𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 | gojo s.

𝟒

I still remember the smell of lavender.

It lingers in the air, soft and familiar, much like the memories of the life I had before. It used to make me feel at ease, the way the warmth of the morning sun would embrace me. Now, it haunts me, a reminder of how drastically everything has changed. No matter how much I try to ground myself in the present, I’m always drawn back to those fleeting fragments of a world I can no longer see.

The wind rustles through the trees outside my window, and I listen to its delicate whispers. Every sound in this new world is amplified, every scent richer. There’s an odd comfort in it, though sometimes it feels like it’s too much — too overwhelming. It’s a different kind of loneliness, one that doesn’t stem from being alone, but from being trapped in your own thoughts, surrounded by an abyss.

I reach out, my fingers brushing over the fabric of the curtains, feeling their rough texture beneath my skin. The world outside these walls feels so distant, even though it's just a few steps away. Yet, I don't step out. I’ve been here before, but nothing feels the same now. After all, it’s hard to venture into the unknown when your eyes are no longer your guide.

It was then that I heard it — his voice. Low, calm, but with an undercurrent of amusement.

“Sakura, are you daydreaming again?”

His voice always did something to me. I could feel it, the way my chest tightened at the sound, and the way my heartbeat sped up, involuntarily. Gojo Satoru had that effect on me, though I would never admit it. Especially not to him.

He stood at the doorway, his presence always unmistakable. It wasn’t just his voice, but the way he filled a space. Even without my sight, I knew when he was there — an inexplicable force that couldn’t be ignored. He had a way of making you feel small and significant all at once.

I pulled the curtain closed, turning toward the sound of his voice. “I wasn’t daydreaming.”

“Liar,” he teased, and I could hear the smirk in his words.

“Why are you here?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant, though my fingers clenched into the fabric at my side.

His footsteps were soft but deliberate as he crossed the room. The air shifted as he moved closer, and I could sense him just a few feet away. My heart raced again, and I silently cursed myself for reacting this way. It had been weeks since Gojo had inserted himself into my life with his playful arrogance, weeks of him toying with my sanity, always lingering just close enough to make me question everything.

“I told you, didn’t I?” he said. “I’m your self-appointed bodyguard now.”

I scoffed, though the sound was weaker than I intended. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“Sure, you don’t,” he replied, his voice softer now. “But maybe I need someone to look after.”

There it was again — that strange shift in his tone. He could be so maddeningly carefree, but every once in a while, he would drop his guard, letting a hint of something real slip through. It was moments like this that left me conflicted, unsure whether to push him away or draw him closer.

“Is this your way of admitting you have nothing better to do with your time?” I said, trying to regain my composure.

Gojo chuckled, and I felt the warmth of his presence move even closer. He was beside me now, the familiar scent of him filling the space between us. My breath caught as I waited for his next move, unsure of what he was thinking. With Gojo, you never really knew.

“You wound me, Sakura,” he said lightly, though there was an undercurrent of sincerity in his voice. “I think I’d rather spend my time with you than anywhere else.”