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Drenched in sweat and almost out of air, Yuuji kept running. His limbs heavy and chin slightly tilted towards the calm sky, in a pitiful attempt of chasing the cloud of breath coming out of his chest.
He was tired. But Yuuji can’t stop.
It’s not a matter of ‘won’t’ but a matter of not being capable of doing it. Because if he stops, it meant welcoming a more searing ache than the state his legs are in right now.
No. He can’t. Even if Yuuji’s eyes burn so much from the thawing pain in his heart; even if Yuuji’s mind is aching with thoughts he can never be able to unsee and unfeel, he needs to do something. He needs to run away.
But fate seems to have had enough of his bullshit and done with his cowardice as he tripped and fell ungraciously towards the wide expanse of earth and dirt.
The wounds should have hurt more; scraped knees and bleeding hands, but funny how it was his heart wailing quietly. And it hurt, because he failed at something so simple as running away again.
So he stayed there; kneeling on the dirt in penitence of incompetencies he could never make up for.
Because Yuuji failed at the one thing he chose to live for. Failed at helping people again. He failed his grandfather. All because he was weak and naïve like what those curses have told him. Every time he tries his best to save people, the universe conspires harder to take them away from him and from this world. He hates it. He hates himself. He hates this unending dance with death who took so much from him.
Lost. Attempts at getting better is so useless. What is the point of killing curses? When people he tried to protect end up dying, anyway? What’s the point of living when his life is hanging by a thread every single day?
Yuuji never understood this kind of cruelty. It’s exhausting. He was a child after all, just like what Nanamin had said.
Ah, Nanamin.
At his lowest moments, Nanamin have always been his valuable source of sanity. Yuuji might’ve had a hard time understanding most of the blond man’s lecture (because he always like to do it in the middle of a fight), yet the subtle hint of warmth beneath those words was undeniable.
Nanamin isn’t a coddling person by nature, but Yuuji knows he cares about him. He may sound detached and pragmatic on the surface, but Yuuji can feel the simmering compassion he’s trying to hold back.
He misses Nanamin. Gojo-sensei is comforting on his own eccentric way but Nanamin just feels like a home he never had. And right now, he badly needs one, just so he could drown the pungent scent of death and blood staining his clothes and skin with Nanamin’s smell of freshly baked bread of his favorite bakery just across the street.
Yuuji haphazardly searched for his phone and dialed the older man’s number.
After the first ring of his phone came the sudden realization that all of this were for naught.
“You’ve reached Nanami Kento’s voice mail, leave a message if it’s important. If it’s you Gojo, don’t even bother calling me again—”
Right.
Yuuji misses this voice so much.
Because he was long gone.
What is Yuuji trying to achieve by calling a dead man?
He’s not coming back, is he?
Yuuji saw it all with his own eyes; Nanamin smiling at him while he stood frozen a few feet away. Suddenly he was gone and Yuuji had failed him so much.
If only he could go back and fix that moment, Yuuji would trade anything just for the chance of seeing Nanamin again. He was more than just a mentor; the man had effortlessly wormed his way in his precious newfound family. And losing him so unexpectedly when he was supposed to go ahead first, Yuuji can’t take it. It’s suffocating.
He needs him back. He had always been the father figure he had dreamed of when he was a child; responsible, dependable and compassionate, one that Yuuji knew who truly cared for him like he was his own blood.
Yuuji is drowning in anger and sorrow; like several arrows were released and dislodged in a bull’s eye right through his beaten heart. It was a numbing experience, as if he was life sentenced to never be able to have even the minimal grasp of what it’s like to be happy again. Because his life was meant to be doomed even before he was born to this world.
“Yuuji, why did you ran off like that—”
“Gojo sensei, he’s really gone now…” Yuuji said in a quiet and defeated voice, threading lightly with those words, secretly hoping it wasn’t the truth.
“Yuuji, who are you talking--”
Gojo is worried. When Yuuji suddenly bolted after exorcising another human-turned-curse, Gojo had no choice but to come after his student. He might not be obvious about it, but Gojo is not as emotionally inept as what other people try to say about him. And the white-haired man knows that this kid who he had come to treasure as his has been dealing with invisible wounds that not even him is capable of fixing.
So much for being the strongest…
But this is not about him, this is about Yuuji. And he needs to get to the heart of the problem before it festers and kills Yuuji inside.
“He really left didn’t he?”
It is concerning how Yuuji’s face was contorted in a painful expression, eyes shining with tears, so far from the cheerful and optimistic kid he once knew. Gojo can’t help regretting the choices he made; for saving the boy, for taking him under his wing… for letting him meet people that aren’t guaranteed to remain by his side because they are not strong enough to stay.
“I’m not sure I follow—”
“I saw him… And Mahito---he was there too. The next thing I knew, he was gone and I just stood there. So useless...”
“…”
So this is about his junior, huh?
Nanami, who once left the world of sorcery so he could live normally. He was responsible, blunt and too serious in life. Honestly, what a boring man. But he came back, and became one of the few persons he could rely on to take care of his precious student.
Yet he was gone now, in a flash, just like everybody else. And he made sure to take a piece of Yuuji’s heart with him.
I thought you were better than that, Nanami.
“It hurt to accept it, to even think about it. What am I supposed to do? This is too painful, Sensei.”
Yuuji’s hands clutched on the lump of clothes, just above his heart, as if it would stop the pain from coming.
I wonder what I’m feeling about this… Is this disgust for weakness?---Or is this what they call pain? It’s been so long since I felt it. I already forgot.
But is this pain for his sweet boy Yuuji? Pain for Nanami’s sudden departure?
“And he promised me--I was supposed to go first, didn’t I? And when that moment comes, he promised to be there to see me off! I was supposed to go first and he promised me--”
And there’s the rage. The boy just simultaneously went through the stages of grief in the past few minutes and Gojo felt useless. He can't even remember how to since a long time ago because it only gave him weakness but now it came back with vengeance.
What do I tell him?
Nanami always knew what to say in this kind of situation. He was always the more adult one between the two of them.
Damn, Nanami… I told you to take care of him but it turned out you’re the one to break his heart like this.
“---Yuuji, I’m still here. Sensei is still here…”
Yes, Yuuji… It hurts being left behind always. However, if your knees can’t take all the weight in your heart, you can always cling on what stayed. And I am still here, Yuuji. I’ll remain the strongest for you.
“But I need Nanamin too, Sensei! I need him… he was my family too. How could I just forget? It hurts… I lost a family again and it’s so painful and I don’t know what to do!”
The boy in front of him was hysterical, and he could see bits and pieces of the boy he was once too, unmarred from the cruelty of the universe.
“Yuuji, come here,” Gojo said almost in whisper, afraid of breaking Yuuji once more. The boy looked at him with tear-stained cheeks and suddenly found himself engulfed in a hug. Maybe Yuuji wasn’t the only one broken at all.
“I miss him too, Yuuji. I miss him so much. But we also need to move forward. And you still have me, and we’ll have the rest here, together.”