The Waning (GojoHime) - Part 2

A Dream

"Gojo Satoru, wake up!"

The voice echoed from somewhere far away, faint yet insistent, urging him from the depths of sticky darkness.

Obediently, his eyes fluttered open. The world around him was a blur of muted colors and indistinct shapes. His mind felt clouded too, like he was swimming through thick fog. Gojo blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. Weird dreams... they were already slipping away, their strange images fading but... holy moly, that shit had felt real!

"Where am I?" he mumbled, his voice scratchy and unfamiliar to his own ears, as though it belonged to someone else.

Silence greeted him.

Gojo blinked again, and slowly, the surroundings started to take shape. He was in a white room, the walls bare except for some old-fashioned floral curtains hanging by a small window. They swayed slightly, as if a faint breeze passed through. It seemed to be a pleasant day outside.

"Huh," he muttered, and as he moved to sit up, he noticed the sensation of cold plastic tubes running into his arm. He looked down, realizing he was hooked up to several medical machines. An IV drip hung beside him, connected to his wrist. Heart monitors and electrodes clung to his chest, their steady beeping the only sound in the otherwise eerie stillness.

Before he could make sense of it all, an alarm blared sharply, triggered by his sudden movement. His heart rate had spiked, and the medical equipment responded in a flurry of noise. He glanced at the monitor in mild panic, its erratic lines tracing the chaos of his reawakening. How could that bloody thing be made to shut up?!

Mere moments later, the door to the room burst open. A petite nurse rushed in, the fabric of her light blue scrubs rustling as she hurried toward him, her eyes wide behind wire-rimmed glasses.

"You're awake!" She quickly silenced the beeping machine before her gaze darted back to him. "You need to stay still," she instructed, her tone firm but not unkind. "You've been in a coma—don't try to move too fast."

She checked the IV attached to his arm and adjusted the leads on his chest with steady, experienced hands.

"How are you feeling? Can you speak?" she asked, her eyes scanning his face.

"Yes?" Gojo answered, utterly bewildered by the fact that he was in a hospital—a non-sorcerer hospital—and that he was spoken to like a child... he was the strongest sorcerer alive after all!

"Where is Utahime?" He blurted out. Surely she wouldn't just leave him alone in such an unpleasant place?

The nurse's brow furrowed at Gojo's question, her hands pausing for a moment as she finished adjusting the medical equipment. She opened her mouth to answer but hesitated, clearly uncertain about what—or who—he was referring to.

"Utahime?" she echoed, tilting her head slightly. "I'm not sure... We will call your relatives shortly."

Gojo's confusion deepened. Everything felt wrong—his surroundings, the bleak hospital room, the unfamiliar smells of sickness and disinfectants that clung to the air. Worst of all, the strange lack of cursed energy in the place made his skin crawl.

He tried to sit up straighter, but the nurse quickly pressed a hand to his shoulder, urging him to stay down. "Please, don't strain yourself, Mr. Gojo. You've been out for a long time," she said gently, though her expression was a little more cautious now.

Gojo's mind raced, memories collided—Chia, the wake, Utahime, making the most beautiful love, the cursed object and its offer, it all seemed like it happened in another lifetime. "She was with me," he muttered, more to himself now, blinking as he tried to piece together what happened. "I need her here."