Shattered | Gojo Satoru

𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 : 𝓉𝓌𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓎-𝒻𝒾𝓋𝑒

The atmosphere inside is tense. Everyone is focused on their tasks, working tirelessly to track down the source of the threat, but an unspoken anxiety looms in the air. The hum of computers and the occasional click of keys is broken only by Gojo's phone, buzzing incessantly.

Another message. Another missed call.

Gojo's hand twitches as his phone vibrates again in his pocket, Miyu's name flashing on the screen. He squeeze his eyes shut, fighting the overwhelming urge to pick it up, to hear her voice, to find some comfort in her words.

But he doesn't. He couldn't. He promised Yaga he'd stay, that he wouldn't let himself be lured into a potential trap. Yet with every unanswered call, every unopened message, his heart aches a little more, cracking under the weight of the pain and uncertainty.

He stands in the middle of the room, rigid, his eyes locked on the large display screen showing the search progress. The team continues their work around him, heads down, as if pretending they couldn't hear the relentless buzz of his phone or feel the suffocating tension building inside him.

Another call. Miyu's name appears on the screen once more.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Gojo doesn't move.

His hand balls into a fist at his side. Each ring feels like a punch to his gut, each buzz like a reminder of his failure to protect her. He couldn't let himself give in, no matter how much it tore him apart. His thoughts raced. Is it really her? Or are they playing me?

The phone went silent for a brief moment, only to buzz again as another message came through.

[Miyu]
Satoru, please...

He could picture her, tears streaking her face, her voice breaking with every word. He could hear the desperation in her cries, feel the tremble in her breath as she begs for him. But still, he doesn't look. He couldn't afford to. Not now.

The room feels too small, the walls closing in on him with every ring, every vibration. His hands trembles, his heart pounding against his chest. His face, usually calm and collected, is now tight with frustration and pain. The others around him notice, glancing at him nervously but knowing better than to say anything.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. The vibrations rattles against the silence, cutting through his resolve like a blade.

"Gojo..." It is Nanami's voice, quiet but firm, as he glanced up from his workstation. "You should step out if you need to. This isn't doing you any good."

Gojo shakes his head, his voice cold and unsteady. "I'm fine," he lied. His throat is tight, and the words feel like shards of glass cutting through him.

Nanami's brow furrows in concern, but he doesn't push further. They all know what is happening—the messages, the calls—but they also know Gojo has to make his own choice. No one could force him to look away from the torment his phone was subjecting him to.

Gojo's phone rings again, and this time, the vibration feels deafening. The room, the team, everything seems to fade away as Miyu's name flashes on the screen for what feels like the thousandth time.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

He closed his eyes, swallowing the agony that threatens to tear him apart. He couldn't give in. He wouldn't.

He clenched his jaw, his body stiffening as he fights the internal battle raging inside him. His heart scream for him to answer, to listen, to believe that it is really her. But his mind, fractured and barely holding onto reason, keep him frozen in place.

What if it's her? The thought echoes relentlessly in his mind, cruel and unyielding. What if she's out there, waiting for me? What if I don't go, and I lose her for good?

The phone went silent again, and for a moment, he feels a brief flicker of relief. But it doesn't last. The buzzing returns almost immediately, another message. Another plea.

[Miyu]
I'm not lying, Satoru. I'm begging you, please...

Gojo swallows hard, his hand twitching with the urge to reach for his phone, to read the words, to hear her voice. But he forced himself to ignore it. He has to stay strong, has to trust his team, has to believe in their mission.

But it hurt. God, it hurt so much.

He could feel the eyes of his comrades on him—Nanami, Shoko, Yaga—all of them aware of the storm raging inside him, but none daring to speak. They respect his decision, even if they could see how much it is tearing him apart.

The phone buzzed again, the messages coming in like a relentless tide, threatening to drown him in their sorrow.

[Miyu]
Please, come home.

[Miyu]
I'm not playing games. I need you.

[Miyu]
If you don't believe me, I'll die for you. I swear it.

Gojo's breath caught in his throat. His vision blurry as the words from her messages swim in his mind. Every fiber of his being wants to believe her, to trust her. But the doubt—oh, the doubt—it gnaws at him like a festering wound, leaving him raw and vulnerable.

Another call. Another vibration.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

The tears that has been threatening to fall finally brims in his eyes, but he blinks them back, swallowing the lump in his throat. He couldn't afford to break. Not now. Not when so much is at stake.

He grits his teeth, willing himself to stay strong, to ignore the constant barrage of calls and messages. But it is a losing battle, each ring, each vibration chipping away at his resolve.

Miyu's voice echoes in his mind, her cries replaying over and over again, haunting him with every second that passed.

Come back to me.

The words are like daggers, piercing his heart with every repetition. He wants nothing more than to go to her, to hold her, to protect her. But he know he couldn't.

Not yet.

The phone buzzed again, and Gojo closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he fight the urge to answer. The pain of ignoring her is almost unbearable, but he has to believe—has to hope—that staying here, with his team, is the right choice.

For now.

But as the minutes drags on, and the messages continue to pour in, the uncertainty only grows stronger.

Would he regret this? Would he lose her because of this?

Only time would tell.