lili

It’s weird being the one left behind.

I’m looking at all these old pictures I found at the bottom of my drawer, there’s one of the three of us, me, Gojo, and Suguru. There’s another one of us and Yaga, and one of me with the first years.  There’s a lot of pictures that were originally intended to be only mine, but Geto and Gojo photobombed them. I cried the most after seeing those last ones. 

Now they’re all gone: Haibara, Geto, Gojo, Nanami and Yaga.

When Geto left I kept repeating to myself “At least I still have Gojo”, but it wasn’t true in any sense; Gojo got so big, and so lonely, even with the infinity there wasn’t any space in his life to what we had back then, when we were all together. I, myself, wasn’t the same too. I couldn’t put myself in danger, so I had to sit and watch everyone that I care to go out and die.

And then take care of their dead bodies afterwards. 

But being untouchable doesn’t mean I am immune to being hurt. 

After Gojo had killed Geto, he came to me. He sat in my room in silence for a while. He drank, I smoked. Then after some time, he asked me: “if no one can hurt me, how could I end with that much pain?”, I didn’t know what to reply, so I didn’t say anything. 

I constantly ask myself the same.

I wish I wasn’t the one left behind and the one who got to watch everything. I wish I didn’t need cigarettes to keep myself sane, or at least, I wish that this cigarette could end me for good. I wish to be  able to sleep a full night one day. And I wish my reverse curse could cure this pain that I constantly feel, too.

There’s this shadow that’s not mine and walks by side,

it seems a lot like yours.

It’s hard to forget you when you are always walking with me.

There’s this heavy burden that I’m constantly carrying in my chest,

and it gets heavier the more I think about you; 

“At least curse me a little at the very end.”

Gojo opens his mouth and tries his very best to let out the words he had kept safe for so long. His last words to his forever best friend.  

I love you. 

I love you. I love you. I love you.

I love you.

He tries but he can’t. He closes his mouth. Opens it again. Nothing comes out.

I can’t.

Because letting these words free would mean cursing Geto, and Gojo loves him too much to do it. Loves him too much to let him be devoured by the thing he devoured all his life. 

And Suguru understands what Gojo’s silence means. Of course he does, he always did when it was about Gojo, he may not have any special eye, much less six, but he’s able to see right through Satoru just fine. 

And Geto smiles. He smiles even though he had just said he didn’t have any reason in this world to be truly happy. Even so. And that’s probably the last true smile Gojo’s gonna see, and god…

It hurts. 

I love you, Gojo thinks another time, but this time he doesn’t even try to say it louder. Geto already knows and this knowledge doesn’t relieve the weight of the burden he’s carrying even since Suguru announced his attack. 

He has a job to do here, he isn’t here as Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto’s best friend, his one and only. 

He’s here as a jujutsu sorcerer. The strongest.

As the teacher of the students that just now got attacked by the man in front of him.   

Even so. 

Even so.

He still can’t. He lifts his arm, aims his attack. Geto’s almost gone, he just needs to give one blow. 

He knows he didn’t finish his job, he can feel he didn’t. But even if he’s so, so powerful, he isn’t powerful enough to take another look, he isn’t powerful enough to give another blow, he isn’t powerful enough to wait there to see and feel the life waving away from his lover’s life. 

It’s one of those rare days where Gojo is around, where you and he can spend the day lazily hanging out together, acting like the teenagers that you are. It’s an odd day, and you think you’re supposed to be happy for having your best friend around, but you aren’t. You still feel like this won’t last, like he’s going to be called away in a matter of minutes. You’re half listening to Satoru telling a story about something that happened in one of his missions and you think: “I have to enjoy it while it lasts”. But you can’t enjoy it, really. You can’t stop the bitterness you feel sitting there while Gojo tells something about his life, you can’t stop thinking that you don’t have that much of a big part in it anymore. You can’t stop feeling that you’re behind. 

Gojo then stops in the middle of saying something, a rarely seen serious expression on his face while he looks at you.

“Are you okay, Suguru?”

You swallow the truth of your feelings like you swallow a curse and lie, “I am. Why?” 

You are better than him at hiding all of it, but he sees the truth in your face nonetheless. 

“Liar.” He faces you and waits for you to tell something. The truth. You can’t say all of it, but you can say something. He’s your best friend, after all, you should trust him with your feelings, right? That’s what you tell yourself, trying to rationalize the situation.  

“I am afraid that all this anger I feel will end up killing everyone I love.” 

Saying it out loud doesn’t make you feel lighter. In fact, it seems to weigh heavier on you. When you speak about something, it turns into reality, and you’ve tried endlessly to deny those feelings, deny their existence. 

“You’ll need more than some anger issues to kill me, at least.” Is what Gojo ends up saying, after a while. 

He has no problem displaying his power. This time you can hide what you’re feeling well: the envy you’re feeling because you know that he isn’t just joking about it. 

The truth is: he is better than you. Stronger. You know it and he knows it too. 

Another truth you try to hide even from yourself is: that sometimes you hate him because of this.

