Ataraxia 平静 | Gojo Satoru

-'๑'-𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟗-'๑'-

"Do it slower," Geto instructed, adjusting my stance with precision.

"As if it's that simple," I retorted, swatting his hands away with a frustrated pout.

With a disapproving click of his tongue, Geto swiftly dropped to one knee, swiping my feet from the ground in a swift movement. I stumbled with a revolted yelp, my elbows colliding with the padded floor.

Hours had passed since we first entered the gym, focusing on refining my balance and honing my shadow constructs—or rather, Geto was helping me while I struggled to keep up. The much-needed nap I had yearned for remained a broken dream, my only break being a quick change into my training clothes before being whisked away.

I sprawled on the ground, my head drooping between my hands in exasperation.

"What was that for?!" I whined, shooting him a glare while wiping sweat from my forehead. Strands of damp hair broke free from their binding, clinging to my skin and making me scowl.

Geto circled me like a predator stalking wounded prey, his gaze assessing me with a critical eye. "You're not focusing," he stated matter-of-factly.

I rolled my eyes at his antics. "Why are you so serious, all of the sudden?"

"I want you to improve."

"Perhaps it would go smoother if you went a bit easier on me," I suggested, irony lacing my words.

He snorted, kneeling in front of me and flashing a wry smile. "Darling, I am going easy on you."

With a heavy sigh, I adjusted my position to sit cross-legged, facing him. "I'm just not in the mood to train."

"What are you in the mood for, then?" he inquired, folding his arms across his chest.

I freed one of my legs and playfully jabbed at his ankles, causing him to drop to the floor. I knew he allowed it.

"Nothing, really," I admitted, slouching my shoulders.

Mirroring my stance, Geto studied me quietly.

When another minute passed, he finally broke the silence. "What happened between you and Gojo these past couple of days?"

My brows shot up at his question. "What do you mean?" I tried to brush it off, drawing invisible patterns on my thigh.

"Yue," Geto lowered his violet eyes to my level.

I sighed, leaning my head back. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Fair enough," he replied, rising to his feet.

"What are you doing?" I blurted out.

"If you don't feel like talking, then let's continue training," he said casually.

I knew better than to fall for his trap.

"Seriously?" I deadpanned.

"Talk to me, or train—your choice, Pebble."

I groaned, feeling my muscles tense.

"Sit down," I muttered, crossing my arms.

He dropped almost instantly, a smug grin plastered on his face.

I rolled my eyes. "We. . . had a lot to talk about," I began tentatively.

"Such as?"

"It wasn't pretty, let's just say that."

Geto cocked a brow, eyeing me carefully. Then a mix of surprise and concern flashed across his features. "Oh."

I pursed my lips, nodding. "Yeah. . . well, Gojo clarified a lot of things for me."