Kurapika was never a tender person.

His past shaped his personallity, shrouded him in a constant cloud of misery and despair. He lost who he once was just like clan members lost their lives. Kurapika was a shell of the boy he once was, now filled with the determination to destroy those who destroyed his clan and life.

He whispered that to you one night after the Hunter Exam. He warned you that he was not gentle, nor loving. His heart was now full of hatred, a hatred that seeped into the deepest crevices of his body and consumed him.

You knew not too expect much out of Kurapika, as a friend that he reluctantly let into his life along with Gon and the others. You knew he was in a fragile state of mind that he might never come out of.

Yet, you stayed.

You stayed throughout the late nights he tracked the Phantom Troupe. You stayed through all the stress and hate that poured out of him in waves when he lost their trail. You stayed through his anger, his fear of opening up again, his reluctance to do anything but hunt. You stayed through the nights he woke up in sweat and tears, clinging onto you like you were a lifeline. You stayed even when he deemed you unnecessary, dismissing when you held him till he calmed and stilled in his sleep again.

You stayed even when you fell in love with Kurapika, the man who had nothing and was afraid of ever having anything.

Loving Kurapika was nothing short of rocky. He loved hard but didn’t know how to show. He wanted to be gentle but was afraid of what that would mean for him. He wanted to love you but didn’t want to let that get between his quest for the Troupe.

Kurapika allowed himself moments of vulnerability. He let you touch his body as he sighed heavily. He let you lay on his chest as he held his breath so you didn’t move. He let you see him in his rawest, purest form — as he slept. He let you share the same bed he did, comfort him when his dreams filled with the same images that haunted him since he was twelve.

He let you become something more than friends. Now, he expected you to forget it all.

Kurapika couldn’t handle love. He was afraid, afraid that everything he loved would suddenly be ripped away from him. He could handle having friends, but a partner? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t allow himself anymore vulnerable moments, not when the Phantom Troupe was so close. Not when everything his life had been leading up to was in front of him.

You were expected to forget all the kisses, intimate touches, words, everything shared in what he deemed a moment of weakness.

How could you go back to being friends after you just shared a bed? How could he look at you and pretend you never met?

hi guys!! i know its been a long time but im actually back and currently working on requests. i’m sorry for the long hiatus but i will do my best to get everything out soon. tysm for the support and love !! <3

You knew from the second you saw him.

You knew you’d yearn for a soul that never could be yours.

It wasn’t your fault you reasoned. It wasn’t your fault you saw him and he just captivated you. It wasn’t your fault his eyes were as sweet as caramel and as inviting as the sun’s warm rays. It wasn’t your fault he caught your gaze too and curled his lips into a smile that could make millions fall.

It was your fault for ignoring the girl that walked his way with two coffees in hand. A pretty blonde girl — befitting of being by his side. It was your fault for continuing to look at the stranger despite the girl clinging to his arm.

But then again, it wasn’t your fault the stranger walked by you and handed you his number on a note.

You shouldn’t have texted the number, expecting a response from someone leagues ahead of you and with a partner, yet you still did. It was wrong, oh so wrong, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was having the brown haired boy lay in your arms so lovingly.

Light was his name. It fit him and how easily he seemed to shine once entering a room.

His carefully crafted words only made you slip into a spiral around him. His attention, his care towards you — how he caressed your face with his hands before immediately retreating. His touch, his lips — the lips that wrapped around yours in the dead of night while his girlfriend slept. Light seemed to be, ironically, the light you needed in your once dull world.

He made you forget about the blonde girl that stood proudly next to him. The girl that was always holding his arm, pressed against him as a display of dominance. A dominance showing he’d always be hers. She haunted your dreams, always wishing you were her, even when you knew you’d never be.

You wished Light would have ignored you that day. Maybe then, you wouldn’t feel the soul crushing misery impending on you. Maybe you wouldn’t have to stand next to him and Misa, wishing you were the one in his clinging onto his neck as he spoke to your brother about Kira. You wish, instead of telling L a masterplan about how to catch the murderer running around in Japan, he’d tell Misa you were his baby.

‘Tell your baby that I’m your baby’ was a constant phrase that lingered on your lips around them. If only to stop the torture, the storm brewing inside you, and to have a moment of sick pleasure at Misa’s downcast face.

Was it your fault for falling for a taken man? Yes, yes it was.

Was it your fault that the man just so happened to be the same man involved in the case your brother was solving?

It was your fault. It was your fault for betting on losing dogs. For betting on a man you knew would never be on your side, for losing by his side.

It was your fault for being so easily manipulated — craving the love you’d never be given. You alone were to blame for the heartache caused by Light, but you didn’t care.

Did you know?

Did you know of the glaces Xiao stole at you? Did you know he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky? Did you know he watched over you while you slept? Did you know how much he adored you?

Did you know he savored each bite of Almond Tofu you brought him, wishing it was endless? Did you know you made him selfish — made him want more and more of your attention, as if he were a glutton? Did you know he thought of you everytime you weren’t by his side?

Did you know just how much he loved you?

Xiao concluded you didn’t know, not when you had Zhongli by your side.

Why would you bother with a tainted creature like him when you had Morax? Morax was perfect and kind, unlike him, affected by karma and followed by demons.

It was Xiao’s duty to rid the world of the damned. He had no time for you, whereas Zhongli had all the time in the world for you. The Archon was also caring, thoughtful and could listen to you — something Xiao didn’t believe he was capable of. He was everything Xiao wished he could have been, including yours.

Welt remembers your wedding day.

He remembers the nerves that threatened to claw their way from his throat, the sweat that lined his palms, the uneven breathing when you got closer for your kiss, the smile that adorned your red stained lips.

It was a simple wedding really — taking place in a rundown shed during winter. Welt wanted better for your wedding, but you simply didn’t care. You just wanted to get married to the love of your life.

You promised him you’d live with him through thick and thin in the harshest of winters and even in the corrupted world you inhabited.

Welt remembers your soft lips pressing on his while you danced to jazz.

You always begged him to dance with you even if he didn’t have energy. He never could find it within himself to say no.

He would take your hand in his and sway gently to the rhythm of the music. It was always sappy, but you loved it.

You’d press your forehead against his and whisper how much you loved him — how glad you were to have him. Then you’d slip a kiss from right under his eyes.

You always laughed at how surprised he was at you stealing kisses. You’d think he would have been used to it by then, but he never was.

Welt remembers how you’d drag him onto the stage during karaoke nights, and force him to sing with you.

You always insisted on karaoke date nights on Saturdays. It was endearing how excited you were throughout the entire day, never seeming to quell your enthusiasm.

You’d wait till night fell and hurried to get ready — always saying something along the lines of “we can’t let everyone have too much fun without us.” He’d always chuckle at your excitement and take you to your favorite bar.

When it was your turn to pick a song, you’d always chose “Ebb Tide” by The Ink Spots first. Pulling him to the stage to sing along with you, even when he insisted he couldn’t sing. You’d say he sounded like an angel descending from the Heavens when he sang.

Welt remembers loving being married to you.

He’d wake up to your side of the bed empty and cold. He would hear faint sounds from the kitchen, you’d always wake up earlier than him to make breakfast.

He loved hugging you from behind while watching you cook. Pressing a few kisses to your neck, he’d watch as you giggled and told him to back off lest his food end up burnt.

You’d see him out of the door with a kiss on his lips and a freshly made lunch. He loved your cooking.

When he came back home, you’d always have dinner ready and a bath running for him. You knew exactly how to get him to relax.

At night, you’d sleep in his arms. You always swore he’d crush you to death one day with how hard he hugged you. He’d always flick your forehead and watch as you tried to stifle your laughter.

You’d give him a kiss on his forehead and say goodnight while you drifted off into dreamland. He’d watch your chest rise and fall calmly as it lulled him into sleep.

