Archive of Our Own

We aren’t born alone. From the moment we’re in the womb, we’re connected to something bigger. Mothers are the first people we love, the first people that love us. We’re connected with the umbilical cord, with a string of birth. When we step into the harsh white lights of the Earth, a doctor cuts that connection. As we’re embraced by new people, our mothers aren’t the only ones that love us anymore. As the doctor cuts that piece of us that belonged to our mothers, a new string appears around our hearts. It extends through our veins into our pinky finger, an invisible thread that connects to an unknown being. We’re birthed into a new connection. We’re connected to a new person that’s destined to fill that small empty space in our hearts that nothing else seems to fill. The two people that are connected by the red string of faith are destined to be lovers, regardless of time, place or circumstance. The thread might stretch or tangle, but it would never break.

❆

“Getou…” His mother says softly, stroking the ends of his hair, slowly.

“Mhm”

“Do you want to hear a story?”

“Yes” The boys’ eyes light up, he hopes it’s his favourite one.

“When the Gods made us, they tied a string around our pinkies” Getou smiles and closes his eyes, he knows the story by heart but will never get tired of hearing it. “There was once a brave prince, who had a unique ability. He could see everyone’s red string. Ladies and merchants and people from all around the world would come to his castle, offering rubies and gold and beautiful paintings, in return for the prince to guide them towards their destiny. Their soulmate. The prince was young and kind, he helped everyone. He gently tugged the invisible string that no one else could see and people found their hearts beating like never before. They ran out of the castle, knowing exactly where to find their person.” She poked her son’s ribs to confirm he was still awake. Getou giggled.

“Continue, ma” He said. He closed his eyes and pictured the story in his mind as if it were a movie.

“Soon enough, the prince became king. Everybody loved him, his kingdom had never been so filled with love, because everyone could find exactly who they were destined to be with. The king continued to help but now his eyes where sad, tired, filled with a heaviness that could only come with loneliness. The poor king couldn’t see his own string. He’d talked with philosophers and witches and no one could see his future. Not in his palms, not in the stars… the king was a mystery. By the time he was forty his kingdom demanded for an heir. But the king couldn’t find anyone that felt right, no woman could make him feel complete. One day a man came to the castle with an offering of pink camellias and carnations. For the first time, the king could see no string around the person’s finger. The man and the king wept together and cursed destiny for making them feel so alone. After that day, the king no longer had the gift of being able to see the red string. No one ever possessed the gift again. And…on his last day on this earth, he saw the red string forming around his little finger, it led somewhere but the poor King couldn’t walk. He cursed fate with his dying breath and the legend says that he’s every red string on the earth now. Always destined to connect two people, but never able to feel that connection. He’s bound to tie people forever and his spirit is what makes the string unbreakable.”

“Mum…” Getou smiled at the almost tragic story. He always loved it

“Yes?”

“Did you make that story up?” He was old enough already to understand that magic wasn’t necessarily a real thing, and neither was fate. His mother smiled and kissed his temple lightly. “Don’t you think it’s unfair we don’t get to choose who our soulmate is?”

“No, Getou. When you find them you’ll understand why”

“Did you find him, mum?”

“It’s just a story, go to sleep now”

❆

“Aren’t we going to…actually I have no idea where we’re supposed to be going” Gojo Satoru said as he scratched the back of his head and looked idiotically at Getou. Getou wanted to punch Satoru until his brain worked properly, but according to Shoko, that would simply make it worse. They had known each other for two months now, and Getou still couldn’t stand the boy. He was infuriating, not remembering important details, not paying attention, pretending to be the strongest, being the strongest.

“We’re on our way to Minato City” Getou said, making his voice sickly sweet, as if he were talking to a child. He stopped to remind himself that they were both, in fact, still children. It was a hard thing to remember when you were exorcising spirits and fighting all day. Gojo rested his head back and sighed.

“I hope there’s a good mochi shop around, I have a craving” Gojo said, eyes closed. Getou wanted to punch him so bad. The boy must have noticed because he turned and looked at him. Intoxicatingly blue eyes bored into him, as if Gojo was staring at his soul. “You always look like you’re a second away from trying to exorcise me” Getou laughed, he wasn’t as good as hiding emotions as he thought he was. Not like Gojo. Getou had to wonder if the boy had ever actually felt a deep emotion, he was always energetic, always smiling.

