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« You've always believed yourself to be invincible. The strongest. You held onto that title, wielded it with confidence, with arrogance, even. Nothing could touch you—until now. »
The world around you is dimming. Everything is muffled, and you can feel your body growing heavier with each passing second. Blood seeps from the gaping wound in your chest, but that pain is distant now, almost irrelevant. What hurts more is the thought of your death.
You had told yourself you wouldn't think of them. That, at this moment, you would be focused. You would face death as you had faced everything else—with a smirk, with unshakable pride. But as the life drains from your body, you can't stop your thoughts from drifting to them.
You.
You didn't deserve this. You never signed up for this life—this cruel, cursed existence filled with death and loss. You should've never been dragged into the chaos that surrounds you. And yet, you stayed. You stayed by their side, even though they warned you, even though they told you to leave while you could. But you wouldn't. Stubborn as always.
[ readers POV ]
"This.. has to be the only time you gotta let me catch up." You had said, your voice firm but gentle, your eyes filled with something far too pure for someone like yourself.
He remember how you had always mocked his catchphrase, "As if anyone could keep up with me."
„ But now, you're not here. You're somewhere far away—safe, I hope. You won't see this. You won't witness my downfall. That's good. You don't need to see me like this, broken, bleeding, defeated. „
[ GOJO POV ]
The thought gnaws at you, twisting like a knife in your gut, more painful than the injuries that have brought you to this moment. You know how much they've lost already. Losing you... what will it do to them? Will they hate you for leaving? For not being able to keep the promise you never made but should have?
I should have said it. I should've told you.
You swallow hard, though your throat is dry, your breaths shallow. It's getting harder to stay here, harder to hold on. But there's one last thing you need to do, one final thought that clings to you with a desperation you haven't felt in years. You need to say it, even if you're not sure they'll ever hear it.
"I'm sorry," you whisper, though the words are barely audible. The world is closing in now—darkness creeping in at the edges of your vision. You can feel your heart slowing, the familiar hum of your cursed energy flickering, weakening.
Your vision is hazy now, the edges blurring, but in the center of it all, you see them—your last memory of them. The way they smiled, their laughter echoing faintly in your ears. It makes your chest tighten, a strange warmth spreading through the cold creeping into your limbs.
You never told them. You never let yourself say it because saying it would've made it real, and real things break. And now, you're the one breaking.
The weight of your regrets presses down on you, heavier than the battlefield debris. You want to hold on just a little longer—to see their face, to hear their voice, to tell them everything—but you know that you can't.
Your time is slipping away, and with it, any chance you had to make things right.
"I should've been there more," you rasp, the words catching in your throat, barely a breath now. "I should've told you..."
It's too late.
You were always so focused on protecting them from the outside world, from the dangers of curses, from the weight of your own burdens, that you forgot the simplest, most human thing: being with them. You were so caught up in being strong, in being the strongest, that you never let yourself just be Satoru with them. Just Sata—not Satoru Gojo, not a sorcerer, not the invincible.
You feel your heart stutter, each beat weaker than the last. The light around you is almost gone now, and with it, so are you. But before everything fades, one last thought rises to the surface—one last, desperate plea to the universe.
"I loved you," you murmur into the nothingness, your voice little more than a ghost of a whisper. "I'm sorry I never told you."
And then, it's over.
The world fades to black. There's no more pain, no more noise. Just the quiet, the emptiness.
Maybe, wherever you're going, they'll know. Maybe somehow, they'll feel it—your love, your regret, your apology.
« Maybe, in the end, that's enough. »
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