Your first meeting with Yuta Okkotsu goes something like this – after bribing Gojo with a batch of freshly-made cookies, you follow him through the warren of damp hallways in the school's holding cells, and down the murky side stairs even servants must have avoided generations ago.
"I'll be outside if you need me." Gojo says, and promptly dives into the still-warm paper bag, apparently more concerned with food than with his student's safety. "He hasn't spoken a word to anyone yet, so don't be too discouraged if he doesn't want to talk to you!"
Nice.
Rolling your eyes, you push open the door and walk into the room, inspecting the cramped space critically. A multitude of seals the most powerful have been plastered to the walls and the door, and the room is painfully bare; four walls and only one chair. The smell of vanilla and cinnamon still clings to your uniform, surrounding you in the most delicious cloud of perfume, but Yuta barely glances up; in fact, he seems to shrink even deeper into himself, as if hoping that you'll go away if he remains quiet and still enough.
"Hello." You say, anyway, setting a brown paper bag down the floor. "I'm [ NAME ]. You're Okkotsu, right?"
No response.
You blow out a breath – Gojo hadn't been exaggerating about the silence. He seems unable to pull words or form sentences. You wonder if he can talk, if it's fear that makes him mute. "I heard about the students."
Ah, there it is. A barely perceptible flinch. A quiver to his limbs.
You have to hurry to reassure him, already feeling slightly guilty for bringing the subject up. "I'm not mad at you or anything. Besides, I healed them. They're fine, so don't worry, okay? It wasn't your fault."
"It was my fault." Anguish colours his tone a deep indigo. You catch a glimpse of slate-coloured eyes full of panic and sadness and something you can't place before he buries his face into his arms once again. "Because of me . . . Rika-chan came out and hurt them."
Your brow furrows and your voice dips. "It wasn't your fault. You can't control your powers, right?"
A shake of his head. He sounds as though he's teetering on the edge of tears. "It – This isn't a power."
You stare at him for a long minute.
"You might think it's a curse since it's hurting everyone, but what if you could use it to help people instead? That'd make it slightly better, right?" Yuta is staring at you. Really staring at you, as if he can see all the way into you, past flesh and bone. He looks at you as though you've hung the stars on his eyes, and you feel your pulse skipping a beat. Embarrassed, you drop your gaze. "You have the power to make a difference, so why not try putting it to good use?"
Yuta doesn't answer, only curls up over his stomach with an expression that speaks for himself, thoroughly defeated in all the ways that count. Biting your lip, you take that as your cue to leave.
"Ah, there are cookies in the bag if you're hungry, okay?" Your voice is soft, almost crooning. "I'll see if I can come by tomorrow."