“Maybe I am” Gojo looked out the window. They passed buildings and houses and concrete everywhere. People didn’t seem to like him all that much

“I’m not so bad, you know?” There was a hint of insecurity in his voice, because what if he was?

“Maybe try to show it once in a while” Gojo rolled his eyes and refused to talked to Getou for the rest of the mission.

❆

Yaga seemed to like them working together a little too much. Gojo was as pleased as Getou about this. Shoko joined them every other mission, but usually it was just them. It was harder spending time together than exorcising the curses. Their rivalry lasted for months, constantly at each other’s throats, because, honestly, neither boy did anything to be less of a pain to the other. Halfway through their first year one of their missions had its first casualty. Usually having casualties was a normal thing on your first mission, but Gojo and Getou where good and they always tried. They knew it was bound to happen someday, but it didn’t prepare them for how terrible it felt. Yaga knew exactly what had happened when they arrived at the high school and neither wanted to talk, or fight with the other. Gojo seemed to be spacing out every two minutes, having to leave the report to Getou. As much as Getou disliked the boy, he continued to glance at him worriedly. It wasn’t easy for him either, but Gojo was the type of person that you’d expect to be strong in this kind of situation, the kind that would crack a joke and lighten the mood. But now, he looked like a kicked puppy. Yaga dismissed Gojo first. He walked as quickly as he could to his room. Nothing felt real and everything was his fault. He couldn’t have choked back the sobs even if he’d tried.

Gojo’s room was on the way to the vending machine, or so did Getou tell himself. He paced around his room for an hour until finally deciding on visiting Gojo. It was muffled, but he could hear Gojo crying from outside. It shocked him, making him feel a horrible abyss in his stomach. He knocked on the door.

“Yes?” His voice was raspy and thick with tears.

“Gojo…I’m coming in” He decided he was way past asking. He couldn’t leave Gojo alone crying. The boy was violently trying to clear the tears from his cheeks, but it was useless as they didn’t seem to have stopped dropping from his eyes. “Don’t bother” Getou sat on the floor, next to him. When he lifted his head, Getou had to look for air. His eyes where such a beautiful colour. He couldn’t compare them to anything else, they seemed slightly other worldly, for some people the colour might have been too much. “It wasn’t your fault”

“It doesn’t feel that way”

“Yeah…put the blame on me if you want” Getou said softly. Gojo shook his head.

“It wasn’t your fault” The tears came like a waterfall again. This time Getou wrapped his arm around him.

❆

It was their second year at jujutsu tech. Everyone seemed to like them wherever they went, especially Getou. As much as he had dozens of people lining up to date him, Gojo was the first one to get a girlfriend. Getou found her…uninteresting. It felt like Gojo was undermining herself by dating such a bland girl. She was a childhood friend of his, her name was Sara. At least, she was a sorcer, even though not a particularly good one. Gojo looked happy with her, Getou had noticed it, but they looked like friends. Sara looked like a piece of Gojo’s childhood that he was trying to cling on to. Regardless of what Getou thought, they dated for about four months.

They had been watching a movie on a Saturday night, Sara had quickly changed the scenery into a makeut session. Gojo had to admit that he was disinterested in either. Everything felt right about her…except this. Gojo liked spending time with her, going out to restaurants and gardens and playing poker, but kissing her was always a pain. As he closed his eyes, the only thing he could do to not find the kiss revolting, was picture a different face. He hated it. But as Sara’s short brown hair changed into a longer darker one, it was easier to bear.

“Satoru” Sara turned her cheek, she was usually the one trying not to break the kiss.

“Yeah?”

“When you kiss me…” She looked away, embarrassed. “Do you think of someone else?” The question left Gojo speechless, he felt frozen. How could she possibly know?

“I…uhm…” a coherent sentence didn’t seem possible at the moment.

“You do, don’t you?” Sara smiled weakly.

“Sara…I have no idea what you’re talking about” Gojo was so confused that his brain ached. Because he did all those things Sara was saying, but he’d never admitted it to himself. Somehow, in the past months he’d deceived himself into thinking that he was kissing Sara all this time.

“It’s fine, I guess I don’t blame you. We can’t help who we love, right...who is she?” She? Everything felt so wrong about she. “Oh, come on Gojo, if you can’t admit it to me at least admit it to yourself. Is it Shoko?”

