Ephemeral || Geto Suguru

0

2017

"He's no longer the person we used to know," the white-haired man dictated, his voice stern and cold. "Let that sink in, (Y/N)."

The warm summer breeze rendered useless at the rigidness of the air brushing against your skin. Nothing but the faint sound of your beating heart accompanies you inside the room in which you know you will be slapped by the harsh, rigid truth in a matter of minutes.

Gojo Satoru, the renowned strongest Jujutsu sorcerer and the friend you trusted most, stood in front of the window, his cold back facing you. His hands were inside his pockets, his blindfolded eyes staring into the empty school grounds of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

Tokyo Jujutsu High. A place you used to hold close and dear to your heart yet now only shatters it into millions of pieces at every memory of the familiar halls, rooms, and corners you see every single day. Along with it, the ghost of the memory of the only man you have ever loved, haunting you relentlessly. The same man whom you can no longer have.

You were here every single day, and constantly, you are reminded of the pain that had begun torturing you ten years ago.

The tears, the betrayal, and the broken promises.

You allow a forced chuckle to escape your lips in hopes that Gojo would fall for the facade of an indifferent person you were playing. In hopes that he will somehow believe that the impending death of the man you once loved does not bother you.

How you wish you actually felt that way.

"You think I don't know that, Toru?" you press your calloused palms onto the table you were leaning on. "Execute him or whatnot, I don't care. I no longer care."

Lies.

You were getting good at it. From the day a certain dark-haired boy had chosen to tear your soul apart, you have gotten used to spitting nothing but lies to comfort the ones who have shown concern for you. Convincing those who cared for you that you are okay and doing fine just as you are. At some point, you have somehow convinced yourself that perhaps if you pretended not to care–if you pretended that you no longer loved him anymore–it will, one day, become the truth.

Yet no matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you lied, he still grasps your aching heart.

Your lies might work like magic on others but not to Gojo Satoru, no. He has known you since the day you were born. He has been by your side through it all. Through everything. If there was someone else in the depths of the Earth who might have an idea of just how you truly felt, it would be him.

He was his one and only best friend, after all.

"You know you hurt me when you lie to me, right?" Gojo half-heartedly joked.

Your eyes shift from the cement ground to the man by the window at his sudden movement. Gojo now faced you, a half yet genuine smile etched upon his face.

"But I'm serious, (Y/N). I'll take care of everything. Just please don't get in the way."

Oftentimes, you find yourself wondering where it all began going wrong. That if only you had paid closer attention, would you have been able to stop his wicked ambition? Could you have possibly known when the idea splurged into his mind and talked him out of it? If only you were there when he was falling apart, would he have chosen you? If you had shown him how much you meant to him and just how much you have loved him, would he have stopped?

Would your love have been enough?

Was your love not enough?

Was it truly not enough to make him stay?

And as if all the thoughts that have been drowning you were not enough, fragments of the time you spent with him came crashing down inside your head.

The day you had first met him, the way the wrinkles appear at the corner of his chestnut eyes when he smiles, the way his face lit up every time he saw you, how your hands intertwined, the softness of his hair whenever you caressed it, how your lips fit perfectly with one another as if you two were one another's missing piece, the first time he confessed his love for you, the late night sneaking into your dorm, and how you would plan your future to come underneath the starry sky.

Oh, how ironic all those silly little plans of yours were.

How naive you were.

Back then, everything was fine. The universe was on your side. Or at least, that was what you thought. But now, it makes you think, was the universe ever really on your side?

Or was it always planning your cowardly downfall?

"(Y/N), do you understand?" Gojo repeats but you were too deep in thought to hear.

Was any of it even real? Was it just a play-pretend high school love?

Did he even really love you?

The air suddenly seemed too thick–too hostile. Your breathing turned into short, shallow gasps, your chest rising and falling rapidly as if the weight of the memories threatened to suffocate you. Questions that have plagued you over the years repeating inside your head.

"(Y/N)?"

No matter how hard you try to find an answer, there is none. No matter how desperate you are to make him stay by your side, he is beyond that point. He is beyond saving. Gojo had told you that over and over and over again all throughout the years. Yet each time, you fool yourself. You comfort yourself with lies.

No matter how much you want for him to call for your name again, to engulf you in his arms again, and to tell you that everything will be just fine–these are just mere, empty, nonsensical wishes.

You can never have any of that ever again.

Not anymore.

For Geto Suguru, the man you have loved, walked down a path you could no longer follow.

There really was nothing else you could do.

He's not coming back.

Gulping down whatever was left in your parched throat, your breathing slowed down. You squeeze your eyes closed for a brief moment and all you could see was your once beloved's face. However painful, that wasn't enough to stop you from bringing your eyes to meet Gojo's blindfolded ones.

"I understand, Toru." your voice was eerily calm. "I won't get in your way."

A sharp sigh left Gojo's lips.

"Alright, that's all I needed to hear. Thanks for your time, love."

Love.

It was an endearment between you two that went way back. Something that serves as your constant in this ever-changing, merciless world.

"I'll see you around, Toru. I–" your back now faced him as you stood in front of the door. "Please take care of Suguru."

Without another word, you left Gojo Satoru all by himself.

As the heels of your boots echo through the awfully familiar halls of Tokyo Jujutsu High, your frail lips quiver with your teeth sunk into your lower lip. You were trying to hold back the warm tears slowly forming at the rim of your tired eyes.

Silently, in your heart, you were uttering words like an oath. A silent prayer that may all of this just be an awfully bad dream and that sooner or later, you will be waking up. Perhaps wake up in the comfort of one's familiar arms just like in the old days.

Surely, things are just as difficult and painful for Gojo as it was for you, if not more. The laughter you had all shared along with Shoko, the trips to the arcade, the midnight strolls, the silly pranks–he was there too–they were there too.

Finally letting yourself succumb to the endless torment, warm tears began racing down your cheeks. You stop in your tracks, leaning your hand against a wall to retain your balance.

How did it all come to this?