Shattered | Gojo Satoru

𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 : 𝓉𝓌𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓎

The early morning light was a dim, sallow hue, creeping slowly into the room through the narrow windows of the command center. Exhaustion hangs over the team like a dense fog. Every face is a mask of fatigue , but beneath it, a fierce determination glint in their eyes. They are operating on adrenaline and the sheet force of will to bring Miyu back. The phone call from the mysterious voice has only heightened their sense of urgency, yet left them with more questions than answers.

Gojo stood at the center, his posture taut, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He has barely had a moment to process the call before his instincts kicked in, urging him to act. But something feels off — a gnawing feeling at the pit of his stomach, a sense that not everything is as it seems. He knows Miyu better than anyone. If she is in danger, she wouldn't be so calm, so composed. His mind replays the words of the unknown caller over and over, each time trying to extract some hidden meaning or clue.

His fingers tremble slightly as he reached for his phone, the weight of his anxiety making the device feel heavier than it is. He stares at the screen, at the familiar contact name that has brought him so much joy and solace in the past. He takes a deep breath, then exhales slowly. His thumb hovers over the call button. He needs to hear her voice — needs to know that she is truly okay.

The phone rings once, twice, three times. Each ring feels like an eternity, stretching the tension tighter and tighter. Then, finally, a click, and the line connects.

"Hello, Satoru."

Her voice is soft, almost melodic. The warmth of it is like a balm to his frayed nerves. But something about it is unsettling. It is too calm, too steady. He could almost see her smile on the other side, the way she always does when she is trying to reassure him, but there is no fear, no urgency. His heart pounding against his ribs.

"Miyu... where are you?" Gojo asked, his voice betraying a hint of desperation he felt.

"I'm home, Satoru. I'm back at my apartment," she replied. There is an eerier serenity in her tone. "I've been waiting for you to come back to me."

Gojo frowns. "Home? Miyu, just a few hours ago, you were—" He paused, uncertain how to phrase it. "You were scared. What's going on?"

There is a soft chuckle on the other end. "I was, but I'm okay now. I'm safe. Come back to me, Satoru. Let's just forget about everything else and be together. Isn't that what we wanted?"

He hesitate, his grip on the phone tightening. It sounds like Miyu, her voice filled with that familiar tenderness. But how could her mood shift so drastically in such a short time? Something isn't adding up. His mind racing, considering all the possibilities the dangers, the tricks his enemies could employ. He has to be sure.

"Miyu," he said cautiously, "remember that night on the rooftop? When it was just the two of us, under the stars?"

There is a brief silence, a pause that feels too calculated. Then, she answers, "Yes, I remember. It was the first time you told me about your fears, about what it means to be who you are. You said it made you feel human, vulnerable."

She recites it perfectly, word for word, capturing the intimacy of that moment — their secret. But even as she speaks, a chill run down Gojo's spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. This is Miyu. He knows her. He loves her. But the voice on the other end, as familiar as it is, also feels like a carefully crafted illusion. His instincts scream at him that something is terribly wrong.

"Miyu," he said slowly, his voice low and cautious, "I need you to tell me something else. Something only you would know." He chose his words carefully, probing for any hint of deception. "Do you remember what I whispered to you right before we left that night?"