“No, of course not” Sara didn’t seem so understanding anymore. She got up from his bead, and picked all her stuff. “Sara…”

“Not loving the person you’re with is a horrible thing to do Gojo, I hope you never do it again.” She slammed the door behind her and Gojo still couldn’t move. Nothing made sense. His brain seemed to whisper that he knew, deep down he knew. Long black hair, eyes darker than night…no, no, no. He shook the thoughts away. His doorknob turned.

“What’d you do to that poor girl” Getou Suguru stood in his doorframe, he looked amused.

“Why does everyone always assume it’s me? Is it so difficult to believe that I got my heart broken?” Gojo smiled at his best friend… and suddenly it hit him. It hit him harder than a storm in the middle of summer, like a hurricane in September. That was the difference between Sara and Getou. It was difficult to explain what it was, but it was loud and clear. He couldn’t help smiling when Getou was around, his muscles seemed to tingle and he felt like another person…someone better.

“Well did you?” He closed the door behind him and walked to sit down next to Gojo on his bed.

“She broke up with me”

“Was it because of something you did?” Gojo gave him a look

“I hate you” Getou laughed

“What did you do?”

“I don’t know Suguru…it’s complicated. I don’t want to think about it now” Getou could tell that he was being serious. It felt odd to have Gojo feeling strained, it felt wrong, like he needed to make him feel joyful again. Getou fished his pockets for headphones and an iPod. He held them and Gojo smiled. They did this whenever something felt wrong. Gojo laid back and let Getou put on whatever he wanted to. As soon as the first note bloomed in his ear, Gojo new what song it was. He smiled at Getou and turned to his side to look at him.

“Sweet thing, I watch you

Burn so fast it scares me

Mind games, don’t leave me”

It was one of Gojo’s favourite songs. Getou always played it when he was feeling down. Getou picked a strand of Gojo’s hair and brushed it back. The white-haired boy closed his eyes, because this felt right, this felt so right. He fell asleep quickly.

“ Hey, hey lover, you're still burning
You're his song yeah ”

❆

“We should go to the party” Getou said, breaking their comfortable silence. It was nine and they’d been snacking and watching movies all day.

“Do you actually want to go?” Gojo said, while decapitating a gummy bear.

“No…but we should, they’ll stop inviting us otherwise”

“I’m fine with that”

“Ugh…let’s go for once. It might be fun” Getou said, nudging Gojo.

“I know you don’t actually believe that” Getou’s eyes where pleading. “If you actually want to, I’ll go” he smiled and stood up, searching Gojo’s closet for something to wear.

“Don’t make a mess”

“Like I would” He always did.

An hour later, they stood in front of a huge house with booming music playing from everywhere.

“We can still go back” Gojo offered, a hint of hope in his voice. 

“Let’s go in” Getou said and opened the door, Gojo’s disappointed groan was left outside. There were people everywhere, some friends from their school and the Kyoto school, and people who neither had any idea who they were. Getou grabbed a beer from the fridge. Gojo contemplated his surroundings, he wasn’t going to make it through the night of he stayed sober. He didn’t like to drink, usually. The bar was packed with everything you could’ve wanted. Gojo sighed and poured himself a shot of vodka.

Next thing he knew, he was dancing with everyone. Oh, how he would hate himself in the morning. He wasn’t sober enough to think about that. He hadn’t seen Getou in at least an hour, but there were too many people.

“Want a drink?” Yua, a third-year girl offered him a shot glass with a smile. He took it and clicked their glasses.

“One, two, thr-.” It didn’t burn his throat anymore and he was having fun. His limbs felt slightly numb but he spun the girl and danced with her for a while. She looked friendly, and didn’t have that I-want-to-kiss-you look.

“Did you come here alone?” She half screamed.

“No, I came with Getou…he’s here somewhere” Gojo wished with everything he had that he hadn’t looked for Getou in that moment. Yua followed his gaze. He was kissing a girl. Gojo’s heart seemed to tighten, but he didn’t know why. His heart was on the floor, being stepped on by dancing feet. When he finally pulled enough strength to look away, Yua met him with an understanding gaze. The understanding gaze adults gave you when they pretended to know more than you did. It infuriated him, being looked at like that, because he didn’t understand. The music was suddenly too loud, and people where too close to him and it felt like Getou had just punched him in the gut.

