𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑺𝑶𝑹𝑹𝑶𝑾⇢ Gojo Satoru

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐗𝐈 - 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘

MIKAZUKI'S EYES FLUTTERED CLOSED AND, for a brief second, she allowed herself to float away. It was easier like this, pretending – even if it was only for a second – that this life was not hers. Suddenly, she was somewhere else, far away from the confines of this train. Away from all the drama and the revenge and the pity she could feel in Satoru's piercing eyes. There was something about the way he looked at her, his stare glaring despite her eyes being closed. She felt observed, constantly under his watch.

In here, though – in the safety of her own mind – she could be whoever she wanted. Maybe she was a painter, living in a studio with paint all over her skin and a brush holding up her hair. Maybe she was a waitress, pulling double shifts to feed her children. Maybe she was just a girl, somewhere safe, with a family that wasn't rotten to the core.

Sleep began eating away at her thoughts, but before the restless nightmares could claim her, Mikazuki blinked herself away, turning to face Satoru. Her eyes softened, the gold in them burning bright and turning molten as she watched him. Gojo was doing his thing, playing on his phone with his earphones plugged in. He looked so... normal. Mortal. It was hard to reconcile this was the same man who had once razed an entire city with a single movement of his hand. He was a god in human form, and as Mikazuki's addled mind assessed him, she couldn't help but want to worship him.

Sensing a disturbance in her Cursed Energy, Satoru paused the video he'd been watching and pulled out his earphone. The sorcerer smiled softly, yet the gesture didn't quite reach his eyes. The man she'd spied seconds earlier was gone, a rougher version of him taking his place. This man, this Gojo Satoru, held the weight of the world on his shoulders, and it was beginning to eat away at him.

"Hey, sleepyhead. Glad to see you've finally rejoined the world of us mortals." He greeted, his voice a tad softer than usual, like honey dripping from a pot.

"Hey." Mikazuki found herself answering, the words slipping from her tongue before she could stop herself.

The sorceress closed her eyes, cursing herself for her own foolish behaviour. She didn't want to be soft, not when her every weakness had already been exploited by everyone she knew, including the man sitting by her side. Satoru didn't notice the slip up, his own expression slipping slightly as he adjusted the blanket he'd draped around her. He tugged on the hem, pulling it away before stashing it under the seat.

"I didn't want to wake you, but we're less than a half an hour away from the town." He locked his phone, pulling out a file which he handed to the sorceress. "I thought we could review the case, just to get our bearings before we get there."

Mikazuki flipped through the pages, the mission report feeling heavy in her hands.

"Right." Mikazuki cleared her throat, mouth becoming dry as she skipped past the six pictures of the kids.

Their bodies had been dried out, not a single drop of blood in their veins. Their eyes were hollow, their skin rough like sandpaper. If this creature fed on fear, then it had certainly feasted with each one of them. Mikazuki felt sick to her stomach, but it had little to do with the speed of the train. Instead, the pictures haunted her already, the hollowed eyes of those six children burning a hole through her mind like a bullet pulled from a loaded gun.

"We can do this later if you want. We can settle down at the hotel and then–"

I'm not weak. She wanted to snap at him. It would have been an easy thing to do; she always felt on edge around Satoru, his presence irking her like no other, but even as she clutched the folder in her hands, Mikazuki knew that would be rather cruel. He was trying his best, kept his sarcastic remarks to a minimum since her birthday, but even then, Mikazuki could detect that slight snarky tint in his tone. Satoru was so used to light her fuse and ignite that spark of chaos; he didn't know how to tune it down. Not that she could blame him when she was the exact same with him.