ITSY BITSY SPIDER. ― ( Jujutsu Kaisen )

CHAPTER THREE. many shades of grief

( August 2007 )

"Should I check if she locked herself in her room again?"

Ryosuke looked away from the freshly pruned tree in the courtyard for the first time in over half an hour. The gentle sway of its red leaves didn't put on an interesting show, but he couldn't stand watching his cousin fill his right cheek with air and loudly empty it for any longer as they passed time on the porch, dressed in their best black suits again after just six months. Those were the first words Satoru had spoken to him since he sat across the chabudai, which he had quickly claimed by perching his elbow in the middle of the square table to rest his head in his palm and blank out at the same tree.

"Give her some space. She'll come out when she feels ready. We still have time."

Satoru gave him a light nod. The treasure of the Gojo clan was born with many exceptional talents. Dealing with someone else's grief wasn't one of them, Ryosuke had discovered half a year before Haibara Yu's tragic death: in the aftermath of their grandfather's passing. He could still remember his face while they stood outside the old man's room — Arisu sitting on the floor by the door with tears welled up in her eyes, Satoru standing across her with a blank face, and him leaning against the wall a little further away — and how he stared at her like she was doing something wrong as she hid her face with her collar and silently cried after feeling their grandfather's cursed energy fade away.

The funeral was no different. He hadn't said a single word to comfort Arisu while the girl cried on his shoulder, only stared at the photograph on the altar with an anger that the older boy had never seen in his cousin's eyes before. Nor had he spoken of his grandfather's name again. Satoru was his pride, and Arisu was his joy. To this day, Ryosuke didn't know what the old man had done before his death to earn his pride's hatred.

This time he was trying to be more than a shoulder to cry on (when he could get her to leave her bed), although he looked lost and helpless all the time. Whenever Ryosuke walked into a room he was in, Satoru's eyes were on him, silently begging for help he was too proud to voice as if the older boy was an expert in grief.

Ryosuke sure had a long experience with it, but it didn't mean he was any better than him. All his efforts were in vain.

"Don't wear those sunglasses during the ceremony."

Satoru tilted his head to look at him. Gravity pulled down the opaque lenses and exposed the famous blue eyes they were sheltering. "Are you serious?"

"I know why you wear them. They don't. It's disrespectful to the family." His gaze returned to the maple tree. A sparrow dove into the red clouds and perched on a branch. "Don't make yourself the talk of this funeral too."

"Huh?" Ryosuke didn't repeat, and Satoru didn't push it. Neither side wanted to crown the already unpleasant day with an argument. "You're becoming just like Aunt Shiori," he said under his breath, loud enough to make sure he heard him. "Fine. I'll take them off during the ceremony."

As they returned to their much preferred silence, Ryosuke pushed his cuff to check the time. Although there was enough time for Arisu to get ready, he wished she was quicker about it while the house was still quiet. His father and uncle weren't home; Aunt Shiori had mentioned a meeting with someone important, but Ryosuke couldn't imagine a scenario where Uncle Seiichi would bring his useless little brother along to anything concerning the clan's affairs. It had to be his aunt's doing. Otherwise, he would've been there to flaunt him in his son's face.