Welt remembers your death.

He’d gone away to pose as a history teacher in St. Freya Academy. Telling you it was necessary, and he’d come back before you even noticed. You accepted it despite how worried it made you, pleading him to come back in one piece for you. That was his first mistake.

You’d allowed travelers into your shared home, knowing how harsh winters were. You provided them with hot food that soothed their souls and blankets to keep them warm and cozy at night. You allowed them to make themselves at home in your own home, and in return, they took your life.

You were always too trusting. That was your mistake, but he couldn’t hold you at fault. He knew your heart was far too kind to turn anyone away.

Welt remembers the tears that cascaded down his face when he found you.

You looked as heavenly as you always did even in death. Your eyes were closed while there were dried tears on your face.

He clutched you to his chest, pressing kisses onto you — wishing, praying, hoping it was a dream. Alas it wasn’t.

He doesn’t remember how long he spent holding onto your cold, dead body. He only snapped out of it when Tesla found him on the floor of your home, nursing him back to health — health he wished you had instead of him.

He always blamed himself for your death, even as you were lowered into the ground and the years passed.

Welt remembers when he saw you again.

He and Himeko came across your world, ravaged by abominations and creatures of Nanook. They felt it was their duty to help the people — you were all innocent after all.

He just didn’t expect you to see you there. You were surrounded by creatures on all sides holding a small knife. Even in this world, you were still a fighting spirit. He could see the tears brimming in your eyes though, thinking it was your last moment.

Welt immediately reacted, wasting no time in getting rid of the monsters who would hurt you. It was purely on instinct, out of not wanting to see a bystander get hurt or his spouse, he couldn’t answer.

He got to take a closer look at you. Your hair still framed your face perfectly, albeit a bit messy. Your eyes, even if they were watery, held appreciation in them and that light — that light in your eyes he could never get out of his mind. That light he saw vanish upon your death. Your lips, although not the signature rosy color they always were, still looked just as plump and kissable as before.

You looked just as beautiful as the day he lost you. Welt swore he could lose himself in you, maybe that’s all he was — a lost man looking for his anchor. His anchor he found again.

You bowed deeply and thanked Welt profusely for helping you. Although a humble merchant trying to make meets end, you invited him and Himeko into your home. You were still as trusting as ever.

You served them warm food everyday, even as you apologized that it might not be a lot. You even arranged for Himeko to sleep on your bed while Welt took the couch, and you slept on a small makeshift bed on the floor. You’d say everything was okay, even as your food portions got smaller and you woke up earlier and earlier everyday. It was clear you were in no position to host guests in your house, yet you still did.

You’d beg Himeko to tell you stories about their travels on the Express to pass the time — looking at them with stars in your eyes as they retold their deeds.

Welt remembers the look on your face when it was yet again time for them to be on their way.

They’d done it many times, said goodbye to friends and departed, yet it never got easier. Welt especially didn’t think it was easy when saying goodbye to someone who was the love of his life, even if he was not yours. He’d miss your cooking, your expressions, your smiles, your warm embraces. He’d miss you once again, like he once did all those years ago.

He saw the look on your face, one of sadness and regret. He couldn’t help but mirror it — melancholic at having to leave you again, regretful at not being able to say “I love you.” He knew Himeko didn’t feel much different, you’d been welcoming and loving the whole time they stayed there.

You always stunned him in your past life, even in this one, you still did. You threw caution out of the window and begged them to let you on board the Express. There was nothing left for you in this world.

There wasn’t a single bone or muscle in Welt’s body that was willing to say no. Himeko could see that too and accepted.

Welt remembers your first time on the Astral Express.

Pom Pom had been shocked at the sight of a third person. After their initial shock, they proceeded to scold both Himeko and Welt in front of you.

You laughed at their shenanigans, once again bowing to Pom Pom and thanking them for letting you on. Welt thought you’d fit right in.

Pom Pom, knowing of Welt’s past with you, assigned you a room near his. They knew it’d soothe his mind — nothing would happen to you again. The conductor even pressed Welt into giving you a tour, watching as you beamed by his side.

Welt remembers watching you sleep at night.

You were never a good sleeper, always needing someone by your side to sleep well. You’d chosen Welt as that person, asking him to at least stay by the foot of your bed.

He’d watch as you tucked yourself in and closed your eyes, that same serene expression taking over your features. It reminded him of your last moments.

Your chest would rise and fall rhythmically until it slowed, signaling your descent into slumber. He’d take that as his cue to leave, before you started shuffling around and your breathing picked up.

Welt had experienced many nightmares before — of his friends, the Welt before him, of you. He could immediately pick up the signs, and you had all of them. Whispering in your sleep, he could slightly hear your words begging to be spared, your slight sniffles turning into sobs.

Welt was a strong man, he’d lived for a long time and still had a will of steel. But hearing your cries and murmurs, he felt his resolve weaken.

Welt remembers climbing onto your bed and soothing you back to sleep.

He hugged you close to his chest, humming a tune you loved when you were together while caressing your hair.

That seemed to quell the turmoil within you as you slowly stopped crying, and instead fell back asleep.

Sigh.

Gojo was at it again. You could tell as soon as you opened the door to your apartment.

One thing you didn’t expect to see when you got home was Sephora bags on your counter. You should have come to expect it though; that’s just how Gojo was. You show the slightest interest in a product and he immediately buys it, thinking it’ll somehow make you fall in love with him.

Another sigh escaped your lips.

How were you to deal with his non-stop barrage of affection and gifts?

You opted to set your work bag down and instead focused on the multitude of bags in front of you. Slightly peeking into them, you were greeted by Charlotte Tilbury products, specifically the blush you had been talking to Gojo about for weeks. Of course that wasn’t the only thing he bought. Gojo was anything but cheap.

He’d bought you every new cosmetic product in the store. The amount was absolutely ridiculous; there was no way you’d be able to use all of them before they expired.

Your phone ringed in your pocket, prompting you to pick it up. Of course Gojo was calling you after the stunt he pulled.

“What?” you answered.

“What’s with the hostility, sweetheart? I take it you saw the gifts I left you?” You weren’t face to face with the man, but you could vividly imagine the shit-eating grin on his face when he answered.

You leave his words hanging in the air, a deadpan expression on your face from how irritable he was being. The silence was comforting until it was broken by his vexing voice once more.

“Don’t I at least get a thank you?”

“You’re an idiot. Why would you spend so much money on stuff I’ll never get around to using?”

Gojo leaned back on his chair on the other side of the call, kicking his feet up on his desk as he reached out for the framed photograph he had of you. His thumb caressed your cheek — wishing it was the real thing instead.

“Hmm, I dunno,” He murmurs, setting the picture down. “Maybe I want you to use it for our date? If you’ll ever accept to one, that is.”

You rubbed your temples, feeling a headache form. You hung up on him after turning down his date proposal for the thousandth time.

“Stupid Gojo with his stupid schemes,” you whispered. Despite your words, you couldn’t help but let a tiny smile pull at your lips.

“This is stupid,” you said as you got in Gojo’s car.

“Tell that to your broken down car,” said the man who you suspected was behind your slashed tires.

‘It wasn’t him though! he insisted.’ You didn’t trust that. How else would your tires end up slashed while you were in the middle of work?

You turned away from him, sighing and deciding to instead look out the window, “Whatever, just take me home.”

Gojo could tell you were down in the dumps; he knew you had worked hard for that car, and it meant a lot to you, despite the fact that he was willing to buy you another one.

He frowned slightly before turning the radio on and connecting it to his phone.

The sudden noise startled you, “What are you doing?”

As he typed away on his phone, you assumed he was texting a girl, maybe his newest piece. It was typical behavior of someone his age. What you didn’t expect was for your favorite song to come on.

