Work Text:
“Yuji is back.” Gojo said, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looked up at the sky, clouds drifting above.
“He’ll be spending some time alone, I’m not going to tell his friends just yet.” Without waiting for a reply, he continued rambling like he always does, his voice tinged with concern. “You know, until he gets the hang of this new world he’s in. I’ll be training him too—anything that involves cursed energy. Ah, poor kid.”
He paused for a moment, as if searching for the right words, his gaze distant. “I did mention to Nanami that Yuji will need someone to keep an eye on him when I’m busy. All he said was…” Gojo cleared his throat, adopting a mock-serious tone to imitate Nanami. “You specially came to Hokkaido just to talk about such naïve things. Classic Nanamin, hehe.”
A brief pause lingered, as if Gojo anticipated a response. His hands found solace in the depths of his pockets and a sigh escaping him like a wistful breeze.
“It'll be our anniversary soon, right?” Gojo mused, a nostalgic twinkle in his eye. “It would be– well, would have been 10 years of friendship, can you believe it? I'm gonna drop by our favorite crepe shop for that. I'll even get your favorite one, you’re missing out on a lot of things!”
He could still see distant memories of how he would try to sneak in big bites off your crepe, and you would just mutter a series of insults as he audibly laughed, simple times.
“Oh, and…” he said, his voice softening as he reached into his bag and pulled out a bouquet of flowers. The yellow and pink camellias were carefully arranged, their vibrant colors standing in stark contrast to the somber atmosphere. “I’m no expert like you, but I did my research. I tried to find the ones that…”
Silence settled again, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.
His shoulders slumped.
“I must be losing it.” the vulnerability in his tone echoing against the quiet backdrop.
But nobody came. The silence was absolute, save for the soft rustling of leaves and the distant hum of the world going on without him.
“You know…” he began, his voice trembling slightly, “I miss you terribly.”
He stood alone, just him and the grave in front of him.
“Just imagine,” he continued, a trace of regret threading through his words, “if you had stayed a bit longer. Maybe I would’ve found the courage to tell you how I felt about us. Maybe we could’ve been something more. Who knows? I might have even married you.”
It's a shame that every memory of you got replaced by your lifeless eyes, and your desperate gasps of air until you reached your very last one, he's being haunted by the person he loved most.
Another heavy pause followed.
“But I waited too long.” his voice wavered, and his eyes revealed nothing but numbness.
He still felt your own blood on his fingertips, and how they abnormally shook once he had to wash them off as you were pronounced dead.
“Did I?”
His whisper echoed, hoping that it could reach the one person that once eased his loneliness.
All he could do was reside in the warmth of you in his memories and cherish it.