He left Yua and walked out of the house, chilly summer air pricking his face. He sat at the steps. Waiting, waiting, waiting. He couldn’t leave alone and he couldn’t talk to Getou. It drove him insane because he had no reason to be angry or sad, but he was. A miserable hour passed until Getou exited the house. His face was stoic, slightly tired, and his neck was beginning to bloom with lip shaped bruises. Gojo looked away and walked without talking. It was a fifteen-minute bus ride back to the school and Getou’s presence was getting too much.

“Well? Did you have fun?” Getou asked with a smile. Gojo wanted to punch it off his face. Why did he feel like this? He wanted to punch himself too, he had to be happy for his friend, happy that he had a good time. Gojo simply shrugged, the right words wouldn’t come.

“You?” Getou shrugged too. “It looked like you did” Getou looked away, slightly embarrassed.

“It sucked”

Gojo tried to feel bad for the girl, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

❆

It was another snowy Sunday, their moods where down but the snow brought a coat of peace to everyone. it fell slowly and weightless and Getou thought it looked like Gojo’s hair. He said it teasingly, and they both pretended not to acknowledge the fact that Getou’s favourite season was winter. They spent most of those days in Getou’s room, it had bigger windows and felt cozier for some reason. Trees covered the sides of the window. In spring, no one would be able to see them from the outside. But now the trees were bare and instead of green blooms they had a veil of white. No one went outside when it was this cold. They felt like kids in this weather.

“Let’s play Infinity” Getou said. They were underneath his bed covers, with more blankets than they needed. Gojo smiled and took his hand out of the warmth of the covers. Infinity was a game Gojo invented to show off in first year. Basically, he would use his technique and Getou would try to hold his hand.

Minutes passed in laughs and a warmth of the bones that no hearth could duplicate. Gojo activated his technique and Getou got closer and closer every time. When Getou tried his full strength, Gojo released his technique and let their hands clash. They laughed, foreheads clashing too.

“You cheated” Getou accused, still holding his hand. It made him dizzy. He thought of his mother’s red string story, if Gojo isn’t my soulmate I would find a way to cut my string and attach it to him. The thought came and went in a blink, leaving him in a daze.

“I invented the game, I make the rules, I say it’s not cheating” Getou’s hand in his felt perfect. Everything felt so perfect that it hurt. It felt scary, the thought of getting older, of Getou forgetting about him, of moments like this being a memory that only he would remember. Gojo tightened his grip, trying to make himself land. Why was he thinking of a bad future, tainting the moment? He shook the feeling away and looked at Getou. They were always going to be friends.

“You’re just scared I might win”

“You wouldn’t win”

“I might” Gojo rolled his eyes at that.

“Where are your headphones?”

“Bedside table” Gojo grabbed them and plugged them into the device. Getou was disappointed at his now cold hand, so was Gojo. They each grabbed one side and Gojo scrolled to find what he wanted.

“This song’s in here like four times” Gojo smiled

“Yeah, it’s one of your favourites isn’t it?”

“I don’t know why I like it so much.” Gojo laid back down and looked at Getou, he put his hand up, as if to play Infinity again. Getou smiled when he was able to intertwine their fingers and not just touch the infinity that separated them.

‘Lost and lonely

You

Strange as angels

Dancing in the deepest oceans

Twisting in the water

You’re just like a dream’

Those where the only lyrics Gojo sang, he said Roberts voice was the best there. The last line he yelled, which received a loud knock and a ‘SHUT UP’ from Shoko who was passing by.

❆

As winter settled in, Gojo found himself making more and more excuses to spend more time with Getou, and Getou made excuses to hold his hand. Spending evenings in Getou’s room, talking, was now almost a daily occurrence.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” Getou asked, his mother’s story still fresh in his memory.

“Mmm…yeah but maybe not. I suppose fate made a person for all of us, but I think you can choose who it is. It’s not like the sky will come down to tell you if you’re wrong” Getou frowned, Gojo was right.

“But don’t you think you’re wasting your life if you’re not with the person you’re with?”

“I don’t think… I don’t think being with someone is what we’re here for, Suguru”

“Then what?” Getou always found it interesting, how they thought so differently and similar at the same time. He wondered if his mother ever told him the story of the king, maybe that’s what made them different.

“I don’t know…I don’t want to think about that” That was Gojo’s answer to things that he thought too much about. Things that if he actually let himself question, might crack his skull in two. He had too many answers and none of them were enough. Getou rolled his eyes.

