin. Her anger ran to the surface of his mind. He aimed to toughen his daughter to survive cruelty and abuse from the outside world but forgot not to become what abused her flesh and mind.

He did not intend to make her defend herself from her father too.

"Gojo Satoru, huh?"

Sayuri changed the subject with a monotone. She did not want to pity her father any more than she did herself. For herself, she dug a pool to drown in when her mother was laid to rest. A pool that was murky and deep enough to never find herself again. But for her father whom she watched treat everyone around him harshly, she left nothing. Not even water to kick his feet in.