The melody lifted your mood a bit, it was relaxing. You even moved to the music. The lyrics resonated within you, pulling you out of your contemplation.

Gojo smiled at your mood changing — he could bear having to listen to your song choices, but he just couldn’t bear seeing your melancholic face as tears welled up in your starry eyes.

He was glad he had snooped through your spotify now.

Sundays were what you dubbed the “best day of the week.”

You finally had a chance to relax and unload from all your workload. Sundays were days you spent in bed just a little longer, only getting up around 10 am. They were also when you brewed a warm coffee and sat down near a candle while reading your newest favorite book.

Sundays felt homey, something that you didn’t feel throughout the week when you had to wake up early and work long hours.

You hummed as you took a sip of coffe — it was just perfect. Today was perfect: no work to do, no one to bother you, nothing to do.

You thought your day would be peaceful and quiet until you got a knock at the door. Getting up to answer, you already had a slight inkling of who it was. Nevertheless, you found yourself opening the door and of course, it was Gojo Satoru in the flesh.

“Hell—“

You didnt give him a chance to finish and instead slammed the door in his face. ‘Not today,’ you thought as you closed your eyes and wished him being at your doorstep was a hallucination.

Instead of your wish being granted and you ending up drinking your coffee peacefully, you got another knock at the door.

You sighed, “Guess there’s no escaping this.”

Gojo wore a bright, blinding smile as you opened the door, “I knew you wouldn’t leave little old me at the door hanging!”

“Gojo, why are you at my door this early in the morning?”

“It’s,” he paused to take a look at his watch before continuing, “11:34 in the morning. I think I’m late, actually.”

“That doesn’t change anything.”

“Quite the lazy one aren’t you? Anyway, I brought peace offerings,” Gojo said as he held up the bags of takeout, IHop specifically; he knew it was your weakness. “I knew you wouldn’t let me in if I came empty handed.”

You smiled at the sight of food, ignoring how your mouth instantly watered, “Hm, I guess you can come in.” You pushed open your door wider, stepping to the side so he’d walk in.

Gojo donned his signature smile as he strutted into your place like he owned it. Even if he’d been here before, he could never stop admiring the place. It felt like home — a home he wished he shared with you.

“Don’t go snooping through my things again. I know you were looking for my family album last time,” you said with a glare as you walked towards the kitchen.

“Can’t a man be curious about his future in-laws?” The white-haired sorcerer sat down the food, quickly distracting you from his comment so you wouldn’t shut down his hopes and dreams. “Tada! I got you your favorite pancakes.”

“Thanks,” you said as you started digging in.

Gojo couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the way you hungrily wolfed down the pancakes — he almost felt bad for them.

“So, Yaga wants you to go on a mission with the new students.”

You stopped chewing midway at his words and sighed, “Is this why you came? To sweeten me up into accepting?” You muttered with half of your pancake sticking out of your mouth, your words almost incomprehensible to Gojo.

“Come on, do it for me?”

“Yeah, whatever,” you stood up and started walking away, “You can leave now.”

A frown pulled at Gojo’s pink lips, he knew you didn’t like the Jujutsu world and how unfair they were, but with the recent curse activity, he was needed elsewhere and you were the only one who he trusted to go with the students he cherished.

Nanami had already said no. Gojo feared you would too, but you loved the students too much to say no. He almost felt envious of how much you doted on them, wishing it was him instead.

He stood up, walking over to you. He tilted your chin upwards to look at him, even if he knew you didn’t want to. “I know you’re not too fond of our line of work, but you’re the only one I can trust.”

You had no choice but to look into his perfectly crafted blue eyes, how they were slowly but surely becoming your weakness. Stupid Gojo with his stupid pretty eyes and his stupid honey words.

Your resolve melted away almost instantly. “Fine.” You pulled away, “Just send over the details for the mission.”

You knew the mission was happening soon, just not this soon.

‘Curse you, Gojo,’ you thought as you looked at your text messages with him.

Pain in my ass: Just hang on, it’ll only be for a few hours >:)

He messaged you, while surely spending an absurd amount of money on sweets on the other side of the world.

“Should we be concerned for Gojo-sensei? She looks like she’s about to kill someone,” Yuji whispered to Megumi and Nobara.

He wasn’t joking. There was a deep scowl on your face while your eyes twitched at every message you got. Your pink nails dug into your palms as you got angrier and angrier. There was no doubt in Yuji’s mind that Gojo wouldn’t make it out alive when he came back.

“He brought it on himself, idiot,” Megumi said, snapping Yuji out of his thoughts.

“How?” Yuji responded.

“Gojo-sensei knows this is her only day off and specifically told us we should do this today without fail, probably just to piss her off more.”

“Hmph, Gojo has no respect for a lady’s personal time,” Nobara butted in, crossing her arms.

“Let’s go.” You had finally stopped fuming at your phone angrily.

The mission was actually quite simple — something Gojo neglected to tell you. All you had to do was watch over his students as they attempted to exorcize a curse, a test made to see if their abilities were up to par.

You could breathe a sigh of relief when they told you that. At least you wouldn’t have to use your cursed energy.

Well, you lied.

As it turns out, nobody bothered to check the curse’s grade (or the higher ups neglected to do so in order to get rid of Yuji). You were told it was a grade 3, something simple that the teenagers could handle. Now, the curse was a grade 1 that easily beat Yuji, Nobara and Megumi up.

Sigh.

You would definitely make Gojo pay for this, especially on your off day.

“Of course I have to clean up Gojo’s mess now.”

The curse easily towered over you, reaching at least 7 feet in height. It wasn’t humanoid like the other curses Gojo had encountered then told you about, though, instead, it donned a traditional Japanese yukata with the lower half of an octopus and a human torso accompanied by an ox head. Quite terrifying in your opinion — if you were a normal person, that is.

“You got this, sensei!” shouted Yuji who sat by a wall.

“Well, I’ve got students watching. Don’t disappoint me, little octopus.”

Disappoint you it didn’t. As a matter of fact, it left you stunned with its speed. It was faster than you, managing to land a strike near your ribs. That ought to cost you a pretty penny in the hospital later.

“Ohoho, I see a little octopus curse has already bruised up that pretty face of yours.”

There was that irritating voice of Gojo’s, narrating the battle as if he was actively fighting it and not you. Of course he’d come in right at the moment when you’re losing. You’d only managed to keep the curse’s limbs restricted with vines, but beyond that you couldn’t do anything. That was the curse of being a grade 3 sorcerer.

“Shut up and come help me, idiot!”

“Nah, I like seeing you put in the effort,” Gojo said as he stood around. You could see the bag of mochi he was holding, offering some to your students as a way of showing his unbothered nature by the situation.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “You’re paying my hospital bill after this.”

“Say please.”

“YOU WANT ME TO BEG YOU TO HELP??” Disbelief coursed through your veins and was as clear as day on your face. There was no way you’d plead Gojo for help.

Well, yes there was.

“Please.”

You had no strength left to deal with a curse of that level; Gojo was now your only option. You knew how to pick your battles, after all (or so you’d like to think).

“Now, in exchange for a kiss on the cheek, I’ll definitely help.”

He had to be joking — there was absolutely no way that would be happening.

He wasn’t joking.

“You’re an idiot,” you whispered in Gojo’s ear as you pressed your lips to his cheek, sealing your fate.

“I can die happy now,” Gojo said as he made a stupidly in love face.

Lan was a creature bound by strict rules.

They knew not of softness. That was not a trait they had the pleasure of being familiar with.

All they knew was hunt, hunt, hunt. Hunt the abominations that plagued their homeworld. Hunt the devastation created by them. Hunt Yaoshi the Abundance.

