lovesick

He laid on the cold and wet pavement in silence, his back pressed up against the damaged and bent storefront gates of a Family Mart. His breaths were haggard, breathing in and out through the gap of his lips, his gaze fixated onto her as her exhausted figure ran towards him. Her eyebrows were creased, corners of her bloodied lip frowned, her raven hair messy and her clothes torn too. "Satoru!" She cried out to him as she got closer, crouching down to get a better view of him in his helpless state, her dirtied hand cupping his cheek while tears started to form in her grey-coloured eyes. "You're wounded..."

The war of the Jujutsu World was still ongoing. Buildings left and right were crashing, wildfires appearing out of the blue, humans running in fear for their lives while screaming on the top of their lungs as every Jujutsu clan had gone to war, fighting for power against one another, to prove one's greatness in the eyes of the so-called weak. Centuries. The war had been stretched for centuries and it showed no signs of it ever stopping any time soon. And so, after all of those years yearning for her—which, to Satoru, seemed like centuries—she still did not choose him.

Despite the havoc within the vicinity of the two, like the moon illuminating the dark skies, she had come to his rescue once again. To him, she was like his light within the darkness, her smile illuminated his world, radiating warmth and energy that seemed to chase away the dark clouds that fogged his mind. In his world, the sun was absolutely envious of her, desiring to be just like her, the brightest star within Satoru's solar system. But no, Adachihara Tsukiko was not just some measly star in his solar system, she was his entire universe.

She was the opposing side, however. For centuries, the Gojo and Adachihara clan had always different views and goals—the clans loathed each other like how Satan had once loathed Adam. He was conditioned to find her beneath him as she was nothing but the definition of the devil's spawn in his eyes, and yet, he found himself unable to tear away from her. He always found himself sneaking into the beautiful gardens of the Adachihara Estate, waiting beneath the luminescence of the moon every night for her to come out to talk to him; she lived rent-free in his mind, a thought he is unable to evict. Tsukiko never failed to make his heart race and adrenaline run through his veins; she had always been different from the others of the Adachihara Clan; a rose amongst the thorns—an ugly duckling. The two first met when they were children, and despite his hatred towards the girl (whom was nothing but a damned Adachihara), he had slowly grown to claim her within the walls of his tiny, cold heart.

"Look at me, not my wounds." He told out weakly, his voice warm and inviting. A plea, he desperately attempted to divert her attention away from his injuries to the tempest that raged within his him, his soul. Her hands were placed harshly onto his wounds, an attempt to stop the blood from oozing out of his torn skin. Her eyes flashed up to look at his fluorescent blue ones; pain, anger, despair, and discomfort filled the sea of his orbs, drowning her within them the more she fixated her gaze onto him. She grimaced, shaking her head frantically with worry.

"Why do you always have to choose the wrong battles and risk your life?" she asked him rhetorically, her hand cupping his cheek momentarily before placing it back onto her hand that was already applying pressure onto his wound. He winced slightly, but instead of pain, it inflicted a different kind of hurt that was deep within him; a sharp ache that wasn't from the physical injury itself, but rather from the words that fell from her lips, echoing in his mind.

She saw the pain and turmoil in his eyes, yet she chose to focus on the wounds and the dangers that surrounded the two, completely oblivious to the storm that had been raging inside him. Her touch was both comforting and frustrating—a cruel reminder of what he had longed for, and what he couldn't have. "Are you strong enough to stand up?" She asked him with concern lacing her tone, her head perking up and checking their surrounding area—no Jujutsu sorcerer in sight. Tsukiko's eyes turned back down to gaze at him, her eyebrows furrowed, and lips pursed in thought.