“It won’t kill you to think” Gojo slapped his arm playfully.

“I want to think that we’re here to do something…but” But now that I met you, I would settle for not doing anything for the rest of my life. It wouldn’t be settling, I would love to spend the rest of my life with you, doing nothing except loving you. That thought had appeared a few months ago, the thought of spending his life with Getou, of loving him. He’d let it make a home in the corners of his brain, but didn’t pay it much attention, it was stupid to think like that. “Maybe you’re right. But I don’t want you to be right, because then my worth would depend on someone I love loving me back”

“Hmm…”

“This is getting too philosophical it’s splitting my brain.”

“I always knew thinking would kill you” Getou laughed. “Do you want to hear a story?”

“Yeah” Gojo smiled tiredly, it had been a rough training day, and Getou’s bed was always too comfortable.

“Don’t fall asleep”

“I won’t”

Getou didn’t know why, but the only story that felt right was the one of the red string. He told it as his mother had, adding small things or changing them to suit his voice.  Gojo’s eyes closed from time to time but he always opened them again. Looking at Getou with adoration. They were closer than usual, Gojo told himself it was to hear the story clearer. But the truth was that he naturally drifted towards his friend, like tulips to the sun. Gojo liked the story, and he loved Getou’s voice. When he finished, the silence settled and he closed his eyes for a minute longer. If he concentrated enough, he might have been able to hear the soft drop of the snowflakes.

“Are you asleep?” Getou almost whispered

“No” He opened his eyes and left a soft gaze settled on Getou’s dark eyes.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes, I loved it, I love your voice” Gojo cringed as he realized what he’d said, Getou’s laugh eased the weird feeling. Getou searched for his hand and held it.

“You never say things like that”

“I don’t usually say what I feel” It could’ve been the snow, or the dark, or Getou’s hand in his, but Gojo suddenly realized the severity of what it was that he felt. He loved Getou, he loved him. It kicked the air out of his lungs.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want people to know. You don’t say stuff like that either.”

“You wouldn’t want to hear it” Getou said with a slight smile. He had many things he wanted to say but was Gojo going to get weirded out? People always seemed to feel less than he did, or at least from what they showed. He was afraid people would find him too sentimental.

“You think I wouldn’t like a compliment?” Gojo half faked an outraged face.

“Hmm… you’re right, you narcissist. I don’t have to compliment you more than you compliment yourself”

“That was low”

“I’m kidding, don’t go on crying now” He brushed Gojo’s hair back with his free hand, ruffling it after settling it in place. His white hair covered his forehead and eyes, it was getting longer

“Don’t do that” Gojo said. Getou brushed it back again, finding excuses indeed. “I hate it when people touch my hair”

“Do you want me to stop, then?” His voice was teasing. Getou already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it anyway.

“Shut up…you’re an exception” He seemed to be an exception for many things those days.

❆

“You bought flowers?” Getou asked, as Gojo let him in to his room.

“Yeah, I bought flowers” A vase full of camellias and tulips stood on his desk. The pocky boxes, candy wrappers and chocolate bars next to them looked slightly out of place. Gojo had been drawing something, but he closed the sketchbook before Getou could get a look. There were still some things that his mind told him should stay private.

“Why?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“I suppose not” Gojo was on edge, Getou felt it from the moment he opened the door. Missions had been going well, so it couldn’t be that. “Is something wrong?”

“No”

“Alright, if you say so” Getou eyed him suspiciously as he sighed. For the first time since they’d met, Getou felt like he was actually bothering Gojo simply with his presence.

“Are you leaving tomorrow?”

“Maybe, you?” Christmas break started tomorrow. They had a week. Getou would go home to his parents. But Gojo… the more he thought about it, the more he realized he knew nothing about his best friends’ family.

“Someone has to keep working”

“I can stay with you, if you want” The thought came naturally, Getou meant it. What he actually wanted to say was I want to stay with you, I don’t want you to be alone.

“No, it’s fine, your mum will miss you too much” Gojo forced a smile.

“She wouldn’t mind…you would miss me too much” The truth is that she would mind, just a little. They weren’t big on December celebrations, and he would be bored on the third day back home, but quality time was rarer and rarer. “I’ll call her, she’ll be fine. I’ll go home in January”

“Getou…” Gojo shook his head, staring at an unknown spot on the floor.

