Shattered | Gojo Satoru

𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 : 𝓉𝓌𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓎-𝓈𝒾𝓍

Gojo remains rigid, his body a statue of self-control, but the constant buzzing of his phone is like a maddening drumbeat that only he can hear. The messages, the calls—they haven't stopped. His heart pulls him toward the device in his pocket, but his mind, sharp and aware, warns him against it.

Across the room, Kiyoko sits at her station, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. The monitors before her flicker with the faint traces of cursed energy, rippling in patterns only someone with her level of skill can interpret. Her hands hover over the keyboard as she reaches out, searching—feeling—for something. Her breath comes in slow, deliberate pulls, each one guiding her closer to the truth.

"I'm almost there," she mutters under her breath, though no one else can hear her over the low hum of equipment.

Nanami stands nearby, arms crossed, his eyes flicking between Gojo and Kiyoko. He knows how precarious the situation is. Gojo is on the verge of breaking, teetering on the edge of action, and one wrong move could send him rushing into a trap. They need answers. They need to know if it's really Miyu who's been contacting Gojo, or if this is just another twisted game by their enemies.

"Anything?" Nanami finally asks, his voice calm but laced with urgency.

Kiyoko doesn't answer right away. She closes her eyes, her fingers hovering over the keys as her cursed energy probes deeper into the ether. She's been working tirelessly for hours, trying to track Miyu, trying to make sense of the strange energy signatures she's been detecting. It's been a frustrating task—one moment Miyu seems close, the next, she vanishes entirely, like a whisper in the wind.

"I'm close," she says again, this time loud enough for Nanami to hear. "But something's... off."

Gojo's phone buzzes once more, a sharp reminder that time is slipping away, and with it, their chances of finding the truth.

Nanami steps closer to Kiyoko, glancing at the shifting data on her screen. "Off how?" he asks, leaning in slightly, his deep voice resonating with the calm authority that he's known for.

Kiyoko opens her eyes, exhaling slowly. "It's hard to explain," she admits. "I'm getting something. It feels like Miyu's energy, but it's... fragmented. Scattered." She frowns at the screen, her eyes narrowing as she studies the data. "It's like she's here, but not fully here."

"Explain," Nanami prompts, his voice tightening ever so slightly.

Kiyoko takes a deep breath and turns to face him, her expression troubled. "Her presence—it's like a broken mirror. You can see pieces of her in different places, but they don't come together. They don't form a whole picture."

Gojo, who's been standing silently, lost in his own thoughts, finally speaks, his voice low and strained. "What does that mean?" He doesn't look at Kiyoko, his eyes instead fixed on the floor as if he's trying to make sense of everything. "Is it her or not?"

Kiyoko hesitates, unsure of how to answer. She glances at Nanami, then back to Gojo. "It's her," she says, but her voice lacks the confidence they're all hoping for. "I mean, it feels like her. But something's not right. I can't fully explain it yet. It's like she's... split across different places, different energies. Like she's here but being pulled in multiple directions at once."

Gojo's jaw clenches, and his fists tighten at his sides. "You're telling me she's... fragmented?" His voice rises slightly, the frustration breaking through the calm facade he's trying so hard to maintain.

Kiyoko nods. "That's the best way I can describe it. Her energy's there, but it's blurry. Fuzzy. Like it's not fully anchored to one place."

Gojo lets out a harsh breath, his hands moving to run through his hair. He doesn't know what to believe anymore, and that's what terrifies him the most. "So, what does that mean for the calls? The messages?" he asks, his voice rough.