Shattered | Gojo Satoru

𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 : 𝓉𝓌𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓎-𝑒𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉

Time stretches thin, each second feeling like an eternity for Gojo as he sits at the edge of his patience, phone clutched tightly in his hand. He has been staring at the screen for what feels like hours, waiting—hoping—for something. A sign. A message. Anything that would break the endless, suffocating silence.

The sky outside Jujutsu High is still dark, the stars veiled behind thick clouds, as if the universe itself is holding its breath alongside him. His fingers tremble slightly, the weight of uncertainty pressing down harder than ever.

Then, like a jolt of electricity through his veins, his phone rings.

For a brief, heart-stopping moment, Gojo can't bring himself to move. His breath catches in his throat as he stares at the caller ID, his heart pounding in his chest. Miyu.

It's her.

Gojo answers the call with a swipe of his thumb, his voice catching in his throat before he manages to speak. "Miyu?"

There's a pause on the other end, and then her voice comes through—soft, trembling, but unmistakably hers. "Satoru..."

Hearing her voice after all this time sends a rush of relief through him, but it's quickly tempered by the undercurrent of something else. Something darker. There's pain in her tone, a deep ache that Gojo can't ignore.

"Miyu," he breathes, the knot in his chest loosening slightly. "Where are you? Are you okay? I—"

"Do you doubt me?" she interrupts, her voice sharp, tinged with a hurt that cuts straight through him.

Gojo blinks, taken aback. "What? No, of course not. I—"

"Then why aren't you with me?" Miyu's words come fast now, her tone wavering between desperation and anger. "Why aren't you here, Satoru? Why did you leave me alone?"

Gojo's throat tightens. He struggles to find the right words, the right way to explain everything that's been happening—the uncertainty, the chaos, the fear that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't really her calling. But the raw emotion in her voice, the anguish lacing every word, makes it impossible to think clearly.

"I'm trying to find you," Gojo says, his voice strained. "We've been searching for you, Miyu. I—"

"Then why do I feel so alone?" she asks quietly, her voice suddenly small, fragile. "Why do I feel like you've given up on me?"

Gojo feels a sharp pang in his chest, like someone's driving a knife straight through his heart. "Miyu, I haven't given up. I swear to you, I'm doing everything I can to get to you."

There's another pause, and then Miyu's voice returns, softer now but filled with a bitterness that wasn't there before. "Do you remember the night we spent on the rooftop of that old apartment, watching the stars?" she asks, her tone laced with nostalgia.

Gojo's breath catches. Of course, he remembers. It was a night from years ago, long before the weight of the Jujutsu world had fully settled on his shoulders. Just the two of them, lying side by side on an old blanket, staring up at the sky as they shared quiet moments that belonged only to them.

"You said the stars reminded you of fireflies," Miyu continues, her voice wavering. "That if you could, you'd catch them all and keep them in a jar just for me."

Gojo closes his eyes, the memory as vivid as if it had just happened. "I remember," he says softly.

"And do you remember the time we got lost in the city?" Miyu presses, her voice growing more urgent now. "We wandered around for hours, laughing because neither of us knew where we were going, but we didn't care because we were together?"