Hunting meant Lan had to be solitary, a consequence they had long fully accepted, as long as they got to rid the universe of the undead. While they had accepted it, it didn’t mean they didn’t sometimes yearn for the closeness he knew humans had. They longed to understand it — to have it for themselves like they once did, no matter how greedy of them it was.

“Waaaa! Your hair is so silky and soft! What do you use on it?” You racked your fingers through the Aeon’s hair, “It’s so long too, you should let me braid it!”

“Hmm, perhaps you can,” Lan said as they kneeled, further allowing you access to their head.

“Yay!” You grabbed the brush by your side and softly combed Lan’s hair, making sure to get all the knots out. After that, you sectioned their hair into three, giggling out an “oops!” when you accidentally pulled too hard.

“Does that feel okay?” you asked as you started braiding.

You didn’t hear much of a response from Lan apart from a low hum. That prompted you to lean your head over their shoulder, trying to get closer to look at their face.

What a sight you were greeted by. Lan’s eyes were closed as a small smile danced around his lips. Their cheeks were tainted a light pink while hairs that escaped your braid framed their face.

“So pretty..” you whispered out as you shuffled out from behind.

Lan opened their eyes to find you in front of them, smiling like a child who had just been given candy before bedtime. Your smile was bewitching, the most beautiful sight they’d laid their eyes on during their 4000+ years alive.

“Hey, no fair! I wanted snap a picture of you, you looked so calm and peaceful,” you said as you pouted, whining about the loss of “such a perfect picture” and “best lockscreen that couldn’t be topped.”

Lan chuckled at your antics, putting a stop to your ranting.

“Hmph, whatever,” you said as you moved back behind them, continuing the braid. Your cheeks now were the ones tainted a rose pink, making your whole face feel like it was on fire.

“I finally finished!” You took clips resting beside you and put them along the Aeon’s hair, giggling as you imagined them shooting down abominations while wearing bows.

You handed a mirror to Lan, watching as they looked at their newly styled hair.

“So, what do you think?” you said while your face adorned a prideful smile.

“Thank you, my love. I love it,” Lan said as they pressed a kiss onto your cheek.

You vividly remember the last words Gojo said to you.

“Don’t miss me too much,” he said jokingly, unknowing of the fact that even a moment away made your heart ache longingly for him.

You laughed at the time and hit his chest lightly, unknowing of the sorrow that would soon consume you.

“As if I ever would,” you joked back.

You regret it now — all of it. You regret meeting Gojo. You regret being his friend. You regret being so close to him. You regret falling in love. But most of all, you regret never telling him you loved him.

No one could blame you, you couldn’t have known he wouldn’t make it out of the fight alive. The thought was always there, gnawing away at your consciousness, but you pushed it away. You couldn’t doubt Gojo, not at a time when he needed someone, anyone.

Times used to be simpler though. Gojo used to be carefree, not bound by the Jujutsu world’s rules. He was allowed to be himself around his friends, and not carry the weight of the world around his shoulders. How you miss that side of him.

You sighed under the warm, bright sunlight, opening your eyes to grab a strawberry and bring it to your lips.

Contently sighing once again, you closed your eyes. You opened your mouth to bite the strawberry, instead closing your mouth around air.

“Huh?” you whispered out.

You opened your eyes to find Gojo standing in front of you, holding your strawberry.

“What can I say? You snooze, you lose,” he said, not wasting another second and biting the sweet fruit you’d been craving all week.

Your lips curled downwards as you stood up, “I’m going to kick you all the way to America.”

Gojo took that as his cue to start running as you screamed profanities at him, cursing him and the rest of his bloodline.

Shoko could only look on and shake her head fondly.

It was small moments that made you fall for him. It could be as simple as him just giving you a hair clip when the wind blew your hair in your face or sharing food amongst your friend group. Despite your blossoming feelings for the white haired man, you knew you stood no chance. It wasn’t that you weren’t his type or other women, Gojo just had no time for love.

He made that blatant during your high school years. The strongest had better things to worry about, he couldn’t be worried about pursuing love and making someone else a target. He had people to protect, lives to make sure no harm would befall them. He simply had no space in his heart.

That’s what he said to everyone at least. But you knew he wouldn’t allow himself to get close to another. You knew Geto’s death and betrayal still affected him, even years after. You knew of the consequences and rules that came with being the strongest. The same ones that would never allow him to be yours. The same ones you wished you could fight against. The same ones you cursed fate for being so cruel for.

In spite of what you felt towards him, you stayed close to Gojo’s side, hoping he wouldn’t push you away. It didn’t matter if he didn’t love you quite like you loved him. It didn’t matter if he didn’t dream about you at night. It didn’t matter if he would never see you as more than the friend who always stayed by him.

Gojo needed someone, maybe you couldn’t understand him like Geto once did, but you tried. You tried to be the one person he could seek solace in.

How did it end up like this?

“Gojo-sensei lost?” you heard Yuji whisper out.

There was silence thereafter. Everyone seemed to be in mourning, mourning for someone who shouldn’t have died.

You should have expected this. Sukuna was ruthless and unrelenting when facing Gojo. You should have expected Gojo wouldn’t be able to survive the amount of attacks hitting his body. You refused to acknowledge the small possibility Gojo would lose or die. He was the strongest after all. But now, it was a reality.

You heard the shuffling that came after, with people leaving. You supposed it was time to finish off what Gojo left.

You stood up, ignoring the tears rolling down your face. You had no time to waste on tears, it would come after Sukuna was dealt with.

You imagined what Gojo would say if he saw you crying. He’d probably laugh in your face and call you a crybaby. A small chuckle left you at the thought, as more tears escaped your eyes.

How were you to fare without Gojo? You wouldn’t be able to go out and get treats with him anymore. You wouldn’t be able to practice with the students while he poked at your cheek anymore. You wouldn’t be able to take silly photos with a cat filter on with him anymore. You wouldn’t be able to sleep soundly at night while dreaming about him.

“Let’s go,” Shoko told you while she leaned against the doorway.

You looked back at her, devastation as clear as day on your face.

Her face softened as she kneeled down to hug you. Shoko felt for you, she knew of your feelings towards Gojo and how hard you would take this.

You hugged her back, opting to cry into her comforting shoulder. You stopped when you felt your own neck get wet.

“Shoko?” you whispered, hugging her even closer to you when you figured it out.

She was crying too.

“Come on,” Shoko said as she stood up, taking you with her.

Another one.

Yet another one lost. This time it was Choso, choosing to sacrifice himself for his brother. You would have considered it heart warming if not for the circumstances. All you could feel was the impending dread the longer this fight dragged on.

Then you saw him.

“Gojo?” you whispered while looking at the screen. Choosing to get closer to it, you could make out his figure.

Were your eyes playing a trick on you?

You saw Gojo die before your very eyes, then you helped Shoko suture his split body together. How could he be there fighting Sukuna again?

Tears began to fall from your eyes again.

That wasn’t Gojo Satoru.

Shoko stood beside you, parting her lips to speak, “Gojo knew you wouldn’t approve of it, so he made everyone hide it from you.”

You turned away from her, choosing to sit on an autopsy table. A cold, hard table that Gojo had to lay on after his death.

Everything reminded you of him. Even in death, he haunted you. How cruel.

“I’m sorry,” Shoko said as she sat next to you.

“It doesn’t matter now, does it? It already happened,” you whispered while adjusting to lay your head on her lap.

She took that as an opportunity to softly comb through your hair. You closed your eyes tightly at the feeling, exhaustion and melancholy weighing heavy on your limbs. Willing your emotions to calm down, you soon fell asleep to Shoko massaging your head.

You awoke to a field. Flowers swayed in the wind while the sun beamed down on them. All sorts of animals gathered around the flowers, basking in sunlight.

