Our Blue Spring- Satoru Gojo x Reader

Cameras/Memories

Gojo-sensei!" The loud voice coming from down the hall could only belong to Yuji which immediately wakes Satoru up. He hadn't even noticed he fell asleep in the chair of his office. But he did wake up with the familiar feeling of a heavy chest, throbbing headache and wet stains on his cheeks from his tears. He had another dream about you, and a nightmare of the day you left, reminding him that he failed to hold onto the thing that mattered most. He may not get lots of sleep, but when he does, the images of you always play in his head, giving him hope, only to wake up alone once again.

It had been 7 years since that night. He's a teacher now, so he tries not to show his sadness whenever he's around his students. It's hard when all he wants to do is weep and cry every time he thinks about you, but he has to hide it. The last thing he needs is his students wondering why their usually "happy" teacher is all of a sudden upset.

He quickly pulls his blindfold over his eyes as Megumi and Yuji walked into the room. Yuji was holding something that looked like a camera while Megumi silently scolded him, attempting to get him to not bring up the touchy subject.

Megumi knew what it was, Satoru definitely knew what it was and he felt a chill go down his spine the moment his eyes landed on the small black device. He swallowed a lump and got up off the chair, approaching the two young sorcerers.

"What's up?" He asks, his tone cheery, contrary to the thousands of thoughts and emotions running through his head.

"Nobara and I were looking through a couple boxes scattered around the school. We found a camera with your name on it and wanted to know what it was for!" The boy spoke to his teacher with excitement coursing through his veins. He saw it as a way to finally get to know more about the man who everyone calls "The Strongest."

But Satoru saw it as a deep dive into his past, something he didn't share with anyone. The only ones who know a bit of it are Megumi, Shoko, and Suguru. Even so, he doesn't like talking about it.

Megumi shot him an apologetic look, feeling sorry for not being able to keep Yuji in check. Satoru dismissed it with a wave and small smile which threatened to fall into a frown solely at the sight of the camera.

"That? It's just an old thing I forgot I had lying around." A lie.

"It doesn't matter much." Another lie.

That camera meant everything to him. It contained almost every moment you and Satoru spent together. He loved recording the times you spent together and looking back at it in your shared bed with you tucked in comfortably at his side, giggling at the videos he would take. Never did he think he'd have to look back on those without you.

Every night after the break up he'd rewatch every video taken, swipe through every photo he couldn't bring himself to delete. He did this for about 4 years. It gave him a sense of comfort, but he'd only end up spending the entire night crying. He missed the way you'd look at him. He missed walking into the kitchen and listening to you quietly sing as you cooked breakfast. He missed immediately taking out the camera to record whenever you tried on new outfits or got your nails done and showed them off to him. He missed snapping candid photos of you when you weren't looking, setting them as his lock screen and blushing whenever he opened his phone. He was unconditionally in love with you and that would never change.

The reason why the camera has been at the school, hidden in piles of boxes instead of the nightstand on his side of the bed like it used to? It simply pained him too much to look at. He tried to move on, he really did, but he couldn't. He figured that "getting rid" of the camera would help with that, but it didn't. He just never went to go dig it out because it saved him the littlest bit of heartache.

"Does that mean I can keep it then? I've been needing a new one-" Yuji continued, but he was quickly cut off by Satoru.

"No!" That came it louder than Satoru wanted it to, startling both Yuji and Megumi. That camera was a part of his life, one that he never wanted to let go.