fuck buddies don't act like this (Gojo x Reader)

Chapter 87

~Gojo~

He is gasping, drawing in mouthfuls of air as he comes to surrounded in chaos and a continuous beep that hasn't been able to press off for some time now. There are several bodies rushing into the room and squeezing through the door like starved, rabid beasts. Their faces are panicked and drained of colour, and sweat clings to their skin, as does his. The thunderous beat in his chest dulls alongside the ache in his cheek as it becomes nothing in comparison to the guttural numbness of looking to his left and finding your lifeless body.

Your chest isn't rising.

Your heart isn't beating.

And the monitor continues to cry as hungry hands reach for your body.

No. No, he can't have that. They can't touch you. Not with their panicked claws and salivating lips, you're here, you need help, not their mistakes. They happen so often when people are rushed with anxiety and are scared.

He throws his arms over your body and cups your neck, it's still warm but cooling by the second. There's no pulse, and the doctors and nurses slow to a standstill, confused and alarmed. They turn to each other; their voices are so loud, yet his ears become deaf to their constant chirping when all he can feel is you.

You were there.

It's impossible to be, but you were, he knows you like the back of his hand, and he knows that the little presence that you do offer can't be shrouded in darkness. His eyes cannot mistake you when he is magnetised to your orbit. You are loud and vibrant, but there you were small and cast in shadow, your presence weakening until all there was, was a whisper of his name on your lips.

An echo lost in his mind.

The world spins around him as hands lurch and struggle against the boundary. He can't look away. Despite the normalcy of death in his line of work, seeing it reflected on you disgusts him to the core, shakes him and stirs a torrent of unkept emotions. They die and spark anew in a never-ending battle.

Until there is nothing but death and loneliness.

His curse. Love, the most wretched curse of them all. Curses him for eternity.

Gojo's arms go limp, and his barrier slips away as doctors and nurses rush, pushing past him and surrounding your body. Stripping your gown, placing pads on your ribs and clavicle before stunning you once, twice, yet you lie still, unchanged.

Hands try to tug him away, but he is a mountain slicing through wind.

"Satoru." A familiar voice splashes against him, draining part of the fog away.

Yet, he does not look away, he can't.

Your body jerks and lifts with the paddles. Hands compress on your naked chest as someone covers your mouth with a bag and manually inflates your lungs. The doctor with the paddles returns and all rushing hands stop, pull away and wait for the third zap pouring into your body, jerking it, frying your skin.

He'll remember every detail for the rest of his life. He'll remember the buzzing of the paddles everywhere he goes as a form of tinnitus. His eyes won't allow anything to be missed. The memory of your death is a nightmare he wishes to never live yet here he is standing at the foot of the bed.

The time for peace is gone, even as a hand blocks his view he can still see beyond, watching the last flickers of energy wane away.

Shoko is before you, squeezing into the huddle and placing her hands on your temple and chest. Pure positive energy seeps into your body and cradles the remaining embers away from the light. Nanami drops his hand and turns to stand by him, watching the unchanged change and the flickering embers spark to life.