“I’m staying”

That week changed everything for them. They were only assigned one mission, which went fine and the rest was spent as they usually spent their days. Playing Infinity, listening to music, running in the snow, the occasional movie…but it all felt different. The school building was almost deserted and their footsteps echoed everywhere they went. No one was there to hear them laugh, so they did it as loud as their lungs would allow. Gojo’s heart did weird things every time they locked eyes, and his heart was constantly trying to escape his ribcage and jump to Getou. They loved each other, and they both knew it. Yet, neither said or did anything. It felt like the songs they listened to. We’re wasting so much time.

On Christmas Eve, Gojo awoke to a knock on his door.

“Just come in!” He knew it was Getou, no one else would come to see him this early in the morning. He heard plastic wrappings and footsteps, then the door close.

“You sleep with the door unlocked?!”

“Mhm, how else would you come in? I’m not getting up” Getou sat on the bed with a plop and placed a bouquet on Gojo’s back. “Merry Christmas” He was smiling as Gojo sat up.

“You bought me flowers?” A dozen black tulips in his hand and a heart getting too tight to breathe, Gojo looked at his friend.

“Well, you seem keen on them lately” He tried not to let his insecurity show in his voice. But it was an odd thing, wasn’t it? Giving flowers to a boy, your best friend…your best friend who you’re in love with. Gojo laughed, he’d always been keen on flowers.

“Thank you” the words sounded odd coming from Gojo. They sounded so genuine. “I’ve never had black flowers before…they look like your eyes” He said placing the flowers next to Suguru’s eyes. It felt like a strange thing to do, if anyone else had done it. Getous eyes trailed Gojo. His messy hair, which looked slightly better than it did when he brushed it, his eye bags that betrayed his energetic eyes, his sky-blue jumper, which was falling to one side, revealing his collarbone. The room was always messy, but it always smelt good, like fresh flowers or peppermint or tangerine. Gojo’s loopy smile. Getou had never wanted to kiss it more. He might have been staring for too long, because Gojo put the flowers aside and closed the distance between them. Getou always thought he’d be the first to do it. It was short, a soft peck. When he pulled away Getou was left motionless. Gojo looked happy, maybe a little proud.

“I…” Getou didn’t know what to say.

“Am I that good of a kisser?”

“Oh, shut up”

“Shut me” Getou rolled his eyes, but he did it anyway.

❆

Neither of them knew exactly what it was that they’d been missing. When they were together, even before any kiss, the empty burns in their hearts seemed to fill up with sunlight, just for a while, everything was alright. Winter melting with the almost warm breeze, spring scented air all around them, it was intoxicating. Flowers wouldn’t be blooming for at least a month, but snow fell only every other day, and some days Gojo would find Getou’s bedroom windows opened, a soft breeze coming in. Years later Gojo wondered if what they said about love being a drug was true in more ways than one. More about the destructive side, don’t they say drugs come with nothing good? Was love the same? Gojo pushed the thought aside, trying to make it disappear. He remembered small things about that time now. They were always like a stab to the back. Weird scents, like the ones the black tulips had carried that Christmas morning, or the scent of a particular jasmine candle Getou loved. Things that at the moment he hadnt payed much attention too, but now where all he had left. The sound of his laughter when he had the misfortune of being in a cab with the radio on and the driver played songs he used to like. Later, when Megumi looked at Itadori with kind eyes that held the same warmth as Getou’s once had, the hair gel Megumi used, which for a few weeks had had a similar scent as Getou’s, Gojo couldn’t take it any longer and bought Megumi a new one, throwing the other in the trash. These things came to him once in a blue moon, but still they shook him so deeply, to every cell, that he couldn’t move for a few seconds. All the memories seemed to rush through him, like his life before dying. He remembered every single thing, even though on most days he couldn’t work up a clear image of more than a couple moments. When the memories came, life seemed so heavy, that he thought he might be crushed by it. Love, and the ghosts that it left, were the only cursed spirits that Gojo was ever truly afraid of.

❆

“What am I thinking?” Getou asked. It was well past midnight, dawn was close, but neither had noticed any time passing by. The laid side by side, Gojo in Getou’s clothes.

