𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙪𝙢 » gojo satoru.

golden wishes

❝ every time, you bleed reaching for greatness ❞

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𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗬, 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗠 days were rare. Whether it be rainy, it was cloudy, or the nicer days were spent being drenched in the blood of curses, be it high or low in rank. 

However, today was different, and you spent your time settled under a beautiful tree in the shade of the garden in jujutsu tech, enjoying a cup of oolong tea. You settled back against the rough bark, feeling the indents bump and press against your spine like a massage chair. Yes, it would be a nice day.

From afar, you admired your so-called partner in missions, Satoru Gojo, as he ran from building to building, messing with the other jujutsu sorcerers. His favorite past-time, and of course, with a cake in his hand. 

You admired the way his hair flew through the wind, like it bent to nobody but him. Like it wasn't his hair being moved by the wind, but the wind being moved by him. Like it was free and wild, untamed and as chaotic as high noon, but it was his to reign and own. Like he was the center of the universe and demanded all attention all around him. His frivolous manner gave away no lie to his nature, because all were aware that he was vicious when needed, kind when want to be, and cold when humored. 

For a second, your eyes met through your mask, and he gave you a grin before bouncing off once again.

He disappeared around the corner and you sighed to yourself, "Fuck, if only I could find his energy somewhere in my room of messes," and lifted the bottom of your mask ever so slightly before taking a tentative sip. 

Leaves and petals flew around you, which was a nice change of the guts and gore that you were used to. It was a nice change in pace from the horror and stress and hate that occurred every other day, and days that were nice as this could only be spent in isolation, with your mask secured tightly on your face.

All of the sudden, you felt a presence; a presence that usually wasn't detectable, but was for now, only because to whomever it belonged allowed it to be. 

He had always let his presence and energy out for a little with you, so that you didn't get jumped and spooked. God knew that you got startled easily within these premises, but Gojo knew it even better. 

"Care for a slice, [name]?" you turned, and saw Gojo behind you, holding a slice of cheesecake in a plate in his outstretched hand, his own in the other. "It's the perfect weather for some citrus cheesecake sprinkled with shredded coconut."

You smiled under your mask. Yes, you knew he couldn't see, but he could feel; he could feel you and your emotions from under it. After all, you had come to know him for a decent chunk of time, and he, you. He knew everything you were feeling. He'd known you long enough, after all.