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Yuuta’s mind was a mess.
But over time, it had slowly gotten better.
He had finally felt the most well-adjusted he'd ever felt in his entire life and that had only happened a few short months ago. It was exactly what he wanted, exactly what he needed, to begin to heal the hole left in himself from Rika’s departure. To patch up the tears. Mend the scars upon scars in his soul.
But then, with a single request, his world had fallen apart again.
He felt Gojo’s hand rest sturdily on his shoulder as he walked forward but looked back at everything he had thought of as his before boarding a plane that he wouldn't get off of again until he was thousands of miles away.
“This will help everyone?” Yuuta asked for not the first time.
“Of course it will,” Gojo responded with that too-wide smile he gave when he was both being very honest and very unhonest simultaneously, “This is very important.”
“And it has to be me?”
“Of course it does,” Gojo's smile didn't waver, “There's quite literally no one else.”
Being torn away from his newfound comfort and nowfound calm left him in a worse state than he had started in. At least before he never knew what it was to have and now experienced what it was to have not.
And it was so much worse.
He fell into a pattern of nightmares again, different and new, no longer dripping with the anxiety of what Rika’s power could do, but with the anxiety of what the lack of her power could mean for him. For his found family of friends. For the future. For the world.
He often woke up in a sweat, reaching out for things that weren't there. Couldn't be there. Would never be there when he was here.
Gojo had taught him coping mechanisms, temporary techniques to divert the weight on his mind and push through with his daily existence with the mantra of: Calm down, reset, continue. Protect yourself because by protecting yourself you are protecting others. One step at a time can become a thousand steps forward. Keep moving. Keep getting stronger. Keep going. Keep going keep going keep going keep…
He twisted and molded his energy into a new Rika. A not-Rika Rika… A copy. A falsity. A mere echo of who and what she was before, hoping, praying that it could be enough. But she looked...wrong. No matter what he did he could not get her to look right. So she remained in a new form, a different form, forever reminding him that things were not the same. That he was not the same.
And he was so unsure what that meant.
“Don’t you want to be the strongest?”
Yuuta sighed as he sat down in the bath in the small hostel they had posted up in for the week. It was unfortunately more of a shower than a bath. He missed Japanese-style tubs, the high sides quite literally acting as a wall between him at his most vulnerable and the outside world, a specific kind of everyday comfort that was hard to duplicate. This shower had little more than a low lip to prevent water from spilling out into the rest of the bathroom and a curtain… nothing more than a paper-thin barrier by comparison.
He pulled his legs to his chest as the hot water ran over his head and down his back, washing away the dirt, sweat, blood and whatever else had ended up coating his body that day. His eyes slowly followed the red and black and brown stains taint the clear water before swirling down the drain.
How many times would he have to wash everything away just to wake up and repeat the process again?
He leaned his head forward and let the water push his hair into a wet curtain that obstructed his vision, creating the smallest, smallest place to hide.
“Don’t you want to be the strongest?”
He let out another sigh, longer and deeper, pushing as much air from his lungs as he could, attempting to empty himself of the very essence of this place. This situation. This mission.
He had so much to do. And so, so many things he felt he could not.
Every day the weight grew and grew, threatening to crush him and then everyone he was holding it above in turn...Because this was very important.
And there was quite literally no one else.
“Don’t you want to be the strongest?”
Truthfully, all he really wanted was…
“Yuuta.”
Yuuta felt a prickling under his skin as he heard his name through the phone line, the static sensation of Toge’s cursed speech ran through his body like a current, searching for something, anything to grab onto within his consciousness.
Yuuta was curled into his small bed in his, thankfully, private room. When he was granted such luxuries, he always called Toge.
“...Yuuta...Yuuta…”
The words from Toge’s mouth could do so many things if they had a direction or a purpose. But...
Yuuta’s name, in Toge’s voice, was safe. It could be said freely, as often as Toge wanted, without consequence.