“This is stupid” Gojo said. He loved the idea, actually, but embarrassment crawled up to him in any moment. He thought about what his family would think of him playing such a childish thing, it made him shake his head with a nauseous feeling. A group of ants seemed to have crawled to his shoulder, as Getou’s back hand hit him teasingly.

“It isn’t. Guess”

“I don’t know…” Gojo sighed, whatever he said would probably be wrong.

“Guess Satoru, don’t be an ass”

“Are you thinking about…” Me? Gojo thought, he wanted to say it, but he was probably wrong. Getou sighed again, moving a little bit closer so their shoulders bumped. “Birds?”

“No” Getou laughed. “Why in the world would I be thinking about that, Gojo? Guess again”

“The last song we heard?”

“No”

“Mmm…you’re actually just thinking about what I think you’re thinking”

“That makes no sense, I’m not”

“It makes a lot of sense, you’re just too daft to understand it” Getou laughed again, the sound filling the room with a sickly-sweet feeling that made Gojo nervous and calm at the same time.

“Guess again”

“You’re thinking about me” it came out as a statement.

“Hmm see you aren’t as daft as me” Gojo smiled.

“Why are you thinking about me?”

“Because you’re next to me”

“Mmm…” There was a short silence. The ceiling seemed to be moving, Gojo couldn’t understand why he had such an impact on him. Getou made him feel hazy, the best feeling he’d ever had, but it was almost too much.

“Because… I like you”

“This would be rather weird if you didn’t”

“That’s not what I mean” Getou said, laughter still booming in his chest. Gojo turned to look at him.

“Well, I sure hope so”

“I…” Getou started to say what he’d wanted to say since Christmas morning, subconsciously, a long time before. The words stuck to his throat. Gojo won’t say them back. He always ended up feeling more for people than what they felt about him, fatal flaw. Was Gojo serious about them, or was he just bored? Just staying with him because he was there?

“Say it” Gojo’s voice was shaky, a slight tremble no one else would’ve noticed. He said it with confidence yet insecurity, it made a tangle in Getou’s brain.  Did he already know?

“I think…” His words were caged again.

“You think?” Gojo turned to lie on his side. Sky blue eyes boring into his skeleton.

“Gojo” he said exasperated.

“Getou…”

“I love you” the words spat out of his mouth, and he had to resist the urge to slap a hand against his mouth and beg Gojo to forget he’d just said it. Gojo smiled, paper white teeth almost shining. That moment, Gojo always remembered. He could see the memory in a bird’s eye view. Getou’s bangs softly tangled around his pillow, a single strand in an awkward position around his eye. His nervous tick of biting the inside of his cheek. Gojo blushed a scandalous shade of crimson, his pale skin wasn’t fond of emotion. Getou felt a cold hand at his neck, pulling his hair out of his face, untangling a few messy strands. His heart quickened as Gojo’s lips stayed glued together. Finally, he opened them against Getou’s mouth.

“I love you.”

❆

His eyes where a colour I couldn’t compare to anything else. They were a combination of the water that poured out of the sky on those first days of spring and the sea in a postcard that someone sends you when they miss you, but not enough to make them come back. I couldn’t stand that thought, because I knew he would leave me someday. As much as he promised he wouldn’t, I knew I would never be enough of a reason for him to stay. I couldn’t be left by Gojo, it would’ve killed me, I was sure of it.

He looked peaceful when he slept, even though I knew he was everything but. I let myself wonder who would hold him next, who would hug him until he felt human again, when nightmares woke him up in the middle of the night. I knew he would be alone; it broke my heart. But I suppose that pain wasn’t enough. Was the love enough? It was, it is. But he would have to come to me, I wasn’t going to stay back like a dog.

I closed the door behind my room, my room which had become our room in the past years. And I closed the door of my heart too, because without it closed, I would have never moved from that place. I would’ve run back inside and shaken Gojo awake until he was clinging on to me, I would’ve told him everything I was thinking about doing and he would have held me even tighter, he wouldn’t have judged me, he wouldn’t have cared. I hated him for that, I hated him so deeply for being the only person that I would ever allow myself to love. I closed the door.

❆

Gojo laid awake. It was three in the morning, the windows where opened, the light spring breeze moving the curtains in and out, in and out. The air smelled metallic, just enough to make the hairs on his head feel electrified, a storm was coming. A different kind of storm had already begun inside of him though, it seemed right that the weather felt the same. He turned to his right; his side was still warm. His heart hurt more than any physical injury ever had. Thunder sounded outside, bringing a small odd comfort.

