Dark Resolutions | Geto Suguru x Reader |

Epilogue

Years had passed since the world had changed forever. The Jujutsu society, once a beacon of hope and terror, was no more. The era of curses had ended, leaving behind a quiet world where sorcerers had slowly integrated into normal life. The streets were peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos of the past, and each day seemed to bring a little more normalcy, a little more calm.

The soft hum of traffic outside the window seemed distant and irrelevant. Inside the classroom, the air was thick with the quiet murmurs of students turning pages and the rustle of notebooks. Miyako stood at the front of the room, poised with a stack of papers in one hand and a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. She was discussing a piece of classic literature on romance, her passion for the subject evident in her animated gestures and the warmth of her voice.

"Romance, in its purest form," she explained, "is a mirror to the human soul. It reflects our deepest fears and desires, and in doing so, it can heal and hurt us in ways we cannot always predict."

A student's hand shot up, and Miyako nodded, inviting the question. "Yes?"

The student, a shy girl with wide, inquisitive eyes, hesitated for a moment before asking, "Have you ever been in love, Sensei?"

The question hung in the air, and for a heartbeat, the classroom fell silent. Miyako paused, her fingers lingering on the page as she searched for the right words. The classroom, once filled with the buzz of eager discussion, now seemed eerily silent. Miyako's eyes, once so full of life and resolve, clouded over with a mixture of sorrow and wistfulness.

"I once thought I knew what love was," Miyako said softly, her gaze drifting to the window, where the sunlight cast a serene glow over the world outside. "But sometimes, even when you find love, it doesn't always turn out the way you hope. Love is complicated, messy, and often fleeting. Sometimes, it leaves a mark that never quite heals."

A hushed silence fell over the room. The students, sensing the depth of her words, looked at her with a newfound respect. 

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Miyako packed her things with a mechanical precision. Her heart, though heavy, was steadfast in its resolve. She walked through the bustling hallways, the faces of her students blending into a blur of youthful energy. With each step, the weight of her decision grew more palpable.

Outside, the sky was a canvas of orange and pink, the day's light fading into a soft twilight. Miyako made her way to the familiar, now-quiet street that led to Geto's house. It had been years since she had last walked this path, but the memories were as vivid as ever.

She approached the house, its once-proud structure now a relic of a past era. The garden, where they had shared their first kiss, was overgrown but still held a certain tranquil beauty. The air was filled with the scent of wildflowers and the faint, lingering warmth of the sun. Miyako slowly walked to the garden, her heart aching with every step.

She sank onto the weathered wooden bench beneath the old oak tree, her hands clutching a bouquet of fresh flowers. The scent of the blossoms mingled with the faint aroma of the earth, creating a fragrance that was both comforting and melancholic. She closed her eyes, letting the memories wash over her.

Geto's voice, tender and full of love, seemed to echo through the garden. The way he had looked at her, the gentle touch of his hand, and the way he had made her feel cherished—all these moments played like a film in her mind. It was a beautiful film, but one that had an ending she could never change.

With a heavy heart, Miyako rose from the bench and walked slowly to the grave that lay beneath the old oak tree. The headstone, though worn with time, still bore the name that had once meant so much to her. She knelt before it, placing the bouquet gently at its base. The flowers, vibrant and alive, seemed to contrast starkly with the cold stone of the grave.

"I miss you," Miyako whispered, her voice barely audible. "I miss everything about you. The way you laughed, the way you loved. I never thought it would end like this."

Her fingers traced the engraved name, as if hoping to feel a connection, a whisper of his presence. The wind rustled through the leaves, creating a soothing murmur that seemed almost like a response. Miyako's tears fell freely, mingling with the fallen petals of the flowers.

She sat there for what felt like hours, lost in her grief and her memories. The sky darkened, and the first stars began to appear, their faint light a reminder of the vastness of the universe and the small, precious moments that make up a life.

Standing up, Miyako took one last, lingering look at the grave before turning to leave. As she walked away, the night enveloping her in its quiet embrace, she felt a profound sense of peace settle over her. It was as though the garden, the house, and everything it represented were finally letting her go.

The final rays of sunlight painted the sky with hues of gold and crimson, casting a gentle glow over the garden. Miyako's heart, though heavy with sorrow, was also filled with a sense of acceptance.

And as she took a deep breath, a final, poignant thought crossed her mind:

Some loves are meant to be remembered, not relived. It's in the remembering that we find a part of them still alive.