They'd figured this out a while ago.
Toge had conveyed to Yuuta once that names had tones associated with them: voice, tense, mood, underlying animosity or affection, attentiveness or dismissal, how whomever’s name was being said felt about their name being said… all these things mattered deeply when saying a name.
It made them dangerous. Unless Toge was able to maintain complete neutrality when speaking them, without something actionable to direct the person to do, the speech got to decide how to interpret what the name meant.
And Yuuta could only imagine how he had come to learn that.
But...
This weird rule, this need for caution... never seemed to have an effect on Yuuta’s name.
No matter Toge's intent, no matter Toge's temperament, no matter Toge's speech pattern or emphasis... Yuuta's name never had a negative effect when it came out of his mouth. There were no stings or bites, no aftershock, no whispered suggestions into his ear that even Toge was unaware of.
Just a thrum, a hum, a buzz of static that could never quite latch on.
Toge's voice lulled him into a sense of mental pause the same way the pattering white noise of rain thrumming against a window might. A hum of a fan in a bedroom late at night. The soft buzzing of cicadas outdoors in the summertime.
“…uta…”
His voice felt like...
“Are you asleeeep?”
Toge’s question came across the line as a playful, raspy whisper, vocal cords unfamiliar with forming the combination of syllables in the question.
The static reverberated under Yuuta’s skin again, spreading from his ear down his spine as the question ran through him.
Toge was still careful, even now, even knowing that if he had miscalculated anything about the question the result would simply be that Yuuta fell asleep... it was an essentially harmless inquiry.
If Yuuta had more energy, he would have laughed. Instead, he simply smiled despite knowing Toge wouldn’t be able to see it on the voice call.
“...No.” Yuuta slurred back a few seconds later, nearly unconvincingly, the sleepiness he had just tried to deny, heavy on his own words, although not due to any curse.
Yuuta would hand his self-control over to Toge if Toge ever wanted to take it. He had decided this a long time ago even if he had not relayed this sentiment directly to Toge himself. He wouldn’t resist it or push back, allowing the static to fully overtake his senses and direct him to do… well anything. Anything.
Toge was always so careful.
Always so kind.
Yuuta trusted him. More than anyone else. More than himself if he was being honest. If Toge wanted him to do something, needed him to do something, he knew it would be for his own good.
“Bonito flakes,” Toge’s voice came back in a soft, broken huff of words which Yuuta knew meant he found that answer amusing.
“M'not lying…”
He heard Toge hum and the sound of his voice, even wordless, caused a prickle under Yuuta’s skin again.
“Maybe, I shouldn’t have called…” Yuuta said teasingly, knowing full well that he would never miss a chance to call.
“Bonito flakes.”
“That’s... true.”
“...Yuuta.”
Over time Yuuta had started to believe Toge did this on purpose. A small means of comfort that could be given him from far away, even if he couldn’t be there. At first, he felt bad, taking advantage of his friend's ability for his own respite and monopolizing their conversation for his own benefit. But over time he began to think that maybe these words were being freely given.
Because Toge really seemed to like saying his name.
“Yuuta.”
Yuuta could only imagine what it would be like to feel the words whispered directly into his ears, without the barrier of a phone. He wanted to feel a puff of air and the brush from Toge’s lips as he leaned in close like they were exchanging secrets. He wanted to feel their limbs entangle together as they shifted, fighting for the most comfortable position on the bed before Toge relented and allowed Yuuta to hold him close against his chest. He wanted to feel Toge’s hair tickle his nose as he was flooded with the familiar smell of citrus shampoo as they drifted off to sleep together in the same time zone for once.
“I... miss you, too. So much.”
“Yuuta.”
Miles apart. Across oceans. Half a world away. Within the gentle caress of static that lulled his body into a state of unparalleled comfort.
Toge’s voice still felt like...
Reminded him of...
The feeling of… the promise of…
“Yuuuuuuuta.”
Home.