In the middle of the bewitching field you saw Gojo — the Gojo that slipped from your fingers. He was laying down while a bunny perched itself on his lap, seemingly without a care in the world.

The sight of him brought a smile to your face.

You ran towards him, determined to not let him go this time. You would tell him how you felt this time, even if it killed you.

As you neared, his eyes shifted towards you.

“[Name]?” Gojo said, sitting up.

“Satoru,” you whispered as you hugged him tightly. He wouldn’t slip from your grasp this time.

He hugged you back while his lips itched closer to your ear. You could hear his breathing, he was alive. Satoru was alive.

Shoko stopped combing through your hair as she felt her lap grow wet with tears.

“Oh, [Name],” she whispered sorrowfully.

“I love you, Satoru. I love you. Please, please be real,” you said as tears welled up in your eyes, forcing you to close them to stop them from falling.

Gojo pet your head lightly while wearing his signature smile, “I love you too.”

You opened your eyes to find Gojo gone. You watched as your surroundings slowly disappeared along with him.

The flowers that bloomed disappeared. The small animals that sniffed them and scurried around were gone too. The scorching sun was replaced with darkness. A vast, open darkness.

Worthless: that’s all Sukuna thought you were.

How dare a mortal like you fall? Worthless, worthless. You were supposed to get back up, and fight once again.

Where did your resilience go? Where was the willpower you had before? Where did your determination to cleanse this world disappear to?

Sukuna wanted you to get back up and defeat the foolish shikigami that dared challenge you. You were supposed to, like you always did. But this time, you didn’t.

Instead, you fell like a mere pebble into the vast waters of this fickle world. You fell and left him alone, once again. He should have expected this.

Humans were fragile, complex beings he never understood, until you. Sukuna let your humanity consume him; he let it soften him. Now he would pay the price — you.

He should have known soon enough the sorcerers would find out you betrayed them. He should have known they would come after you for falling in love with Sukuna. He should have known it would be Megumi that would come after you. Of course they’d send someone you treasured deeply, just to rub more salt in your wounds.

Was it your fault for putting Megumi in this position? Yes, yes it was. You were selfish, yearning for love that could never be yours. It was a tragedy that when you finally got it, it would be with Sukuna, the Jujutsu world’s #1 enemy.

You could have turned it away. You could have said no when Sukuna flirted with you. You were glad you didn’t though.

With him, you experienced true love. You got to spend countless nights in his arms, talking about the future you knew you wouldn’t have together. You were able to patch his wounds even if he didn’t need it. You made food for him, even as he spewed that “Curses don’t need that foolish human food.” You kissed him, and let him be the one to love you until the time came you would fight for your love. You were loved for once.

All the love you had to give would become your downfall. You knew this, but it didn’t matter. When did it ever? You’d give anything for love. If you had a chance to love Sukuna again, you would.

You knew fighting Megumi would end with you losing your life. You couldn’t fight him, no matter how much he wanted you to. He was raised under your care (along with Gojo’s sometimes), growing on you.

How could you ever hurt him when you spent your time patching his scraped knees? How could you lift a finger against the one you called your son?

The higher ups knew this, and used it to their advantage. How cruel.

How cruel was it that Sukuna had to watch as you died to Mahoraga. How cruel was it that he didn’t make it in time, caught up with fighting Gojo.

How cruel was it that you died in his arms.

Loving Lucifer was complicated.

All of Lucifer was complicated, as a matter of fact. He was for one, a demon. A demon who had a tendency of hiding his emotions. Who kept his siblings on a leash and acted as if he could care less, when his actions showed otherwise.

Love was complicated; it threatened to engulf you like the ocean would a defenseless seal pup. You loved more than you could show, loved more than there were observable stars in the universe. You also fell too easily, that was always your Achilles heel.

You were cursed. Cursed to quickly fall, but never to take the time to ease into it. You knew you could, you should, but you wouldn’t.

It just so happened Lucifer was the one you fell for now. How couldn’t you? He was rough around the edges, yet sweet. He was aloof yet he cared much more than he let on. That drew you to him. How couldn’t you fall for someone like him? Someone who loved his siblings so much that he sacrificed himself daily.

Of course, you knew Lucifer didn’t feel the way you did. Your feelings were silly, an unreciprocated school girl crush on someone like him. But that didn’t stop them from festering. They grew in your heart and crept up on all your being, closing up your throat whenever he was near and making your heart palpitate.

You sighed (perhaps for the 50th time today), you were just a human from a human world, brought here to help Diavolo bring the 3 realms together. You had no place in a relationship with Lucifer, someone beyond your scope, beyond your reach. You weren’t nearly enough for a demon of his status, yet you entertained these silly feelings. Maybe it was because of the way he acted around you.

You knocked on Lucifer’s study, determined to deliver Barbatos’ tea. You knew Lucifer was stressed out about all the paperwork that needed to be filled — you could feel it within your pact. So, you asked Barbatos for his most calming tea.

You inhaled and exhaled, convincing yourself it wasn’t a big deal, nothing to be nervous about.

“Come in,” you heard Lucifer reply moments after you knocked.

You turned the knob, and of course, weren’t surprised by the sight. Lucifer’s study was always clean and neat, despite being under so much pressure.

Lucifer’s eyes were glued onto your figure as he talked, “Yes?”

You took another breath, nothing to be nervous about right, “I brought you some tea. I asked Barbatos about it, don’t worry.”

Lucifer’s lips curved up into a small smile, “Thank you, you can set it down here.”

You smiled back softly before turning around and heading towards the door.

Lucifer called out after you, “Would you like to stay?”

Your face contorted into something between shock and bewilderment before it settled into a wide smile, “Of course.”

You thought about that moment often. It made you feel warm all over, feeding your delusions about what ifs you knew wouldn’t happen. They wouldn’t because of Lucifer.

Despite loving every part of him — from his perfectly combed black hair to his polished brown shining shoes, you were able to admit his aloofness was a major downfall. How he didn’t seem to care hurt sometimes. It hurt to think that maybe, he just didn’t care for you. You knew otherwise, even if he didn’t say it outright, but that didn’t stop your mind from wondering.

You wondered, why did he always run?Why, instead of facing his emotions, did he avoid them, as if they were a plague on his being?

You wondered if he could even stand your very being.

You fell asleep before Lucifer could finish his work.

He sighed, he should have expected this. Of course his workload would finally be finished around midnight.

Lucifer grimanced at your position on the study couch, shifting you into a more comfortable one and covering you with a blanket.

He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before sitting at the foot of the couch.

You were simple, as simple as a teenager could get. You liked going outside, drawing, reading, all things people around your age did. Maybe you were too simple sometimes but it wasn’t a bad thing.

Your parents thought otherwise though. Costs of living were going up: food, clothing, housing, everything. They were forced to make hard choices, and when push came to shove, they signed your unwind order. An order that would take away all your rights — primarily your right to live as a whole human being.

Cry as you tried, scream as you tried, nothing would get them to change their mind. In the end, they stayed firm on their decision, deciding you out of all your 6 siblings, were to go.

You were forced to bow your head and accept your fate. There was nothing you could do but give in, or at least that’s what you thought until Roland convinced you otherwise. Roland, who was one of your closest friends, was also sent to be unwind when he retaliated against his mother’s boyfriend.

At least you wouldn’t be alone in your final moments. Your final moments wouldn’t come as fast as you thought though.

“Roland, what are you doing?” you asked as you saw him packing a bag.

“Changing my fate. Now, come with me.”

Roland had made the rash decision to run from his fate, and you, scared of being alone, went with him. You would face all that was to come together. You just weren’t ready for what that meant.

Your “small” detour brought you to Sonia’s basement, a kind old lady who took in AWOLs. For her you were glad; she sheltered and fed you, what more could you ask for?

