12 Roses

23 | Forgotten Pictures

You poked your head into Tsumiki's hospital room and furrowed your brow before putting your hearing aid into your ears again. "Gojo..?"

The man looked away from the bed and smiled. "Ah, Y/N! You're earlier than usual. Sorry, I'll leave you two—"

"You can stay." You returned the smile, although it felt odd to do it in such a place.

The scent of the flowers from the week before wafted through the air and you couldn't help but think about the flower shop. A place you hadn't seen in ages.

You sat on the chair on the side of the bed and brought a knee up to your chest, staring at Tsumiki, as if scared you'd forget her face.

Gojo watched the flower wither as grief filled your eyes, but you did well to hide away everything else. He had never heard you yell, not until the day Tsumiki was admitted to the hospital. He wondered how much you were holding in.

"Y'know," Gojo started, earning your gaze. "I remember when you and Tsumiki were just little girls and you'd always ask me to drive you places. She always asked me if she could go to your house, even if it was so late that the stars were out."

His hand hesitated to touch your back.

"I should drive you somewhere... when she wakes up."

You were quick to stand and bury your face in his chest, never having learned what your crying face looked like. You were used to never actually feeling anything when you grazed against him, but this time, you felt the fabric of his clothes, his arms placing themselves around you.

The feeling of a person wasn't entirely unfamiliar to Gojo, but the feeling of your trembling figure was like the first time feeling an earthquake, with the last time he felt a person against him being...

"Sorry," you said, beginning to back up.

He pulled you back in. "Don't be."

Your brows raised. "I didn't know you were the type for hugs, Gojo."

"I was."

"Mm... So was I."

•••

Tears carved rivers through your cheeks and dripped down the sides of your face, yet you couldn't figure out what was upsetting you at all.

You wiped away the remnants of grief on your face and lied on your bed.

Gojo was never more than a teacher to you, but suddenly you felt like he was more at some point. Not that you believed you could forget such a character.

You slipped out of bed and started getting ready for school.

•••

As class came to a close, you told the others to go on without you and you approached Gojo's desk, where he sat with his legs wide apart, reading over something.

Your eyes travelled to the photo on his desk of him, Suguru, and Nurse Ieri. A small world, it was, for your high school teacher to know your town's local tattoo artist.

He looked away from the thing he was reading. "What's up?"

Your hands stopped and it felt like you were stuttering, knowing exactly what to say yet not knowing at all. "Well... I was wondering... do you know someone named Tsumiki? Tsumiki... Fushiguro?"