#gosho

Chapter 1 and 2 out!

This has been a labour of love for over a year, compressed into approaching 500 pages! Thank you to our artists, our writers and our enjoyers.

This would not exist without you 🕶️🩺

Hiii so theres this deleted Scene of Zero the enforcer and i cant find them anywhere? If some of you know where to watch this Scene can you send me the Link please ?

I m talking about this Scene :

So yeah, I guess satosho fandom is stuck with me.

Warning: Spoilers from manga; I think it's fluff with a little bit of angst?

Notes: it's the third piece I'm writing and posting, and it's the first one I am talking hehhe I guess I'm not over everything, and gosh, I have to write because all I'm thinking is them. Sorry because English is not my first language so any mistakes you can blame on me and warn me, please? And oh, a warning, I guess this one it's not comfort, only angst.

What she never told them is that her hands are bloodier than their hands will ever be.

They would never believe her, of course. Probably they would laugh, stare at her and ask how. " How could your hand be bloodier if you don't fight?" And then she would only laugh and agree with them. How?

And then her memories would do her a favor. She would remember every time her hands touched the flesh of the dead, how she cut them, how she had breathed the curses, how she had tasted, touched, smelled and felt the curses. They would never understand. How could they?

And the same way she never told them about her hands, she never told Satoru about her anger.

Her hands were bloodier, yes, she feels the red drip every day between her fingers, show slick, how disgusting it is, but it was her choice, or at least is what she tells herself. It was her choice, so why, after all this time she couldn't touch her friend's dead body?

She had prepared herself, she had breathed, she had imagined, she had known that one day Satoru would kill Suguru, it was inevitable, it would happen, and then she would mourn him, then her hands would have his blood too, and she would touch him the last. They would be the last, as it should. It would be Suguru, Satoru and Shoko.

But it didn't happen that way.

It was only Satoru and Suguru.

It was only her and her hands.

Satoru never understood. Shoko never said anything.

They didn't talk for a while. Shoko had refused, and Satoru were so into his new life with his students. They just didn't. Why would they?

And then Satoru needed her hands. It was his kid, in front of her, and she was preparing herself to open him, to give Satoru all the details, and then. . . He wasn't dead anymore.

She was tired. She was happy. She didn't know. Life was hard, and she never saw life on her work. Well, not anymore. Not in a long time.

And then Satoru started to talk to her again, and in a few days her hands, her bloodied hands were used for other things. Her hands were touching him, making him gasp, say her name, making him cry for her, and she started to love her hands.

They could have blood, but they had love too. And she loves, she gives Satoru all her love, all her anger, all her blood.

And then he leaves. And it's only her and her hands again.

She decides, on that time, to not let her hands be bad, so while pretending, while crying, she touches herself, she gives her hand the task to do exactly what Satoru hands did. It wasn't the same, but it was better than nothing.

He comes back.

Satoru was there again, and the first thing he does is to reach at her. And how happy was she, touching him, kissing him, and adoring him. They passed a whole day alone, secured, touching each other, not only her hands, but his too, their hands. Never not touching.

And he promised he would come back, he promised that he would never leave again, and " It's okay, shoko, if something happens, you can use your beautiful hands. You will bring me back."

So how, someone needs to tell her, how her hands are not working? Why her hands have so much blood on them, blood that wasn't supposed to be there, Satoru's blood, between her fingers, on her, all of her, blood everywhere, and why her hands are not working?

Someone tries to take her out of him, but Shoko only screams, shouts, she doesn't know of she says something coherent, but she uses her voice while trying to use her hand, because she promised. She promised that she would bring him back, and why? Why can't she do it? Why?

"You've met them!" Shoko exclaimed, attempting to tug him towards the sea of people waiting outside. "Three times!"

Gojo stood there, seemingly unaffected by Shoko's full force. "I know, but what if I mess up?" he voiced his concerns, his eyes reflecting a touch of vulnerability.

Shoko let go of his arm, her frustration shifting into amusement. "Are you telling me you're scared of a little human interaction, c'mon now, Satoru," she said, placing her hands on her hips and tilting her head in his direction.

"Don't—" Gojo mockingly mimicked Shoko's movements, placing his hands on his hips as well. "—me! What if I say the wrong thing, and they all start talking shit about me to you? What if they tell you to break up with me?"