When Yaga knocked on his door later that day, Gojo was still in pajamas. His cheeks dry, tears refused to fall, making the hollow feeling in his chest get filled with unshed water, he felt like he was drowning. Yaga’s brows where furrowed, his eyes where clouded, everything about this day felt so wrong.

“Gojo…” Yaga cleared his throat, he was avoiding Gojo’s eyes. As if he didn’t know already.

“He left”

“Yes… he seems to have…murdered an entire village”

Lightning stroked somewhere in the distance, but it might as well have landed in Gojo’s heart. It was breaking, shattering. Yaga’s voice was strained, like he was trying to make the sentence sound normal and failing horribly. Gojo tried to swallow the knot on his throat. Swallowing needles would have been less painful. Every part of his body ached. Yaga looked at him with concerned eyes, his students face hadn’t moved in the slightest, he looked like a statue. Silence settled over them like a veil. Gojo standing at the door, clenched fists, sad eyes. He didn’t invite Yaga inside.

“Did he ask you to go with him?” Yaga broke the silence.

“No” Gojo stared at the floor, Yaga nodded, as if understood.

“Would you have gone with him if he had?” The question startled Gojo, no, what startled him was his own answer.

“I couldn’t have said no”

“Love is the most painful cursed technique” Yaga said, placing a firm hand on his students’ shoulder and turning around.

As if he understood.

❆

It was stupid, genuinely stupid, but Getou couldn’t stop himself. He put his cover at risk by moving around the city, looking for a specific store. He should’ve bought this before but then it would’ve been too real. He would be forced into admitting that he wanted to do the things he was about to do. He bumped into people as he kept his head low, the pain in his shoulders increasing, but bringing a small relief. He could concentrate on that pain, and not the other one.

A small shop with vines all around it stood in front of him. The place looked as old as time, but perfectly strong. No curses where around it, which was odd considering all the things it sold and the age it had. The door was coloured glass, forming in the middle the shape of a human heart. The different colours making it look shattered but whole, it was a strange sight. As he opened the door there was a loud ding, and a young girl was at his side, as if materializing from the shadows. She must have been twelve. She smiled widely at Getou.

“How can I help you, Sir?” he wasn’t used to being called that, it felt wrong.

“Umm… yes hello. I made an order yesterday a woman told me it was ready”

“Yes of course. Come with me please” She tried to walk quickly but her small legs didn’t seem to allow it. She turned around a counter and disappeared from view for a few seconds before jumping back up. “Sorry, sir, I didn’t ask your name. Or the name you used for the order”

“Satoru” he said. He felt wrong saying his name, like he was the poisoned knife that was digging into Gojo’s back. But he had to use a different name, just in case.

The girl appeared a few minutes later with a small package. It was a black box with Satoru written in elegant handwriting. Getou payed the girl and almost ran back to his safe place. He was staying at an old abandoned apartment building. As he sat down on the stiff mattress everything seemed so pointless and stupid. He’d been fighting for the wrong side his entire life. He let that small brush of anger light him with the energy he needed. The box held a single thing. Silver scissors ornamented with rise quartz. He’d consulted a few elders and found that this was the only solution, even if it was just an assumption. He sighed, took them out and stared at them for a while. He used all his cursed energy on his eyes, trying to find even the slightest source of the existence of the red string around his finger. He believed in those tales more than he believed in most things, it embarrassed him slightly. There wasn’t actually any sign of it, but a gust of wind came in through a broken window and he felt something move, he took it as a sign and cut the air around it. He’d cut his red string. He’d had to do it. Maybe he should’ve wondered if Gojo was actually his soulmate, but he couldn’t bring himself to think otherwise. Gojo was everything he’d ever wanted, everything he’d ever needed in a person. Nothing tied them to each other anymore, except the memories, but those where sure to blur with time.

❆

The universe frowned upon them. A string that was once one, now was two, leaving them alone forever. The string dissolved with the passing of the seasons, slowly untangling from each of their fingers. Gojo was cursed enough to be able to see all of it. He hadn’t seen the string until Getou left. He wondered if his subconscious ignored it, or if simply the universe hated him that much. He knew Getou was the one and only all along, but being forced into seeing how they drifted apart not only physically seemed too cruel to be real. A decade later, their fingers had no string around it, they would never have it again.