It's been months since the death of Gojo Satoru, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. While the rest of the world has moved on, one sorcerer remains stuck in her grief - Ayame. Tormented by regret over never confessing her love for Gojo, Ayame has isolat...
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The aftermath of the battle with Sukuna had left the jujutsu world in shambles. The victory came at a steep price, with countless lives lost and the landscape of sorcerer society forever changed. It was way past midnight, and most people were tucked away in their beds, dreaming of a better tomorrow. But not Ayame. Sleep had become a luxury she couldn't afford, not when her mind was constantly plagued by thoughts of him.
Gojo Satoru. The name alone was enough to send a sharp pain through her chest, a reminder of what she'd lost. It had been months since that fateful day, the day when the world lost its strongest sorcerer. The day she lost the man she loved but never had the courage to tell. She couldn't help but laugh bitterly at the irony. Ayame, a grade one sorcerer, feared nothing in this world except her own feelings.
As she wandered aimlessly through the streets, her feet instinctively led her to Jujutsu High. The place where it all began, where she first met him. Ayame remembered how annoying she found him back then, with his cocky grin and those ridiculous sunglasses. Who wears sunglasses indoors anyway? But now, she'd give anything to see that stupid grin again, to hear his voice calling out"Hey, chinchikurin!" in that annoyingly cheerful tone.
She leaned against the gate, her fingers tracing the cold metal. How many times had she walked through these gates, pretending to be irritated by his presence when in reality, her heart was doing somersaults? She closed her eyes, letting the memories wash over her. The way he'd ruffle her hair just to annoy her, how he'd always manage to find her when she was having a bad day, armed with a pun so terrible it'd make her laugh despite herself.
"You know, trespassing is still illegal, even for grade one sorcerers," a voice called out, startling her from her reverie. Ayame turned to see Shoko, her usual nonchalant expression in place. Great, just what she needed. Another reminder of how life had moved on for everyone but her.
"I'm not trespassing, I'm... reminiscing," she retorted, trying to inject some of her old fire into her voice. But it came out flat, lifeless. Just like how she felt inside.
Shoko raised an eyebrow, her gaze softening slightly. "It's been months, Ayame. You can't keep doing this to yourself. Gojo wouldn't want-"
"Don't," she cut her off, her voice sharp. "Don't tell me what he would or wouldn't want. None of you knew him like I did. None of you..." Her voice broke, the words she couldn't say hanging heavy in the air between them.
None of you loved him like I did.
Shoko sighed, "Ayame, I know it's hard. Believe me, I do. But life goes on. We have to keep moving forward. That's what being a jujutsu sorcerer is all about."
She wanted to yell at her, to tell her how easy it was for her to say that. She wanted to scream all the pent-up anger and grief she'd been bottling up for months. But instead, Ayame swallowed hard, forcing down the bitter words that threatened to spill out.
"Yeah, well, maybe I don't want to be a jujutsu sorcerer anymore."
