may flowers - gojo x reader

uncertainty

My eyes snap open. That familiar breathlessness and sinking in my stomach is back. The dream. It doesn't happen as often as it used to, but the effectiveness is always the same.

In a daze I pull the covers off, revealing my sweaty legs that somehow have goosebumps on them. I step onto the cold wooden floor.

I always tell myself I'll get floor heating, but I never do.

My own reflection greets me in the bathroom, I ignore it and splash cold water on my face, getting some in my eyes and struggling to blink it out. I wouldn't be surprised if I had the dream tonight as well, probably the night after too.

When they were really bad, I'd buy ungodly amounts of caffeine and manage to stay awake for days to avoid them, and it worked, at least for a little while. Unfortunately the taste of energy drinks is almost as bad as the dreams.

I go downstairs and order breakfast to go from the restaurant in my building, and on the way to the elevator I check my mail. They put my box on the top row and I always struggle to reach it. There's mail in it though, so after 4 tries I manage to get it out of the box.

It's a letter with a cream envelope. I flip it over, the spiral of the Jujutsu Tech emblem catching my eye. Not surprising.

I put the letter in the bag with my breakfast and walk back down the hallway, my stomach grumbling faintly. I silently wish that there'll be nobody in the elevator, and I inwardly cheer when the elevator doors open to no one. I make it back to my apartment quickly, not wanting my food to get cold.

I put the food down on my tiny dining table, sitting in the chair I always do, the two others empty and cold. Weirdly enough, the restaurant downstairs is a Japanese restaurant, the food reminding me of when I was younger.

The breakfast consists of miso, rice, and natto, which I used to hate. I eat my breakfast in silence, blankly staring at the painting on the wall.

Two koi fish, symbols of perseverance.

It feels wrong to have that painting hung up.

I glance away, and my eyes fall on the letter. I pick it up, my mouth full of rice, and start to open it. The letter was written on washi paper, with a brush and ink as well; very typical of Jujutsu Tech. I skim over the letter,

it reads:

"Dearest L/N Y/N,"

I roll my eyes.

"We are aware of your achievements and successes as a rogue sorcerer, and we'd love to invite you to Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College with interest in joining our staff.Teaching positions are specifically needed, as sorcerers of your caliber are impossible to find. The job would be full time, focusing on giving extra support to students who need it-"

I'm about to close the letter when a number catches my eye, I go back and read the sentence leading to it.

"Salary starting at 2,500,000 yen per month."

...

I read it again, and then again. There's no way.

2.5 million yen per month?!

That's like 30 million per year!

I read it again.

Starting at?!

My eyes stay glued on that number. It's not that I'm struggling all that much with my current salary, but 2.5 million a month... I like the sound of that.

I slap myself in the face.

What am I thinking? I'm not going to give up that easily...

A new car... takeout every night...

No.

I put the letter down and throw out the food containers. I go back into the bathroom to take a shower. The water runs down my face, the sound of it drowning out my thoughts.

Steam rises into the air, just like the money in my bank account would...

I need to stop. I left for a reason.

...But don't I kind of want to go? Aren't I tired of being alone? Doesn't it feel like it's getting harder and harder to get out of bed in the morning?

The water keeps running, it feels heavier now.

Maybe I need a change. I'm just not sure that I'm ready for it.

It's not like I have to accept the job though, right? I can just check it out, and if it doesn't work out I can spend some time in Tokyo.

I turn the shower off. Once I decide that I'm dry enough I step into my bedroom and land on my bed.

Towel wrapped around me, I lean over to grab my phone and hesitantly find a travel website. It takes a few minutes to actually find flights from Seoul to Tokyo that aren't full, but eventually I find one flying out tomorrow night.

A feeling of anxious excitement starts in me, I don't know what to think about it.

Planning isn't my forte, and I don't know how long I'll be in Tokyo for, so packing will be a pain in the ass. I don't even have a suitcase.

I spent most of the day buying stuff that I might need, obviously a suitcase, travel bags, converted my Won to Yen. I get back home late, but the buzz of excitement won't let me fall asleep. I end up packing until I fall asleep on the floor at 4:00 am, getting a full 2 hours of sleep.

By the time I get to the airport I've repacked at least 3 times. It's unlike me to be this nervous, I don't usually care all that much.

Security is easy despite how busy the airport is, but at least I'm not traveling in the middle of the day. Once I get to my gate I slump down in one of the last chairs available.

The familiar smell of airplane fills my senses as I find my seat beside the window, I lucked out. My stomach does little flips whenever the plane rumbles on the runway, the feeling amplified as the plane takes off, the innumerous buildings and streets of Seoul growing so small, the Han river stretching into the horizon.

I can't help but think of how peaceful it is up here. The clouds greet me as the altitude mounts higher and higher, and the world is lost in a fog. Only then do I realize how tired I am, and I close my eyes.

...

A face. A familiar face, it's smiling at me, but there's something under it... Hurt, or maybe melancholy. I've never actually seen that smile with my own eyes, but I've imagined it perfectly. A tear runs down his cheek, and I reach out to wipe it, but my arm is held back by some unknown force. As hard as I try to reach him, my arm won't move, and I watch as he fades from view.

I wake up uncomfortably from my sleep, blinking a few times while registering what I had seen. This might be harder than I thought.