It would seem Roland wasn’t satisfied with that. He thirsted for more, never being satisfied with what he had. You didn’t always understand his motives, but you stayed by his side, acting as a right hand for him.

He slowly rose up, being a voice for the kids and taking control of the situation. No one challenged it, they simply didn’t care enough or were too scared. Of course they would be, Roland was big, buff, scary: a person someone rational wouldn’t mess with. But, the coming of a girl and a boy changed that.

The boy dared to challenge Roland, starting a rivalry that seemed to heat up the room whenever they were near each other. Connor, as you learned, was impulsive, worse than Roland, and seemed to care too much about the girl who came with him. The girl, Risa, was someone Roland used to toy with Connor. Roland tried pinning her in the restroom once, flirting with her, trying to get close to her, all in order to get Connor angry and irrational. It worked sometimes, other times it didn’t.

Roland was difficult, wanting full influence over the basement kids. Connor, on the other hand, wanted Roland to back off. This power struggle between them erupted in many ways, oftentimes leading you to intervene, and others to get caught in the crossfire.

It was late, too late to deal with Roland being a pain in the ass. You should have expected this, of course he would pull something deep in the night. He was messing with Risa, and now, Connor was pissed off, leading them into a stand off.

You only came to know of this when one of the little kids woke you up, whispering “Roland and Connor are at it again.” You were forced to get up after that, once again having to settle their nonsense.

It was definitely too late to be dealing with Roland. You didn’t get paid enough for this (or at all).

When you arrived at where they were in the kitchen, you saw Connor hiding Risa behind him, while Roland stood across from him with his arms crossed and a smirk lining his lips. You could see Connor’s rage boiling in his eyes, threatening to erupt and burn everything around him, including his friend. You took that as your cue to intervene.

As Connor was about to open his mouth, you stepped in, “Do you guys really have to do this so late?”

All three of them turned, not even surprised at your appearance. They knew this would happen, it was a routine at this point.

“I didn’t do anything, simply wanted something to eat,” Roland said, keeping the smug look on his face, which only seemed to irritate Connor more.

You sighed, you didn’t get enough sleep to deal with this. “Come on, Roland,” you said as you walked over to him and pulled him by his arm, walking away.

You shot Risa a look on your way out, silently telling her to deal with Connor and calm him down before he scared the other kids.

“You need to learn to leave them alone, it’s annoying dealing with this drama this late at night,” you scolded Roland as you left the kitchen, heading to the sleeping area.

Roland didn’t say much at first, settling with an “I barely touched her.”

“You know anything you do sets him off, he’s like a fuse waiting to blow, and you’re not helping.”

Back in the kitchen, while Risa tried to calm Connor down, he thought about you — about how you chose to involve yourself with someone like Roland. He was sure you were no better than him, maybe worse than Roland, as you tried to act sweet.

Sweet you were, he was sure you made cavities grow on everyone’s teeth. He saw how you tended to the kids, how you patched up people when needed, how you made new kids feel welcomed and at home. It led him to wonder how you ended up at Roland’s side, highly treasured by him. He could understand why Roland kept you close, you were like caramel, sweet and inviting, even your lips were inviting him to press a soft kiss on them.

Connor shook his head, he shouldn’t be thinking of you that way. You were someone to be thought of as an enemy, someone he couldn’t align himself with. He had to hate you.

Time passed, and you all stayed the same. Roland and Connor squabbled, while Risa and you tried to stop them. The kids were lively, not as much as before though.

Soon enough, you’d end up stuffed in boxes, being shipped somewhere no one knew. It was a long trip, and your circumstances didn’t help. You were, unluckily, forced into a box with Connor and 2 other boys.

It was dark inside the box, but someone kept their gaze on you, staring daggers through you. You were sure it was Connor, why wouldn’t it be? You knew being friends with Roland would lead you two to be enemies by association.

You sighed, it would be a long trip after all.

Connor, on the other hand, tried to distract himself from your presence by talking to the other boys in the box. It was always nice to make friends, especially if they’re be in there for however long. They’d try to involve you in the conversation, but you didn’t respond much, opting to keep to yourself.

You were strange, Connor thought. He didn’t understand you try as he might, which only led him to more questions about you and your motives. How’d you end up here? How’d you end up stuck to Roland’s side? How’d someone like you be sent to be unwind?

As much as Connor wanted to voice these questions outside of his head, he knew he couldn’t. It was strange to talk to you, you only gave short answers to anyone but Roland. He wondered if you and Roland had something else going on.

Thinking of Roland only seemed to make him tense and anger to vibrate inside the box. He was losing himself in his thoughts about Roland till he felt a hand on his arm. A soft, warm hand that interrupted his thoughts, and made his mind dizzy and his head cloudy.

“Calm down,” he heard from a voice in the dark: your voice. The voice he longed to hear. Connor settled his thoughts and tried to turn to you, sitting across from him. He couldn’t see you in the darkness, but he could feel your warmth. It was comforting.

“Thank you,” Connor whispered, as he felt your hand retreat back into yourself. He was weirdly disappointed by it, though he tried not to show it.

It was only hours later that movement stopped and someone opened the crate they were in, letting sunlight in and rushing them to get out. It was chaotic and loud, airplanes could be heard and seen everywhere, along with tons of kids.

Connor learned later on they were in the Graveyard, and were to reside there until they turned 17 or they managed to get them fake identities. It was a new setting, but they didn’t have to live in fear of being unwound and think out their next plan to survive.

After, Connor looked for Risa, instead finding you and Roland alone. He didn’t know why, but his blood boiled at the sight of you and Roland hugging. He could hear you asking him if he was okay and if he was injured.

Connor hated you. He was sure he did, yet why did this feeling arise when you were near Roland? Why did he feel like he was suffocating when you got too close and clutched onto Roland like your life depended on it?

He couldn’t be jealous, no. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that he was actually jealous of Roland. He couldn’t admit that he wished you were hugging him and not Roland. Connor, not knowing how to deal with these feelings, instead chose to distract himself with other things, like helping kids around the Graveyard and being the Admiral’s helper.

Eventually, everyone got acclimated to their new environment. Every kid had a job to do, with you being in the infirmary. It seemed like the best option since you were used to patching up your siblings and kids in Sonia’s basement. It wasn’t everyday Connor came though.

“Alright, all you needed was some alcohol and a bandage. Don’t worry dear, you’ll be fine to play, just be careful,” you said as you finished tending to a little girl who scraped her knees. She got up, thanking you and then leaving.

You looked at the time, lunch was soon and you were starving. You had no time to eat this morning, and your mouth threatened to water at the thought of food.

As you were tidying up and getting ready to leave, the door slammed open and revealed Connor, an injured Connor, to be precise.

“Connor?? What happened, are you okay? Come and sit here,” you said as you hurried to get supplies for him.

The injury looked deep and was bleeding a lot, you definitely wouldn’t be eating any time soon.

Connor looked out of it, so you grabbed him and sat him down, pressing a warm cloth to the wound. He hissed, murmuring a small ow before settling.

“I’m sorry, bear with it for now while I try to find some stitches,” you whispered to him.

You found them, taking a small second to “Aha!” yourself before returning to his side. You took the cloth, and instead tried to disinfect the area around the wound, “How did this happen?”

“I wasn’t careful enough, I got distracted by someone else and dropped a part of the airplane on my arm,” Connor whispered, opening his eyes and staring straight at you.

“Hm, be more careful. I’m gonna try to stitch it now.”

Connor looked at you while you worked; you looked focused, your eyebrows furrowed as you worked to stitch up his wound. He liked your facial expressions, they were full of life. He saw a piece of your hair slide down and cover one of your eyes, moving it with his other hand.

“Thank you,” you murmured, continuing on with what you were doing.

