𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫 | 𝐒. 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 ✔️

Chapter XIII

I stood in the empty living room of Gojo's house. It was so peaceful, so quiet, I almost smiled to myself, even though the anxiety gnawed at the pit of my stomach.

The place felt like a different world. Not mine. I could feel the space around me, the stillness in the air, and I couldn't help but let out a long breath as I closed my eyes, letting my head fall back against the soft cushions of the couch.

For a moment, it felt like I could actually breathe. Like I could exist without the constant pressure of everything weighing down on me.

I try to relax, but my mind keeps racing. There's so much going on—so much I still don't understand about all of this. About Gojo. About what's happening with me and my parents. About the chaos that's become my life.

But here, in this empty room, everything seems so far away. Just for a second, I let myself believe that maybe I could forget it all.

Just for a second.

I close my eyes, letting myself drift in the quiet. Gojo's life... It seems so simple. So easy. Everyone thinks he's got it all, and maybe that's true. I mean, look at this place. The fancy house. The freedom. The way people just seem to fall over themselves to make things easier for him.

I almost hate it. How lucky he is. How much it looks like he has no problems. Maybe if I could just swap places with him for good, I could stop worrying about everything.

But then I remember—I'm in his body. I'm stuck here, and nothing about it feels right. It's like wearing someone else's life, but none of it fits.

Still, the thought lingers. Gojo doesn't have to deal with the constant pressure from my parents, or the weight of my past decisions.

He doesn't have to worry about the mess I've created. His world just keeps going, and I wonder what it would feel like to live that way. To not have the constant fear of messing up hanging over my head.

But then I snap back to reality. This isn't my life. It's not Gojo's either. It's just a mess we're stuck in.

Still, for a moment, the thought of his life seems so much better than mine. It's hard not to think it.

I think back to what Gojo said the other day, and it stirs something in me. He was right—partly, at least. I do miss my body. I miss the way I knew how to move in it, how it felt to be me. Now, I'm stuck in this strange shell, just waiting for it to end.

I missed school today. I should've gone, but honestly, all I wanted was to stay in this big, quiet house.

Just... be for a moment. But now, as I sit here, I feel the anxiety creeping in. I can't stay here forever. We need to switch back, and the longer we wait, the worse it's going to get.

I keep thinking about what Gojo said, about what we'll have to do if we don't figure this out in time. I shiver at the thought.

Living as each other? No way. I can't even imagine what that would be like. What if people start noticing? What if it all goes wrong?

But I don't have a choice, do I? The only thing I can do is wait for Gojo, and hope we come up with something.

In no more than forty minutes, Gojo and I are sitting on his bedroom floor, both staring up at the ceiling, lost in our own thoughts.

"Doesn't it feel weird, seeing yourself outside of your body?" I ask, glancing over at him.

He doesn't immediately respond, but after a moment, he turns his head with a small smirk tugging at his lips. "No. I've always known I was good-looking. This just proves it," he says, his tone playful, but there's a hint of something else too—maybe frustration, or uncertainty, just like me.