Apricus

003

 Gojo had sent you off while the other three went on a mission.

This is seriously so freaking embarrassing. You clutched your backpack closer to your chest, legs spread to accommodate the size of your bag. The chains on your skirt coiled in the depression of the seat, clashing against each other with each rumble of the train. After the message had been passed to Gojo that there was a second mission in a juvenile detention center, he had sent you off. It made sense, considering your circumstance and all, but it didn't make it any less shameful. You had turned an unruly shade of red when he had announced that you would not be accompanying the rest of your peers on a mission, disguised under the cover that you had to collect your things. It made partial sense, as you had been wearing the same clothes from when Gojo had first plucked you from the train station, but if you had really been needed then such trivial matters could have been delayed.

You shift your feet uncomfortably. Here you were, clad in your high school uniform off to pack your things while your classmates were fighting for their lives. The train shifted to a stop; you pulled yourself up, grabbing the strap of your bag as you huddled with the rest of the colony of passengers to unboard the carrier. The walk home wasn't all that bad, except your mind kept playing the events of the recent days over and over again. The new people you had met, and you had already cared so much of what they thought - it was atypical, really. If anything, you would have been cheering for the fact that you got to slack off. For some reason, things were different.

It was always different when you had felt that sickening sense of doubt.

Your small house was squished up against others, tall and fading away. It was built along a hill overlooking the rest of the city. You pulled open the screen door and grabbed the keys that were hanging off a loop in your skirt, cracking the salmon red door open. The familiar smell of stale air conditioning and mineral water washed over your face as you stepped in.

The interior of your house was rather small, perfect for an individual. The main entrance led straight to a kitchen, and an open door frame revealed a cozy looking living room, which was about the size of some closets. To the right of the kitchen was a narrow staircase; the house was small enough that the entire second floor was your room and bathroom. You pulled off your shoes and dropped your bag off by the door, carrying your weight with each step. It felt as if the soles of your feet were iron, and you were dragging them along like a dysfunctional machine.

You had been living alone for almost three years. Your parents worked abroad, but you had stayed to complete your jujutsu training - they knew that Gojo would take care of you well. Occasionally you called them, putting on an electric smile and promising that yes, everything was well taken care of and yes, you were alright. It was all very exhausting.

There was something soul sucking in putting on a facade everyday, putting up the same cheery go-getter attitude that was typical of any high schooler, especially in front of your parents. Sometimes you felt that there was really no one who could understand how you felt. Gojo always seems to sympathize in subtle ways.

Your room was cozy enough: few plants here and there, yellow lighting so your eyes don't strain, and carpets so the cold doesn't seep through your feet. Shelves were stacked with multiple books on an assortment of topics, and posters of bands and shows were strung up on the walls like a mosaic. Your room was so inherently you, and now you were going to pack up that personality and store it in a school. You sighed, and got to work.

Three hours later, you had a small stack of suitcases lining the staircase to your room, and a fresh pair of clothes on. In an attempt to recreate an 'airport fit' - as was known popularly by the girls in your high school - you sported simple grey sweatpants and an off-shoulder top. Most of your jewelry was now shoved into bags, and you were slightly relieved to finally be wearing something loose. You were sure that you could easily just come back home if you were missing things, or even worse, homesick. There was a strong sense of doubt associated with the feeling, as comfort and homeliness traveled wherever you were. After all, there was no clear family that was to be associated with the word. Not that you minded, though - you knew your parents had their own affairs going on, and you had asked to stay in Japan.