Once you were done, you stood up straight, and looked right into his eyes, “You’re done now, good job. Try not to strain that arm and don’t put pressure on it okay?”

He nodded, thanking you. You moved away so he could stand up, but he stayed. Connor grabbed your arm, pulling you back in front of him and almost making you fall on him in the process.

“What are you doin—“ he cut you off in the middle of your sentence and brought you closer.

“I like your eyes. They shine like the sun, so bright and glowy,” Connor said before getting up and leaving. Leaving you with your swirling thoughts. He was confusing.

What he said stayed in your head, leading to many thoughts you knew you shouldn’t have.

His eyes had stared deep into you, making you feel like he could see into your soul. His hands were calloused, yet soft at the same time. You wondered what it would be like to hold them close to your face at night.

You knew you shouldn’t think of him that way, but you couldn’t stop it. The little acts he did tricked your mind into thinking what it would be like to be his.

You used the newly brought piano as a way to distract your mind from Connor. You played a few tunes when you were a normal kid, and not an AWOL.

The piano keys felt familiar under the pads of your fingers, inviting you to play. It was dark and everyone was asleep, so you saw no harm in losing yourself in the music.

You pressed one key, then another and another, till you started remembering a tune you played frequently for your friends. You vividly started to remember when you played for a school concert, in front of your mother and father for the first time, and when you played just for Roland.

You missed your old life. It was a life full of love and friends. It might have been mundane, but it was something you grew accustomed to — something that comforted you. Now your life was full of fear and paranoia, impeded by that Unwind Order. You longed for times to return to how they were, simple yet fun.

While you played and thought about your old life, Connor thought about you. He was laying in bed when he heard the piano. He thought it was Risa at first, but he knew she’d be asleep at this time. Regardless, there could be a chance that it was, so he got up and went to the courtyard.

There Connor didn’t see Risa, instead he saw you, playing the piano with tears streaming down your eyes. He stayed there, waiting for you to finish. He busied himself with admiring you, taking a moment to look at all your features from the shadows of your face to the curve of your lips while you played.

You suddenly stopped, spotting him, “Connor?” You wiped your tears and stood up, getting ready to apologize for waking him.

“I like when you play; it’s like listening to an angel’s melody. You should play more often,” he said, stepping closer to you.

“Ah, thank you, and I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Dance with me if you’re really sorry.” Connor held out his hand, waiting for you to take it.

You didn’t deny him that, and took his hand. He immediately pulled you closer, while his other arm came and wrapped around your waist. He then started swaying with you despite there being no music.

Connor could feel your breath on his, it intoxicated him. He was sure your presence was his drug. He could feel the way your hand grabbed onto his shoulder, while the other was intertwined with his own hand.

“Why are you doing this?” you took a moment to ask Connor as he spun you around.

“Doing what?”

“Dancing with me, telling me these things, complimenting me; it messes with my brain.”

“Because I like you.”

You pulled away from him, flashing him a shocked face, “What?”

“I mean it, I really do feel something for you. Even if you’re friends with Roland, I don’t care. It makes me feel jealous and angry when you’re close to him. I want to be the one you hug and patch up, not him,” Connor said as he pulled you closer to him and cupped your face in his hands.

“Really? You mean it? Tell me you mean it please, Connor,” you said as you brought your hand up to his, and caressed his hand.

“I mean it, I promise. Let me prove to you I do.”

The room was devoid of sound, but when his lips finally met yours at last, you swore you could hear a million different melodies being sung. An angelic tune rang in your ear, erasing the uncertainness that plagued your minds beforehand.

His lips latched onto yours, his tongue seeking entry almost immediately in a desperate search. Your tongues danced to a certain rhythm, a perfect translation from your dance movements from a moment ago.

There was a time you'd worship the ground Ayato walked on. Times that were simpler than now: times where you and Ayato were in love. That was long gone now, leaving only an empty space in your soul that wished for the love of your life back.

You met Ayato as a kid. Your parents were simple retainers of the Kamisato family. They were always working, yet they made time for you — their only child. They took you to work, hoping you would follow in their footsteps as it seemed as the best option for you. There you saw a young Ayato.

“Don’t stray too far from me lest you make a mess!” Your mother shouted after you.

You heard her, but your mind didn’t register what she said, instead focused on playing. That seemed to be the greatest mistake you’d ever make. Though, at the moment, it felt like the best.

“Look at how high my kite can go, mom!” You said while running and feeling the wind.

“It’s so fun, thank— ugh” You stopped abruptly, feeling another body collide with your own, and there after falling to the ground.

Your mom caught up with you, taking a moment to sigh at your antics, “I told you not to be careless, now you’ve gone and bumped into another. Apologize.”

Your mother heard no more from you— only silence. Looking below you, she saw Ayato.

You watched as her expression morphed into horror and she began spewing apologies while helping you up, “Lord Kamisato, please forgive us. We meant no harm.”

She forced you to bow and set your eyes on the ground, but you peeked— watching as Ayato stood and whispered out a soft “it’s alright” before leaving.

It’s safe to say you got scolded that night, but it was a core memory for you. You experienced the childhood a child should, not weighed down by the expectations of others or clan obligations, something you couldn’t say for Ayato. You thought of him regularly, wishing to get closer to someone your age in a world where all you had were grownups. You wish you could go back in time to change that.

You wish you never gathered the courage to go up to Ayato that fateful day. You wish you stayed where you were, 14 and weighed down by the exceeding expectations of your parents.

Yet another party, you dreaded these. They were only a waste of food and space, a place for rich people to do rich people things as your mom caught you saying multiple times and proceeded to scold you.

You had nothing to do during these times, but stand around and help anyone who asked, but you made sure your face guaranteed no one would. Even if you weren’t doing anything, you got hungry— your stomach begging you for some food you turned down earlier that day, too busy cleaning.

“Hm, I don’t think anyone will notice if a fruit or two go missing,” you whispered under your breath while heading towards the kitchen, determined to stuff your face with more than a fruit or two.

The kitchen wasn’t too far from where you were standing like a statue. You entered it and immediately, your nose was in scent heaven. Everything smelled and looked so good; your mouth could just water at the sight.

You wasted no time and grabbed a plate, grabbing anything you saw and digging in. As you were stuffing your face like a starved pig, someone walked in. That someone being Ayato, catching you eating when you should be working.

Yeah, you were getting fired.

“Who are you?” Ayato said calmly, watching as you quickly swallowed your food and tried to speak.

You were done for, scrambling to come up with an answer while trying to not get your parents in trouble, “Uh a guest?”That totally didn’t work, you were getting kicked out.

Ayato eyed you, trying to assert if you were lying, “Guests aren’t allowed back here, come.”

You followed him, albeit ready to say goodbye to this world. You were sure he knew you were lying, and if he told your parents, you would never see daylight till you were 75.

“Where are we going?” you managed to ask while walking behind him.

“As the son of the Kamisato clan, I feel it is my responsibility to show you around since you’re a guest.”

You couldn’t believe he believed your split second lie, “Huh? Really?” You came to a closed off part of the estate, only knowing it because it was the most tedious when it came to cleaning.

“No,” Ayato said while taking out his sword, “Start talking.”

“Well, that took a turn,” was all you managed to get out before being pinned to the wall and getting his sword pointed at your neck.

Ayato gave you a look, and you took that as your cue to start talking, “Okay okay, I’m just a maid, nothing more, nothing less.”

He seemed to lower his guard for a split second, but then pressed you for more, “Go on.”

“Uh? I just work here I guess?”

You could tell he grew annoyed of you, putting his sword away and getting ready to walk away.

“Hey, wait!” You shouted at him before he left.

He turned around, cocking his eyebrow at you.

“Walk around with me.”

“Why?” he asked, once again turning around.

