Into Infinity | Satoru Gojo x Female Reader

Chapter 18

That night you have a dream.

You're floating in a grey abyss. Empty. Aimless. Formless. You can't make sense of anything around you, but there is a reason you are here. A purpose. Something. Someone.

"What is this..." A gentle voice speaks through the haze. "I thought I'd finally gotten some rest."

The voice also has no form. You search around for it in the space. Something about this voice—about this situation is... familiar.

"Oh, I see," the voice says, "It's you."

And just like that, everything crashes together.

A world builds itself out of the haze around you.

Trees, as silver as the moon, sprout up on either side of you, their long, spindly branches reaching up into a sky that is darker than the night. The ground on which the trees stand is not a ground at all, but a bed of clouds that drifts slowly over your ankles. And the sky, rather than being a sky, is an inky black ocean that ripples and waves over your head, every so often sending down splashes of water that evaporate before they reach the height of the trees.

Despite the branches of the trees being bare, silver leaves and petals float in the air. And swaying softly in the background is the gentle sound of wind chimes.

Directly in front of you, rising out of the clouds, is a wide raised platform made of limestone. On it, sculpted out of the stone, are two large wings shaped in the form of a throne. The black sky falls into a waterfall behind it, creating a pool that loops around the front of the platform like a small moat.

And standing on the platform is a man.

You have to rub your eyes a few times to make sure you're not imagining him, because the man is so beautiful, he may be a descendent of God himself.

He is tall and lean, dressed in a midnight black kimono that hangs loosely open at his chest, revealing a hard surface of ivory-colored skin. His black, waist-length hair looks as if it is made of the same expensive silk as his kimono and hangs in the perfect middle part around his face. His face—despite looking as if it were sculpted from stone—is delicate and pristinely feminine. Tucked into his waistband is a small fan, also black, with a silver handle, and two grey feathers hanging from its end.He is the picture of pure romantic grace. The cross between Roman God and excavated samurai.

You resist the urge to bow.

The man moves across the platform and takes a seat in the throne.

"Pardon me," he says, "But I've taken the liberty of creating a domain, since you seemed to be struggling. Though it's a bit rough..." He speaks in soft melancholy tones, like one who doesn't have the energy or the care to access the deeper sections of their voice box. Every word is but a breath, a sigh. It is almost poetic.

And you can't stop staring. "K-Kiyomo?" you stutter. "Kiyomo Koretoki, is that you?"

He looks at you. Through you. "Yes, you are the one that called me here, why do you look so surprised?"

You bravely take a step toward the platform. "You're... are you... The Dark Angel, is that also you?" You notice now, that what you thought was water falling from the sky is actually a stream of black feathers that collects softly at his feet.

He bats his long eyelashes. "Is that the name they've chosen to favor now? I suppose it's not bad..."

You look up at him.

He sits casually in his throne, one shaped leg crossed over the other. He is so calm. Like water. And even in his spirit form, he exudes power. It's almost as if by staring, you are able to absorb all of the wisdom and knowledge he possesses.