Shoko chuckled, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of his hair behind his ear. "Yes, because I would leave you based on what they said," she reassured him, her voice softening. She lightly tapped his head before continuing, "Don't be ridiculous. Plus, you owe me for being late."

"Don't be mad at me! Yell at Ichiji. He was driving at the speed limit after I took care of a couple of curses," Gojo retorted, trying to shift the blame away from himself.

"Poor thing—having to deal with you all the time," Shoko remarked, placing her hand on her forehead in mock exasperation. "I would never be able to handle your bull—"

"I think you love handling me," Gojo interrupted, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he closed the distance between them, his hands finding their place on her hips. "You know, since everyone is upstairs on the rooftop, we could just stay—"

"Oh no no no," Shoko laughed, wiggling her way out of Satoru's hold. "We have to go up there." She turned around and headed for the door. "Plus, I think my roommate might go home with her boyfriend, or you can take us back to your place."

"Didn't know you wanted me that bad," Satoru quipped, his smile widening as if he had won the argument. Shoko's face dropped, feigning annoyance.

"Hey, I want you that bad, I'll admit it," she finally admitted, unable to contain her laughter as they left her room.

"Yeah, I was always just the second or third tallest in my class," Gojo said, curving his lip downwards, a hint of self-consciousness in his voice.

As they made their way out of the apartment, the distant sound of laughter and chatter grew louder, signaling the lively atmosphere awaiting them on the rooftop. Shoko and Gojo climbed the stairs together, their steps in sync. 

As they approached the group, Gojo's mind raced, searching for the perfect words to say, the right jokes to tell, and the appropriate topics to discuss. He wanted to make a good impression, to fit in seamlessly with Shoko's circle of friends.

Shoko had wandered over to the bar area for some time and when she returned she walked in on an unexpected but rehearsed ongoing joke Gojo had...for the past 5 years.

"No way you're shorter than 6’1 dude!” Shoko's roommate's boyfriend exclaimed in disbelief.

"No, trust me, I'm 5'10"," Gojo reaffirmed, his expression conveying a mix of resignation and humor.

"Babe, aren't you like 6'1"?" Shoko's roommate asked her boyfriend, lightly tapping his arm, seeking confirmation.

"Yeah, of course—" he began to respond but was interrupted by Shoko.

"But how come Gojo is taller than you?" she interjected, curiosity evident in her voice as she glanced briefly at Gojo and gave a silent knowing look 

The crowd of people surrounding them exchanged glances, their interest piqued by the unexpected conversation.

"I think he's lying!" someone chimed in, voicing the skepticism that had started to arise.

"Why would they both lie?" another person wondered aloud, their confusion mirroring the sentiment of the crowd.

Gojo shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Hey, I can't help it if genetics decided to have some fun with me. Height isn't everything, you know."

“Does someone have a ruler?” The roommate’s boyfriend called out. 

“Hey! Remember this is an all-girls apartment…we don’t keep rulers at our bedsides...” Shoko joked as the crowd laughed. 

“But believe me, his parents are both short— I was in shock when I saw how tall he was compared to them.” She said adding to the joke. 

“Pfft whatever,” the boyfriend said as he was he took a gulp of his drink. 

The group dispersed gradually as the conversation moved on. Shoko made her way to Gojo sometime into the party and stood shoulder to shoulder with Gojo. 

 “I can’t believe you remembered that joke,” Gojo whispered amused. 

“It hasn’t been that long…” She said playfully rolling her eyes. 

“Still— love how you still play into it.” 

They both took a sip of their respective drink both alcoholic and for Gojo—Coke.

“Sooo, if you’re 5’10 what does that make me?”

 “Short as hell.” He said without hesitation. 

She playfully nudged him. 

“But I think it’s cute.” He mockingly ducked down to kiss her, “Damn the weather down here is a lot hotter…or maybe it’s you who knows.” He shrugged with a grin as he stood up straight again. 

Shoko chuckled and gently pushed him away. "Oh, so now you're using your height advantage for cheesy pick-up lines? Smooth, Gojo, real smooth." She rolled her eyes with a smirk. 

Gojo grinned mischievously. "Hey, can't blame me for trying. Gotta use all the tools in my arsenal, you know?"

Shoko took another sip of her drink, shaking her head in mock disapproval. "I suppose I can let it slide this time. But don't get too comfortable, mister. You'll have to come up with something better than that if you want to impress me."