“Take it as an apology for bumping into you when you were younger, plus there’s no one here that’s my age.”

He did end up walking with you, even if it wasn’t for long, you still enjoyed it. It felt nice to have someone to talk to that could understand you.

You kept talking after that, meeting in the gardens while butterflies fluttered in your stomach. As you grew older, your friendship evolved. Small chats grew into late night talks, walks together turned into you holding his hand, light, fleeting touches turned into you running into his arms.

That all changed when he turned 17. His 17th birthday came around, and your world came crashing down that same day.

You were walking with him in the gardens before he had to go perform his duties. “Hey, don’t work too late today. I still want to spend time with you, after all, it’s not everyday you turn 17.”

“I won’t, I promise. I’m all yours after the evening. I only have a meeting with my father.”

“Hmph, I hope so! Your father likes to hoard you all day sometimes,” You said while pouting at him.

Ayato chuckled, taking your hand and turning you towards him, “You’re so cute you know, so charming too even with your tantrums.”

You gazed into his eyes, falling deeper into the blue abyss the longer you looked. Instead of dignifying him with an answer, you hugged him, burying your face in his chest while he pet your hair.

As you were about to finally respond, you heard your mother’s voice, “Lord Kamisato, your father calls for you.”

You separated, then hugged him again, wishing him a good day after you knew you wouldn’t see him till later tonight.

Ayato left soon after. You turned towards your mother, only to get a disapproving look and a few words.

“Prepare for tonight, dear.”

Meanwhile, Ayato finally reached his father’s study, composing himself before stepping in. He wasn’t surprised to see another person in there besides his father, but what did surprise him was that it was someone unfamiliar.

“Ayato, I want you to meet someone.”

Meet someone he did. He met his future spouse, someone of the Yashiro Commission. Of course, this came with being one of the big three names of Inazuma.

You were inconsolable after he broke the news to you, choosing to stay in your room and ignoring him. It wasn’t his fault, you knew, but what could you do? What could he do?

You were content with being Ayato’s, even if hidden from his family. Ayato was planning to tell them; he said he would, but of course, that was no match when it came to his father’s words.

You should have never been greedy. Now, he was the only one who made you want to go home and cry. He made you feel alive, now even that was ripped from you.

There was a time it was only you and him, but the morning after his birthday, he could be seen with his soon to be spouse. To be wed after his 18th birthday.

Ayato knocked on your door a few days later, hoping this would be the day you answered. Of course, he was wrong once again, you never did open. The only person you let in was your father, not even your mother.

He wished you opened, maybe he could have told you how much he still loved you and how hard he was fighting his father to be with you. Maybe he wouldn’t feel like he was losing the love of his life.

Maybe if he knew you saw them kissing, he would know why you never opened.

Soon enough though, trying to talk to you would become the least of his worries, as his parents had died. He was forced to mature and look after the devastated clan, even as his heart called out to you, pleading you to hold him in your comforting embrace while whispering consolations in his ear.

You blended into the background after or maybe you left. But by the time Ayato got to you, he had lost you.

He couldn’t find you anymore, and asking your parents drove him nowhere. Your mother never approved from the start, so she saw it as a good thing that you two had broken up, but your father, he knew where you were. He just refused to tell Ayato.

He had lost you, and now by his father’s dying wishes, he had to marry another that he didn’t love.

The wedding between them was extravagant, nothing falling short of the Kamisato title. Many gathered, watching as the clan leader too got married.

You, on the other hand, got notice of the wedding through your father’s letters. Even if it was a week late, it still managed to break your heart — tearing at the pieces that were holding on by a thread.

He had sent photos by your request, and you could tell they were in love, deeply. Maybe deeper than the love you shared. You were happy for him; he deserved better than a simple maid from a simple family.

You had officially lost Ayato. He was never yours to begin with, never yours to keep, only yours to love.

Why?

That’s a question you asked yourself every night.

Why did you exist? Why did you breathe? Why was the Xianzhou Loufu perfectable habitable for you? Why would you kiss a boy just to get hurt?

Why couldn’t he be yours?

You didn’t understand anything, yet you did at the same time. What a puzzling age you were in.

The age was just as puzzling as the guys in it. Jing Yuan was a prime example; he was difficult to understand, never showing much emotion. Maybe that drew you to him. He was an enigma yet to be uncovered, and you wanted to be the one to do so.

Maybe that was your downfall too. You should have known allowing someone so close would come back to bite you. You should have known allowing him to twirl your hair around his slender, delicate fingers would haunt you. Allowing him to hug you and hold you would all come back. Spending countless days talking while he pretended to do his work so Fu Xuan wouldn’t scold him. Laughing together while you sneaked away would be your downfall.

Caring so much when all he wanted was a friend would be the cause of your heartbreak.

Why did you wish to kiss his soft lips before you slept? Why would he act so interested in you when in reality he wanted another? Why would you be so stupid as to fall for it?

You brought this upon yourself, of course you did. You should have known it wouldn’t end the way you wanted. He wouldn’t think of you like you thought of him, yet you were foolish enough to believe he would — deluded enough to fall into the embrace of any man who gave you attention.

You should have learned your lesson. Because you didn’t, you now had to deal with the consequences. If those consequences were seeing them together while you cried yourself to sleep every night, so be it. If it was slowly letting your heart tear itself into pieces, you would have to brave it.

Ring, ring.

A sound you thought would never hear from this line again. You tried to move on— to block him and forget so many painful memories, but alas, you were too weak. Too focused on the memories that once were and what could have been of you.

You tried to forget the stinging tears and endless nights waiting for him to love you like you did that came with loving him. You tried to forget how he so easily left you for another, another that was infinitely better than you could have ever been. You really did try, but you couldn’t.

You promised to distance yourself, already shedding so many tears for him. You cared too much, while he cared so little— so little that your heart couldn’t take it. So little that you left, but here you were once again at his feet.

Clouded by your misery and loneliness, you called him. You promised yourself you wouldn’t, yet here you were: on the line, waiting for him to pick up, if he even would.

He wouldn’t, you concluded. The line had been ringing for too long, and he must not want to hear your voice. You shouldn’t have done it, even if you so desperately wanted to hear his sweet voice vibrate in your ears.

Voicemail.

He didn’t pick up, you were right. You shouldn’t have, you wouldn’t have. If it weren’t for the sight of a guy who looked just like him on the street, holding a girl’s hand. It reminded you of him— of how you used to be before he revealed who he really was. The face behind so many disguises, so many lies and deceptions.

A tear fell on your screen, would you really do this? Were you this desperate?

You knew the answer, and now he would too.

“Hey, I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I want to talk. I miss you a lot. Please call me back, please. I still love you so much. I’m sorry, but call me back and hear me out.”

Yuji loved you, more than anything in the world. He swore up and down he loved you farther than space could reach. Yet, in this very moment, you didn’t feel that.

How were you supposed to feel with the information you were given? Yuji settled. For you.

He couldn’t have the one he wanted so he went for the next best thing: you. You who was always willing to be there for him. You who cared for him so much that you stayed even with Sukuna’s meddling, only to find out you weren’t his first choice.

It led you to thinking, did he kiss you with somebody else in mind? Who was this somebody? And why couldn’t you be that somebody?

Now you knew, you should’ve paid attention when he walked faster and left you behind. When he mistakenly called you another name. When he started a train of thought, but never bothered to finish it. The unsaid I love you’s that never were.

You then understood what the distant look in his eyes was when he was with you. He never saw you for you, he only saw you as a replacement. A what could have been, but never was. A reminder of the past that never would be.

You should have listened when you were told he was too good to be true. Too good for someone like you. You’ll listen next time, when you’ve fallen in love with another and left him behind. But, deep down, you knew a part of you would still love him.