You weigh your words for a second, two. Says them anyway:

“Even if you are the strongest, you still can’t be everywhere every time. You could never have saved Haibara’s life because you weren’t there when he went to do his mission. You weren’t here when he didn’t make it back alive. There’s no guarantee you’re going to be here if I end up doing something.”

You see the pain on Gojo’s face and a sick part of you feels proud.  You think: I’m not strong as you are, but I still can make you hurt. 

Another part wants to take the words back immediately. 

You two sit in silence for a while.

“I’m sorry that I’m not around anymore as much as I was. I know that too.  I’ll try to be here for you, at least.” The defeat in Satoru’s voice doesn’t make you feel victorious at all.  You feel you’re just as hurt as him by your own words. Yet, that doesn’t stop you from giving him another blow. 

“You know you can’t do it. It’s not your choice to do. You’re the strongest, but the power to choose what you do with your power isn’t yours to hold.”  

You want to ask him to take his power with his own hands and do what he wants with it. You want to ask “What are you doing?”. You want him to stay a little longer with you.

The truth you can’t hide from anyone is: even if you sometimes hate Gojo, envy Gojo, resent Gojo, your love for him will always be more than any other ugly feeling you feel. 

You can’t bear the look on Gojo’s face now, because his pain hurts much more than yours. 

He breathes, in, out. Doesn’t reply yet, but there’s a finger hesitantly trying to reach yours. He’s afraid to touch, you realize, a thing he never needed to be, not with you, and this breaks your heart. Again.  So you touch him first. Hold his hands properly.

“I’m here now, does that count for something?" 

It doesn’t.  

It does. 

You tighten the hold on his hand. Says: "It does." 

It’s one of those rare days where Gojo is around, where you and he can spend the day lazily hanging out together, acting like the teenagers that you are. It’s an odd day, and you think you’re supposed to be happy for having your best friend around, but you aren’t. You still feel like this won’t last, like he’s going to be called away in a matter of minutes. You’re half listening to Satoru telling a story about something that happened in one of his missions and you think: “I have to enjoy it while it lasts”. But you can’t enjoy it, really. You can’t stop the bitterness you feel sitting there while Gojo tells something about his life, you can’t stop thinking that you don’t have that much of a big part in it anymore. You can’t stop feeling that you’re behind. 

Gojo then stops in the middle of saying something, a rarely seen serious expression on his face while he looks at you.

“Are you okay, Suguru?”

You swallow the truth of your feelings like you swallow a curse and lie, “I am. Why?” 

You are better than him at hiding all of it, but he sees the truth in your face nonetheless. 

“Liar.” He faces you and waits for you to tell something. The truth. You can’t say all of it, but you can say something. He’s your best friend, after all, you should trust him with your feelings, right? That’s what you tell yourself, trying to rationalize the situation.  

“I am afraid that all this anger I feel will end up killing everyone I love.” 

Saying it out loud doesn’t make you feel lighter. In fact, it seems to weigh heavier on you. When you speak about something, it turns into reality, and you’ve tried endlessly to deny those feelings, deny their existence. 

“You’ll need more than some anger issues to kill me, at least.” Is what Gojo ends up saying, after a while. 

He has no problem displaying his power. This time you can hide what you’re feeling well: the envy you’re feeling because you know that he isn’t just joking about it. 

The truth is: he is better than you. Stronger. You know it and he knows it too. 

Another truth you try to hide even from yourself is: that sometimes you hate him because of this.

You weigh your words for a second, two. Says them anyway:

“Even if you are the strongest, you still can’t be everywhere every time. You could never have saved Haibara’s life because you weren’t there when he went to do his mission. You weren’t here when he didn’t make it back alive. There’s no guarantee you’re going to be here if I end up doing something.”

You see the pain on Gojo’s face and a sick part of you feels proud.  You think: I’m not strong as you are, but I still can make you hurt. 

Another part wants to take the words back immediately. 

You two sat in silence for a while.

“I’m sorry that I’m not around anymore as much as I was. I know that too.  I’ll try to be here for you, at least.” The defeat in Satoru’s voice doesn’t make you feel victorious at all.  You feel you’re just as hurt as him by your own words. Yet, that doesn’t stop you from giving him another blow. 

“You know you can’t do it. It’s not your choice to do. You’re the strongest, but the power to choose what you do with your power isn’t yours to hold.”  

You want to ask him to take his power with his own hands and do what he wants with it. You want to ask “What are you doing?”. You want him to stay a little longer with you.

The truth you can’t hide from anyone is: even if you sometimes hate Gojo, envy Gojo, resent Gojo, your love for him will always be more than any other ugly feeling you feel. 

You can’t bear the look on Gojo’s face now, because his pain hurts much more on you. 

He breathes, in, out. Doesn’t reply yet, but there’s a finger hesitantly trying to reach yours. He’s afraid to touch, you realize, a thing he never needed to be, not with you, and this breaks your heart. Again.  So you touch him first. Hold his hands properly.

“I’m here now, does that count for something?“ 

It doesn’t.  

It does. 

You tighten the hold on his hand. Says: "It does." 

good morning babies