Ataraxia 平静 | Gojo Satoru

-'๑'-𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒𝟔-'๑'-

Chaos reigned my mind as I teetered on the brink of consciousness. Flashes of memories, both mine and foreign, flickered like shattered glass, seeping back slowly, like a relentless tide.

It hurt. Everything stung and hurt.

Faces I didn't recognize, voices speaking in strange tongues—then a scream, so wrenching and agonizing, it plucked at my heartstrings. I was lost in a whirlpool of sights and sounds, disjointed and maddeningly incoherent.

Golden orbs, scales of silver and black, the sensation of wings slicing through the air—none of it made sense. My thoughts were now fragments, half-formed and fleeting, as though I were grasping at smoke. Words echoed in my mind, empty and haunting.

"Why would you. . . all. . . ruin. . ." A tangle of contempt and sorrow echoed in my mind.

". . .cannot forsake. . ."

A voice I recognized, yet could not name.

"Blinded. . . love. . . by mortals?" The words lashed through me like a whip. "Fleeting. . ."

The ground ached. I couldn't know why, yet I felt it. I looked down, seeing not my own feet but ivory skin and frozen grass.

"Not like us. . . not scorned. . ." another voice rang out. I looked up—forest green eyes and a tempest of black.

Blood.

"You're a fool!" I screamed, my voice suddenly clear. My throat burned. But it wasn't my throat, nor my voice. "You betray us! You betray yourself!"

". . .not betrayal. . . calling. . . understand. . ." the dark one's voice softened, a note of pleading.

Black scales shifted and melted, scarred skin molding into breath.

Rage, sadness, and an overwhelming heat surged through me—emotions that were not mine yet consumed me, smothering my very soul.

His blood was dearer to me than my own. Then why? Why did I hate him? Why was he smiling?

Why did his eyes burn so fiercely when he looked at me?

He was a mess of ebony hair, salt-burnt eyes, and bitten lips; battered in a way only he could be.

"You'll blame your heart, and they. . . They'll blame their gods. . ." I whispered, my fangs sinking into soft skin.

He pointed at the moon, but I was looking at his hand.

Fool, fool, fool.

"For as long. . . exist. . . you will always be. . . loved," he said, rust on his face, in his throat, in his lungs. "Always," his voice was clearer, ". . . brother."

The sky shattered with a deafening crack, leaving me gasping for breath. Pain lanced through every inch of my body as consciousness began to seep back in, like the scrape of an old, dented blade.

The darkness clouding my mind started to lift, replaced by the sharp clarity of burning muscles and the distant sound of footsteps against stone. The air was thick with the scent of blood and iron.

It hurt.

I blinked, disoriented, and found myself draped over broad shoulders, my arms dangling uselessly. Each step jostled my bruised body, but it was the sudden rush of memory that made my heart stutter in my chest. Red eyes, the fight, my father—death.

Yuji.

Fear clenched my heart, a burst of adrenaline cutting through the haze of pain. He was hurt—no, worse than hurt. He was dying. Panic surged through me, driving away the lingering fog of my mind.